One of Twelve

How We Count People and Sin

One of the Twelve
a sermon by Rev. J. Christy Ramsey

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Audio from worship at St Paul’s Lutheran Family, Carson City, NV on April 11.2021

John 20:19-31

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One of the twelve. Did you catch that? There’s a lot going on in the scripture. But in the 24th verse, the first line of the second paragraph of the reading, we read this: “One of the twelve.” I caught my breath when I read that this year because I realized there wasn’t twelve. Judas was gone. Eleven. Thomas is not there. He’s absent. Ten. What about that young man that ran away in Mark? Nine. How about that rough old fisherman that denied Jesus three times? Eight. “One of the twelve.” How do you count in a fearful time? How many people are here today?

In my day job, I’m the clerk of the Presbytery of Nevada. All the Presbyterian churches in Nevada, a couple lost souls in California we took pity on and a couple others, report to me how many people came to worship last year on average. And they were calling me and say, “What are we going to put down? What’s the right answer? We haven’t met since March. Our average is zero in worship.”

What do we put down? Does Zoom count? How about if there’s two in the little boxes? What if there’s just a strange picture of Wonder Woman every week? Is that really a person? And YouTube views. Does that have to be on Sunday? Or what if we took the whole count? And then there’s Facebook. And then sometimes people do all three at once. I don’t know how they do it, but they do it. How are we going to count how many are a part of us in a fearful time?

If Jesus, and I’ve asked him, came in and could tell me the number, what would he say? What would he say here? What would he say there? How many are in the room? Scriptures, the author of John seems to think all of them were there. “One of the twelve.”

Gallup has something to say. If you know George Gallup and his organization, he’s gone, but the organization goes on. Have you seen the study that just came out? For the first time in the history of this nation church membership is below 50%. The most common membership of church, United States is “none” for the first time ever. Well, we’ve been seeing it coming. It’s been sliding on down. And it’s not just those avocado-eating, toast-eating young people. Even the greatest generations, their percentage has gone down. Every age group, boomers, you name it, everyone, church membership has gone down. We’re at 47%. 1999, not so long ago, we were at 70%.

“No religion” is getting a boost. They’ve gone from 8% up to 21%. Others are kind of in that fuzzy crazy thing of, yeah, I’m with you, but I’m never there kind of thing; you know? I don’t know, you know, you don’t have to worry. I’m not a Lutheran. But in Presbyterian church, half of people who claim they’re Presbyterian aren’t. We have no record of them. One out of two Presbyterians aren’t Presbyterian. So there’s those people.

Now, you may tell me, Christy, no one joins anything anymore. The Book of the Month Club is way far away. People aren’t joiners. They don’t sign up for things. They don’t go to clubs. I mean, look at the Grange. You know, that used to be great. Not so much anymore. Look at the Masons. Look at all the fraternal and lodges, Odd Fellows, the Moose, all those things are all having trouble. And I said, well, okay, maybe. But are you a member of Amazon Prime? That seems to be doing pretty well. Have you heard about this thing called Facebook? I think they’ve got more members than there are people in the world, sharing their lives, encouraging or discouraging one another, making connections, building up, tearing down. Sounds like something we used to do.

Heck fire, even Best Buy is rolling out a membership plan. I don’t know exactly what that would mean, but I’m signing up. And political parties? I don’t know about you, but it seems like a lot more people are joining up political parties. And youth sports. Is there any youth that isn’t a member of two, three organizations? My goodness. So I don’t think we can just say, well, no one’s joining nothing. I don’t think so.

So how do we count? You know, this Sunday we skipped over – did you notice there’s two Sundays in the scripture? It’s really unfair for a preacher to have two Sundays in one Sunday’s reading. I mean, you should separate them out because we forget about that first Sunday, and we look at the second Sunday. You know, the one about the proof and the doubt and the goriness that if we weren’t used to it would be rated “M” on the graphic novel; you know? There’s going to be some hand in the side. Ugh. We skip over that. We talk about the proof and the denial and the doubt and the faith and all this other stuff. There are plenty of sermons on that. I got a couple on the Internet, if you’re really desperate.

But I want to talk about the first Sunday after Easter. You know, today. Where the Bible says one of the twelve wasn’t there. Well, then there wasn’t twelve there, was there, Bible. Bible knows that. Bible knows that Judas is gone. Bible knows that Peter’s not out in the open. Bible knows that one of the disciples ran away. Yet the Bible still says twelve. What happened that first Sunday with the twelve? Jesus came back, and the sermon went something like this. You might recognize it. There was peace. Peace. There was ritual actions. There was joy. And there was a message.

Did you catch it? It closed the service, sermon at the end, classic structure. Jesus said, if you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven. If you retain the sins of any, they are retained. Of all the things to say the Sunday after Easter. If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven. If you retain the sins of any, they are retained. Of all the things Jesus could tell them, coming back from hell, rising from the dead, triumphant over the worst the empire could give him, he says about forgiving sins of any, but also warns them about retaining sins of any.

Now, immediately, what did we do as a church? We immediately took this little scripture, and we made a huge big patriarchal power structure, hierarchical, ecclesiastical, with all sorts of penance and potions and indulgences and wherefore and courts and censors and discipline and all this. I don’t think that’s what Jesus had in mind this first Sunday after Easter. He didn’t think that we were going to make some kind of religious industrial complex out of forgiving and sinning and forgiving and penance and rules and what you have to do to get back right.

And look who was there that first Sunday? Look who was not? A denier, deserter, doubter, and all of them despairing. And to this group he says “peace.” There’s no peace, Jesus. Rome is after us. The Jewish, our own people are after us. We’re hiding here. But you see, peace isn’t the peace we think of, absence of war, safety from conflict. Peace is much, much more than that. Peace is everything is where it should be. Everything is in its place. Everything is fitting. Everything is cozy. Everything is the way that God wants it to be. Peace, peace. The twelve are here because God’s peace is here, and all is where it should be. Peace.

But if you think of peace as the way God wants the world to be, where everything is fitting, where everybody has what they need to live, where everything is cozy, if you will, then you can understand sin. Sin is not some morality play, some purity test, some list of morals or do’s and don’ts. It isn’t about a dress code. It isn’t about a date code. It isn’t about what you pledge to do or not do on a certain time and place. Sin is not doing God’s will. If you are not conforming, if you’re going against what God wants you to do, that is sin. Which is the opposite of peace. Peace is what God wants the world to be like, what relationships should be. Sin is when we don’t do that, when we rebel. When we don’t do what God wants. When we do things for selfish things. When we don’t have our place in society and with people.

