Becoming and Not Yet Being; 2 Thessalonians 2:1-13

 

Rev. George Miller

July 6, 2025

2 Thessalonians 2:13

 

Once upon a time, across the shiny sea, people hungered for the gift of freedom.  Such hunger came with consequences- punishment, persecution, prison.

 

They went to a land of Tulips.  Though free to worship as they yearned, being financially stable was almost impossible.

 

With a blessing from their pastor, Rev. John Robinson they went across the ocean, to a place near Cape Cod.

 

They planted the seeds of democracy and social order, forming a church that would one day be united with others.

 

This new way of living was not easy; freedom mixed with economics rarely is.

 

Years later, 40 miles from that spot, a group met at the Old South Meeting House, upset about the imposition of taxes. 

 

Within the walls of this congregational church they decided to destroy the symbol of injustice, tossing tea into the same sea their ancestors had sailed across.

 

A Revolution took place.

 

Ordinary farmers fought against minions of the monarchy.  Congregational ministers shared support, preaching natural rights and calls to resist tyranny.

 

Like the Mother of Moses, Zion Reformed Church hid the Liberty Bell from the British, under the floor where they worshipped each Sunday.

 

In 1776 this new land won its freedom, adopting a Declaration of Independence, casting aside political bands.

 

Holding truths to be self-evident- that all men are created equal, endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights- life, liberty, pursuit of happiness.

 

Decades later, others across the shiny sea were identifying with a more confessional expression of faith.  Since they would not bend to the will of Prussia’s King, they too endured persecution.

 

Desiring to be free, they set sail across the ocean, up the mighty Mississippi, escaping hardship, embracing economic opportunities in a place called Missouri.

 

They established churches, educational systems, hospitals, and places of elder care.

 

It is inspiring what the thirst for freedom can do; what the hunger for autonomy looks like; how folks, families would rather brave rough waters and unknown land to be free, rather than be forced to live a lie or bow to a king.

 

What a privilege it is to not only be an American, but to also be a member of the UCC which has played a role in the formation of our country.

 

Be it setting sail from Holland, holding the original Tea Pary, hiding the Liberty Bell, to the community care in Missouri,

the seeds, roots, and flowers of the UCC have been right there.

 

As we celebrate the 4^th of July, it is good to celebrate all we have achieved and what being an American means.  It is good for us to look at what we have done wrong, what we can do better, and when we failed our Founding Father’s vision.

 

When has our quest for freedom led us to the top of the mountain and when have we been deep in the valley?

 

Our country is still very young.  Compared to other nations, America is just starting kindergarten.

 

Meanwhile Greece is like a 75-year-old uncle enjoying the Villages in Florida; Egypt is a 90-year-old grandma with a condo in Phoenix, enjoying hummingbirds and no humidity.

 

America is still new; so much to learn and accomplish.  In 1776, we held these truths to be self-evident- that all men are created equal, endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights- life, liberty, pursuit of happiness.

 

Did we achieve these goals immediately?

 

Well, it wasn’t until 1865 that the selling and owning of people officially ended.

 

In 1967, if a white man in St. Louis wanted to marry a woman of Asian descent, they had to go across the Mississippi to Illinois.

 

Women couldn’t get a credit card without their father’s or husband’s signature until 1974.

 

I couldn’t marry the one I loved until 10 years ago.

 

Wednesday, at Whole Foods, I met a man of Peruvian descent whose parents were naturalized ages ago.  He’s scared to leave home, staying inside with his Mom who came here to be free.

 

Today we are a nation divided.  Some think this is the best time ever; others are worried.

 

Some are loving all the songs we are singing today; some may wonder how we can raise our voices up when other voices are being silenced.

 

For me, it’s because I believe in the dream, I hold onto the claim, the reason my Great-Grandpa Nicoli came here from Romania.

 

America has yet to fully become who we said we are.  We’ve had huge successes, taken strides, had setbacks.

 

This is normal for any nation, any group of people that dare to do something new.

 

The challenge, the bravery, is that we keep keeping on. 

 

Gifts like our freedom of speech; our right to worship, our ability to rise from nothing to something are gifts we give thanks for and do not forget.

 

Otherwise, how could I be here today giving this message?  How could we gather here together?

