“Works in Progress”
Isaiah 64:1-9
Rev. Désirée H. Gold
St. Mark’s United Church of Christ, Baltimore, MD
Sunday, 30 November, 2008
First Sunday of Advent
----
 I am a little shocked that the Season of Advent begins today. I should be ready for it. After all, I have seen Christmas advertisements in the stores since late September. I have been getting Christmas catalogs since August. And now “the holiday season” is really in full swing. “Black Friday” has taken place, and although I was far from the shopping malls I saw pictures of the mayhem in the news. I am working on my annual Christmas letter and will sit down to begin my Christmas cards in a week or two. But right now I’m not ready for it. ...Why is that?
I think there is one main reason Advent shocks us -- or at least me. Outside the walls of the church the Christmas season is in full swing. We see Santa Claus and snowmen and cheerful babies in mangers, surrounded by a glowing Mary and Joseph. I sat in a deli last week and was nauseated by a constant stream of bad Christmas carols, sung by overwrought musicians. A crowd of 2,000 greed-blinded people rushed through the door of a Wal Mart on Friday, killing an employee who was hired to assist with the busy holiday season.
These experiences are what “the Christmas season” has become to the outside world. Then I walk in the doors of the church and am in a different world. Here the Christmas season does not even begin until December 25th. The Advent season -- the four weeks leading up to Christmas -- is a solemn time in the church. It is a time for contemplation and prayer. ...And look at the scriptures! We are not welcomed this morning with a sentimental tale about a Christ-child born in Bethlehem. Instead -- smack! -- we are hit with dark words about the anger of God toward a sinful people and about the Second Coming of Christ. We must reconfigure our cheerful holiday mood when we enter the doors of the church and prepare for something a little different.
It is a shock to the senses to go from “Oh, Holy Night” to “But in those days, after that suffering, the sun will be darkened, and the moon will not give its light, and the stars will be falling from heaven, and the powers in the heavens will be shaken.” It makes the head spin to go from “Jingle Bells” to “O that you would tear open the heavens and come down, so that the mountains would quake at your presence...to make your name known to your adversaries, so that the nations might tremble at your presence!” Yet there they are. There are those dark words that usher us into the Season of Advent. And once we get past the initial shock, I hope we will realize the beauty of the words and their reason for being here. The theme of the First Sunday of Advent every year is “hope,” and I pray that we will see the hope contained in Isaiah’s and Mark’s shocking words too.
Our reading from Isaiah begins with a desperate prayer for God to make God’s presence known: “O that you would tear open the heavens and come down!” Is this not exactly what we need? Our world is hurting terribly right now. We set aside our pain as much as we can so we can “get into the holiday spirit.” We shrug off our woes so we can make the best Christmas possible for our families. We ignore the horrors of the world and delve into “Christmas cheer.” ...This is not entirely a bad thing. Escapism has its purposes. But perhaps this year, more than ever, what we really need to be doing during this season is calling out to God, begging for forgiveness, and becoming aware that we are created by God.
We talk every week about the troubles in our lives and in our world. This week, the terrible violence in Mumbai, India was one more thing to add to our prayers. Is there not tremendous hope in the idea of God tearing open the heavens and coming to save us?
Then there is Isaiah’s cry for forgiveness. Even as we weep in horror at the transgressions of our fellow humans we, too, commit sins. Isn’t confessing those sins before God a perfect way to prepare for Christ’s coming into the world? Whether we have turned from God in large or small ways, cleaning our slate is a way of showing that we respect and honor the Christ who is about to come into our midst. It is also a good way to check our own spiritual gauge during what has become a “holiday season” about greed and hectic activity.
Finally, there is Isaiah’s description of God as the potter and humankind as the clay. This is a beautiful reminder that we belong to God and that God has not, in fact, stopped the process of creating us. We’re works in progress. Advent marks the beginning of the Christian year, so maybe this can be a new beginning for us -- a time to allow God to re-create us, to mold us in God’s image.
This morning, in a few moments, we will baptize Jonathan Russell. Jonathan is at the very beginning of his life’s journey, and one of the things we emphasize at a baptism is the Christian journey. As a congregation, we will promise “our love, support and care” to Jonathan “as he lives and grows in Christ.” It will be easy to think of him as the clay that God is molding, because he is so young. Every time he does something, we can practically see the wheels turning in his brain as he learns new things about his world.
But perhaps the words of Isaiah, and the coming Advent of Christ can help us to realize that we, too, are being molded and changed; that we are growing in new ways with every breath we take. Today is Margaret King’s 95th birthday. Today Jonathan will celebrate his first birthday. Let us take this season of Advent to remember that Margaret is a work in progress, just as Jonathan is. God is creating us continuously, developing our spirits and our hearts and our minds from before we are born until the day that we die. Let us respect and honor God’s creation of us by taking time to nurture our spirits during this Advent season.
Now let us pray.
Sunday, November 30, 2008
Sunday, November 23, 2008
Sermon 11/23/08 (Deut. 8:7-18; Matt. 25:31-46)
“Thanks & Giving”
Deuteronomy 8:7-18; Matthew 25:31-46
Rev. Désirée H. Gold
St. Mark’s United Church of Christ, Baltimore, MD
Sunday, 23 November, 2008
Reign of Christ Sunday
Thanksgiving Sunday
----
 We have been talking a lot lately about how troubled our world is, and for good reason: these are, indeed, troubled times. We have been at war in Iraq for more than 5 years, with no exit strategy in sight. Countless other parts of the world face war, and violence erupts on a regular basis in Baltimore city. Natural disasters hit our own and other coasts, and fires rage in California. Then there’s the economy. Food pantries and homeless shelters have seen an influx of new clients, and whether or not we’re there yet, we worry about how we’ll pay our bills.
In short, our world does not much resemble the one described in our reading from Deuteronomy: “a land where you may eat bread without scarcity, where you will lack nothing.” It doesn’t seem much like our Psalm: “You crown the year with your bounty; your wagon tracks overflow with richness.” The reading from Paul’s letter to the Corinthians falls on deaf ears: “God is able to provide you with every blessing in abundance, so that [we] always [have] enough of everything.”
