"That We May All Be One", Lent 2B Sermon

Rev. Jenny Shultz

March 1, 2015 Lent 2B

Genesis 17:1-7, 15-17

Mark 8: 31-38

“That We May All Be One”

On February 10, 2015 this world was robbed of the blessings of three beautiful lives and the love and community that they represented for so many family, friends and those of us who were impacted by their  amazing spirits of hope and generosity. 

Yusor Abu-Salha, 21, her husband, Deah Barakat, 23, and her sister, Razan Abu-Salha, 19 were brutally taken from their loved ones, murdered in cold blood, in an act of extreme violence and defilement… a man who acted against himself, against all of humanity and against God chose not only to play God, himself, by ending three innocent human lives, but in so doing broke the most sacred and ancient of covenants between the Creator and the created. A covenant which began in the garden with the breath of life that would sustain our very flesh and bones, a covenant that was later “cut” with Abraham, with the blood of animals, with the promise that his faithfulness would lead to numerous descendants and that God would always BE that—Israel’s God, then later with Noah the covenant of the colors in the sky that God would never extinguish the earth with water again, and then God extended the Abrahamic covenant to Israel once again, through Moses, in the Mosaic covenant promising that in their obedience, God would lead them into the promised land and that God would always be with them and keep them wherever they went. Finally, we experience this covenant, you and I, each and every day through the spirit of Jesus whose very essence was the covenant itself, come to replace that which was formerly “inscribed” by that which is incarnate, the holy presence of God that dwells within us. 

In this season of Lent when we are encouraged to examine our own lives, and as a community to look to the promise of God held in the light for us as we walk this journey from Lent into Eastertide, from temptation to freedom, I cannot escape the thought that the three lives of those beautiful young people, taken from us much too early, are to be reminders to us of the covenantal relationship of which we are all part, a relationship that must be nurtured and actively acknowledged if we are to move forward in society as “one"-void of the violence that extinguishes our hope and corrupts the innocent, void of the oppressive forces that seek to take life rather than to sustain it, void of the very hatred, greed, lust and insatiable desire for power and wealth that has long exploited our differences rather than uniting us under a common covenant; one of love of God and neighbor. 

”Growing up in America has been such a blessing," said Yusor Abu-Salha in a conversation with a former teacher that was recorded by the StoryCorps project last year. She said, “Although in some ways I do stand out, such as the hijab I wear on my head, the head covering, there are still so many ways that I feel so embedded in the fabric that is, you know, our culture. And that's the beautiful thing here, is that it doesn't matter where you come from. There's so many different people from so many different places, of different backgrounds and religions — but here we're all one, one culture. And it's beautiful to see people of different areas interacting, and being family. Being, you know, one community.”

Yusor was in touch with something that ran deep in her veins. She said she felt, “embedded” in the fabric of this culture and community. Perhaps what her spirit was really connected to was the covenant that bound us, Jews, Christians and Muslims, together long ago when God made a great promise to Abraham and then blessed him with many children. Included in Abraham’s offspring were Ishmael, his firstborn son, born of Haggar, Sara’s maidservant, and Ancestor to the prophet Muhammad, and then Isaac his second born son, born of Sarah, his wife, and father to Jacob, and ancestor to King David and then to Jesus himself.  

So Abraham was not only the father of Judaism, but it was his line that eventually gave birth to two other great religions of our time, both Islam and then Christianity…from the same covenant we share the same promises of God…and as Yusor stated, “We are all one”…children of the same God born of the same promise. 

If you’re a twitter user you can follow the #muslims4lent thread to see what thousands of Muslim young adults are tweeting about standing in solidarity with Christians during the season of Lent, this year, by abstaining from things for 40 days.  

College-aged girl, Saadia stands holding a sign that reads, “I’m Saadia A Muslim American in solidarity, next 40 days NO McDonalds," and another writes, “I’m Reem, a Muslim Syrian American In solidarity, Next 40 days… No COOKIeS! #muslims4lent.” 

Faisal a Muslim lebanese students says, “No Bread” next 40 days, in solidarity. #Muslims4lent. 