 

America is a nation, is one that is constantly becoming, evolving, figuring it out.

 

In some ways, this is what today’s reading is about.

 

It is a scripture so short, so rich, said to be written during a time of persecution, much like what our ancestors faced.

 

The author wants everyone to be strong although injustice and lawlessness abounds.

 

He demonstrates strength two ways.  The first is a spirit of gratitude, giving thanks for one another; for what God has done.

 

The second way is discussing sanctification by the Spirit.

 

Sanctification is such a long word, and a confusing topic.  What does it mean? 

 

For some, being sanctified means you no longer do what you used to do- you are now saved, holy, separate.  You know the word, live the word, are an example for all to admire and follow.

 

Some make sanctification into a measuring stick; like ex-smokers who use to light up 3 packs a day but judge you the moment you take out a lighter.

 

There is another way to see sanctification- that it’s about the “already” and the “not yet.”

 

It’s about the desire to be braver, live more in the moment, to exist on earth as if heaven is already here.

 

Sanctification isn’t about arriving and saying “I’m here,” but being on the journey and saying “I’m on my way.”

 

This way of seeing sanctification provides a place for grace, allows space for trial and error, honest mistakes, and unexpected experiences.

 

Sanctification is like a holy “letting go,” of not having to know it all, do it all, be all, but to be open to the possibilities and ways the Spirit leads.

 

In some ways, a person saying they want to be sanctified is a sign that they already are.

 

Sanctification is not always about what we do, but what God does through us, and the fruits that grow out of it.

 

It can be said that being sanctified is like being an American- we are, but we have so much more to do, learn, own up to, and let go.

 

Today’s letter wants the first Christians to know that things were not perfect, but they are worthy of thanks and bearers of fruit.

 

So are we.  As Christians, as Americans, we also follow the Spirit, rooted in Christ.

 

Like the faith of our Fathers and the faith of our Mothers, we discern when to act; and when to wait.

 

When to speak; when to listen.

 

When to gather thoughts; when to unapologetically share them.

 

When to be still; when to move.  When to protect what’s yours; when to be willing to risk it all.

 

When to say “Enough!”; when to whisper “What can I do?”  

 

Once upon a time, across the shiny sea, a group of people hungered for the gift of freedom.

 

We are the descendants of those people.  As such we hold onto what they hungered for.

 

We celebrate what we have achieved; we sanctify that which is yet to come.

 

May our eyes recognize the glory of God.  May our hearts hear the call of Jesus.

 

May our minds follow the wisdom of the Holy Spirit.

 

For that, let us say “Amen.”

Wisdom of Poppa Paul; Philippians 4:1-9

 

Rev. George Miller

June 29, 2025

Philippians 4:1-9

 

What a month!  What a month we’ve had-

Pass the Brick Lego Work Day

Pentecost; Ministry Fair

Mission Trip Shares

Juneteenth; Pet Blessing

68^th Anniversary of the UCC

LGBTQ PRIDE.

 

All I can say is- Poor Dads.

 

All the men of St. Lucas who get one day in the year to celebrate Fatherhood and you can’t really get a full Sunday to celebrate it because of so many other events.

 

Somewhere on this planet a church held a “Happy Father’s Juneteeth Gay Pride UCC Day” worship service; be we weren’t the one.

 

Bless our Dads, and all the men who have done the best they can do; and may we gracefully mourn those who did not or could not…

 

In some ways, today we can celebrate all these things, as we dwell with Paul inside his home, and hear his words of freedom, rejoice, and unity.

 

Paul is not just our Brother in Christ, but he is also one of the Fathers of our faith, establishing many churches along his journeys.

 

So let us take a moment to learn about what’s going on.

 

After his tearful goodbye to the elders in Asia Minor, Paul is in Rome under house arrest for 2 years, awaiting trial.

 

We can only imagine what it’s like for Paul, limited to the walls of his home and property line.  Part of the time he is chained to a Roman soldier. 

 

Though under house arrest, he can have guests, preach, teach, write and receive letters.

 

He experiences the mild weather of Fall and Winter with cloudy skies, damp stone buildings that call for a light cloak at night.

 

And the long, dry warm-to-hot days of Spring and Summer, with sunny skies and a breeze from the Tiber River, waters he can sense but cannot go to.

