Do You See This Woman?

Sermon manuscript for Saint George, Utah, Adventist Church

Sabbath, May 27, 2017

Texts: Luke 7. The woman who anointed Jesus.

Luke 19. And when Jesus came to the place, He looked up and saw him,[fn] and said to him, “Zacchaeus, make haste and come down, for today I must stay at your house.” 

Luke 21:1-2.  And he looked up, and saw the rich men casting their gifts into the treasury. And he saw also a certain poor widow casting in thither two mites.1 Kings 21:29.

1 Kings 21:29 Do you see how Ahab has humbled himself before me? Because he has done this, I will not do what I promised during his lifetime. 

Three stories.

The Woman

One of the Pharisees invited him to a dinner. Jesus went and they sat down to eat. During the meal some woman from the city, someone with a colorful reputation, shall we say, came in. She brought an alabaster box of ointment. She came up behind Jesus. She began sobbing. Her tears fell on Jesus' feet and she let down her hair and wiped his feet with her hair and massaged the ointment into his feet.

Naturally, the host saw this he was scandalized. Surely, he thought, if Jesus were a prophet, he would realize what kind of woman this is that's handling him.

Jesus interrupted the host's consternation. “Simon, I have a story for you.”

“Let's here it.”

“A creditor was owed money by two people. One owed him five thousand dollars, the other owed him fifty. When he realized these two debtors were hopelessly over their heads in debt, he frankly forgave them both. So which of these two men would love the creditor most?”

“Well, unless it's a trick question, the answer is obvious. The one who was forgiven most.”

“Exactly,” Jesus said.

“Now, do you see this woman? Do you really see her? Obviously, you know her name. This is a small town. You know her father's name. You know her reputation. You know her history. But look at her again and let me tell you what you did not see.

“When I arrived here, under your roof, you provided no water for my feet, but she has washed my feet with tears and wiped them with her head. You gave me no kiss, not even the most perfunctory. Since I sat down she has not stopped kissing my feet. You did not anoint my head with oil. She has anointed my feet with the sweetest smelling ointment that has ever touched my skin.

Can you see now? Obviously, she has received forgiveness. You know her sins. I invite you to see the wealth of pardon she has received.

“Honey,” you may go. “Your sins are, indeed, forgiven. You are free.”

The Government Agent

Jesus was on his way from Galilee to Jerusalem, traveling in the mob of pilgrims that made this trek every year for Passover. He arrived at Jericho and pushed through the gates headed for the town center. His progress was very slow because of the crowd. At some point along the route, Jesus stopped and looked up into the branches of a tree hanging over the street. There in the tree was a diminutive man named Zacchaeus. He was the chief tax collector for the city and was quite rich.

He had been wanting to see Jesus. He had heard the reports. He was drawn to what he had heard. But getting to Jesus was problematic. So, here he was up in a tree hanging over the street waiting for the teacher to pass. And there was Jesus staring up at him.

What did Jesus see? What do we think Zacchaeus thought Jesus saw? What did the people in the crowd imagine Jesus was seeing?

Tax collector. Collaborator with the Romans. This has application in our world. People who believe government is the face of oppression. If your neighbor works for the IRS or the BLM or the city building inspectors office. What do we see? The incarnation of the enemy?

“Zacchaeus, hurry down. I'm planning to spend the day at your house.

Zacchaeus hurried down, almost giddy with excitement. My house! He's coming to my house!

People in the crowd were not pleased. What is Jesus thinking? Didn't Jesus see who was up in that tree? Didn't Jesus see he was a sinner?

At dinner Zacchaeus made a little speech. “Lord, I am going to give half my wealth to the poor. If I have fraudently assessed any one, I will pay back. In fact, I'll pay back four times anything I have wrongly taken.

Jesus smiled and said, Today, salvation has come to this house. You, Zachaeus, are truly and fully a son of Abraham. For the Son of man is come to seek and to save that which was lost.

The King

Ahab was the worst king ever. He was married to Jezebel, the worst queen ever. Near the end of his life he commited one of his most egregious acts of barbarity. He wanted a piece of property next to the royal residence. The owner would not sell because it had been in his family for generations. So Ahab allowed his wife, Jezebel, to arrange to have the neighbor falsely accused of blasphemy and executed.

In response to this dastardly act, God directed the prophet, Elijah, to deliber a message of doom. God was finished with Ahab. His dynasty was going to come to an abrupt end.

After receiving the message from the prophet, the king made a great show of contrition. He put on sackcloth and was visibly upset and subdued for days.