Muslim American entrepreneur Bassel Riche who started the campaign says, “The goal is to thank the many Christians that have always shown love and respect towards Islam by showing them we in turn have the utmost respect for their beliefs”…and he hopes the “campaign will show the true face of Islam and take the spotlight away from extremists.”  

For decades, the three monotheistic religions have been conversing in interfaith dialogue, working across the boundaries, in hopes that their efforts would help to create a shared understanding towards the call to justice for the poor, the disenfranchised, the widow and the orphan, a common sense of the sacred, of mutual respect and agency towards the common good. Rather than remaining in isolation from one another, outside of communion, they have and continue to work hard to find a common narrative that will thread our spirits together. 

From the gospel of Mark, we hear Jesus claiming something similar in his call to discipleship. He said, “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it.”

This same universal call to a common identity rooted in shared belief of God, and love of neighbor proclaimed by Jesus, and made manifest in the lives of young people such as Yusor, should inspire us this Lenten season, to look at ourselves, examining the very core of our beings, our allegiances, asking ourselves the question… What does it mean to deny myself, to lose my life for the sake of the gospel, that I might save it?

Associate Professor of Preaching at Luther Seminary, Karoline Lewis, like me, was baffled at the first reading of the Genesis and Mark lectionary pairings for today, but decided to sit with it awhile before abandoning her efforts to make sense of what the biblical narrative was trying to tell her. 

She said, “But I stuck with it for a while, and here’s what I started seeing. Abraham and Sarah? To what extent they ‘deny themselves’ just as Jesus asks. But it’s not a denial of the self. It’s a denial of remaining by themselves. That is, they deny a life that is autonomous, secured, enclosed, safe, and just the two of them, for a life that propels them into relationship -- with God and with a future realized by abounding relationship.”

I wonder if this is exactly what Jesus means.

If we ask ourselves the question, “What does it mean to deny myself, to lose my life for Jesus’ sake, and for the sake of the gospel” with the backdrop of covenantal relationship propping us up we might just find that the way forward includes a denial of selfhood “when it rescinds relationship, a denial of autonomy when it refuses community, a denial of individualism when it rejects intimacy.” 

About the Muslims4Lent campaign Riche said, “Despite what our extremists have done to hijack our religion, we believe in peace, love, tolerance & harmony with other faiths. We don’t want to be seen as some distant, mysterious faith, we want to be accessible for people to open up to us…” 

Would it not have been easier for Abraham and Sarah to remain as Lewis says, by themselves, free to live without the pressure of an abounding legacy, without the impending thought of childbirth… I know that I am nearly 60 years their younger and i’m telling you having a baby is no easy task… chasing a toddler around is not for the weary, physically or emotionally. Theirs was a denial of the life they’d always known, the security of home, the assurance of what lie ahead, aging together until the they were no more, just the two of them side by side sitting in their rocking chairs, staring up at the night sky. Theirs was a denial of self which unveiled the expanse of community, opened up their world to family, to laughter and crying, to brokenness and burdens, to celebrations and thanksgivings, to relationships…bound-up in the promises of God. 

Like Yusor, who opened her life up to the other, made her life accessible, which in turn has shown the world the true identity of a faithful Muslim, and her goal…that we may all be one… we may need to ask ourselves some hard questions. 

What is it in your life threatens the birth of new relationships, of “whole” and satisfying relationships with those you encounter every day… your family, your parents, your siblings, your children? What serves as a barrier for you in reaching out to the other, in finding unity among differences, and harmony rather than fear or judgement? 

What is it that holds you back from living in community, of opening yourself up to a life of intimacy? 

As children of God, and adoptees into a shared covenant we will all find ourselves in the place of Abraham and Sara at different times in our lives. Will we decide to look gracefully and faithfully towards the Easter promise of life and abundance, holding the promise of oneness to our chests, or will our fears of the unknown, and worship of our individualism keep us from denying that which could set us free, make us whole?  

Jesus said, “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me”.  

May it be so…Amen. 