Our scriptures contain many such tales of God’s abundance. God will provide for all of our needs, we’re told. God will present to us a land flowing with milk and honey, we read. God’s blessings will be too many for us to count. We should cry to God with songs of thanksgiving! We should praise God with our every breath, the scriptures tell us!
...Instead of praising God with songs of thanksgiving, we worry about how we will pay our bills -- maybe even how we will put food on the table. We read scriptures like today’s and put them aside, because they don’t seem to fit our current situation. But here they are this morning. How do we deal with scriptures like these in times like these? And how do we treat a holiday like Thanksgiving, when we’re not too sure about “thanking God for abundance”? I suggest that the first thing we do is to count our blessings. Yes, life might be hard for us right now. Business might be slow, we might be worried about money, we might be concerned about loved ones serving in the military. We might have serious health problems or be worried about loved ones who do. We might wonder how we are going to provide a Thanksgiving dinner -- or any dinner. Life might be hard in different ways for those of us here. But we all have at least one thing in common: Regardless of whatever else is going on in our lives, we have been blessed with the ability to join together and worship at St. Mark’s this morning. We were well enough to get out of bed. We have eaten recently enough to have the energy to get here. And here we are. There’s one big blessing for which we can give thanks to God: we have the strength to worship in a community of faith this Sunday morning. Here’s another one: Every one of us here is invited to a Thanksgiving dinner after church today. Whatever our plans are for this Thursday, today we will have a sumptuous meal and a loving family with which to share it. Blessing Number Two.
My guess is that you will, in fact, come up with many more blessings once you sit down and really think about it. We have more abundance than we ever would have imagined. I think, in fact, that it may be easier to count one’s blessings during difficult times. During times of plenty, we have so much stuff that it becomes almost too much to quantify. We begin to take life for granted and think that our abundance is strictly the result of our own hard work. We leave God out of the equation. But during times of struggle, there’s less to count. We might spend a fair bit of time complaining to God about having less. But then we realize that we have still been blessed with much, and we are able to express gratitude to the God who gave it to us.
What, then, do we do with all of our blessings once we’ve counted them? How do we respond to the God who has given us much even when we think we have little? We first, of course, respond by falling to our knees and praising God. But once we have given thanks for God’s “indescribable gift,” what do we do with the blessings that we have?
“for I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me.”
We express our gratitude to God by caring for God’s children. Whether we live in a beautiful home and eat a fancy meal every night, or whether we live on the streets and eat out of a trash can, there is always someone who is worse off than we are. Christ commands us -- whoever we are -- to drop whatever we are doing and care for those people who are suffering. If you have food or water or clothing beyond what you absolutely need, then you are called to share it with the one who has none. And you do not require any material wealth in order to welcome the stranger, take care of the sick, or visit the prisoner. Any one of us can do that, and that is a blessing that we can all count among what God has given us: the ability to care for our neighbors.
The beautiful thing about this morning’s scriptures, in light of the Thanksgiving holiday we will celebrate in a few days, is that they apply to every one of us. I implore you to center yourself in prayer and realize that God has, in fact, provided you with an “indescribable gift.” And I ask you to come to terms with the fact that whoever you are, or wherever you are on life’s journey, you have something to give to those who are less fortunate than you.
These are hard times for all of us, for a lot of different reasons. But following our scriptures will make the world a better place. Feeding one another, welcoming one another, caring for one another, and visiting one another will improve the state of our world...and it will be serving Christ directly.
Being a Christian means being able to turn to God when things are tough. It means thanking God for even the tiniest blessings. And it means taking care of our neighbors, God’s children, remembering that they come in every color, nationality, description. They are the immigrant, the convict, the AIDS victim, the upstanding, healthy American citizen who comes to church every Sunday. Christ himself takes every form.
Let us give thanks for our blessings, for our diversity as humankind, and for our ability to help one another. Now let us pray.
Deuteronomy 8:7-18; Matthew 25:31-46
Rev. Désirée H. Gold
St. Mark’s United Church of Christ, Baltimore, MD
Sunday, 23 November, 2008
Reign of Christ Sunday
Thanksgiving Sunday
----
 We have been talking a lot lately about how troubled our world is, and for good reason: these are, indeed, troubled times. We have been at war in Iraq for more than 5 years, with no exit strategy in sight. Countless other parts of the world face war, and violence erupts on a regular basis in Baltimore city. Natural disasters hit our own and other coasts, and fires rage in California. Then there’s the economy. Food pantries and homeless shelters have seen an influx of new clients, and whether or not we’re there yet, we worry about how we’ll pay our bills.
In short, our world does not much resemble the one described in our reading from Deuteronomy: “a land where you may eat bread without scarcity, where you will lack nothing.” It doesn’t seem much like our Psalm: “You crown the year with your bounty; your wagon tracks overflow with richness.” The reading from Paul’s letter to the Corinthians falls on deaf ears: “God is able to provide you with every blessing in abundance, so that [we] always [have] enough of everything.”
Our scriptures contain many such tales of God’s abundance. God will provide for all of our needs, we’re told. God will present to us a land flowing with milk and honey, we read. God’s blessings will be too many for us to count. We should cry to God with songs of thanksgiving! We should praise God with our every breath, the scriptures tell us!
...Instead of praising God with songs of thanksgiving, we worry about how we will pay our bills -- maybe even how we will put food on the table. We read scriptures like today’s and put them aside, because they don’t seem to fit our current situation. But here they are this morning. How do we deal with scriptures like these in times like these? And how do we treat a holiday like Thanksgiving, when we’re not too sure about “thanking God for abundance”? I suggest that the first thing we do is to count our blessings. Yes, life might be hard for us right now. Business might be slow, we might be worried about money, we might be concerned about loved ones serving in the military. We might have serious health problems or be worried about loved ones who do. We might wonder how we are going to provide a Thanksgiving dinner -- or any dinner. Life might be hard in different ways for those of us here. But we all have at least one thing in common: Regardless of whatever else is going on in our lives, we have been blessed with the ability to join together and worship at St. Mark’s this morning. We were well enough to get out of bed. We have eaten recently enough to have the energy to get here. And here we are. There’s one big blessing for which we can give thanks to God: we have the strength to worship in a community of faith this Sunday morning. Here’s another one: Every one of us here is invited to a Thanksgiving dinner after church today. Whatever our plans are for this Thursday, today we will have a sumptuous meal and a loving family with which to share it. Blessing Number Two.