So God appeared to the prophet again. “Have you seen Ahab?” God asked. “Go tell Ahab I have seen his contrition and I will delay the punishment I first announced.”

Have you seen Ahab?

Ahab was the worst king ever. This was true. It remained true. But in this moment God was paying attention to Ahab's contrition. For this brief time Ahab was pointed the right direction and God saw it. And wrote it down.

Application

The woman at Simon's house had a messy reputation. She had earned the reputation. Simon was not inventing a false history when he scorned her. But Jesus saw something more. We are all more than our worst moments. We are even more than our bad habits. Somewhere even in a messy life there are aspirations to be better, to do better. Jesus saw those.

Zachaeus worked for the Romans. The implication is that he participated in the culture of his work place. He had used his official position to defraud people. That was true. And there was something more. Jesus saw that. Jesus read his hunger for holiness. When we look at people can we see those secrets hopes for goodness? Can we find ways to encourage them?

Ahab was a bad man. His dynasty needed to end. It did end, by divine order. Still, God noticed the sparks of goodness that lived even in someone as broken and messed up as Ahab. Sometimes we have to deal with bad people. Evil must be restrained. But when we take action to restrain evil can we keep alive our capacity to notice and honor even the slightest impulse toward goodness? When we do this we are partnering with God. The more frequently we practice this partnership with God, the deeper and richer will be our realization of our own place in God's eyes.

God is watching you. He sees your best hopes, your highest aspirations. And God is pleased. With you.

God's Crew

Sermon manuscript for Green Lake Church for Sabbath, May 13, 2017

Daniel 1:1-4

Mark 9:17-27

Thursday morning I was sitting on the dock across the street. It was raining so I was holding an umbrella. A duck paddled past, then I watched a shell leave the boat house at the south end of the lake and head my direction. As it got close I could it was by rowed by five or six women. I glanced at my phone. 5:56 a.m.

Wow. That's dedication.

Every morning they are out there early, working on their stroke, working on their coordination, developing their strength and stamina. Preparing for the final test: a race.

Our Old Testament reading featured four guys preparing for a final exam, Daniel and his friends, Hananiah, Mishael, and Azariah. The text says,

God gave these four young men knowledge and understanding of all kinds of literature. They became remarkably wise. And God gave Daniel the special ability to interpret the meanings of visions and dreams. Daniel 1:17.

How do you think God gave these guys knowledge and wisdom? How did God give them mastery of all kinds of literature?

I'm going to guess they they read books. Lots and lots of books. While other students were getting drunk, Daniel, Hananiah, Mishel, and Azariah were hitting the books. Babylon had a huge library. These guys wanted to read it all.

They studied math. And philosophy and Babylonian religion. They studied multiple languages. I don't know what kinds of science they had in those days, but they knew how to build massive walls and impressive bridges. They had agricultural science and astronomy. These guys studied all that.

For three years they hit the books. They studied. And studied. And studied. My guess is Daniel was something of a coach. He'd quiz his buddies. If they didn't know as much as he did he'd push them to read the book again. Go over that list of formulas once more. Study that vocab list for a few more hours.

Then comes the exam.

If this were a movie we would watch as several of their buddies were quizzed by King Nebuchadnezzar. We'd wince when students stumbled, when they didn't know the answers or worse when they confidently gave an answer which turned out to be wrong. We can imagine the king jumping on one of the students who had slacked on his studies.

“I spent three years of education on you, and this is the best you can do? How did you get into this program any way?”

The king was a hard man. He expected a return on his investment.

Finally, it was Daniel and his friends' turn. At first, the guys answered slowly, carefully. They did not want to get anything wrong. They mulled over every question before answering, making sure they understood what the king was asking, making sure to answer the question fully.

But as the interview proceeds, we can see them becoming more and more confident. They've got this. They have been studying non-stop for three years. They have been quizzing each other. They know the material, all of it. They are ready. The king asks questions and they answer, smoothly, calmly, confidently.

The tone of the questions changes. It begins to sound more like a conversation. Instead of merely asking the questions listed on the guide in front of him, the king asks questions about their answers. The king explores what they know, asking questions that he himself doesn't know the answer to because he wants to know the answer, and he figures these guys will know.

Finally, it's over. Daniel and Friends are ten times smarter than the next highest student. They were dazzling, crazy smart.

And God was happy. This was a perfect first chapter in the story God intended to write. This story is going to reach its grand climax when the King of Babylon becomes a devotee of the God of Israel. And the story is going to happen because of the fantastic scholarship and integrity of Daniel and his friends.