   

Ash Wednesday Sermon: Feb. 18, 2015

Rev. Jenny Shultz
Matthew 6:1-6, 16-21
1 Corinthians 5:20b-6:10
Ash Wednesday, Feb. 18, 2015
             

                                                 

                                               “Dreaming Smaller”

Founding Pastor of Grace Commons in Chicago, Nanette Sawyer wrote a wonderful article in this month’s Christian Century magazine, an Ash Wednesday reflection, asking herself the question, “Could I treasure washing the dishes?” Reflecting on the Corinthians text she says “This would mean treasuring the fact that I am alive - as Paul puts it, that I am “treated… as having nothing and yet possessing everything”  If I could do it, she said, I would remember and experience what a miracle life is.  Throughout the remainder of the article she contemplates how her life might look, feel and be experienced differently if only she could remember that she was “alive” each and every day.

And this is where I think she connects truly with what the gospel is inherently about: She says,

“If I could treasure washing the dishes, I would not be storing up treasures on earth “where moth and rust consume” and “thieves break in and steal.”  But I would be storing up treasures in heaven, treasures of the heart, treasures of love and honor and simply joy.

I would be fasting in secret, too.  Secretly I would be giving up my fear that I am not enough, that my life is not enough, that there is not enough time or money or reward, that there is not enough suffering to atone for all that has been done wrongly in the world.  I would be giving up resentment that life includes more work than play.  I would let that resentment go, and I would find the play in work.  I would do my work for the doing and not for the outcome. I would realize that I am alive for this— to serve, to try to make the world a better place, to love through the efforts I make. And sometimes I would serve the world by doing less, by having smaller dreams, by letting enough be good enough and trusting that our value comes from the fact that we exist.”

I know that I struggle on a daily basis with feeling like my good is good enough. And I know that I am not alone. More often than not my obsessive thinking these days is around being a good enough Mommy… with a two year-old running around I think this is only natural, but it doesn’t keep me from doing what we parents do best- compare ourselves to all of the other parents in the world. That’s right, in order for us mommies to feel better about our mommy skills & selves we typically seek the most important and influential resource of our time, the most reliable wisdom-filled parenting source out there… FACEBOOK.  That’s right…we read dozens of Facebook articles most-often posted by other mommies about what they are doing or not doing with their babies and toddlers. Did they breastfeed, did they co-sleep with their child, did they let their baby “cry it out?”, did they make all of their own mashed-up sticky baby food from organic fruits and veggies, did they record every single day in a 1000 photos or more of which they shared on 6 social media sites, did they join a mommy group and a playgroup so that their infants could all lie on their blankets and practice rolling over together, did they stay home from work after delivering the baby to devote all of out time and energy to being the best mommy possible???????? And the list goes on and on, doesn’t it?

This weekend while procrastinating writing this sermon I was browsing Facebook when I stumbled across something my sister-in-law posted called “Mommy Guilt Bingo”.  And the comparing began…

The first line of squares had me feeling pretty good, I was still an average mommy having served pizza for dinner, and with an incomplete baby book, but I could still at least take pride in the fact that I have not yet picked my child up from daycare in yoga pants with bedhead, or used the tv as a babysitter…and have not yet heard Sage repeating a 4 letter word. Phew!

Then, on to the second line…Failed to cherish every moment today, Birthday party wasn’t pinterest worthy (because we didn’t have a birthday party)…I work outside the home, i have on the rare occasion purchased non-organic produce when I just refused to drive across town to Whole Foods, and last, but not least I have bribed my toddler with a completely sugar-infested high fructose corn syrup laden lollipop- even just this week!  And then, as I made my way through the bingo board - there it was - the real reason that mommy hood seems like an epic failure at times… I had an epidural!

Am I a good enough Mommy? Am I parenting to the best of my ability? Feeding him the right foods, playing the right games, making the right friends, choosing the right schools, the right playgrounds, the right playgroups? Am I spending enough time with my sweet boy? Am I letting the nanny do the mommy’s job? Is my best Mommy-self good enough?

Rev. Sawyer said, “treasuring washing the dishes was a way, for her, of storing up treasures in heaven, treasures of the heart, treasures of love and honor and simply joy, and a means of fasting in secret.  Secretly, she said, she would be giving up her fear that she is not enough, that her life is not enough.

