Hearken and Heed

The Rev. Dr. Skip Ferguson

Manassas Presbyterian Church

Manassas, Virginia

October 25, 2015

Hearken and Heed

1 Kings 19:11-13

He said, “Go out and

stand on the mountain before the Lord,

for the Lord is about to pass by.”

Now there was a great wind,

so strong that it was splitting mountains

and breaking rocks in pieces before the Lord;

but the Lord was not in the wind;

and after the wind an earthquake;

but the Lord was not in the earthquake;

and after the earthquake a fire,

but the Lord was not in the fire;

and after the fire a sound of sheer silence.

“a sound of fine silence”

When Elijah heard it, he wrapped his face in his mantle

and went out and stood at the entrance of the cave.

Then there came a voice to him that said,

“What are you doing here, Elijah?”

*************************************************

Elijah was afraid,

afraid for his very life.

He was a man on the run,

hiding from an angry king and queen:

King Ahab and Queen Jezebel,

who ruled not long after King Solomon.

Elijah was especially afraid of Jezebel,

who was furious with the prophet

because Elijah had challenged Jezebel’s prophets,

prophets of the pagan god Baal,

the god Jezebel worshiped.

The queen had made it clear:

she wanted Elijah dead,

uttering her own prophecy

in a solemn oath

that she would see to Elijah’s death

“… by this time tomorrow.”

(1 Kings 19:2)

Could anyone blame Elijah for running,

fleeing for safety,

fleeing for his life?

He went south, down in the desert

to Beersheba in the Negev,

the land that leads to Egypt.

Elijah knew the desert

to be a place hostile to all life.

He knew that if he went further south

he would surely die in the desert

from hunger, heat, and thirst.

But the road back was also a road

that would lead to death.

So Elijah sat down under a bush

and lifted up a prayer to the Lord God,

words that expressed Elijah’s hopelessness:

“It is enough.

Now, O Lord, take away my life.”

(1 Kings 19:4)

Exhaustion, both physical and emotional,

overwhelmed Elijah

and he fell asleep.

Twice he found his sleep disturbed;

Had it been a dream, a vision,

or had it been real?

Had an angel of the Lord

brought him food and water

not just once, but twice?

It had been real; it was real:

an angel fed Elijah and then called him,

called him to travel further south,

deeper into the desert.

For 40 days and 40 nights Elijah journeyed,

until he reached Mount Horeb,

also known as Mount Sinai.

And there Elijah found shelter

in a cave on the mountain.

Elijah was alone in the cave,

utterly alone.

But then, in the silence came a voice

a voice that asked him,

“What are you doing here, Elijah?”

Elijah responded as though

he thought the voice to be God’s.

the voice of the Lord God himself,

for he was on God’s holy mountain:

“I have been very zealous for the Lord,

the God of hosts;

for the Israelites have forsaken your covenant,

thrown down your altars,

and killed your prophets.

I alone am left,

and they are seeking my life,

to take it away.”

The voice responded:

“Go out and stand on the mountain before the Lord,

for the Lord is about to pass by.”

Elijah did as he was told.

And then came “…a great wind,

so strong that it was splitting mountains

and breaking rocks in pieces before the Lord;

but the Lord was not in the wind;

and after the wind an earthquake;

but the Lord was not in the earthquake;

and after the earthquake a fire;

but the Lord was not in the fire;

and after the fire a sound of sheer silence.

[“a sound of fine silence”]

When Elijah heard it,

he wrapped his face in his mantle

and went out and stood at the entrance of the cave.

Then there came a voice to him that said, [again]

“What are you doing here, Elijah?”

We have all had moments in our lives

when we strained to hear,

when we might even have been desperate to hear,

hear the sound of God’s voice,

to hear and then feel God’s

reassuring presence in our lives.

We strained to hear,

only to have heard nothing,

only to have felt nothing.

The only sound we knew

was the sound of silence.