My guess is that you will, in fact, come up with many more blessings once you sit down and really think about it. We have more abundance than we ever would have imagined. I think, in fact, that it may be easier to count one’s blessings during difficult times. During times of plenty, we have so much stuff that it becomes almost too much to quantify. We begin to take life for granted and think that our abundance is strictly the result of our own hard work. We leave God out of the equation. But during times of struggle, there’s less to count. We might spend a fair bit of time complaining to God about having less. But then we realize that we have still been blessed with much, and we are able to express gratitude to the God who gave it to us.
What, then, do we do with all of our blessings once we’ve counted them? How do we respond to the God who has given us much even when we think we have little? We first, of course, respond by falling to our knees and praising God. But once we have given thanks for God’s “indescribable gift,” what do we do with the blessings that we have?
“for I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me.”
We express our gratitude to God by caring for God’s children. Whether we live in a beautiful home and eat a fancy meal every night, or whether we live on the streets and eat out of a trash can, there is always someone who is worse off than we are. Christ commands us -- whoever we are -- to drop whatever we are doing and care for those people who are suffering. If you have food or water or clothing beyond what you absolutely need, then you are called to share it with the one who has none. And you do not require any material wealth in order to welcome the stranger, take care of the sick, or visit the prisoner. Any one of us can do that, and that is a blessing that we can all count among what God has given us: the ability to care for our neighbors.
The beautiful thing about this morning’s scriptures, in light of the Thanksgiving holiday we will celebrate in a few days, is that they apply to every one of us. I implore you to center yourself in prayer and realize that God has, in fact, provided you with an “indescribable gift.” And I ask you to come to terms with the fact that whoever you are, or wherever you are on life’s journey, you have something to give to those who are less fortunate than you.
These are hard times for all of us, for a lot of different reasons. But following our scriptures will make the world a better place. Feeding one another, welcoming one another, caring for one another, and visiting one another will improve the state of our world...and it will be serving Christ directly.
Being a Christian means being able to turn to God when things are tough. It means thanking God for even the tiniest blessings. And it means taking care of our neighbors, God’s children, remembering that they come in every color, nationality, description. They are the immigrant, the convict, the AIDS victim, the upstanding, healthy American citizen who comes to church every Sunday. Christ himself takes every form.
Let us give thanks for our blessings, for our diversity as humankind, and for our ability to help one another. Now let us pray.
Thursday, November 20, 2008
Sermon 11/16/08 (Matthew 25:14-30)
“First Century Wall Street”
Matthew 25:14-30
Rev. Désirée H. Gold
St. Mark’s United Church of Christ, Baltimore, MD
Sunday, 16 November, 2008
Thirty-third Sunday in Ordinary Time
----
 I recently read a news story about a contractor who found more than $100,000 cash inside the walls of a house he was remodeling. During the Great Depression, a previous owner of the home had stashed the money inside the walls to keep it safe -- investing it was obviously too risky in those days.
The contractor told the current owner of the house, a friend for whom he was doing a favor, about the money, and they agreed to split it. Then somehow the story hit the news, and descendants of the home’s original owners stepped in and said that the cash was rightfully theirs. A legal battle ensued, and everyone got a little cut of the money -- the contractor, the current homeowner, the family of the original owner -- but nobody won. Perhaps most poignantly, the man who had put the money in the wall in the first place never got to use a penny of it, since he had died many years before.
I don’t have a mind for economics, but I do know that some risk is involved. If you hide your money in the wall or bury it in the ground -- like the third slave in this morning’s scripture did -- it will do nobody any good. The stock market is all about risk -- risking enough to get a return on your investment but not risking so much that you lose all your money. There is a complex science to it, which is why people hire financial advisers to figure out how to go about investing.
I also understand that during difficult economic times, like the Great Depression and like our current economic climate, people want to take as little risk as possible. As banks fail, people become more prone to hiding their money under the mattress -- or in the wall. They hoard it and don’t want to spend it anywhere, much less the stock market. Like the slave who hid his talent in the ground, they wind up with the same amount that they began with -- no less, but no more either.
The master in this morning’s gospel lesson entrusted his slaves with an enormous amount of money. It should be noted that “talents” do not refer to personal abilities. In this culture a “talent” represented an enormous amount of money, something like twenty years worth of the slaves’ normal wages. When the first two slaves doubled the talents given them by trading, we can think of this like a first century stock market. It is not known exactly how they would have doubled the money, but it is understood that they invested it, taking risks in order to improve on the initial investment. They apparently took the right risks, because they doubled their money.
The third slave, on the other hand, opted to avoid the risk. It was not unusual for people to bury money for safekeeping -- but the slave indicates that he did so not because he was afraid of the risk but because his master “was harsh and reaped what he did not sow.” There is no indication in the text that the master was harsh -- he did, after all, entrust his slaves with large sums of money -- so perhaps the third slave’s complaint was just an excuse. He may, in fact, have expected the master to be pleased with the fact that he returned the entire capital of the investment, rather than losing it on some “first century Wall Street.” But once he saw that his master was so pleased with his two risk-taking compatriots, he had to think of a quick excuse. ...The truth is, we don’t know why he really buried the money -- whether he did so out of spite, out of fear, or what. All we have is the conclusion: those who take risks may be rewarded handsomely, while those who do nothing will lose out.