What if we could do our work for the doing and not for the outcome, work for progress because we believe that our efforts can change the world for the better rather than progress for progress’ sake, what if we would parent our children moment by moment without obsessing over the future, about the unknown, celebrating each diaper change because it reminds us that we are alive, sweeping the
floor with a whistle on our lips because we know that life is as brief as the moments between our
births until the time we will lie down for the last time, that with every nap time battle, each teenage infraction, and marital conflict- we can look in the mirror and be reminded that our best is good enough, that we are good enough simply because we exist. Sawyer reminds us that in so doing,  “we are alive to serve, to try to make the world a better place, to love through our efforts, however small they may be. What if we could treasure washing the dishes?

As we prepare ourselves for this Lenten season, dipped in the ashen reminder of our fragility, a time to reflect upon our own lives, and to explore what it means to be “reconciled to God”,  perhaps leaning deeply into these questions: am I enough simply because I exist, and could my life be such that the smallest of moments, those often overlooked, could be life-giving for me? …perhaps living with an orientation towards this smallness could be God’s kingdom come, God’s will be done in your life as it is in Heaven.

Sometimes, said Rev. Swayer,
“I would serve the world by doing less, by having smaller dreams, by letting enough be good enough and trusting that our value comes from the fact that we exist.”

When is the last time, if ever, you heard someone suggest that serving the world might mean “doing less”, having smaller dreams? I don’t quite think she meant what we might assume with the initial hearing of these words, that we should dream smaller, aspire to less, but with “small-er” dreams… not larger than life, but precisely life-sized, not overreaching, but reaching just far enough, not above the table where our eyes scan the room falling upon each and every color and size that this world would have us seek, but at table, and below the table where we can see what is directly in front of us, where our feet, sitting side by side, can reach the floor and where what’s sitting just below us is not out of our reach.

Brother Lawrence, a 17th century monastic brother, whose name was Nicolas Herman of Lorraine, worked for 15 years in the monastery kitchen and then the rest of his years as a sandal maker for the Carmelites of Paris. He is best known for his writings and correspondence collected in the historical text The Practice of the Presence of God, later edited by Harold Chadwick.  

For Brother Lawrence doing less, and dreaming smaller was the largest, most expansive thing in his life.
He said, “It matters not to me what I do or what I suffer, so long as I abide lovingly united to God’s will—that is my whole business.  I am in the hands of God, and He has his own good purposes regarding me.  I do not concern myself, therefore, about anything that people can do to me.  If I cannot serve God here, I will find some place else in which to serve him.
Since I first entered the religious life, I have looked on God as the goal and end of all the thoughts and affections of the soul.  Possessed thus entirely with the greatness and the majesty of God’s infinite being, i went straightway to the place that duty had marked out for me- the kitchen.
There, when I had carried out all that called for me, I gave to prayer whatever time remained, and also prayed before my work and after.
Before beginning any task I would say to God, with childlike trust:
O Lord, be with me in this my work, accept the labor of my hands, and dwell within my heart with all Thy fullness.”

I believe that as we remember the life of Jesus and listen to his teachings from Matthew’s gospel about personal piety and prayer, and his encouragement towards the secret life, that when we do in secret we will be rewarded in secret,

and then we turn the pages to hear a disciple of Jesus, a committed follower to the way,
calling the church to be reconciled to God, we see a window opening up for us, to see ourselves as “more than enough”, an invitation to live into this divine “smallness”…

When I was in seminary I lived in an apartment complex that had a lake at it’s center, and most days before school I would run around the lake 5 or 6 times as part of preparing myself for the day. And, without fail, each time I would round the Southwest corner of the lake I would come upon an older man named George. George was always standing in the same place near the southwest bank just in front of an old wooden bench with a bag full of bread crumbs where he would patiently wait for the ducks. Most days I just smiled or waved and continued on my run, but on occasion I would stop and sit on the bench near George and just enjoy being in the company of his humble routine, watching and observing his interactions with the wild around him. George was hard of hearing, and was a disabled war veteran, so for the last 17 years had lived in this complex and found it his sacred business to attend to the ducks of this very lake. Before I moved that final spring semester I went on one final run hoping to run into George, but what I found was even more compelling… as I rounded the corner this time, I saw a small boy in the same place with one hand full of bread crumbs, and the other extended upwards held in the gentle grip of an older man… it was George. He was sharing the joy and grace of his practice with his grandson.