And you could think of that first Sunday. You think this is a tough worship service? Mass? Social distancings? No coffee? No hugs? Imagine those people back then. That was a bad Sunday. Jesus dead. Doors locked. Fear of the authorities. Peace. To this he says “peace.” To them he says the world. Let’s not talk sin. Let’s talk about it. If you forgive the way the world is not like what God wants, if you can forgive the way people are not the way God wants them to be, well, then they are forgiven. And I think there were some uncomfortable looks around the room. Was a denier there? Did people kind of look to the side? Say that guy, that guy we have to forgive? God wants peace between me and that guy who couldn’t even say he was with us the time we needed him? Was there a couple people? You know there was. That looked at that empty chair where Judas always sat, you know, that’s where he was. He was just there last week. One of the twelve. That guy. I hate him. You tell me to forgive him? Our things will still be broken.

Or the guy who ran away, not named, in Mark. Was he there? Was the guy who locked the door, oh, we’ve got to. You never know, things are coming to get us. You know who this is. Conspiracy theory guy. He’s everywhere. Even back then. We’ve got to make up with him? What about Thomas? Thomas. He didn’t even show up. We haven’t seen that guy. He’s given up. I hear he went back to work. Him? If you forgive, that’s a lot more tough than some kind of purity test or some kind of moral law, to hear Jesus say you get right with the folks that aren’t the way God wants them to be. And that will fix things.

And then there’s judgment. He warns those folks because he knew. He could read a room. He looked around, and it’s, oh, geez, I’m going to come back next week. You guys got some homework. If you don’t do this, if you retain, if you keep this up, if you keep acting like this, the way God wants the world to be will continue to be broken. The world will continue to be in sin, meaning not the way God wants it to be. If you want to save the world, you can’t keep going after the folks and the things that don’t measure up to God, God’s will.

How do you get rid of sin? We might say repent. We might say get on the right course. We might say penance, depending on our tradition. We might say confession. We might say a lot of things. But the Bible today says the way to get rid of sin is to forgive. To forgive. And are forgiven. And if you don’t forgive, if you retain, if you’re still mad at Peter, you’re still mad at Peter for not having the guts to stand up and support you, if you’re still mad at Thomas for not showing up on Sunday like he’s supposed to, if you’re still mad at Judas, well, then, guess what? Sin’s going to continue. The world’s not going to be the way God wants it to be. And there will be no peace.

And I’ll be here next week and see how you’re doing. Somebody was listening. Somebody took it to heart. Somebody went out to Thomas. You know, they didn’t say Thomas, oh, you really missed something, Thomas. Shame on you for not showing up. Thomas, we have seen the Lord. We have seen what God wants for the world. We have seen Jesus. Here’s our faith. I know you don’t have any. Here’s some. And even though he was a jerk about it, and don’t raise a hand, but how many people you talk to are jerks about things now? Yeah, they’re out in force. Even though he was a jerk about it and says, well, I ain’t calling you a liar, but you’re lying. Unless I see it, it didn’t happen. You still invite that guy to church? They did. They listened to Jesus. And the next week the doors were shut. They weren’t locked. At least they didn’t say they locked. They were just shut. Progress, not perfection.

You know, Jesus answered him, asked him, have you believed because you’ve seen me? I wonder what Thomas would say? Because you know what, he didn’t actually, we don’t have actually that he didn’t actually poke Jesus like he said he had to. He didn’t actually slide his hand in there. At least it’s not in the Bible that he did that. I’m wondering if Thomas said, well, not because I saw you. I’m here because of these guys. Even after me being a jerk and abandoning them, they came and got me. And I didn’t see you. I didn’t poke you. I didn’t look at your wounds before I came to church.

I’m glad you’re here. But the reason I’m here, the reason I’m being faithful is because of these people around me that told me I didn’t have to be perfect, that they forgave me when I abandoned them. That they forgave me for being a jerk and not believing them. And that’s what healed me. Nothing that I did. But the love and forgiveness that the other people have shown to me, that’s what got rid of it. You know, if they didn’t go after Thomas and tell him and invite him, if they retained his behavior that God didn’t want, I wonder if the Bible would say eleven instead of twelve.

Friends, we’ve got some work to do. Going to be a tremendous adjustment as we come to something else other. Already, you’ve already done that, I applaud you. Are we retaining sins or forgiving them? Are we forgiving that things aren’t the way God wants them to be and pronouncing peace? Everyone has a place, and you fit in here somehow. We’re going to make it work. Or are we going to retain the brokenness and the way things God doesn’t want to be? Seems like it’s up to us which way we go, whether we have peace, where everyone is forgiven and loved, or we don’t have peace, where everybody is separated and not counted.

There’s a poem by Ruth Etchells, found it on Facebook. You know, that membership thing.

The Ballad of the Judas Tree

by Ruth Etchells

In Hell there grew a Judas Tree
Where Judas hanged and died
Because he could not bear to see
Hs master crucified

 Our Lord descended into Hell
And found his Judas there
For ever hanging on the tree
Grown from his own despair

So Jesus cut his Judas down
And took him in his arms
‘It was for this I came’ he said
‘And not to do you harm

My Father gave me twelve good men
And all of them I kept
Though one betrayed and one denied
Some fled and others slept

In three days’ time I must return
To make the others glad
But first I had to come to Hell
And share the death you had

My tree will grow in place of yours
Its roots lie here as well
There is no final victory
Without this soul from Hell ‘

So when we all condemn him
As of every traitor worst
Remember that of all his men
Our Lord forgave him first.

From the Church of Scotland website for Easter Day

The audio and transcript are from the Saturday version. Here is a YouTube of the Sunday Service

One of the Twelve: Counting People and Sins

Unity

When Rights Are Left To Others

Unity
a sermon by Rev. J. Christy Ramsey

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Audio from Zoom worship for Lee Vining & Bishop Valley Presbyterian Church February 7, 2021

I Corinthians 9:16-23

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When Larry King asked the comedian George Carlin about the humor of Andrew Dice Clay, the Diceman, that made fun of women, ethnic minorities, queer folk, anyone that was not white, male, abled-bodied, heterosexual. He talked how he was different than the vulgar humor Andrew Dice Clay provided. Carlin believed that comedy was about “punching up”, not punching down. He prefers to make fun of the white, abled-bodied, rich, privileged, powerful men in the world. Punch up the social economic scale.