In difficult economic times, the language of this scripture is difficult to hear. Even those of us who don’t do a whole lot of investing in the stock market take fewer risks when we have less money with which to take them. We are more careful with our money, and we are less trusting of banks. The illustration of taking risks when investing our money is hard to hear right now. However, we should remember that this is Jesus speaking here. He used the illustration of a master giving money to his slaves because his listeners would have understood that, but he was not saying that God won’t love us if we don’t invest in the stock market. He was telling a story to make a larger point...and what was that point? If we are not willing to take risks -- in whatever, but especially in our faith lives -- we will lose out.
Being a Christian means putting your heart on the line. It means taking all sorts of risks, from the financial to the emotional to the spiritual...even the physical. We take risks when we give our money away -- in the offering plate, to organizations, to a person on the street. Will our money truly get used to the glory of God? We take risks when we invite people to come to our church. Will we like them? (not that that is what being the church is about) Will they benefit the church? We take risks when we commit ourselves to a cause. Will our hearts be broken if it doesn’t go the way we want? We take risks when we engage in any kind of mission. What if I am physically hurt while I’m building this Habitat for Humanity house? Should I really be traveling to that part of the city or this part of the world? We take spiritual risks whenever we do anything in the service of God. Will I still feel the same way about God if this doesn’t go as planned?
First century followers of Christ took special risks. They risked being persecuted for following this countercultural rabbi. They risked their livelihoods by dropping what they were doing and following this strange man, Jesus. But their willingness to take risks meant that they would reap a tremendous reward: eternal life.
Our willingness to take risks for our faith yields that great reward too -- we are promised eternal life. This, of course, is the ultimate goal. But there are more tangible rewards as well. The money we put in the offering plate will help to make a better church. When we give money to Earl’s Place or other organizations we may be changing lives -- yes, even the pennies we put in add up. It’s true that not every single person who goes into Earl’s Place or other organizations succeeds. So, was our money wasted? No. That person had shelter and regular meals for a time.
When we ask people to come to our church, we reap the benefits of meeting wonderful children of God. Of course we “risk” inviting people who are not like us...but isn’t that the point? They, too, are children of God, and their presence among us will be a Godly thing.
When we commit ourselves to a cause, yes, we risk having our hearts broken. My sister, along with thousands of people across the country, was disillusioned when Proposition 8 passed in California. But she, along with many others, is reaping the benefits of joining together with other people who believe as she does. Even when our hearts are broken, good can arise when we join together.
I vaguely remember hitting my thumb with a hammer when I was building a Habitat for Humanity house in college. But that house now shelters a family. I’ve gone into some bad neighborhoods...but I’ve been reminded of God’s presence there in the process.
The spiritual risks are always there, whenever we put our heart on the line in the service of Christ. But the benefits follow. So I ask you, even in these difficult times -- especially in these difficult times -- to continue to take risks for your faith. The rewards will be heavenly...and earthly too.
Now let us pray.
Matthew 25:14-30
Rev. Désirée H. Gold
St. Mark’s United Church of Christ, Baltimore, MD
Sunday, 16 November, 2008
Thirty-third Sunday in Ordinary Time
----
 I recently read a news story about a contractor who found more than $100,000 cash inside the walls of a house he was remodeling. During the Great Depression, a previous owner of the home had stashed the money inside the walls to keep it safe -- investing it was obviously too risky in those days.
The contractor told the current owner of the house, a friend for whom he was doing a favor, about the money, and they agreed to split it. Then somehow the story hit the news, and descendants of the home’s original owners stepped in and said that the cash was rightfully theirs. A legal battle ensued, and everyone got a little cut of the money -- the contractor, the current homeowner, the family of the original owner -- but nobody won. Perhaps most poignantly, the man who had put the money in the wall in the first place never got to use a penny of it, since he had died many years before.
I don’t have a mind for economics, but I do know that some risk is involved. If you hide your money in the wall or bury it in the ground -- like the third slave in this morning’s scripture did -- it will do nobody any good. The stock market is all about risk -- risking enough to get a return on your investment but not risking so much that you lose all your money. There is a complex science to it, which is why people hire financial advisers to figure out how to go about investing.
I also understand that during difficult economic times, like the Great Depression and like our current economic climate, people want to take as little risk as possible. As banks fail, people become more prone to hiding their money under the mattress -- or in the wall. They hoard it and don’t want to spend it anywhere, much less the stock market. Like the slave who hid his talent in the ground, they wind up with the same amount that they began with -- no less, but no more either.
The master in this morning’s gospel lesson entrusted his slaves with an enormous amount of money. It should be noted that “talents” do not refer to personal abilities. In this culture a “talent” represented an enormous amount of money, something like twenty years worth of the slaves’ normal wages. When the first two slaves doubled the talents given them by trading, we can think of this like a first century stock market. It is not known exactly how they would have doubled the money, but it is understood that they invested it, taking risks in order to improve on the initial investment. They apparently took the right risks, because they doubled their money.
The third slave, on the other hand, opted to avoid the risk. It was not unusual for people to bury money for safekeeping -- but the slave indicates that he did so not because he was afraid of the risk but because his master “was harsh and reaped what he did not sow.” There is no indication in the text that the master was harsh -- he did, after all, entrust his slaves with large sums of money -- so perhaps the third slave’s complaint was just an excuse. He may, in fact, have expected the master to be pleased with the fact that he returned the entire capital of the investment, rather than losing it on some “first century Wall Street.” But once he saw that his master was so pleased with his two risk-taking compatriots, he had to think of a quick excuse. ...The truth is, we don’t know why he really buried the money -- whether he did so out of spite, out of fear, or what. All we have is the conclusion: those who take risks may be rewarded handsomely, while those who do nothing will lose out.
In difficult economic times, the language of this scripture is difficult to hear. Even those of us who don’t do a whole lot of investing in the stock market take fewer risks when we have less money with which to take them. We are more careful with our money, and we are less trusting of banks. The illustration of taking risks when investing our money is hard to hear right now. However, we should remember that this is Jesus speaking here. He used the illustration of a master giving money to his slaves because his listeners would have understood that, but he was not saying that God won’t love us if we don’t invest in the stock market. He was telling a story to make a larger point...and what was that point? If we are not willing to take risks -- in whatever, but especially in our faith lives -- we will lose out.