In response to Paul’s letter to the Corinthians,

What if we, like George, understood reconciliation with God as a “life-sized” task, and rather than just sizing up the unjustness around us and calculating what piece of the greater puzzle we might play in the great healing of our world we could see the call as personal and as small as one life at a time… as small as the boxes we inhabit, the cars in which we ride, the tables at which we sit, the sacred spaces of our lives that are captured in moments as in a frame… in the mowing of the lawn, the putting our children to bed at night, tucking them in on all sides, the diligent reading that our students must complete on this very night, the emails and papers, and presentations and tasks that hold us captive in time, with deadlines and action points awaiting, with difficult conversations looming over us, disappointment trending in our midst.  What if being reconciled to God meant simply abiding with God, as Brother Lawrence expressed saying, “It matters not to me what I do or what I suffer, so long as I abide lovingly united to God’s will—that is my whole business.”

You may be thinking, “Yes, but I am not a monk or a priest, nor one to even aspire to personal piety”, but what can be true for each of us in this time and space as we occupy the flesh and bones that house our souls, that share a common beginning and ending—is that a great treasure, a gift that can only be recognized, unpacked and experienced in “reconciliation” awaits us even now. The gift of the present, of being alive to ourselves and alive to what and who are in our midst, the gift of working as with a whistle on our lips, of feeding the ducks faithfully for 17 years, of loving today as if our hearts would be gone tomorrow, the gift of looking in the mirror and discovering that “enough” is not found in What we complete, but in who we are made complete.

Covering ourselves in Ash this evening is a way to mark this joinery in faith, to receive the call to journey with Jesus these next 40 days… to take a deep breath and rather than looking up, scanning the horizon searching for what’s next,  what else, what am I missing?? we are invited to meet one another at eye level, to see as Jesus did, those at table and beneath the table cherishing the very seconds and minutes that form our communal life… And we are invited to contemplate the question, “What if I treasured washing the dishes?”

I pray that as we leave this place tonight we will dare to dream in life-sized pictures, in real time, and that these next several weeks we will take the time to look into the mirror of our lives, and looking with our hearts, believe that what and who we see is enough, and though we may be someone who is “treated… as having nothing we may be found to possess everything”.


Thanks be to God. Amen.

Sermon Audio Recording, Escaping the Dissonance

This sermon was originally preached on Sunday, August 24, 2014.

Escaping the Dissonance, by Jenny Shultz
Proper 16: Year A
Matthew 16:13-20

http://unitedchurch.org/sermon/reverend-jenny-shultz/

World Prayers for Peace, February 1, 2015

Prayers of the People: February 1, 2015

Surrounded by the presence of the Holy One of God, let us pray together.

Holy One, we gather in worship this morning seeking your presence, your grace and your wisdom. Humbly we gather to hear your words of hope and encouragement so that we may faithfully live out your message of justice and peace.

Confident that you have come to us, we offer our prayers for people and places close to our hearts and for the people and places that are unknown to us.

• We offer prayers of healing for the 280 child soldiers who were freed in South Sudan. We pray that all children will be free to be children, to play, to laugh and sleep peacefully at night. We pray for all who work endlessly for the rights of children the world over.
• We pray for the 43 students who went missing in September in the southern state of Guerrero, Mexico.  We pray for their families and friends as they hear reports that the students may be dead.
• We pray for all who are displaced. We pray for those who live in refugee camps and for all who live in captivity. We remember before you Kenji Goto of Japan.
• We pray for the EU foreign ministers as they meet in Brussels. May they work together to find  ways to bring peace and justice and stability to the EU.
• We pray for your creation. As we hear reports of E. Coli in the water in Winnipeg, Canada; an earthquake in East Midlands, England; snow storms in North England and the North Eastern United States; the drought in São Paulo, Rio de Janeiro, and Mina’s Gerais, Brazil. We pray for all who are affected by these events.