We lift up our prayers in hope,

wanting nothing more than

the “still small voice” to respond to us,

to say to us, “you have been heard;

I am here with you.”

But God does hear us;

God is with us.

God speaks to us constantly,

in a hundred different ways,

a thousand different ways.

But if we hope to hear that voice

we need to make room for it,

we need to make a calm,

quiet place in our lives

so we can hear.

We live in a world of noise,

a world of busy-ness,

a world of frenetic activity.

How can we hope to hear God’s voice

in the sheer silence, the fine silence,

when other sounds overwhelm us?

How often did Jesus leave his disciples,

his followers,

so he could go and have a few quiet moments,

quiet for prayer,

quiet for listening for his Father’s voice,

his Father’s will?

I’ve spent a great deal of time in “fine silence”

this past year as the many projects we hope to support

through our capital campaign have been shaped,

discussed, and prayed over.

I’ve spent time in silence listening,

listening for God’s guiding words,

listening for God’s wisdom:

“are these the things this body of Christ

is called to do?”

I’ve also spent a great deal of time in prayer

seeking God’s will and guidance

for my own involvement,

for what God is calling me to do,

for my financial contribution to our campaign.

The words “sacrificial giving”

and the scriptural call to be a “cheerful giver”

have been swirling around me for months

like the winds outside Elijah’s cave,

swirling winds speaking to me,

telling me of God’s will for me.

I am at an age where logic, rational thinking,

careful planning, my MBA

all combine in their own whirlwind

telling me I should be setting aside as much as I can

for my retirement.  

I have the same financial concerns we all do:

a mortgage payment, utility bills,

expenses for food, clothing,

repairs and upkeep for the house, the car.

Like all of us,

I try to set money aside for vacations,

for special needs,

and of course, retirement.

In fact, these days,

saving for retirement is top of the list.

So as I’ve prayed about how I should respond

to our Capital Campaign

the whirling wind of sacrificial giving

and cheerful giving,

has been all around me,

but underneath my feet

I’ve felt the ground shaking

as though trying to shake financial sense into me:

“the prudent course is for you to

save for your retirement.”

The voice,

that still small voice,

the voice in the silence

has been clear,

leaving me with no doubt

as to what God has called me to do.

And so, a week ago,

in response to God’s clear call,

and with great joy –

yes, truly cheerfully,

I filled out my pledge card for the campaign

and returned it to Lisa Faust.

I sent a note to our campaign chairs,

Monique Ford and Jeff Cooke,

telling them that I felt God had called me

to make a leadership commitment,

to stretch myself well beyond

what I’ve ever done before

in my life in the church.

God was in the whirlwind,

the voice calling me to sacrificial giving,

the voice calling me to cheerful giving.

and so, I filled out my pledge card joyfully

knowing that I was responding

to God’s will for me.

I filled out my pledge card joyfully

as my legacy to the future of our church,

as my legacy to the young people,

to the children,

to the stranger who hasn’t yet

even set foot in this place,

but will someday

when the Spirit guides him, guides her here,

for worship, for prayer,

for learning in our adult education classes,

for the music,

for fellowship,

for opportunities for his or her children.

I filled out my pledge card joyfully

as my expression of gratitude to all those saints

on whose shoulders I stand,

pastors and parishioners alike,

who built this church over the past 148 years.

We are called to hearken to God’s word,

and then heed God’s word,

to use two quaint words.

We are called to hearken – to listen,

and then heed and follow,…

just as Elijah did.

        

In the silence, we can hear it,

the voice speaking to us,

calling us to respond

joyfully, faithfully.                   

Hearken to these words from the psalmist:

“The Lord is my chosen portion and my cup;
 you hold my lot. …

I have a goodly heritage.

I bless the Lord who gives me counsel;

in the night also my heart instructs me.

I keep the Lord always before me;

because he is at my right hand,

I shall not be moved.

Therefore my heart is glad,

and my soul rejoices;

my body also rests secure.
…You show me the path of life.

