Sunday, November 24, 2013

Responsibility


The Rev. Dr. Skip Ferguson
Manassas Presbyterian Church
Manassas, Virginia
November 24, 2013
Responsibility
Jeremiah 23:1-6

“You are utterly faithless,
and utterly irresponsible.”
This is the searing message God spoke to the children of Israel
through the prophet Jeremiah more than 2600 years ago.
Everyone, throughout the land,
all the way up to the very top,
the king himself.
They were all faithless,
all irresponsible.

These are words spoken so long ago,
yet they are timeless,
as timely today
as they were when they first came out of Jeremiah’s mouth.
God upset with his children
for their faithlessness,
irresponsible in how they lived their lives,
living in disobedience,
following their own desires,
their own whims,
their own ways.

Ancient words, but timeless,
timely.
Our human history is one of faithlessness,
of irresponsibility toward God.
We say we’ll be obedient,
but then we go off on our own way,
doing what we want to do.
And then when God confronts us with our waywardness,
our faithlessness,
we try our best to wriggle out of it,
quick to blame someone or something else,
point the finger elsewhere,
turn ourselves into victims.
saying it is someone else’s fault.

We’ve tried to get out of responsibility
ever since the days of Adam and Eve,
when Eve tried to blame the serpent,
and Adam not only tried to blame the woman,
he even tried to blame God:
arguing that if God hadn’t given him
the woman in the first place
the tree would have been untouched,
the fruit still hanging from the branch,
and Adam never would have found himself
in trouble with God.

Reliable,
accountable,
dependable,
trustworthy –
these are some of the words
that go with responsibility.
To be irresponsible is to be
unreliable,
undependable,
untrustworthy.

In our lesson God condemned the leaders
of Israel and Judah,
the leaders of his people,
those who occupied the throne of David;
God condemned them for their irresponsibility,
for turning from the responsibilities
that went with being a king,
for pursuing their own desires,
building up their wealth,
their power,
seeking their own glory, rather than God’s.

This isn’t what God expected of his kings.
To be a king was to be responsible for God’s people,
all God’s people.
To be a king was to be a shepherd,
looking after all God’s people,
with a special concern for the weak, the sick,
the elderly, the young.

Psalm 72 tells us what God expected from the king,
 “Give the king your justice, O God,
and your righteousness to a king’s son.
May he judge your people with righteousness
and your poor with justice.
…May he defend the cause of the poor of the people,
give deliverance to the needy…
In his days may righteousness flourish and peace abound…
for he delivers the needy when they call,
the poor and those who have no helper.
He has pity on the weak and needy.”

Speaking through Jeremiah, God indicted his kings,
“You have not attended to my flock,”
“You haven’t kept your eye on my people.”
(Peterson, The Message)
“You have failed to take care of them,
You’ve pursued your own interests,
gone down your own path,
You have been irresponsible –
you’ve been faithless.”

It is a powerful indictment.
And following it comes an equally powerful punishment:
they would be swept away, banished,
gone with the desert winds,
to make way for a godly king,
one who understood what it meant to be king,
one who would “execute justice
and righteousness in the land,”
one who would look after all God’s children
in the same way a shepherd takes responsibility
for all his flock:
watching over them,
caring for them,
tending them.

This “Righteous Branch” would be our Lord Jesus Christ,
a king who reigns not with sword and army,
not with power and might,
but with “peace as his scepter and love as his crown,”
as John Rutter’s beautiful “Christmas Lullaby” reminds us.

This is a king who is a shepherd, our shepherd,
who tends his flock with love,
looking after all,
including the weak,
the sick,
the old, the young,
the different.

This is a king who calls us to model our lives on his
even as we follow him.
This is a king who calls us to be shepherds to one another,
looking after one another,
all tending all in the flock.

When Cain said to God, “Am I my brother’s keeper?”
(Genesis 4:9)
he was trying to turn from his own responsibility
by reminding God that God was the one
who promised to be the keeper, the keeper of all:
As the psalmist would later write,
“The Lord is your keeper…
he will keep your life.
The Lord will keep your going out and your coming in
from this time on and forevermore.”
(Psalm 121)

But even as Cain tried to run from his responsibility,
he knew the answer:
we are one another’s keepers,
for as our Lord teaches us
we are to love our neighbors as ourselves.