And now in the silence of our hearts we offer you the prayers that we carry with us this day.
(http://www.worldinprayer.org)

Sermon: Feb. 1, 2015: "A Holy #Occupation"

Mark 1: 21-28

Rev. Jenny Shultz 

"A Holy #Occupation"

I am an historical fiction junkie!  And one of my favorite authors of late is Kate Morton an eldest sister of three who grew-up in the Australian countryside.  Kate has written several books of which I have read every single one including The Distant Hours, The House at Riverton, the Secret Keeper, and my personal favorite The Forgotten Garden. I am currently eagerly awaiting the announcement of her next work which I will download and read by sundown on the very day its released.  Anybody have a favorite author like that? Who are they? John Green? Tolkein? J.K. Rawlings? Others?  Or maybe for you it’s music and an artist?  

What I love most about her writing is the incredible way in which she can re-create a scene and rather than just inviting the reader to come on the journey with her she expects that the reader is already part of the story, and writes with the assumption that with each new page that is turned the reader’s life, my emotions, my expectations, my fears, and my journey, are the light that illumines the way forward… my presence is assumed yet never taken for granted.   

One of the amazing things about Mark, the gospel writer that we encounter in today’s book, and why I really also love to read Mark’s gospel, is that Mark is an up front kind a guy… meaning he never leaves the reader hanging.  He too, with a vivid and clear style, imaginative, but with an unswerving altitude that manages to bring to climax that which you’ve just begun to piece together, Mark assumes that the reader is already part of the story and that this business about Jesus, whom Isaiah lifted up, whom God has sent and who would rock the world was powerful enough to stand on his own, no need for lace and pearls, for the building of suspense or character development… Mark assumes, authoritatively, that the messenger himself and the message are glam and glitz enough!  Let’s take a look: 

In just 45 verses, that’s less than 1000 words (for all of you students out there that have had to cram in your best and brightest into 1000 word essays), in the very 1st chapter of the book, Mark records the inauguration of Jesus’ ministry like this, first with the Heavens being torn open at Jesus’ baptism, his temptation in the desert with the devil and what we’ll call the “wild animals”, his first Sermon, the calling of the first 4 disciples, an exorcism of an unclean man in the temple, a healing of a friend’s mother-in-law, in her home followed by a mass exorcism and healing session for people with all kinds of ailments—also in her HOME—Mark says the Whole Town gathered at her door, then Jesus spends the morning on a personal prayer retreat, and finally heals a leper…And all of this, writes Mark, eventually leaves Jesus in a lonely place. Mark states in the last verse of ch. 1, “As a result [of all of this miraculous work and power], Jesus could no longer enter a town openly, but stayed outside in lonely places.” And yet… the people still came to him from everywhere. 

You see Mark wants to be sure that we know who we are dealing with right off the bat. I mean, I don’t know about your experiences, but I can say that I’ve never witnessed the Heavens being ripped open with a beautiful bird descending upon anyone in my presence… I mean maybe I’m not looking close enough… and you may have had a similar encounter?  

The question of authority such that we read in today’s text is dealt with before the questions are even asked. Anytime you or I pick up a new novel, or a biography to read, we begin by asking the same question, “Who is this person, this protagonist, really, and can I get on board with his or her story, do I buy this?”  And when reading Mark, the answer is pretty clear: 

Jesus is a rebel, a radical, a boundary breaker, who speaks with Authority…and in today’s story, of “the exorcism” this fact is exponentially confirmed. Jesus claims with power an in-breaking, Heaven ripped open truth, that would be for all a new kind of possession, a radical indwelling, a holy occupation, that would send even the vilest of demons, crippling illnesses and impurities of this world shrieking with fear.  

I want to share a story with you, more like a modern day parable, that I recently read about Pastor Jim and his family. 

Jim writes: 

A number of years ago, we moved to Seattle, Washington, and we bought a house. This house was a catastrophic mess. The foundation of the house had sunk; the floors had sunk four to five inches; the big picture windows in the living room were cracked; the plaster board on the walls was cracked. This house was one glorious, ugly, nasty disaster.  (Anyone seen the 80’s movie: Money Pit?)