 In your presence there is fullness of joy.”

(Psalm 16)

To God be the glory!

AMEN

A State of Mind

The Rev. Dr. Skip Ferguson

Manassas Presbyterian Church

Manassas, Virginia

October 18, 2015

A State of Mind

1 Chronicles 16:8-36

(selected verses)

“O give thanks to the Lord, call on his name,

make known his deeds among the peoples.

Sing to him, sing praises to him,

tell of all his wonderful works.

Glory in his holy name;

let the hearts of those who seek the Lord rejoice.”

In Jesus’ day the laws were clear:

they were to live outside the town’s border.

They were considered to be ritually unclean;

the law required them to shout, “Unclean, Unclean”

if anyone approached them.

They were severely deformed,

hideous to look at:

men and women afflicted with leprosy,

a disease that attacked the skin.

Those with the disease literally wasted away

until they died a painful death,

alone,

outcasts from family, friends,

the entire community.

Lepers were allowed to come to

the edge of town each day to beg,

beg for a few coins,

beg for a crust of bread to eat.

But when the sun set, they had to leave,

had to go back outside of town,

back to the camp where lepers lived;

cut off from family,

from community,

because they were unclean…unclean.

So when Jesus first approached a leper,

even his disciples were alarmed.

As the leper spoke to Jesus,

the disciples watched warily,

keeping their own distance,

even as they heard the man say to Jesus,

“Lord, if you choose you can make me clean.”

Jesus’ followers watched in shock,

terrified, as Jesus reached out his hand

and touched the man,

saying to him so gently,

“Be made clean”.

(Luke 5:12ff)

Not long after that first encounter with a leper

Jesus and his followers were walking south,

heading from Galilee to Jerusalem,

passing through the region known as Samaria.

A group of lepers approached,

each hideous to look at,

their foul smell sickening the disciples.

They couldn’t pass the lepers quickly enough.

But then, to their horror,

the lepers – ten of them –

walked directly toward Jesus,

shouting not, “unclean, unclean,”

as they were supposed to,

but, “Jesus, Master, have mercy on us!”

Jesus’ response to them was again so simple,

so gentle:

“Go and show yourselves to the priests”,

for the Levitical Code was clear:

it was up to the priests to decide

whether a person was clean or unclean,

whether a person had leprosy

or was free of the disease

and could return to family,

to community.

The men turned away in response to

Jesus’ instructions.

They knew the law,

and so they headed for where

they knew they’d find the priest.

“And as they went,

they were made clean.”

Each man could feel something happening,

happening to his body,

happening to his skin.

Excitement gripped the men

and they picked up their pace,

hurrying to get to the priest,

eager to stand before the priest,

eager to hear him pronounce them clean.

But one of the ten stopped,

stopped and looked at his hands,

and then reached up and touched his cheeks,

ran his fingers across his forehead,

gripped the bridge of his nose,

traced the skin around the back of his neck,

pulled on his earlobes.

He lifted up his filthy, foul robe

and looked at his feet,

his ankles,

his calves.

The skin was clean,

healthy,

whole.

The others, 9 of them, ran on,

but this man turned,

turned and ran back,

ran back to where Jesus still stood.

And when he got to Jesus

he dropped to the ground, prostrate,

his face down in the dirt and stones,

but his voice lifted up to the heavens in joy,

raising God,

and thanking Jesus.

Jesus watched and listened, quietly,

as this man,

a Samaritan,

praised God.

And then Jesus reached out his hand

to help the man stand back up on healthy feet,

healthy legs,

As the man stood,

Jesus said to him,

and said to all those gathered around him,

“Were not ten made clean?

But the other nine, where are they?

Was none of them found to return

and give praise to God

except this foreigner?”

(Luke 17:11-19)

“O give thanks to the Lord, call on his name,

make known his deeds among the peoples.

Sing to him, sing praises to him,

tell of all his wonderful works.