 

One day a package arrives from Philippi; in it a gift- something sweet-smelling that lifts his day.  Perhaps a candle from the Flower Patch, or essential oil from Kirkwood Farmers Market.

 

Whatever it is prompts Paul to write this letter of thanks and guidance to those in Philippi.

 

Philippi has the most special place in Paul’s heart.  It’s where he met Lydia, a businesswoman who became the 1^st convert in Europe. 

 

Her home becomes the 1^st European church, known for their generosity and care. 

 

Over the decade Paul and the people of Philippi maintain a close, supportive relationship.

 

Even when Paul was a continent away, they sent money to support him.  Even when he’s under Roman arrest, they do not neglect him.

 

Though other churches seem to fail Paul, even when other Christ followers have forgotten about him, those in Philippi do not.

 

They send him a sweet-smelling gift.  Though he’s under arrest, though they’ll never see each other again, he has joy in remembering them.

 

There is another part to this letter.  Paul has gotten word that in this thriving, generous community, some infighting has taken place.

 

2 of the women, Euodia and Syntyche just can’t seem to get along, and it’s hurting the community.  It baffles Paul.

 

He knows these women; he knows their heart.  They have worked side by side, as equals.  They have been strong, solid leaders and co-ministers.

 

Now there’s confusion.

 

So Paul, filled with wisdom that comes from age and lived experience, writes this letter to not only thank folks for their gift, but to bring a sense of harmony into the church.

 

Paul does it so beautifully, so honestly.  He grounds everything in grace and Christ’s humility.

 

Paul gives thanks for them, how they hold him in their heart.  He prays that their love for the Gospel grows and overflows.

 

He reflects upon his life. 

 

He looks ahead, knowing soon he will die. He looks back, over his life, with no regrets, seeing how everything came together and glorified God.

 

In a moment of theological clarity he says “In no way have I reached the goal, but I press on, because Christ Jesus has made me his own.”

 

He reminds the church that they should have the same mind and love.  To look towards Christ who poured himself out.

 

Like a loving Dad, he warns them of what to watch out for.

 

Like a Big Poppa, he encourages the feuding siblings to work things out.

 

Then, from his reality of house arrest, possibly chained to a Roman guard, Paul writes-

 

“Whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is pure, pleasing, worthy of praise think about them.  Keep doing what you’re doing and all you learned.”

 

Last week we witnessed Paul’s tearful goodbye to the elders as he prepared to board a boat to Jerusalem.  Today, we hear his words to a church that is a world away. 

 

He says “I rejoice in God that you care about me.  I’m content.  I’ve had little, I’ve had a lot.  I know what it’s like to be well-fed and what it’s like to go to bed hungry.”

 

“I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.”

 

What Paul writes is soulful; his expression of faith; his strength in Jesus.

 

The freedom he finds, even when in chains, even if he is sad or melancholy.

 

From the damp cold of winter to the heat of summer, Paul finds a stability in Christ and a reason for his life.

 

In response to their sweet smelling gift and the issues they face, Paul uses this time to remind them, reassure them, and to celebrate them.

 

They are saints, they are siblings, they are generous, they are joy…as are we.

 

So in Christ, we keep on keeping on,

Brick by brick,

in freedom and in pride, blessings and mission, knowing that although perfection will never be reached, Jesus Christ has already made us his own.

 

For that we can say “Amen.”

Sacredness of Sadness & Acceptance; Acts 20:1-24

 

Rev. George Miller

June 22, 2025

Acts 20:1-24

 

Last Fall, we shared a new tradition- Stump the Pastor Sunday.  Y’all embraced it, submitting scriptures to prod my spiritual neurons.

 

This Summer we’ll hear some of the texts you suggested, getting to learn and grow together.

 

Together, because that is such a beautiful way to be, especially knowing that life can feel so confusing, so alone, so melancholy at times.

 

Confusing and melancholy are not words we often associate with worship.  They are often what we want to ignore and not feel.

 

Yet they are emotions that all people of our faith family have experienced, from Abraham on that starry night, to Mary at the garden tomb.

 

Just as God’s love is limitless, there is space in our sanctuary to welcome and honor these emotions.  This sacred moment we experience together is one in which our joy and praise is welcomed AND so is our melancholy and loneliness.