Well, it was not only the inside of the house that was a catastrophic disaster; so was the outside.  On all sides of our house, to the East, South, West and North, black berry bushes were sprawling in every direction. These were lovely, voluptuous, full growing, large stemmed blackberry bushes. And these bushes had been growing for years, perhaps decades. If you are a person who loves blackberry pie or blackberry wine or blackberry cider, our house was the house to buy. We had blackberries to feed our entire neighborhood.  

So, after moving into our house, I made a decision. I declared war on the blackberry bushes. I said to myself out loud, “I have come to destroy you.”

To begin my war with the blackberry bushes, I needed a little help on how to get rid of these lushly growing vines. I went to the resident gardener in the congregation who was an old Norwegian by the name of Al Lunde. He was one smart old coot, Old Man Lunde was… he had his personal remedies for fixing everything. Old Man Lunde knew about gardening, Mother Nature, and blackberry bushes. Old Man Lunde said, “So you wanna get rid of all dos old blackberry bushes? What you do is to go out there in the middle of winter, in the very middle of the annual big freeze, and cut those suckers off as low as you can to the ground.” That made sense. So I waited until February and the big freeze came on. It was cold, freezing, really cold for Seattle, Washington and I went out that morning with my scythe which I had borrowed from Old Man Lunde, and I cut them all down. I then did a pastoral thing. That is, I prayed for the Lord to continue the big freeze for a few days. Then that cold, freezing air would get down into those roots and kill the blackberry bushes. I turned my back on them, and a few months later, I looked, and again the blackberry bushes were crawling all over the yard.  North, South, East and West. What was I going to do? 

The war was still on, and the blackberry bushes had won the first battle.

So I approached my elderly neighbor by the name of Al, Al Powell, who was a retired Boeing engineer, and a great gardener. I said to Al, “I got this problem with my blackberry bushes. What do I do to actually get rid of them?” He said, “Amitrol! Amitrol will do in the blackberry bushes every time. Lots of it.” I bought gallons of Amitrol and began to spray them the next spring when they were just leafing out. I spayed them from top to bottom, backwards and forwards, inside and out, again and again. I sprayed them relentlessly. Those blackberry bushes shriveled up and got nice and brown. I cut the brown brambles off and burned them. I felt so momentarily proud. I turned my back for a few months and lo and behold, those blackberry bushes were all back again, laughing and smiling at me. All those black berry bushes wanting to grow berries to be pies and wines and cobblers. What should I do? The blackberry bushes won the second battle.

So I telephoned people at the University of Washington. I asked for the blackberry warfare department. A professor of horticulture said to me, “You have to go after their roots. Those roots, after all these years of growth, are down deep. You have to dig them up, one at a time.”

For one week I dug. Then Another week. Week after week. Month after month. I dug at those banks of blackberry bushes. With a big pick and an iron bar, with sweat and tears and grumbling, I dug down until I found a knotty root ball way down deep in the ground. It was the worst job of my life. I found an enormous root system, big roots, big knotty root balls, miles of them, so it seemed. I dug and dug. I turned my back on them for a period of time, and when I looked back, they there were again, but smaller, considerably smaller. I pulled out these little sprigs one at a time.

I planted my lawn. I planted my garden. I planted my tam junipers, rhododendrons, azaleas and my ivy so that these plants would take over the yard and the bank. These plants started to grow and grow, and After about ten years, the battle was won. I had destroyed the blackberry bushes, I had won the battle. 

What I found out at that time is that my yard was either going to be occupied with a good lawn and good rhododendrons and azaleas and tam junipers and ivy or it was going to be occupied by the blackberry bushes. It was either or. You see, the land never remained neutral. Either the land was ruled by weeds or it was ruled by beautiful plantings. It never remained neutral. It is never neutral. Never. The land is always ruled by that which is good or that which is not so good… it is never neutral.  (Pastor Edward ("Jim") F. Markquart)

You see, God didn’t rip the Heavens wide open at the start of Mark’s gospel to sell newspapers or as a publicity stunt… God sent a reminder to God’s people of their part in the story, and of God’s already indwelling presence in the world, that the battle was never about winning “lost” or “neutral” souls, because a soul is never lost or neutral…never on neutral ground…it is always either or, possessed by the power of God or that which opposes God’s power and authority.  Jesus knew this, and the way in which Mark tells this story shows us that he knew it too.