Glory in his holy name;

let the hearts of those who seek the Lord rejoice.

… Sing to the Lord, all the earth.

Tell of his salvation from day to day.

Declare his glory among the nations,

his marvelous works among all the peoples.

For great is the Lord, and greatly to be praised;

… O give thanks to the Lord, for he is good;

for his steadfast love endures forever.”

Gratitude is a state of mind.

Thankfulness is a state of mind.

It is acknowledgement,

it is recognition,

it is seeing,

seeing beyond ourselves,

seeing all the way back to the source,

the source of blessings.

                                   

“O give thanks to the Lord,

call on his name,
make known his deeds among the peoples.

Sing to him, sing praises to him,
tell of all his wonderful works.”

These are King David’s words of

gratitude and thanksgiving,

words spoken 3,000 years ago,

words that reflected his state of mind.

                 

There he was, David,

at the height of his power,

king over a united Judah and Israel,

established in Jerusalem,

the Philistines finally defeated,

the Ark of the Covenant settled in Jerusalem

in a Holy Tabernacle

How easy it would have been

for David to have celebrated himself,

his triumphs,

his countless triumphs.

But David’s state of mind was one of gratitude,

grounded in humility.

He knew that but for God,

he would have had no triumphs;

he knew that but for God,

he’d have spent his life as a shepherd.

“O give thanks to the Lord,

call on his name,

make known his deeds among the peoples.

Sing to him,

sing praises to him,

tell of all his wonderful works.”

Alone among the ten healed lepers,

the Samaritan understood this;

alone among the ten,

the Samaritan sang God’s praise

and expressed his deepest gratitude to Jesus.

                          

The others, the nine,

perhaps were too giddy,

caught up in the excitement of having been healed,

eager to hear the words of the priest

pronouncing them officially clean.

But still, why didn’t they see God

at work in their lives?

How well do we, you and I,

see God at work in our lives?

We are taught from the moment

we draw our first breath

to achieve, to excel,

and when success comes our way,

we celebrate ourselves,

our hard work, our diligence.

But who graces us with ability?

Who graces us with health and energy?

Who blesses us and guides us

and sees to our needs,

even giving us this day our daily bread

“Ascribe to the Lord, O families of the peoples,

ascribe to the Lord glory and strength.

Ascribe to the Lord the glory due his name;”

What are you thankful for?

Truly thankful.

Family? Of course.

Friends? Of course.

Good health? Of course.

Your home? Of course.

Vocation? Of course.

Then thank God!

Sing with David:

“give thanks to the Lord,

call on his name,…

Sing to him, sing praises to him.”

“Praise God from whom

all blessings flow.”

See God’s blessings in your life,

every part of it,

including your life here in this church,

this church to which God called you.

                          

“Seek the Lord and his strength,

seek his presence continually.

Remember the wonderful works he has done…
Honor and majesty are before him;

strength and joy are in his place.

Ascribe to the Lord, O families of the peoples,

ascribe to the Lord glory and strength.

Ascribe to the Lord the glory due his name;
    

Bring an offering, and come before him.
…Worship the Lord in holy splendor;

…Let the heavens be glad,

and let the earth rejoice,

and let them say among the nations,

“The Lord is king!”

Let the sea roar, and all that fills it;
let the field exult, and everything in it.

Then shall the trees of the forest

sing for joy before the Lord, …

O give thanks to the Lord, for he is good;
for his steadfast love endures forever….

Give thanks to the Lord,

for he is good;

his steadfast love endures forever….

Let all God’s children praise the Lord!

AMEN

Called to Leap

The Rev. Dr. Skip Ferguson

Manassas Presbyterian Church

Manassas, Virginia

October 11, 2015

Called To Leap

Matthew 4:18-22

As he walked by the Sea of Galilee, he saw two brothers,

Simon, who is called Peter, and Andrew his brother,

casting a net into the sea—for they were fishermen.