The punching down starts at 8:57 (should begin there) and ends about 90 seconds later. (The interview continues.)

That was 30 years ago.

We seen a lot of change in the last year. As Joey Lee, the EP of San Jose Presbytery observed in April 2020, churches have made more changes in the last month then he could get them to do in 30 years. I am reminded of a sweet 80-year-old who proudly told me when I commented that she had seen a lot of change in her life, “Yep, seen a lot of change and I was against every one of them!”

One of the changes for me as I’ve been out of my regular circles of friends and good church people is to consider the folks not like me. Me, a white, male, cisgender, married, fairly able, employed person and consider the experience of those not like me.

I used to hear in our Corinthians reading unity and how we are all the same. Maybe even be like Stephen Colbert’s character on “The Colbert Report” who would declare “I don’t see race.” But this year, the reading changed…or more accurately I changed. I thought about what groups Paul, the freeborn, educated, privileged Jewish male Roman citizen chose to list in his unity….

1 Corinthians 9:16-23

If I proclaim the gospel, this gives me no ground for boasting, for an obligation is laid on me, and woe to me if I do not proclaim the gospel! For if I do this of my own will, I have a reward; but if not of my own will, I am entrusted with a commission. What then is my reward? Just this: that in my proclamation I may make the gospel free of charge, so as not to make full use of my rights in the gospel.

For though I am free with respect to all, I have made myself a slave to all, so that I might win more of them. To the Jews I became as a Jew, in order to win Jews. To those under the law I became as one under the law (though I myself am not under the law) so that I might win those under the law. To those outside the law I became as one outside the law (though I am not free from God’s law but am under Christ’s law) so that I might win those outside the law. To the weak I became weak, so that I might win the weak. I have become all things to all people, that I might by all means save some. I do it all for the sake of the gospel, so that I may share in its blessings.

A slave, an immigrant Jew, an outsider, and a person with disabilities walk into a scripture. Sounds like the setup for a Diceman quadruple play for some punch down humor. Paul could have chosen other folks to highlight unity if that was the message: Romans, the rich, the strong, or just “I don’t see race-we are all the same.” If all lives matter is all that matters, did it matter that Paul chose those suffering and outcasts as the other to become as one with?

Some have seen approbation in Paul here, claiming another group’s experience as one’s own. If you reject approbation as a made-up liberal problem stay with me, I have an option. Just think of stolen valor when a person claims military service or honors they have not earned. Try to imagine folks valuing their experience and struggles just as folks rightly value the sacrifice of those who have served their country. Same issue, the only different is how we value what is stolen.

In context this identification with the downtrodden follows Paul’s claiming he has every right to be paid for his preaching. (YAY!) even though he declines to be compensated. (rats—so close) In our time, we might raise at least an eyebrow at the privilege of the wealthy Paul to choose not to be paid for the labor, like unpaid internships at Wall Street firms, that’s free labor is an option most people cannot afford to give or have taken. Is it noble to give up what you do not need or even miss? Maybe it is just not being greedy. Avoiding a vice is not a virtue.

Throughout this section of Corinthians Paul claims his privilege while rejecting it. Paul tells the Corinthians that I could, I should, I have every RIGHT to be paid…but I do not charge. I am freeborn…but I choose to be a slave. I have a get out of jail free card signed by Christ…but I choose to be under the law. I am part of the in crowd…but I choose to stand outside. I am healthy and hardy…but I choose to be with the weak or we might say disabled.

Paul could preach that all he is as fans of the Expanse might say, the boss man not the slave of all, that he is the Jew of Jew, Times Pharisee of the Year, that the law did not apply to him, he could do anything because when you are faithful: they let you. Paul could say we owed him for his great work. Some would cheer this Glory Gospel of Superhero Paul who is Big Time.

These Anti-Paul folk would preach about their own rights for their great accomplishments not their responsibilities to the needs of others. The Anti-Pauls would grumble about the disabled getting the best parking, about affirmative action hires, about being forced to give up their FREEDUMB by wearing a mask because others might get sick or die.

• Yet none would trade reliable limbs for better parking.
• No white person seeks a skin treatment to be black to get that sweet affirmative action.
• No one refuses a ventilator because of freedom from obedience to those medical meddlers. A vent down your throat is a worse than a mask over your nose and mouth. I know.

I don’t get out much so took to twitter to see what folks are saying. I did not even search before I found someone who has met some Anti-Paulites and writes:

I was not prepared for how many people are willing to let others die rather than suffer even a moment’s inconvenience. I have always known these people existed. I have always understood that this sort of callous cruelty was as much a part of human nature as is nobility and sacrifice. I was not prepared for how many of these people there are.

It’s been almost a year. I’ve watched former friends, neighbors, acquaintances evidence this complete inability to comprehend why we should engage in communal self-sacrifice for the sake of one another. I am still reeling. I have had ample time to absorb it. I still can’t.

Joseph Brassey

I hope we never do absorb Anti-Paul thinking.

What would Paul’s attitude look like? Where even cats can put their rights aside for their responsibilities to others. Watch the give and take in this video.

How about a human example? Well, we can find grace anywhere. As Mr. Rogers’ mother advised children in crisis, “Look for the helpers.” There is grace even in Zoom glitches: the blessing and curse of this pandemic liturgical season. Zoom is limited to 100 connections under their standard license. St. Peter’s Episcopal knew that the online funeral of their beloved deacon Betty would draw over 100 from their congregation, family, and all the communities she had blessed in her life. So they bought the 500 person license…and were unaware that they had to enable it online. The funeral came and hit 100 just minutes before the start, and Zoom was closed to others.

Now everyone was invited to the service: technically they had the link and passcode, and emotionally they had the relationship with Betty to be there. EVERY RIGHT to stay…but when folks realized there were people outside who could not get in…without being asked folks unmuted and used Betty’s signature phrase, last heard from her hospice bed, LOVE ALL Y’ALL to say goodbye and log off to make room for someone else. A staggered chorus arose of folks giving up their rights to make room in that sacred privileged space for strangers. So Betty. So Paul. I checked back later to see if there was room and pushed the count from 99 to 100. I got off again. I realized that the good folks were committed to keeping one space open, like Elijah’s empty chair at Seder, so that if someone who needed to be there, they could be. Every time the count got to 100, someone gave up their privileged place and logged off. “LOVE ALL Y’ALL” in word and deed.