Mark, again, is writing with the assumption that we, the readers, are part of the story, and therefore, let’s envision ourselves in the temple gathered around Jesus and as invested observers as folks are crowding in, we observe two contrasting responses to the same “message”; a. Mark writes, “The people were amazed at his teaching, because he taught them as one who had authority b. there was a man who, Mark says, at the same time, shouted out at Jesus responding with aversion to Jesus’ presence.  This man, in contrast to those who responded to Jesus’ message, responded to the messenger, Jesus himself when he was accosted by the power of the Spirit, the man possessed with an impure spirit said, ‘What do you want with us, Jesus of Nazareth? Have you come to destroy us? I know who you are—the Holy One of God!”

It’s so important that we the hear the differences here in what is actually taking place, and what Mark brings to light in such a subtle way.  

It is obvious enough that Jesus walks into a room and folks either respond to his presence and teaching with amazement or judgement, with praise and sympathy for his message or with rejection and opposition to it.  What is not clear in this temple gallery, as Jesus enters the preach-in per se, is that neutrality, in fact, does not exist, was never possible, that possession is inherently the default position of these souls gathered here. The real question then was not “Was this man possessed?” or as in the Pastor Jim’s experience, “Was the lawn taken over by something?” But “by what?” or “by whose power“ was this man possessed?  

This past Wednesday I stood beside the Reverend William Barber in the NC Legislative building as he rose behind a microphone surrounded by clergy of all different faiths including many UCC pastors, and claimed the power and authority given us in the name of Jesus, by God’s own hand, justice for all. He reminded the legislators, voters, hearers and those gathered around that Justice is neither neutral or partisan, it is not a luxury for which clergy have chosen to rally behind.  Advocating and establishing justice for all is rather both a direct commandment from God that as moral and civilized people should be inherent in our care for one another, and that advocating for and establishing justice for all, as Barber proclaimed is also a direct obligation and should be of first priority for public officers representing the people of our state and nation. Either our laws stand on the side of justice or they don’t, either you cast a vote for justice or you cast a vote that directly opposes the power to transform, to feed and nourish to instill hope and pride, to care for, and create a system that judicially represents the inalienable rights of all people.  Possession my friends is a given… we are either given to the life-giving power and authority of God or we are slave to the opposing voices, forces, competing gods and lords that will drive us to immoral acts in order to gain all this world has to offer.  

If nothing else, hear this, Proclaiming, and living the gospel is not about winning people over to God, through persuasive theological debates, or apologetic demonstrations… it’s about understanding that the little g-gods of this world; greed, the hunger for power and possessions, self-indulgence, pride, can all lead to the abuse of power over others, these gods (as Paul reminds us in 1 Corinthians) only have as much power over us as we give them authority. The most miraculous experience, that we as temple observers gathered around Jesus today can walk away with as newly transformed and newly inspired to do this justice work together is, in fact, a miracle, the miracle of encountering the living God… whose power is so pure and whose authority is so present than it cannot be denied. Remember the temple man possessed by that which was in direct opposition to the love and power of God when encountered the spirit of Jesus he had no choice but to confront Jesus and, as we saw was set free by his encounter, was newly, radically occupied by a holy, powerful possession… 

When we look around the world, at any given time, turn on any news station, or hop onto any social networking sight we see that our global “streets are being occupied”, possessed by a carnal inertia to thrive, an innate response to the threat of annihilation, a hunger and thirst for justice, righteousness.    

It may be helpful to ask yourself this evening, what is possessing you?  Remember, the soul is never neutral, it is either given over to the love and power of God or that which is in direct opposition to the love and power of God.  

It is my hope that we all leave this place tonight as possessed, radical, boundary-breaking, justice hungry rebels in the name of Jesus Christ.  May it be so.  Amen.