Being a Christian means putting your heart on the line. It means taking all sorts of risks, from the financial to the emotional to the spiritual...even the physical. We take risks when we give our money away -- in the offering plate, to organizations, to a person on the street. Will our money truly get used to the glory of God? We take risks when we invite people to come to our church. Will we like them? (not that that is what being the church is about) Will they benefit the church? We take risks when we commit ourselves to a cause. Will our hearts be broken if it doesn’t go the way we want? We take risks when we engage in any kind of mission. What if I am physically hurt while I’m building this Habitat for Humanity house? Should I really be traveling to that part of the city or this part of the world? We take spiritual risks whenever we do anything in the service of God. Will I still feel the same way about God if this doesn’t go as planned?
First century followers of Christ took special risks. They risked being persecuted for following this countercultural rabbi. They risked their livelihoods by dropping what they were doing and following this strange man, Jesus. But their willingness to take risks meant that they would reap a tremendous reward: eternal life.
Our willingness to take risks for our faith yields that great reward too -- we are promised eternal life. This, of course, is the ultimate goal. But there are more tangible rewards as well. The money we put in the offering plate will help to make a better church. When we give money to Earl’s Place or other organizations we may be changing lives -- yes, even the pennies we put in add up. It’s true that not every single person who goes into Earl’s Place or other organizations succeeds. So, was our money wasted? No. That person had shelter and regular meals for a time.
When we ask people to come to our church, we reap the benefits of meeting wonderful children of God. Of course we “risk” inviting people who are not like us...but isn’t that the point? They, too, are children of God, and their presence among us will be a Godly thing.
When we commit ourselves to a cause, yes, we risk having our hearts broken. My sister, along with thousands of people across the country, was disillusioned when Proposition 8 passed in California. But she, along with many others, is reaping the benefits of joining together with other people who believe as she does. Even when our hearts are broken, good can arise when we join together.
I vaguely remember hitting my thumb with a hammer when I was building a Habitat for Humanity house in college. But that house now shelters a family. I’ve gone into some bad neighborhoods...but I’ve been reminded of God’s presence there in the process.
The spiritual risks are always there, whenever we put our heart on the line in the service of Christ. But the benefits follow. So I ask you, even in these difficult times -- especially in these difficult times -- to continue to take risks for your faith. The rewards will be heavenly...and earthly too.
Now let us pray.
Sermon 11/09/08 (Amos 5:18-24; Matt. 25:1-13)
“Justice Flowing Like the Mississippi”
Amos 5:18-24; Matthew 25:1-13
Rev. Désirée H. Gold
St. Mark’s United Church of Christ, Baltimore, MD
Sunday, 9 November, 2008
Thirty-second Sunday in Ordinary Time
----
 For the past month or so I have been encouraging you to vote, and I proudly went to the polls on Tuesday morning. Then on Wednesday I read an article suggesting that Christians shouldn’t vote. What?! I have always been taught that we should vote, and I just spent weeks telling you that Christians should vote prayerfully. I almost didn’t read the article when I saw it because I thought it would be a bunch of baloney, but it actually was interesting.
One of the reasons that the article gave for not voting was that we don’t actually have much power when we vote in a presidential election. As J.T. pointed out to me after church last Sunday, the general population doesn’t actually choose the president; the electoral college does. The article suggested that until this system is changed our voting in a presidential election is just a sham. According to the article, “If voting is not a definite evil...it is at best the weakest and most ineffective form of Christian political action.” The question is also asked, “If you don’t believe in capital punishment or war, why vote to put people in positions where they will be forced, by their oath of office, to engage in them?”
Then there’s the issue of the secret ballot. Americans champion the fact that we have a secret ballot -- we are the only person who knows how we voted -- but the article points out that “Christian ethics are inherently public and communal.” Therefore, making such an important moral decision in secret goes against the Christian grain.
I still believe what I’ve been telling you for the past month, and I still believe that my vote counted for something. But this article, mixed together with some other things I read this week, and with this morning’s scriptures got me thinking. Americans had a lot banking on this year’s elections -- even more than usual, it seemed. Regardless of who won the presidency, history was in the making (and has now been made). Christians all across the spectrum were talking about “justice” and “how God created us,” with relation to gay marriage amendments and other initiatives. The fact that the United States finally has an African American president (or would have had a female vice president) is shocking justice too, especially since African Americans were granted the right to vote in 1870 and women were granted the right to vote in 1920. But are we Christians banking too much of our justice on the secular government of our country? Are we focusing too much on the “empire” of the United States rather than on the coming Empire of God?
In our Old Testament reading for this morning, the prophet Amos cries “let justice roll down like waters, and righteousness like an everflowing stream.” You may recognize these words from Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr.’s “I Have a Dream” speech. In that context, King was, of course, referring to civil rights in the United States, but in its original context the words relate to the Realm of God.
Rev. Dr. King talks about a world in which his children “will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.” I certainly believe that the coming Realm, or Empire, or Kingdom of God will be such a place -- in which we are not judged by the color of our skin but by the content of our character. But people know these words of the prophet Amos more from Martin Luther King than they do from the Holy Bible.
Then there is our reading from Matthew. I have never gotten along very well with this parable. Why didn’t the bridesmaids who had more oil share with those who ran out? Doesn’t Christ usually teach us to share? In my conversations with other ministers I learned that I am not alone in wrestling with this scripture. However, I did gain some insight. In this culture, a bride’s husband-to-be was expected to build her a house before their wedding. The wedding would take place at a moment’s notice, when the house was ready, and the guests had to be prepared. It was the responsibility of the bridesmaids to guide the wedding party from the bride’s home to the location of the wedding. If the wise women shared their oil with the foolish women, then the wise women may not have had enough oil either, and they all would have run out of oil on their way to the wedding feast. They weren’t being mean; they were making sure that there would be enough light for the journey.