For the Sake of the Gospel, for the good news to be good news, for Christianity to be a blessing and not a curse Paul tells us that and lives out a freedom and privilege that is not for him and his but for others, the wage slave, society’s outcasts, a Jews a religious minority-immigrants kicked out of Rome, the disabled. Losers by society standards that Paul calls us and shows us to use our power, our privilege, our birthrights to include. We are blessed so that others can win those blessings as well.

Unity: When Rights Are Left

Bringing Forward What's Behind

Bring what is valuable about the past into a new future

Bringing Forward What’s Behind
a sermon by Rev. J. Christy Ramsey

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Audio from St. Paul’s Lutheran Church parking lot on August 30, 2020
edited from a flawless transcription made by edigitaltranscriptions; all errors are mine. 

Matthew 16:21-28

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Phone, glasses, Hearphones, and once my brother Tim.  That is the answer to the question, “What do you go back for?”  If I leave my phone, my glasses, or even this morning my Hearphones, my hearing aids, I go back for them and get them.  And one time, on the way to a very memorable church service, I left my brother Tim, and we went back for him.  What do you go back for?  What do you go back for to bring into the present and take with you into the future?

I gave out notecards to some of you, I hope you got them, it’s a Sankofa bird on the front.  You can take a look at it there.  It’s very small here.  But I hope you got yours.  If you look closely, it might remind you of those geese that are always over there at the high school and the park,   Oh, my gosh.  But it’s not.  It’s a Sankofa bird.  And if you see, it’s reaching back to get an egg to bring forward into the future.  It’s part of a Native American and Mexican tradition, and African.  And what it means is that it is okay to stop and go back to the past and bring something of value forward.  It also says that that is something you should do, that that is something that is noble and expected, that you will stop what you’re doing and figure out what part of the past you want to bring into the future.

We are at an amazing, unique time.  I don’t know, I hope I can say this in front of you all, but it was official church communication.  I wanted to go to one of the churches in our denomination, not the Lutherans – God bless the Lutherans.  I went and I said, “Hey, can I come to your church?”  And they took it to the committee, and the committee’s first question was, will he sanitize the bathrooms?  Apparently they have laid off their custodian, and anybody that goes in, it’s do-it-yourself cleaning.  What a strange and wonderful time we are living in, to get that question when you want to go to church. 

It used to be that the status quo, the way things always have been, was the one thing that could not be vetoed.  That’s the one thing that could not be changed.  You almost have to have a unanimous – a consensus to do anything different.  You know this is difficult in churches, even in society.

But the coronavirus and the quarantine has vetoed the status quo.  Something that we said was impossible has been done.  I remember driving by closed casinos in Nevada.  Oh, my gosh.  You know, snowballs in hell are nothing compared to a dark casino in Nevada.  Who would believe such a change?  This is the time where we pause, like the bird, in going forward, and look into our past and say, “Well, that’s all messed up. The way of the future is not the old ways. What are we going to bring forward into the future?”

These are very challenging verses we have today, as much as they were [horn honking].  Thank you, amen.  As much as they were back in the time of Jesus.  Imagine, if you will, not the hospitality of Romans being preached.  And you say to yourself, well, that’s hard to do.  That’s difficult to do.  All these people with the politics and the division and the different ideas and the fights over the mask and the statues and the marches and the counter protests and the shootings.  How can we be hospitable?  And gentle?  And welcoming?  God just doesn’t know what we face.

But remember when these were written.  The folks reading this were under armed occupation as a conquered people by a foreign power.  I don’t know what you think the level of our situation is now, but it’s not that bad.  And yet the Scripture still was written, these directives still were given to those people.  If they could do it, we can do it.

Have you thought about what this would play out with, like today?  I mean, if Peter and Jesus were here today and had this discussion, how would it work out?  Have you guys heard of Facebook?  I am convinced Facebook has both brought together and blown apart more relationships than five generations of gossips.  It is an amazing engine to both bring people together! I mean, I’ve got high school friends that comment on my stuff.  I haven’t seen them in, well, a long time.

It also blows people apart.  You know that meme they shared about the politician that you liked?  Remember that mean thing they said about people you care about?  Amen.  Have you unfriended a friend on Facebook over that?  I can imagine it would go something like this with Peter and Jesus on Facebook.  You know, it’d be Facebook.  It’d be Jesus’s page.  You know, I imagine it’d be very pastoral, lot of pastel colors maybe, maybe a sunrise.  Couple hills maybe in the background.  He’d be there smiling.  And his post might be, “Taking the Jerusalem challenge.  I know, I know it’s difficult.  But I’m going to J-Town.  It’s tough, but it’s something I need to do.  I’m going to go there and protest.  And come with me, I’m going to make them hear what I have to say.”

Have you seen that post?  Can you imagine Peter – and God bless Peter, he didn’t post directly on the wall.  That’s not good.  Don’t do that, folks.  He did a message to Jesus, you know, with the little Messenger app that pops up on your phone.  You say, what is that thing?  He says, “Hey, Jesus, I forbid you to go to J-Town.  That’s not a good idea.  Have you heard what’s going on there?  Have you heard about the protest?  Have you heard about the violence?  People getting killed there, Jesus.  Don’t go, Jesus.  You shouldn’t be going there.”  And Jesus, I imagine Jesus does this.  Maybe he doesn’t, but I’m thinking.  Jesus sends him one of them little faces, one with the devil horns on it; you know?  And that’s it.  Just devil get behind me.

Have you had awkward, perhaps relationship-breaking Facebook conversations about what to bring forward?  We can’t leave this behind.  We’ve got to leave this brutality.  We’ve got to leave this racism.  We’ve got to leave the Confederate statues.  We’ve got to leave this oppression.  We’ve got to leave this two system where there’s one justice for those that are white; and those that are not, they get another system.  We’ve got to leave that all behind.  And then you’ve got other people saying, no, no, no, we’ve got to bring that forward.  That’s our heritage.  That’s part of what makes our country great.  You’re wrong.  Things are great.  Things are wonderful.  We need everything.  We’ve got bring that forward.  And there’s a great tug of war, just like that bird, about what to bring forward and what to leave behind.