If we were watching a movie of this scene, our bodies would tense when we saw a student hesitate. We want them to succeed. We want them to know the answers. We cannot help ourselves. In the moment of that movie our happiness gets linked with the success of the students.

In the Gospel, there are two parallel stories. One features a mother and her daughter, the other features a father and his son. In both stories the children are horribly ill, and in both stories the kids don't say a word. In both stories it is the parents who live at the center of the drama.

In Mark 9, a father brings his son for healing. “Master, I have a son with terrible problems. He is possessed by an evil spirit that won’t let him talk. Whenever this spirit seizes him, it throws him violently to the ground. He foams at the mouth and grinds his teeth and becomes rigid.

How long has this been going on?” Jesus asks.

“Since he was a child. Sometimes he is thrown in the cooking fire. Sometimes the demon throws him into an irrigation canal or the lake and he has nearly drowned. So please sir, if you can, have compassion on us and help us.”

What do you mean, ‘If I can’?” Jesus asked. “Anything is possible if a person believes.”

“Oh sir, I do believe. Help my unbelief.”

We could paraphrase the dad's words: Don't let my unworthiness get in the way of healing for my son. I will do anything, believe anything, say anything. Just heal my son. He is my whole life. Heal him. Please, please, please.

In Matthew 15 we read the story of Jesus on vacation. Along with his disciples, he had headed north up into the neighborhood of Sidon where no one knew him, looking for a little down time. But somehow word leaked out and a mother showed up at his door. The minute he steps outside she starts following him begging for help.

“Have mercy. Please have mercy. Teacher, help me. Have mercy. For the love of God, have mercy.”

Her clamoring annoys the disciples and they ask Jesus to get rid of her, to send her away. Jesus stops and explains to his disciples that he can't send her away. She's a mother, after all. The only way to get rid of her would be to give her what she needs, to heal her daughter. But Jesus was not supposed to help people like her. She was a Canaanite. Jesus' mission was to the Jewish people. She was not Jewish. So he wasn't supposed to help her which meant he couldn't get rid of her.

As Jesus was explaining all this to his disciples, the woman pushed through the circle of disciples and planted herself in front of Jesus. “Please sir. Please. Help me.”

“Look, lady,” Jesus said, “it is not right to take the children's bread and throw it to the dogs.”

“True,” she answered, “but even dogs are not begrudged the crumbs. Please help me. Please, just speak the word so that my daughter who is home can be made well.”

“Wow!” Jesus says. “Wow!” Your faith is amazing. May it be according to your will.”

Twice in the Gospel, Jesus places his will in second place. Jesus allows his another person to overrule his declared intention. In the story most often cited in church, Jesus yielded to God. When he was in the garden of Gethsemane the night before he was crucified, he asked to be spared the agony of the coming crucifixion. Then said to God, “nevertheless, not my will, but your will be done.”

The other time Jesus bends his declared will to that of another is here when Jesus says to this mother, “Not my declared will (to be true to my mission to the Jewish people) but your will be done.”

Obviously, as believers, we regard this as theater. We know how the story is going to end from the very first sentence. If someone's need is brought to Jesus' attention, we know that Jesus is going to meet that need. But if we jump to that conclusion too quickly we miss the force of the story. Jesus said no, then said yes in response to the bold pleading of a mother. The mother's desire becomes the clearest, purest expression of the will of God because God is like a mother.

When our children are sick, our deepest, sharpest desire is their healing.

When our children are doing okay, our deepest, sharpest desire is for them to do even better.

When our children are doing fantastic, our deepest, sharpest desire is for them to do even more fantastic.

It is our conviction that God's desire for humanity is mirrored in the hunger we have for the triumph and success of our children.

When God watched Daniel and Friends acing that test in the court of Babylon, God was pleased to no end. God was thrilled. That is why the story of their triumphal exam is part of the Bible story.

Kids, when you act kindly, you make God glad.

When you practice helpfulness

When you work to master a skill, God smiles and says, “That's my girl. That's my boy.”

When you follow your curiosity and become an expert on chickens or the planets

When you build a really cool project

When you practice the piano or practice pitching a baseball or shooting a basket ball or kicking a soccer ball

When your words are courteous and respectful

When you tell the truth

When you do your best

You make God glad.

And then count on it, God and your mother will urge you to do even better.

On Thursday morning when I was watching the girls in the boat . . . they were followed by a motorboat. In the launch a woman was standing, I could hear her shouting as they rowed. “Sit deeper. Reach. Watch your teammates.” She would call different rowers by name and tell them to do something or stop doing something. She kept up a constant commentary.