And he said to them,

“Follow me, and I will make you fish for people.”

Immediately they left their nets and followed him.

As he went from there, he saw two other brothers,

James son of Zebedee and his brother John,

in the boat with their father Zebedee,

mending their nets,

and he called them.

Immediately they left the boat and their father,

and followed him.

*******************************************

“Who would want to donate money for a boiler,

or fix a parking lot full of potholes?

Who would want to donate money to repair a leaky roof?”

These were questions asked at meeting of the

Board of Directors of the YMCA of Greater Buffalo

thirty years ago, back in the mid-1980s.

I had just joined the Board as a director,

and I was attending my first meeting.

The agenda that day was whether the Y

should organize a capital campaign.

There were 6 facilities under

the umbrella of the metro Y,

and the vice president of operations had reported

that every one, every facility,

was in desperate need of capital improvements:

boilers needed replacing,

parking lots were filled with potholes

from Buffalo winters,

locker rooms were pungent from inadequate ventilation,

roofs leaked.

The YMCA of Metro Buffalo

had been established in 1852

and was the second oldest Y in the country.

Over the decades it had had many capital campaigns.

Each campaign in the past, though,

had been to build a new facility,

add new gym, install a pool –

it had always been something bigger, better.

What our Board was considering in our 132^nd year

was something quite different,

something we’d never done before:

a capital campaign dedicated to fixing,

replacing,

repairing.

The question,

“who would donate to replace a boiler or

fill a pothole

or patch a roof”

expressed a concern that many directors had

as we listened, discussed, and discerned.

The Y’s president and the vice president

of operations persevered, though:

we had to make the repairs,

we had to make the improvements;

they were necessary for our future,

they were necessary for the Y to have a future.

There were some on the Board

who strongly opposed embarking

on such a campaign:

they thought it was too much money,

or that things that could be deferred,

or that things were not really that bad,

or that it was just a bad time for a capital campaign.

But when it came time for a vote,

the support for the campaign

was all but unanimous,

and we launched a $2.5 million campaign.

A year later we celebrated

that we’d actually exceeded the goal.

The work got done,

and the Y, now in its 163^rd year,

is, from everything I hear,

more vibrant than ever.

That was my first experience

with a capital campaign.

The campaign was a success –

not because donors were swept up

by the exciting prospect of

bright boilers, patched potholes,

or shiny shingles;

it was a success because everyone involved –

our Board, staff, members, and donors –

got swept up in the excitement

of the Y’s proud history and bright future.

Donors made their commitments

to build on the Y’s foundation

to assure the Y’s future.

Our campaign here at MPC is much the same.

We all know we need to replace the roof,

that, like the roofs on our homes,

after a time, the shingles need to be replaced.

And certainly it makes far more sense

to pay for it now,

rather then borrow the money

and then pay a bank tens of thousands of dollars

in interest.

We all know as well that once

we replace the roof outside,

we need to replace all the stained,

rotted ceiling tiles inside

damaged over the years by all those leaks.

We may well have a damaged ceiling tile

for every member of our church!

We also know we need to replace

the wiring infrastructure here in our Sanctuary –

the wiring for our lighting.

No, we are not proposing to change the light fixtures,

as some have wondered.

No, this is about changing

the operating system and wiring

that we don’t see,

that’s behind the scene,

a system and wiring that is 40 years old,

a system and wiring that is outdated,

can no longer be properly maintained,

and may soon become a fire hazard

if we don’t replace it.

We know we need to replace

the audio system in our Sanctuary:

equipment wears out,

and at some point

we have to replace microphones, speakers, computers.

Did you know that the computer we use to burn DVDs

of our services is so old that it takes

one full hour to burn one DVD?

The things that need changing

aren’t part a vanity project

so we can have the best,

the newest, the shiniest.

The things we’ve identified are things that will

enhance and enrich our worship services,

as we gather in this space to glorify God.