Life often distracts us, though,
and turns us from responding faithfully to our calling.
We see choices that look so much more appealing,
exciting,
or that may simply require less effort,
or are more fun.

Isn’t it enough, we think,
that we try our best to be nice
more often than not,
that we do good more often than not,
that we say a prayer every now and then?
Doesn’t God know how busy we are?
Isn’t that enough?

And the answer is, of course, no.
We are called to new life,
transformed life
obedient life,
responsible life
following our king,
our shepherd.
Jesus wants followers,
not admirers,
(Kierkegaard)
not those along just for a day trip.

Following Jesus our Lord, our shepherd,
puts great responsibility on each of us.
But we have one another to help us along the way.
Together we are the Body of Christ;
together we are shepherds,
caring for one another,
all of us responsible for the flock.

The life of a shepherd can be a difficult one,
there’s no question about that.
But it can also be filled with joy,
a life rich in blessings,
for we follow the one who is our shepherd,
and so we shall not want,
for our cup runs over;
goodness and mercy will follow us
all the days of our lives,
and we will dwell in the house of the Lord
forever and ever.

AMEN

Sunday, November 17, 2013

The Answer


The Rev. Dr. Skip Ferguson
Manassas Presbyterian Church
Manassas, Virginia
November 17, 2013

The Answer
Selected Texts

Who among us, anyone over the age of, say 20,
would be willing to go through adolescence again?
I don’t think there is a more difficult, stress-filled time of life
than those years between the ages of 12 and 18,
that time when boys become young men,
and girls become young women.
Adolescence is a journey of both promise and pain,
excitement and anguish.

Our high schoolers reminded us of that last week,
with moving, inspiring, and poignant words
that spoke of the teen years as a time of growth and wonder,
accompanied with all too many moments of
anguish, loneliness and hopelessness.

The words we heard took us through dark tunnels of despair,
but we found our way, as they did,
to hope and light,
to life and love through faith,
faith in God through Jesus Christ.

“Do not fear, for I am with you,”
God says through the prophet Isaiah.
“I have redeemed you.
I have called you by name,
you are mine.
You are precious,
and honored,
and I love you.”
(Isaiah 43)

These are God’s words to us that can carry us
through the most difficult times.
These are words that can
guide a young person through adolescence;
that can guide a twenty-something on the rocky road
of launching a career;
that can guide a forty-something through the daily struggles
that come with juggling work and family,
caring for parents as well as for children.

They are words that remind us of the promise God makes
to all God’s children,
the underneath each of us are the everlasting,
ever-loving arms of God.

They are words that can keep us
from crumbling into self-doubt,
or even the self-loathing
that seems to be part of adolescence
when a mean girl, a nasty boy,
a bullying woman,
a snide man sneers,
“what’s wrong with you?”

If someone were to ask that of me,
I’d be quick to rattle off a list starting with,
“My hair is thinning,
my waist is expanding,
I actually like broccoli,
and I never really got “Breaking Bad.”

We all have our responses to that cutting question:
“I’m not tall enough,
I’m not smart enough,
I’m not athletic enough,
I’m not good looking enough,
I’m not popular enough,
I’m not rich enough.”

But the good news for us as children of God,
as followers of Christ,
the good news our high schoolers reminded us of
is that even after we’ve run through our list,
after we’ve said,
“I’m not this enough or that enough,
we have an answer,
the perfect answer:
“I am enough.
I am enough.”

“I am enough,”
for God is with me,
God has called me by name.
I am precious,
and honored,
and loved.
Even with my thinning hair
and my expanding waistline;
even if I am not tall enough,
or athletic enough,
or rich enough,
I am enough.

The world is filled with mean, nasty people,
bullies, who deep down are cowards,
whose insecurity leads them to
try to build themselves up
by tearing other people down.
We learn defensive mechanisms against these people
very early on.
We try to be cool, try to be part of group,
try to reshape and remake ourselves to fit in,
or, at the very least, not stand out.

What life teaches us, though, is that
only the movie character Ferris Bueller
fits in with everybody;
as the school secretary told the dean of students,
“The sportos, the motorheads, the geeks,
dweebies, the brains …
they all adore him.
They think he’s a righteous dude.”