Why?

She wanted the girls in the boat to do better. Yes, they were on her team and that was something. They had showed up at 5:30 in the morning to practice. That was something. They were strong and motivated. That was good. But the coach's job was to help them do better, so they could taste the excitement of winning.

Kids, on behalf of God, we—the mothers and fathers, the grandmothers and grandfathers, the aunts and uncles—but especially the mothers—we urge you on.

Higher

Holier

Smarter

Stronger

More skillful

Wiser

Purer

Kinder

Quicker

Better

Please hear all this exhortation, all this urging, as a vote of confidence and as an expression of how deeply you live in our hearts. We, together with God, love you with all our heart. We cannot help ourselves. At every point in your lives, whether you pass or fail, whether your first or last, we treasure you. And beyond every triumph and every success, we can only dream of greater things.

Allies of God

Sermon manuscript for Sabbath, May 6, 2017, for Green Lake Church of Seventh-day Adventists

Texts: Exodus 18:12-24, Matthew 21:1-5.

The descendants of Jacob moved from Palestine to Egypt to escape the ravages of a severe drought and famine. It was a good move. They settled in a rural area away from the urban centers and prospered. Then a different Pharaoh came to the throne. He saw these foreigners as a threat to the real Egyptians. He imposed restrictions on them, but that wasn't enough. Finally, he stripped them of their citizenship and put them in labor camps.

Even this was not enough. Their birth rate was higher than the “real Egyptians” and Pharaoh fretted that eventually they would be so numerous they would threaten the Egyptians place as top dogs. So Pharaoh announced an eradication campaign. All male children were to be killed by throwing them in the river.

A Hebrew couple, Amram and Jocabed, had a son. Naturally, they did not want to lose him to the river. They hid him as long as they could, but eventually he was too big to hide, too active, too noisy. What to do?

Jocabed came up with a wild scheme. She would obey the law—that is she would put him in the river. But not to die.

She made a basket boat, put baby Moses in the little ark, and hid the boat in the rushes near the place where Pharaoh's daughter bathed.

She posted Moses' older sister, Mariam, to stand guard and went home to pray.

Pharaoh's daughter showed up at the river at her usual time. She spotted the basket floating among the rushes and sent one of her maids to fetch it. When the lid of the basket was opened, Moses began wailing.

“Ah, it must be one of the Hebrew babies,” the princess said. While the princess and her maids were cooing over this little kid, Miriam sidled up. “Would you like me to find you a wet nurse to feed the baby?”

The princess turned, surprised. “Why yes, that would be lovely.”

Miriam raced home and called her mom.

Jocabed ends up getting hired to care for her own baby at home. After he was weaned, the princess took Moses into the palace and raised him as her own son, giving every advantage a prince could possibly have.

Fast forward eighty years. God finds Moses out in the desert herding sheep and sends him back to Egypt. “Go tell Pharaoh, 'Let my people go!'”

Moses obeys and engaging in tense hyper test of wills with Pharaoh. Moses wins. Pharaoh tells him to get out. Take his people and leave! And they do. We call it the Exodus.

At first glance, this is a classic good guys/bad guys tale. Moses and his people are the good guys. Pharaoh and his people are the bad guys. For two thousand years Christian preachers have used this story as a pattern for understanding the place of Christians in the world. We preachers see ourselves as Moses and our people are the Israelites. This makes other people the Egyptians, the bad guys.

But if we look at the story closely, the simple distinction blurs. Are the Egyptians the bad guys? Well, not the princess. She saved Moses' life. She set him up as a member of the royal household. She directed and funded his education, preparing him for his role in leading Israel.

Are the Egyptians the bad guys? Several times when Pharaoh was adamantly refusing Moses' demands for freedom for his people, Pharaoh's advisers urged him to yield to Moses demands and let the people go. Is it fair to see these advisers as “the enemy” when they were actively attempting to persuade Pharaoh to agree to Moses' demands?

When the Israelites finally headed out of town, they took with them vast wealth from the Eyptians. It was this treasure that made possible the construction of the sanctuary—the wilderness temple. Shouldn't the Egyptians get at least a little credit for this?

Here's my point: God used some Egyptians as allies in accomplishing his objectives for Israel. God used an Egyptian princess to set Moses up for success as a national leader. God used the university of Egypt to provide Moses with the best education available at the time. God relied on the wealth of Egypt in the construction of the wilderness sanctuary.