Of course, Jesus is not simply warning his listeners to be ready for a wedding. The bridesmaids represent the faithful (i.e., us), and the “bridegroom” is Christ himself. We are to be always prepared for Christ’s return, and for the Kingdom, or the Empire of God.
In the second article I read this Wednesday, UCC pastor Andrew Warner referred to this Gospel parable and said that American Christians tend to “put too much power in the hands of the president and too little in Jesus.” He pointed out that we tend to use a great deal of eschatalogical language in politics -- we act like presidents and prime ministers have as much to do with the “end times” as Jesus Christ. In making his point he quoted Ronald Reagan, in a campaign speech from 1979: “Someone once said that the difference between an American and any other kind of person is that an American lives in anticipation of the future because he knows it will be a great place.” I am sure Reagan’s listeners cheered when they heard his words, just as crowds cheered when they heard the promises for a new world made by Barack Obama and John McCain. But are we cheering for the wrong things and waiting for the wrong tomorrow? That is, do we cheer as loudly when we hear Jesus talking about “anticipation of the future” (being ready) “because we know it will be a great place?” Do we cheer as loud when we hear the prophet Amos (not just as he is quoted by Martin Luther King, Jr.), crying out for “justice [to] roll down like waters, and righteousness like an everflowing stream”?
I never liked the tone of this morning’s parable. But Rev. Warner reminded me that Jesus spoke of the ten bridesmaids as he was preparing for a night shortly before his crucifixion, when his own disciples would be separated into the wise and the foolish. The grand speeches of our politicians are often given as they are beginning their “reign” -- they are preparing for a “bright new world” under their own leadership. The Empire of God, on the other hand, will only be met after tremendous trials -- Amos warns that the day of the Lord “is darkness, not light; as if someone fled from a lion, and was met by a bear; or went into the house and rested a hand against the wall, and was bitten by a snake.” (Sounds lovely, doesn’t it?)
Like many Americans, I am hopeful about the next four years. I think most Americans, including our current President Bush, are ready for a change. I am also heartbroken that gay marriage amendments passed in three states. This is not justice. But I also need to remind myself that the American government is not the be all and end all of my life as a Christian. The “great new world” that I am hoping for will not be found in the next four years under the leadership of Barack Obama or John McCain or anybody else. It will be found in the Empire of God, under the leadership of Jesus Christ.
Now let us pray.
Amos 5:18-24; Matthew 25:1-13
Rev. Désirée H. Gold
St. Mark’s United Church of Christ, Baltimore, MD
Sunday, 9 November, 2008
Thirty-second Sunday in Ordinary Time
----
 For the past month or so I have been encouraging you to vote, and I proudly went to the polls on Tuesday morning. Then on Wednesday I read an article suggesting that Christians shouldn’t vote. What?! I have always been taught that we should vote, and I just spent weeks telling you that Christians should vote prayerfully. I almost didn’t read the article when I saw it because I thought it would be a bunch of baloney, but it actually was interesting.
One of the reasons that the article gave for not voting was that we don’t actually have much power when we vote in a presidential election. As J.T. pointed out to me after church last Sunday, the general population doesn’t actually choose the president; the electoral college does. The article suggested that until this system is changed our voting in a presidential election is just a sham. According to the article, “If voting is not a definite evil...it is at best the weakest and most ineffective form of Christian political action.” The question is also asked, “If you don’t believe in capital punishment or war, why vote to put people in positions where they will be forced, by their oath of office, to engage in them?”
Then there’s the issue of the secret ballot. Americans champion the fact that we have a secret ballot -- we are the only person who knows how we voted -- but the article points out that “Christian ethics are inherently public and communal.” Therefore, making such an important moral decision in secret goes against the Christian grain.
I still believe what I’ve been telling you for the past month, and I still believe that my vote counted for something. But this article, mixed together with some other things I read this week, and with this morning’s scriptures got me thinking. Americans had a lot banking on this year’s elections -- even more than usual, it seemed. Regardless of who won the presidency, history was in the making (and has now been made). Christians all across the spectrum were talking about “justice” and “how God created us,” with relation to gay marriage amendments and other initiatives. The fact that the United States finally has an African American president (or would have had a female vice president) is shocking justice too, especially since African Americans were granted the right to vote in 1870 and women were granted the right to vote in 1920. But are we Christians banking too much of our justice on the secular government of our country? Are we focusing too much on the “empire” of the United States rather than on the coming Empire of God?
In our Old Testament reading for this morning, the prophet Amos cries “let justice roll down like waters, and righteousness like an everflowing stream.” You may recognize these words from Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr.’s “I Have a Dream” speech. In that context, King was, of course, referring to civil rights in the United States, but in its original context the words relate to the Realm of God.
Rev. Dr. King talks about a world in which his children “will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.” I certainly believe that the coming Realm, or Empire, or Kingdom of God will be such a place -- in which we are not judged by the color of our skin but by the content of our character. But people know these words of the prophet Amos more from Martin Luther King than they do from the Holy Bible.
Then there is our reading from Matthew. I have never gotten along very well with this parable. Why didn’t the bridesmaids who had more oil share with those who ran out? Doesn’t Christ usually teach us to share? In my conversations with other ministers I learned that I am not alone in wrestling with this scripture. However, I did gain some insight. In this culture, a bride’s husband-to-be was expected to build her a house before their wedding. The wedding would take place at a moment’s notice, when the house was ready, and the guests had to be prepared. It was the responsibility of the bridesmaids to guide the wedding party from the bride’s home to the location of the wedding. If the wise women shared their oil with the foolish women, then the wise women may not have had enough oil either, and they all would have run out of oil on their way to the wedding feast. They weren’t being mean; they were making sure that there would be enough light for the journey.
Of course, Jesus is not simply warning his listeners to be ready for a wedding. The bridesmaids represent the faithful (i.e., us), and the “bridegroom” is Christ himself. We are to be always prepared for Christ’s return, and for the Kingdom, or the Empire of God.