We make these choices all the time.  All the time.  And it’s not about erasing history.  It’s what we choose to bring forward.  Imagine, if you will, after – I don’t know, I don’t want to get in trouble here.  But a year, a year out of the church?  I don’t know.  Don’t quote me on this.  It’s going to be a while.  But at the church, you went in there, and you found out that some people were honoring your heritage by putting up a statue of Judas, and another great big statue of Satan in the church because, you know, that’s history.  That’s heritage.  That’s in the Scriptures.  We can’t forget that.  I think you’d say we don’t need to bring that forward, brother.  Sister, I don’t think we need that in the church.  We remember Satan.  We see him a lot out in the world every day.  We don’t need a big old statue of him in our faith.

Well, Christy, you gave us the problem, didn’t give us any solution.  Hate when that happens.  What are we going to do?  How can we do this?

Short Wave is a wonderful daily podcast about science, very entertaining, about 10 minutes long.  I just binge through them, read, listen to them while I’m driving somewhere.  I don’t go anywhere anymore, but so 10 minutes takes me a couple trips.  But they said to get yourself out of this depression and get yourself out of this funk, and to get yourself out of the terrible place that you might be in in this time, two things are important:  control, and recognizing that the present times or situation is temporary.  Control and temporary.  So you focus on what you can do.

What is in my control?  What can I do?  I can’t stop the pandemic, but I can help other people.  I can make masks.  I can give money to the folks that don’t have it.  I can go out and support the workers that are out of work by going through all the rigmarole to do carryout and try to give them some money.  If I have a place, I can maybe help out somebody that doesn’t have a place.  Maybe I don’t collect the rent this month if I’m a landlord.  Maybe I support a little help for those that are helpless.  What is in my control?  What can I do?

In Jesus’s case, he says, you know, there’s a lot of evil out there.  There’s a lot of trouble out there.  There’s a lot of oppression out there.  There’s a lot of sin out there.  I can do something about that.  I can go and proclaim God’s love, God’s compassion, God’s inclusion.  And I can tell it and tell it until I’m dead.  That’s what I can do.  I can’t stop all evil.  I can’t control other people.  But I can live a worthy life full of service and healing and love, as long as I’m here.  That’s in my control.  That’s where God wants me to go.  So the one is control.  What is God calling me to do, not what God is calling those other folks to do.  Not what I think they ought to do.  It’s with God, what is God calling me to do?  I can do that.  What can I do?  Get some control in your life by that.

And remember this is temporary.  As Christians we know that we have a heavenly home that is eternal in the heavens, and we’re just here temporarily.  So everything that happens is temporary, and most temporary is this time of pandemic.  There will be a time when this pandemic is over.  I don’t know when.  It’s a race between when the pandemic is over and Jesus comes.  I don’t know which is going to come first.  What I’m thinking is that it’ll be a sure sign, if the Overby House opens, that’d be the end times.  That I’m sure of.  Jesus has a reservation there first night.

It’s temporary, friends.  And you know, Jesus did this with Peter, too.  I don’t know if you’ve been doing a friendship study, looking at the timeline between Jesus and Peter on Facebook.  But my gosh, those two are always getting into it.  You know, they need some couples counseling, those two.  You see them going back and forth.  You know, because Peter is showboating.  Just last week, jumping off the boat, or a couple weeks ago, jumping off the boat, walking on that water like showboating around.  Come on, Peter, give it a rest.  This is Jesus’s moment.  You know, why are you horning in on that?  You don’t even do it well.  And Jesus sighs and picks him up afterwards.

And then he had a good time, a good spot.  He says, “Jesus, you are the Messiah.”  He confessed him as Lord.  Good times.  And now we’ve got this one, where he stops him from doing what he needs to do, what he wants to do, what he’s called to do, and gets in his way and tries to control Jesus.  Have you done that?  Have you tried to control Jesus and say, “That’s not the way, Jesus.  Oh, no, no, no, no.  We’re not going there.  We’re not going out in the parking lot.”  Heck, no.  I love the Lord, but not that much.  I need my pew and my cushion and my roof.  Can somebody get a roof.

Have you had days like that?  Maybe over more significant issues?  But Jesus sticks with him and even sticks with him when he betrays him and denies him.  Spoiler alert, this is coming up.  Peter denies Jesus, betrays him.  “I do not know the man.”  Right when he needed a friend, someone to stand with him.  Through all that drama, through all that back and forth, Jesus stays with Peter.  Because he knows that bad days are temporary.  And somehow he saw good in Peter.  And the last time we see them together they reconcile, where Jesus asks him if he loves him three times, bringing back the three times Peter denied him.  And Peter says, “You know I do.  I love you, Lord.”  And Jesus said, “Feed my sheep.”

So you had a bad time.  So maybe you denied Jesus.  I don’t know.  Maybe.  Maybe you did some things you weren’t supposed to do.  Maybe you have some regrets.  I’m telling you now, the answer, the way out is to recognize that was temporary, and that you have control to do good and to be better.  You can be like Jesus and Peter.  And even though you had ups and downs and troubles and upsetness, if you love the Lord, there’s a way out.  If you love the Lord enough to take care of other people.  If you love the Lord to take care of those he cares about.  If you love the Lord enough to be as hospitable as we hear Paul telling the folks under Roman rule to be hospitable, and kind, and to forego vengeance, but leave room for God.

I had a friend.  His name’s Randy.  Randy was in Kiwanis with me in Akron, Ohio.  And that guy had a heart that would not end.  I mean, he was the one, if you had a Kiwanis service project, he would come two days early and prep it and bring supplies that he bought out of his own pocket, wouldn’t take money.  The day he was there he would come early and stay late.  And he would bring his entire family and friends to help.  And then he would clean up afterwards and come back the next day and finish up what wasn’t done.  

But then Facebook.  I swear every Russian meme that ever came across that was heartless and mean and untrue, Randy had to repeat and had to post.  The first couple dozen times I said, “Randy, what are you doing, dude?”  I would say, “Hey, check this out, this article.  It’s just not true.  It’s not at all.  It’s just trying to make you angry.  If you’re angry when you see a meme, stop and think that the purpose of this meme and this post is not for information.  The purpose of this post is to make me angry.  And don’t let it do that.”  We had some back and forth, and he says, “I just can’t help it.  I just can’t help it.”  So I unfriended him.  I just – my blood pressure couldn’t take it.  And I didn’t want to keep going after him and arguing with him.