As we’ve talked about the need to

replace audio equipment in the Sanctuary,

we’ve also talked about video,

and that, of course,

has led to talk about screens.

Now, even just mentioning

video screens in the Sanctuary

elicits strong reactions –

in any congregation,

not just here,

typically captured one of two ways:

“you’ll install screens over my dead body”,

or “the day you install screens

is the day I leave this church”.

The reality, though, is, that we learn better

when we see as well as hear.

Schools use visual learning

not because it is cool and hip,

but because it is effective.

Many of us have been through

PowerPoint presentations

that have been insufferably boring.

Many of us have been to church services

where the screens were distracting and annoying.

But don’t you see:

that’s not a condemnation of the technology;

it is a condemnation of how they were used.

PowerPoint presentations can be

insufferably boring;

but they can also be extraordinarily effective.

The use of screens in worship can be

distracting and unhelpful,

but they can also enhance a worship service immensely.

Those who have been part of my

Wednesday morning Bible Study group,

know I use my computer and

the television monitor in Room 5 all the time,

to take us to other parts of the world,

and to take us back in time.

As just an example:

the class has seen a trove of

religious art and artifacts

from the Metropolitan Museum of Art

and the Cloisters Museum

in New York City,

and the National Gallery of Art in downtown D.C.

all from the comfort of Room 5.

Melissa also is an avid user of visual technology –

both in her Thursday evening Bible Study class

and in the Lenten series she and I present each year.

We both use visual technology because it works.

Deborah and I have talked

about how to convey music on screens;

No one – not Deborah, not me,

not anyone involved in worship

wants to take us back to the days

some of us remember from childhood,

the days of “follow the bouncing ball”

with lyrics scrolling on a screen.

So we are still working out how to provide music.

There are other projects that are on the table,

as most of you have learned

as you participated in the focus groups

organized by Mike Yelanjian, Janice Moore, and Jeff Shriver.

An updated sign out front,

a memorial garden,

funds to launch a special mission project.

What all these projects have in common

is that they build on our proud history,

our 148-year history,

and point us to the future as

faithful followers of Christ.

We stand on the shoulders of all those saints

who have gone before us:

those who took a leap of faith back in 1867

to establish our church

out of the ash and rubble of the Civil War;

Those who in 1875 constructed the brownstone building

that was our church home

for one hundred years,

a building that still stands in Old Town,

a building that was built in the midst of a

severe economic recession that gripped this country

for most of the 1870s.

Those who strengthened

the foundation of our church

through years of war,

economic recessions,

the Great Depression,

and other challenging times.

                                            

And of course, those who in the early 1970s said

“this space is too small –

God needs more room,

Jesus needs more space

to welcome disciples for worship,

to nurture children,

and to reach out to the community.”

Our lesson reminds us that taking a leap of faith

is part of being a disciple of Jesus Christ.

Peter, Andrew, James, John:

they left their lucrative fishing business

to follow Jesus;

they dropped their nets and

“immediately” followed Jesus.

They each took a leap of faith,

as did the disciples who followed them.

It is time for us to take a leap of faith,

building on the foundation on which we stand,

you and I.

That’s what this campaign is all about.

It is ambitious, but realistic;

after all,

aren’t all things possible with God?

It is easy to be critical;

it is harder to take a leap of faith.

But let’s do just that,

all of us, together.

Let’s take a leap of faith,

and covenant to make our

capital campaign successful;

in fact, let’s surpass the goal.

And at the same time,

let’s also make our annual giving campaign

the most successful ever.

Annual giving has been flat the past 4 years,

even as costs have gone up.

We have a deficit budget this year

because we haven’t kept up.

Let’s take a leap of faith,

and let’s make our Stewardship campaign

our most successful ever.

And then, in two short months,

in the glorious season of Advent,

what joy we will surely all feel as we celebrate.

What joy we will surely all feel

as we shout,

“To God be the glory!”

and as we sing out,

“Glory to God in the highest!”

AMEN