If we take the story at face value, the Egyptians were indispensable to the accomplishment of the mission of God. Yes, the people of Israel are central in the story. But they are not alone. They are not sufficient. The Egyptians were indispensable allies.

One of my favorite stories about Jesus is his ride into Jerusalem. Jesus decides to make a dramatic royal display. He is going to ride into Jerusalem on a donkey. One problem. Jesus doesn't have a donkey. His disciples don't have a donkey. Jesus sends a couple of his disciples to “requisition” a donkey. They do so, and Jesus does the famous “Triumphal Entry.” He rides from Bethany into Jerusalem, riding right up to the entrance of the temple. Jesus could not have done this without the assistance of allies.

In the story of Jesus and the donkey, we don't confuse the roles of leading actor and supporting actor. But neither do we forget the supporting actor.

The New Testament unabashedly affirms the centrality of the Christian church in the story of God's mission in the earth. We are called the light of the world, the salt of the earth.

Early Adventists saw themselves in the prophecies of Revelation. We imagined that we were the true inheritors of the apostolic mission. Unfortunately, this sense of being special developed into full-blown ownership of the work of God. What is God up to in the world? Us. Where did we see the mission of God advancing in the world? Only in our own numerical success. But we can do better.

If we compare ourselves to Israel in the days of Moses, we should expect that some of our brightest leaders will have received their education outside our culture, outside our social circles. If we compare ourselves to Christ himself, we will recognize that we can accomplish our work only by relying on the faithful service of others.

What is our mission? What does God call us to do?

He has shown you, O mortal, what is good.

And what does the LORD require of you?

To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God. Micah 6:8

The Spirit of the LORD is upon me,

for he has anointed me to bring Good News to the poor.

He has sent me to proclaim that captives will be released,

that the blind will see,

that the oppressed will be set free,

to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor. Luke 4:18-19

How do we know if someone is part of “God's people?” The primary evidence is not their religious or political label but their participation in the mission of God. All who are working to advance the cause of justice and mercy are allies of God. They deserve our honor and cooperation.

Note: in the service Karen Baker will talk about her family's experience as part of a Buy Nothing group. These groups are an example of people outside of church doing work that embodies some of our best values. The people so engaged are allies of God whatever their religious labels or lack there of.

Not One in Twenty

The false myth of the good old days of Adventism.
(This is a re-posting of something I wrote previously.)

Sometimes I hear people pine for the good old days when the Adventist church was characterized by a wonderful zeal and a pure commitment to the proclamation of Jesus and his end time message. 

According to Ellen White, such mythic purity never existed. 

In 1893 she wrote, "It is a solemn statement that I make to the church, that not one in twenty whose names are registered upon the church books are prepared to close their earthly history, and would be as verily without God and without hope in the world as the common sinner" (GCDB, February 4, 1893 par. 9). To paraphrase: 95 percent of church members were in a state of damnable spiritual corruption. 

Perhaps one might argue this was late in the development of the church--by 1893 James White had been dead for 12 years. Surely things were better when the church was younger. Maybe. In 1867, EGW wrote, "Names are registered upon the church-books upon earth, but not in the book of life. I saw that there is not one in twenty of the youth who knows what experimental religion is. They serve themselves, and yet profess to be servants of Christ; but unless the spell which is upon them be broken, they will soon realize that the portion of the transgressor is theirs" (1T504, repeated in MYP 384). Again, just to make sure you get the math: in 1867 ninety-five percent of the young people on the church books were lost.

These statements apply to the laity. What about the clergy, the men and women who lived in poverty and devoted their lives to preaching the three angels messages. 

"Every minister should study closely the manner of Christ's teaching. . . . There is not one in twenty who knows the beauty, the real essence, of Christ's ministry. They are to find it out. . . . Then all this tame sermonizing will come to an end; for frequently this is an exhibition of self, rather than the fruit that the teacher bears who has been at the feet of Jesus and learned of Him" (6MR 72; PaM 281.2). 

So back in the good old days, 95 percent of the preachers did not know the real essence of Christ's ministry. Their preaching was an exhibition of self. Ninety-five percent of the young people were damnably self-absorbed. Ninety-five percent of the church members were as "verily without God" as common sinners.

So, without apology, I am boldly in favor of a church that is different from the church of the pioneers. I advocate progress, change and reform. The church of 95 percent failure is not a trustworthy model for our life today.

(Doing the research for this blog entry reminded me of the evils of Messages to Young People. The tone of that book was consistent with the notion that 95 percent of Adventist youth were damned. No wonder my teenage religion was characterized by fear and anxiety.)