But what I’m going to do today, these are little cards, these little note cards.  And I’ve got some homework for you.  I mean, you’ve got time; right?  Everything’s crazy.  Everything’s closed.  I’m going to write Randy.  I’m going to write Randy and see if we can get some relationship back.  Because that was temporary, you know.  Those posts were maybe even unthinking.  And I know he’s a good and kind man, although his choice in candidates is just godawful.  But he’s a good guy.  He’s a loving father, faithful husband, hard worker in his own business, and generous to a fault.

I’m going to write him this card, and I’m going to try to get back with him because I think this is what the Scripture says to us.  Leave room for God to take vengeance.  Leave room.  Welcome everyone, and let God correct them and get them right.  Don’t tell Jesus not to go to somewhere he’s not welcome.  Don’t tell Jesus you shouldn’t be concerned about those people.  You should stay away from them.

Do you have a Randy in your life?  Maybe family?  Maybe a friend that, in this time of division and polarization and every issue under the sun – who would have thought we’re arguing about the Post Office?  Can you give me a break?  Can we just get a buy on the Post Office this year.  Anyone you having problems with?  Maybe you have a problem with me.  Maybe have a problem with Chad.  I don’t know.  Maybe you’re here because you have a problem with your church or pastor.

I’m telling you, I’m a Stated Clerk of the Presbytery, and I sort of have my eyes on the churches throughout Nevada.  And pastors are quitting.  Pastors are going in the hospital with stress diseases.  It is a horrible, awful time to be a pastor.  You think you’re upset about the way the church is going?  Imagine if you were the pastor.  Maybe if you’ve got no one in your life that you want to reconcile with, no one in your life that you think you need a better relationship with, write it to Chad.  I write to Pastor, and I get a note back, “Oh, thank you, you don’t know how much I needed that.”  You know, what a difference it made.

Our Scriptures today say that we can make room for others that disagree with us.  Our Scriptures today say even when they’re going the wrong way and we’re absolutely convinced that they’re going the wrong way, they can still be related to us.  And what a message, what a time for us to hear that.

Friends, what are we going to bring forward in the future?  This is something that we need to reflect on.  We need to consider.  We need to talk together.  We need to make room for one another.  What are we going to turn back and bring forward?  How is our church life and our church worship going to be different going forward?  Is it going to be more technology?  Are we going to have more opportunities for people to gather, rather than at a certain time and place in a certain building in a certain seat in a certain location?  Is this going to be a great renaissance for the church?  A great awakening and expansion?  A transformation of what it means to be God’s people?  I hope so.  I hope so.

It’s up to us what we bring forward.  We have a great opportunity now to take stock of, well, what is essential?  What is necessary?  What is loving?  What makes room for people?  What does hospitality look like in this day and age?  My first boss in a spiritual position as a chaplain left to move on, and she said this:  “I do not go alone, and I leave no one behind.”  I do not go alone.  I leave no one behind.  As we go through this time, into a new time, imagine what you want to bring forward, who you want to bring forward.  And remember you do not go alone.  And remember to leave no one behind.

Amen.

Bringing Forward What's Behind

Stop the Shouting

How to Stop the Shouting

Stop the Shouting
a sermon by Rev. J. Christy Ramsey

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Audio from St. Paul’s Lutheran Church parking lot on August 16, 2020
edited from a flawless transcription made by edigitaltranscriptions; all errors are mine. 

Matthew 15:21-28

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Looking for the way to make the shouting people go away…

Would someone please stop the shouting.  That’s what the disciples want.  They want the shouting to stop.

   

I want to tell you how to stop the shouting.  And I want to show you ways that do not work, as well, for they are all here in our Scripture.  2020 among many things is a year of shouting, and a year of people wanting other people to go away and quit shouting.

 

We have lots of shouting.  We have lots of people shouting for crumbs of compassion to come off the tables of their master.  And we have lots of people telling them to go away.  We don’t want to hear your shouting.  And they do it by curfew.  They do it by tear gas.  They do it by appealing to any authority they can:  Please, for the love of God, stop this shouting.  And the shouting doesn’t stop.  No matter how many appeals we say, no matter what we say, no matter what we do, the shouting goes on, it seems.

 

A woman of a different race says her demon daughter matters.  And Jesus says, “Oh, no.  You’re not going to trick me there.  All children matter.  Not just yours.  All children.  That’s what I’m here for.”  And then the reading ends, and everybody goes home happy.  

 

That doesn’t happen.  It doesn’t happen in our Scripture, and it certainly doesn’t happen in our country.  Shouting “Go home,” saying “All children matter,” does not stop the shouting.  It didn’t then, and it doesn’t now, even if you say it is the love of Christ that makes me tell you all children matter.  Go home.  Stop shouting.

 

How can we stop the shouting?  That is what we ask Jesus to do for us.  Strangely, we can look at the Internet.  I know that’s strange.  The Internet is more often a pooling of our ignorance.  But there is a site called Quora.  I don’t know what you spend your time on.  I’m not going to take a survey.  You can tell me in private later, maybe with confession with Pastor Chad, if you need to.  But I go to Quora to find out what people are asking and find out how people are responding.  

 

Here is how the Quora website/email subscription works: somebody asks a question.  Other people give answers.  And then here’s the key part.   The answers get voted up or down.  So the answer that makes most sense to most people bubbles up to the top.

 

And I was looking at this Scripture and looking at Quora, and there was a letter asking: “Who do I see, how do I get compensation for what happened?”  And he told a story.  He’s there at home, his home, you know, paid for, mortgage, you know, taxes paid, lawn cut, you know, everything you want in a good neighborhood and a good neighbor.  And over the hill comes this riotous noise, this thumping and banging and booming.  And up comes a helicopter, and it drops a bucket, boom, into his pool, scoops up a whole bunch of water, without a by your leave or if you please, and flies away with it.  And he says:  “Who do I see about getting paid for that water?”