 

There is sacredness to our sadness and our struggles.  There is a sacredness in accepting things that we cannot change or avoid.

 

So into this time, surrounded by history and stories of those who came before, we step into our scripture to hear what Paul has to say. 

 

The church in Jerusalem has been bustling.  Paul has been hustling, going all over the globe. 

 

He’s enjoyed the culinary tastes of lentil stew in Asia, bread broken in Galatia, and hopefully he got to have a horn of honey mead.

 

Paul has accomplished much, being a part of new beginnings and transformed lives.  He’s had successes and celebrations, monumental failures and epic uproars.

 

He reached out to the disciples in hopes of going back to Jerusalem by Passover, but plans change when word get out that people are threatening to hurt him.

 

Paul takes a detour.  But 5  days becomes 12 days then weeks.  Paul is anxious, hoping that he can at least make it back by Pentecost.

 

There is such a relatable-ness to this story- Paul just wants to make it back home; he wants to be amongst his spiritual, emotional core where he has roots and understands the ways of the city.  But situations are preventing him from getting there.

 

How many of us have had that experience- of being away from family/ friends, not being there for an important moment?

 

That sad ache that comes from not being where you want to be?

 

Paul does, and it’s not because he lacks faith, but because he is human and he can feel.

 

A second factor of Paul’s journey emerges- his own mortality.  He is aware that when he arrives in Jerusalem, he could die.

 

This is not Paul being chaotic or dramatic.  This is Paul well aware of what’s unfolding around him. 

 

In this scripture we witness things that are so personally sacred- a person trying to make it back and one who is facing their own death.

 

The sadness of deferred plans and missed gatherings.  The sadness of facing life’s changes and our mortality.

 

We experience the way Paul lives with these realities; the sacredness of his acceptance.

 

Though not in control of what may happen, Paul chooses how he responds.

 

He gathers the elders, shares his story, lifts up how they served the Lord, changed lives, helped others.

 

Although Paul just wanted to go back and celebrate the holiday, he uses this moment to display such a raw and faithful way to embody divine acceptance and be at peace.

 

He says to the elders “Held by the Spirit, with no idea what will happen next, I am on my way.  I know it won’t be easy.  I hope that at the end, I can finish knowing I accomplished what Jesus asked me to do and testified to the Good News of God’s grace.”

 

After he speaks, they kneel, pray, embrace, kiss, grieve … and then they escort him to the ship that will take him away.

 

Wow…This moment from 2,000 years ago is so real that it feels as if it is happening right now, and we are there.

 

Paul is so aware of what may happen next.  No one changes the subject, ignores it, or tries to make people laugh.

 

They allow this moment to be.  They allow the sacredness of sadness.  They honor the holiness of Paul’s acceptance.

 

It is so beautiful.

 

Many of us know what it is like to have those moments; when things don’t go as planned.

 

What it’s like to miss home; wanting to go back but there is an issue beyond your control.

 

We know what it is like to battle with acceptance of things that we do not want or feel so unfair.

 

The acceptance that the job you dreamt of said “No.”  The acceptance of aging; that now you need glasses to read, a cane to walk.

 

Acceptance of when it is time to move from your house or move into a facility.

 

Paul could have run away from what awaited him; but running would have only added time and anxiety.

 

Instead, he accepted the journey he was on.  He stepped forward onto that boat. 

 

In his bravery, Paul was not alone.  The elders were there.  With tears in their eyes and prayer in their hearts.

 

In his bravery, Paul was not alone.  The might of Moses and Miriam were there as were the voices of Esther and Isaiah.

 

In his bravery, Paul was not alone.  The resurrected Christ was there, surrounding him with comfort and grace.

 

Sometimes life can feel so confusing, so melancholy, feelings we don’t often want to feel, and may try to ignore.

 

Yet they are worthy of being recognized.  These feelings can be sacred and are holy.

 

That’s why it is so good that we can gather, either online or in this space and be together.

 

Together, we get to be honest, we get to be strong.

 

We get to say that even when we feel melancholy, confused, or facing a reality we just don’t want to face, those feelings are sacred.

 

God is in the space with us.  The Holy Spirit is giving us the strength to face what is next. 

 

Jesus is reminding us that a life lived in him can never be a life that is without meaning.

 

For that, let us say “Amen.”