In the second article I read this Wednesday, UCC pastor Andrew Warner referred to this Gospel parable and said that American Christians tend to “put too much power in the hands of the president and too little in Jesus.” He pointed out that we tend to use a great deal of eschatalogical language in politics -- we act like presidents and prime ministers have as much to do with the “end times” as Jesus Christ. In making his point he quoted Ronald Reagan, in a campaign speech from 1979: “Someone once said that the difference between an American and any other kind of person is that an American lives in anticipation of the future because he knows it will be a great place.” I am sure Reagan’s listeners cheered when they heard his words, just as crowds cheered when they heard the promises for a new world made by Barack Obama and John McCain. But are we cheering for the wrong things and waiting for the wrong tomorrow? That is, do we cheer as loudly when we hear Jesus talking about “anticipation of the future” (being ready) “because we know it will be a great place?” Do we cheer as loud when we hear the prophet Amos (not just as he is quoted by Martin Luther King, Jr.), crying out for “justice [to] roll down like waters, and righteousness like an everflowing stream”?
I never liked the tone of this morning’s parable. But Rev. Warner reminded me that Jesus spoke of the ten bridesmaids as he was preparing for a night shortly before his crucifixion, when his own disciples would be separated into the wise and the foolish. The grand speeches of our politicians are often given as they are beginning their “reign” -- they are preparing for a “bright new world” under their own leadership. The Empire of God, on the other hand, will only be met after tremendous trials -- Amos warns that the day of the Lord “is darkness, not light; as if someone fled from a lion, and was met by a bear; or went into the house and rested a hand against the wall, and was bitten by a snake.” (Sounds lovely, doesn’t it?)
Like many Americans, I am hopeful about the next four years. I think most Americans, including our current President Bush, are ready for a change. I am also heartbroken that gay marriage amendments passed in three states. This is not justice. But I also need to remind myself that the American government is not the be all and end all of my life as a Christian. The “great new world” that I am hoping for will not be found in the next four years under the leadership of Barack Obama or John McCain or anybody else. It will be found in the Empire of God, under the leadership of Jesus Christ.
Now let us pray.
Sunday, November 2, 2008
Sermon 11/02/08 (Matt. 5:1-12; Rev. 7:9-17)
“Not Such Glorious Saints”
Matthew 5:1-12; Revelation 7:9-17
Rev. Désirée H. Gold
St. Mark’s United Church of Christ, Baltimore, MD
Sunday, 2 November, 2008
All Saints’ Sunday
----
 What do we know about “inheritance”? Well, often the word is used to describe money or goods that are passed down from family member to family member. For example, I inherited a bunch of pots and pans from my Great Aunt Mart, and Ben inherited a toaster oven from his parents. Paris and Nicky Hilton will inherit millions (maybe billions) of dollars from the Hilton hotel business. Sometimes inheritance is used to describe certain physical traits or personality characteristics that show themselves throughout a family. For example, “She inherited her mother’s long legs,” or “He inherited his father’s sharp temper.” My dictionary defines “inherit” as: (1.) To come into possession of; (2.) To receive property from a person by legal succession or will; or (3) To receive genetically from an ancestor. So inheritance has something to do with things being passed down from one person to another, usually within a family, and often after death.
Inheritance, in these terms, frequently causes problems. I have known happy families who have been torn apart fighting over inherited goods after a loved one dies. Offspring contest the wills that their parents carefully prepared, and spouses or siblings argue that surely they should receive a better cut of the inheritance! Inheritance, in these terms, has the potential to become nothing but a mess. But it can be a blessing too. I think of my Great Aunt Mart every time I use the pots and pans or the jacket that I inherited after her death. I never knew my grandmother, but I rejoice in the physical characteristics of hers that I inherited, as made clear by photographs or stories that my parents tell me.
On All Saints’ Day we have the opportunity to think more deeply about what we have inherited from our departed loved ones, as we mourn their deaths. Yes, this is what we do in funerals or memorial services too. But anyone who has ever grieved knows that grief does not end the moment you leave the cemetery, and it is important to set aside times to express the grief we continue to feel. There is something special about sharing our grief collectively with one another too. This past year I lost two “grandparents.” You may have lost a sister, a spouse, or even a beloved pet. But the grief we feel is essentially the same, and there is something holy about recognizing it together, in one place. “Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.”
So, too, is it important to recognize together all that we have inherited from those who have come before us. We are not speaking primarily here of inheriting brown eyes, long legs, or even pots and pans, although those things may be important to us. We are not even only talking about loved ones we knew personally. We are speaking of the long line of people who showed us how to make the world a better place -- whether they were our Aunt Mart or some glorious saint celebrated throughout history. From these people -- all faithful Christians who have come before us -- we have inherited not only the stories of our Bible, but also the examples of early, and more recent, followers of Christ.
On the more glorious end of things, we have, for example, the 16th century mystics, John of the Cross and Teresa of Avila. Saints John and Teresa worked together to found the Carmelite order, and Teresa is known not only for her deeply spiritual writings but also for her leadership as a woman in the Medieval Church.
We have Saint Elizabeth Ann Seton, who came to the United States in the 18th century and became a pioneer in health care. She serves as a namesake for many healthcare facilities today, including the hospital where I served as chaplain resident several years ago.
And, while we Protestants may not be familiar with some of these “Catholic examples,” I would venture that most of us are willing to embrace the legacy of Mother Teresa of our own time. Committed to working within the poorest segments of society, Mother Teresa proved herself a 20th century saint through her dedication, her faith, and her sense of humor.
There are many more whose life examples have hopefully given us inspiration and from whom many young people continue to inherit the legacies of faith and good works. Dietrich Bonhoeffer, the Lutheran pastor who risked his life to resist Nazism and embrace his Jewish brothers and sisters. Rosa Parks, who, through her quiet decision to rest her tired legs at the front end of a bus, inspired many to resist segregation and fight for civil rights in this country. Sister Helen Prejean, who works with both the perpetrators of violent crime and with their victims. We have inherited much from these well-known saints.