 

Well, the answer, if you’re wondering, and you probably know from being in Nevada where wildfires are everywhere, those helicopters can get water anywhere they can, anytime they want, whenever they need it becausethe letter writer didn’t mention thissomething was on fire.  Maybe the entire landscape.  Maybe the entire mountain was on fire, and that helicopter was trying to save homes and lives.  Other people’s homes, not his own.  

 

BUT All water matters.  Why are you taking my water?  All waters matter.  He didn’t mention that other homes were threatened by fire and that water could make a difference between life and death, between having a home and being homeless.  No.  All water matters.

 

I was on the firefighting force in Ottawa, Ohio.  We didn’t have wildfires, thank goodness.  We just had structures, and pretty contained.  But I tell you, I am certainly thankful and glad that never, when we were going to a fire, did we find counter-protesters telling us to shut off our sirens, they were bothering them; quit the shouting; and, by the way, all waters matter.  Why don’t you top off my pool?  

 

We were going to a fire.  We’re trying to save property and lives.  People kind of understood that.

I remember growing up in Akron, Ohio, and looking down the main street of Akron, Ohio, which is called Market Street.  And I remember when a fire truck siren went, as far as you could see, and you could see a mile in each direction, every car and vehicle got off the road, let that fire truck through.  

 

In Ohio, at least when I was a firefighter back then, fire trucks had absolutely no special privileges.  They were not allowed to violate any traffic.  ALL TRAFFIC MATTERED. Fire engines did not have the right of way.  All they could do was to ask.  Said excuse me, there’s a fire.  Could you get out of the way for a minute?  And back then, people knew that even though they had the right to that road, even though all cars mattered: they saw that somebody needed that road more than them.  Someone needed help, and they got out of the way.

 

How do we stop the shouting?  Now, all allegories fail.  The children and the dogs and the puppies and all that, that doesn’t exactly match up one-to-one.  And there’s a whole lot written about that.  And neither does my firefighting thing.  That doesn’t match up one-to-one with reality.  If it was, it would be reality.  But I’m telling you to go a little bit further with this.

 

The way you stop the shouting, if you will, the way you stop the fire engine sirens, is not by telling them that all homes matter.  Turn that off.  It is not by saying you’re bothering me, shut off that siren, I have rights.  The way to stop the fire sirens, the way to stop the shouting is to put out the fire. 

  

I’m telling you, as long as that fire was going, there were sirens.  If we couldn’t get it the fire out, we called in more and more people, more and more sirens, until the fire was out.  We didn’t shout and say, oh, all homes matter.  We didn’t say turn off the sirens, we can’t keep bothering people.  We put out the fire.

 

What about now?  What’s the allegory here?  What’s it doing here?  Because the disciples tried to say shut up.  They tried the curfew.  They tried the tear gas.  They tried the appeal to authority.  They tried to get the people in to haul them out and take them away, send them away, put them back, get them out of here, clear the plaza.  

 

It didn’t work.  Sound familiar?  And then Jesus himself, and for the love of Jesus, it says that he said he is here for all the children of God, not just a demon daughter.  I mean, why do we care? We had nothing to do with her demon daughter.  We didn’t possess them.  We didn’t send the demon on them.  We didn’t sic the demon on her.  We didn’t tell her to live in the demon place.  We didn’t do any of that.  We’re here for all the good children of God. You know, people who look like us and demon free.

 

Even when it’s said by Jesus himself, it is not enough.  I don’t know why then we think it makes a difference if we correct people with a lie saying all matters in theory when it is not true in reality. It didn’t work for JESUS, why do we think it will make a difference for us? 

 

What makes a difference?  What stops a fire of fear?  It is faith.  It is faith.  

 

The Faith I’m talking about, the faith that Jesus sees is not found listed in “The Book of Confessions,”  Al. We are not talking about “The Book of Covenant,” for all the Lutherans here.  Not even “The Sinner’s Prayer.”  I’m not talking about the “Five Fundamentals of Faith.”  Because this woman knew nothing of those.  Yet still Jesus said, “You have faith.”  And what was that faith?  The faith was there is a relationship with all people.  With children and dogs that you call them, and those inside and outside, all are at the table.  There’s relationship.

 

And Jesus saw that.  Oh, woman.  When you can see past my disciples sending you away, when you can see past me even telling you that I’m not here for you, when you can see past the divides of gender and divides of race and the divides of culture and the divides of country, and you can see past all that and say we are all related at the table of the master, that is faith that goes to the heart of the Triune God that is based, is essence of relationship of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, twirling and dancing, and relationship in Eternity.  You have faith that that relationship will go through everyone on the world, including you.  And that is what’ll bring healing.  That is what will put out the fire.  And when the fire is out, the sirens stop, and not until then.

 

Louis C.K. has made some very poor choices in his life.  I’m not holding him up as a moral example or exemplar for you and your relationships with others in every aspect.  But there is something I really like that he said to his children.  I don’t know if you have been a parent – I think most of you have been children.  You know how children like to make sure they get their fair share, whether it’s desserts or ice cream or cereal or, oh my gosh, the fights over the backseat, who had the middle line and the hump and back and forth.  I don’t know, flick your lights you are listening to yourself.  Is there anybody here that has children that looked at other to check out who had more?  Is anyone asleep?  Do we need an amen?  We’ve got a couple of hands up.

 

Louis C.K. had it up to here when they started comparing the amount of cereal in their bowls.  He said, and this is what he said to them, and the rule in his house: 

 

The only time, the only time you look in your neighbor’s bowl
is to make sure they have enough.  

 

The only time you look in your neighbor’s bowl is to make sure that they have enough.  You don’t look in your neighbor’s bowl to see if you have as much as they do.

 

Put out the fire and stop the shouting.  There’s no other way to live out the faith that we’re all in this together.  Amen.

Stop the Shouting

Well, It’s Blursday, the Upteenth of Meh…Again

How to be faithful when days blur into weeks and months.

Well, It’s Blursday, the Upteenth of Meh…Again
a sermon by Rev. J. Christy Ramsey

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Audio from an empty sanctuary and full zoom on a laptop at St. John’s Presbyterian in Reno, Nevada lot on August 23, 2020. Originally given at Lee Vining/Bishop Zoom on July 19

Genesis 28:10-19a

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 Looking for the way to be faithful in the world without gathering with the saints

Two sisters were terrors at home, school, neighborhood, everywhere but church. There they were angels because that was God’s house. Well, with the school and church building closed and the parents were stuck with them day after day without any away time or church angel hours. 