The rest of us learn that there will always be people
who will think we somehow
fall short of the standard they’ve set,
that we don’t measure up,
that something is wrong with us,
that we are not enough.
But we are.
I am enough,
you are enough.

The words of the psalmist reinforces,
that we are wonderfully made,
every one of us.
(Psalm 139:14)
I am wonderfully made!
You are wonderfully made!
Go ahead, say it:  “I am wonderfully made.”
Say it again, “I am wonderfully made.”

“I have called you by name,” says the Lord.
“You are mine.”
“Do not fear.”
“I have redeemed you.”
“You are mine.”
“You are wonderfully made.”

Are the hairs on the back of your head tingling?
Doesn’t it feel wonderful?
You are enough.
It doesn’t matter whether you are the funniest,
the coolest,
the most popular,
the thinnest,
the prettiest,
the smartest.

Yes, life can be so difficult, so challenging,
so stressful,
and at times, just so thoroughly awful.
God may have made us,
called us,
redeemed us,
made us enough.
God may love us,
but that doesn’t mean we are not going to go through life
unscarred or unscared.

It is during adolescence that we begin to learn this lesson,
that life is filled with beauty and violence,
joy and sorrow,
health and disease,
and far too many cold, cruel,
uncaring, even vicious people.
We learn that life is often unfair,
and that life is often filled with pain.

We learn, or at least we hope we learn
that suffering is part of life,
something that happens,
not something that God does to us,
not something that happens because we grew weak in faith.
It just happens.
We may never understand why,
even with Job-like persistent and insistent “whys”
lifted up to God.  

Our Lord himself suffered,
suffered long before he was nailed to the cross.
He suffered barbs and taunts not just from
the leaders of the religious community –
the respected priests, scribes, and scholars of the Temple,
but even from members of his hometown of Nazareth.
How many may have listened to what Jesus had to say,
and thought to themselves,
 perhaps even said to others,
“what’s wrong with him?”

Anne Lamott has written a new book entitled Stitches;
it is subtitled, “a handbook on meaning, hope and repair”.
In her wonderfully earthy, lively, and deeply faithful way,
she reminds us that suffering is part of life,
even for people of great faith.

She reminds us that simply living life,
going through each day, will take its toll,
cause ordinary wear and tear,
there will times of trouble, challenge
sadness, fear, anguish, even catastrophe,
times that will tear at the very fabric of our lives.

I’ve lived through more than 21,000 days,
and many of those days have been extraordinary,
rich and full, the sun shining brightly in my life.
Other days have been howling and tempestuous,
leaving me feeling like I was in a small boat
caught in a roiling sea.
The worst though, have been those days
when it seemed like a thick gray fog had rolled in
smothering everything,
the world enveloped in silence,
as though everything had ground to a halt.

I’ve learned through those difficult times
that God will always lead me,
guide me back to light and life,
restore me to wholeness,
stitch the tears,
repair the fabric of my life torn by
whatever life may have thrown at me

I may bear the scars of 21,000 days
but still, I am wonderfully made,
and I still know whose I am,
the One who has called me by name.

It is here in this place, this body of Christ,
that we help one another learn these life lessons.
Nurturing one another in hope is foundational
to our calling as brothers and sisters in Christ.
That’s not to say that this church or any other church
is free from snide or mean or judgmental comments.
Christians can be very mean,
Christians are often a little too good at bullying.

But if we work at trying to live as our Lord calls us to live,
if we work at living love,
if we are attentive to Paul’s words,
Let all things be done for building up
(1 Corinthians 14:26)
then we will also help one another
through the rough patches,
the crises,
the pain,
the suffering.

We’ll help one another of all ages
learn to walk through life unconcerned with the question
“what’s wrong with you”
because we’ve got the answer:
we are wonderfully made,
loved,
honored,
redeemed.

We can walk through adolescence,
early adulthood,
middle age,
the autumn years,
and our twilight with hope,
listening to God’s joyous song
written just for us:
The sun shall no longer be
   your light by day,
nor for brightness shall the moon
   give light to you by night;
but the Lord will be your everlasting light,
   and your God will be your glory.
Your sun shall no more go down,
   or your moon withdraw itself;
for the Lord will be your everlasting light,
Be glad and rejoice forever….
(Isaiah 60:19-20; 65:18)

AMEN