But sainthood, as we are speaking of it here, is not limited to persons who have volumes written about their lives and whose veneration the whole world will uphold for centuries following their deaths. How many of you know, or have known, saints whose good deeds are perhaps known only to you? A parent from whom you inherited a particular care for the environment? A good friend whose strength empowered you? ... A stranger?
I still recall a young man I met several years ago. We met on a Friday night. My aunt (the same great aunt from whom I inherited those pots and pans) died two days later, and the young man I had met that Friday called just to say hello. When I told him my aunt had just died, he left the party he was attending and came to my house to comfort me. We saw each other a few times after that, but I will never forget his sudden kindness on that night.
These are the saints, and the inheritance, of the church, and these are the ones we are called to remember on All Saint’s Day. They may not be glorious in the same way that an officially canonized saint of the church is. But they are saints in the eyes of God just the same. On All Saints Day we are called to bring forth the memories of these loved ones who have died, or who are no longer in our lives -- those who, through their presence with us over many years or only a few moments, strengthened our faith and taught us the legacy of Christ’s compassion. These are the ones from whom we obtain a holy inheritance. Let us remember to give thanks not only to the persons themselves, but to the God who gave them to us. Now let us pray.
Matthew 5:1-12; Revelation 7:9-17
Rev. Désirée H. Gold
St. Mark’s United Church of Christ, Baltimore, MD
Sunday, 2 November, 2008
All Saints’ Sunday
----
 What do we know about “inheritance”? Well, often the word is used to describe money or goods that are passed down from family member to family member. For example, I inherited a bunch of pots and pans from my Great Aunt Mart, and Ben inherited a toaster oven from his parents. Paris and Nicky Hilton will inherit millions (maybe billions) of dollars from the Hilton hotel business. Sometimes inheritance is used to describe certain physical traits or personality characteristics that show themselves throughout a family. For example, “She inherited her mother’s long legs,” or “He inherited his father’s sharp temper.” My dictionary defines “inherit” as: (1.) To come into possession of; (2.) To receive property from a person by legal succession or will; or (3) To receive genetically from an ancestor. So inheritance has something to do with things being passed down from one person to another, usually within a family, and often after death.
Inheritance, in these terms, frequently causes problems. I have known happy families who have been torn apart fighting over inherited goods after a loved one dies. Offspring contest the wills that their parents carefully prepared, and spouses or siblings argue that surely they should receive a better cut of the inheritance! Inheritance, in these terms, has the potential to become nothing but a mess. But it can be a blessing too. I think of my Great Aunt Mart every time I use the pots and pans or the jacket that I inherited after her death. I never knew my grandmother, but I rejoice in the physical characteristics of hers that I inherited, as made clear by photographs or stories that my parents tell me.
On All Saints’ Day we have the opportunity to think more deeply about what we have inherited from our departed loved ones, as we mourn their deaths. Yes, this is what we do in funerals or memorial services too. But anyone who has ever grieved knows that grief does not end the moment you leave the cemetery, and it is important to set aside times to express the grief we continue to feel. There is something special about sharing our grief collectively with one another too. This past year I lost two “grandparents.” You may have lost a sister, a spouse, or even a beloved pet. But the grief we feel is essentially the same, and there is something holy about recognizing it together, in one place. “Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.”
So, too, is it important to recognize together all that we have inherited from those who have come before us. We are not speaking primarily here of inheriting brown eyes, long legs, or even pots and pans, although those things may be important to us. We are not even only talking about loved ones we knew personally. We are speaking of the long line of people who showed us how to make the world a better place -- whether they were our Aunt Mart or some glorious saint celebrated throughout history. From these people -- all faithful Christians who have come before us -- we have inherited not only the stories of our Bible, but also the examples of early, and more recent, followers of Christ.
On the more glorious end of things, we have, for example, the 16th century mystics, John of the Cross and Teresa of Avila. Saints John and Teresa worked together to found the Carmelite order, and Teresa is known not only for her deeply spiritual writings but also for her leadership as a woman in the Medieval Church.
We have Saint Elizabeth Ann Seton, who came to the United States in the 18th century and became a pioneer in health care. She serves as a namesake for many healthcare facilities today, including the hospital where I served as chaplain resident several years ago.
And, while we Protestants may not be familiar with some of these “Catholic examples,” I would venture that most of us are willing to embrace the legacy of Mother Teresa of our own time. Committed to working within the poorest segments of society, Mother Teresa proved herself a 20th century saint through her dedication, her faith, and her sense of humor.
There are many more whose life examples have hopefully given us inspiration and from whom many young people continue to inherit the legacies of faith and good works. Dietrich Bonhoeffer, the Lutheran pastor who risked his life to resist Nazism and embrace his Jewish brothers and sisters. Rosa Parks, who, through her quiet decision to rest her tired legs at the front end of a bus, inspired many to resist segregation and fight for civil rights in this country. Sister Helen Prejean, who works with both the perpetrators of violent crime and with their victims. We have inherited much from these well-known saints.
But sainthood, as we are speaking of it here, is not limited to persons who have volumes written about their lives and whose veneration the whole world will uphold for centuries following their deaths. How many of you know, or have known, saints whose good deeds are perhaps known only to you? A parent from whom you inherited a particular care for the environment? A good friend whose strength empowered you? ... A stranger?
I still recall a young man I met several years ago. We met on a Friday night. My aunt (the same great aunt from whom I inherited those pots and pans) died two days later, and the young man I had met that Friday called just to say hello. When I told him my aunt had just died, he left the party he was attending and came to my house to comfort me. We saw each other a few times after that, but I will never forget his sudden kindness on that night.
These are the saints, and the inheritance, of the church, and these are the ones we are called to remember on All Saint’s Day. They may not be glorious in the same way that an officially canonized saint of the church is. But they are saints in the eyes of God just the same. On All Saints Day we are called to bring forth the memories of these loved ones who have died, or who are no longer in our lives -- those who, through their presence with us over many years or only a few moments, strengthened our faith and taught us the legacy of Christ’s compassion. These are the ones from whom we obtain a holy inheritance. Let us remember to give thanks not only to the persons themselves, but to the God who gave them to us. Now let us pray.
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