So they do what parents do when they are at their wits end, they called the pastor and asked her to do put the fear of God in them. So the pastor said, “Let me talk to the oldest.” 

The parent handed the phone to the oldest and the pastor quizzed her, “WHERE IS GOD?” and the oldest said, “At God’s house!” The pastor continued, “Ok, No body is at God’s house, where is God?” The child didn’t know the answer but knew she was in big trouble. She froze. 

 

Her sister asked, “What’s wrong?”

 

The oldest pushed mute and answered her: “The Pastor Can’t Find God! She Thinks We Stole Him!

 

Where is God is the question of 2020. Since March we have been spread abroad from west to east to north and south. To homes, laptops, phones, tablets, zoom, YouTube, Facebook. And we wonder, “Where is God when God’s House is Closed?” 

 

James Goff had a cartoon in April where the devil is bragging that he closed every church. God is next to him saying, I opened a church in every home.

 

The wave of blogs virtual worship guides and the stream of emails with requests for rulings about what was real worship or real communion flooded the web, twitter, emails and Facebook posts. 

 

Christians of a certain age will hear the lament in the question from “On The Willows” from Godspell. Psalm 137:4 How can we sing the Lord’s Song in a foreign land? 

Rev. Joey Lee, the Executive Presbyter of San (Hos say) says if we complain about lockdown…try being a refugee.

 

We catch up with the heel grabber Jacob who has just started being a refugee on his way toward Haran. He is fleeing his sheltering home and family support because it is not safe to stay there. From favorite son to refugee. In the desert he found a place to stay overnight. There he found God standing beside him tell him that God is with him and will keep him wherever he goes. Jacob’s named the place, Bethel, the house of God. He fled his house and found himself in the house of God. 

 

For Christians, the answer to the pastor’s question is not a place, but a person. God acts to make sure we know he is not housebound to a place by Jesus or rather Immanuel, God with Us. Where is God when God’s house is closed? As Jacob found out, God is standing beside us. God is Immanuel, God is with us. 

 

God is not housebound. Jacob may leave home, but God’s house goes with him. Psalm 139 has a similar promise most often heard at funerals and memorials. The leaving is magnified in verse: 

Where can I go from your spirit?  Or where can I flee from your presence?
If I ascend to heaven, you are there; if I make my bed in Sheol, you are there.
If I take the wings of the morning and settle at the farthest limits of the sea, even there your hand shall lead me, and your right hand shall hold me fast.
If I say, ‘Surely the darkness shall cover me, and the light around me become night’, even the darkness is not dark to you; the night is as bright as the day, for darkness is as light to you. 

 

God found Jacob in the desert, but this isn’t a story about Jacob’s ladder to heaven it is about God setting his ladder to heaven wherever we are. God is the subject.

Jacob did everything he could to grab his piece of heaven, to secure his place and future. His artful deal swindled his brother out his birthright for a bowl of stew. He tricked his blind father to steal the blessing that was due his brother Esau. He was a heel grabber from birth. 

Yet there is a reckoning. Today we find him in the desert. Without family, fortune or future; that birthright and blessing cut off by the fear of that is brother would be angry and vengeful. His scheming for all left him with nothing. 

Yet it isn’t just us who finds him, but God. Who gives him the blessing not of his father for his family, but to be a blessing to all the families of earth. God who replaces his birthright with the promise of the birth of offspring like the dust of the earth. God, who builds Bethel, the house of God around the homeless refugee not artful deals of grasping Jacob.

The church is stripped of all of the things we planned, prepared and schemed for over the decades: 

 

• We have been exiled from our beautiful buildings even our favorite pew…
• Eye contact is replaced with far away stares.
• Handshakes and hugs are replaced with  video smiles and distant waves.
• In person, even smiles are masked away And in person means double arms length, too far to hug.
• Like a modern day Babel, our chorus is fractured solos, we sing together alone; our unison responses jumbled syllables scrambled by the tech tubes that connect our eyes but not our voices.
• We can no longer receive communion from a neighbors hand but only take it from our own.
• We are in the desert, alone, in exile from all we have gathered and grabbed, stripped of our birthright and blessing.

Sir Winston Churchill is credited with first saying, “Never let a good crisis go to waste.” He said it in the mid-1940s as we were approaching the end of World War ll.

 

Jacob doesn’t waste his crisis. He recognized that he is a guest of God’s house wherever he is. Not by his own cunning, but by God’s care. That ladder is not a way to heaven as it is an affirmation of that God’s work is going on, even here. Angels are moving cares up to heaven and messages are coming down us. The supply chain is secure delivering even in the desert even though zoom.

 

And he vows to return to this place where God’s house is. Rev. Joey Lee, also says that when the quarantine hit changes that we been working on for years where made in a weekend. Our tech friendly expansive ministry is reuniting the ex-pats, the homebound, the young, the physically and socially distant, the ones who can’t hear but now can turn up the volume, the ones who can’t walk but now have church delivered, the one who work or play on Sunday morning, let’s not forget this place where God came beside those alone and away from the home. A ladder delivering grace and inviting a connection to God from wherever you are.

 

Virginia City Presbyterian that still has gas light fixtures because they are not convinced electricity might be a fad, hung a video screen in their sanctuary after a unanimous approval from the session so folks weren’t required to touch and pass hymnals and paper. What a faithful response to exile. When I heard that, I asked my echo what the ski conditions in hell were. 

 

I don’t know what the future may hold, but I know who holds the future. Ralph Abernathy

 

The quarantine is a forced demonstration that God’s house is not built of our traditions, our schemes and empire building but where people stop to rest and find God beside them. Setting up a ladder to heaven where faith climbs and blessing descends.

 

We can keep the faithful attitude of how God is present where we are instead of trying to jam God into where we were. We can all be like my mother-in-law Kathryn who lives in the desert of Sedona on House Rock Road. We can set up our house rock and say remember, God is here. God is with us where ever we stop and look for God. 

 

“He’s Always There”

 

The Lord leads us on

with tender care,

lifting our

burdens to bear

He blesses us

as we pass on,

to what awaits

eternal dawn

Tho we so often

may not see,

He’s always there

and will always be…

 

J. Paul Horgan   “The Poem Painter”

7/17/20   c.

Well, It’s Blursday, the Upteenth of Meh…Again