Rev. George Miller
Feb 28, 2018
Mark 1:21-28
There’s a sweet, sweet spirit in this place.
More than a sentiment, it is a song that we have sung here many times.
“There’s a sweet, sweet spirit in this place, and I know that it’s the Spirit of the Lord…”
And more than just a song, this hymn has left a legacy and a mighty mission.
60 years, a young black female minster named Willa Grant Battle established a mission in Boutillier, Haiti while at the same time establishing a church in Minneapolis.
Though her ministry took place in two separate worlds, she loved them both.
The mission in Haiti was located in a poor rural area, but over the decades grew to 50 churches and 10 schools.
These places became spots for health centers, sewing circles, and community farms.
Dr. Battle would bring vegetable and fruit seeds from America, so the citizens were empowered to grow their own food and have their own gardens, even if all they had was a small pot to plant in.
When it comes to independence and ministry, nothing is ever too little.
Back in America, a woman named Doris Akers became the minister of music at the church in Minneapolis.
Doris was a well-known gospel recording artist and composer of many songs, including “There’s a Sweet, Sweet Spirit.”
When Miss Akers died in 1995, she left all the copyright royalties to the mission in Haiti. This allowed them to buy land and build new properties.
The land purchased thanks to the song royalties was hilly and full of rocks, but no problem, because they used the rocks to help build a sturdy high school, and a three-story hospital.
Because of their location, they survived the 2010 earthquake and recent storms.
Because of the vegetable and fruit seed ministry, the people had food to eat even though others were starving.
Now the mission in Haiti has grown to include caring for those left homeless and orphaned after the hurricanes.
All of this is to say that whenever we, or any church sings songs by Doris Akers, such as “Sweet, Sweet Spirit,” things are sweet indeed, because the proceeds from the copyright are going to Haiti where orphaned children are cared for, expectant mothers receive medical attention, teenagers gain wisdom, the sick receive treatment, and the elderly are honored.
This all goes to show that nothing is too small when it is done for the Lord, and even singing a song in an inland city like Sebring can reach out to the rocky mountaintops of a Caribbean island.
Yes- there is a sweet, sweet spirit when people gather to worship and honor the Lord, creator of all that is good, giver of life, and breath, and beauty.
It is a sweetness that is like a river of honey- a river of light and love that flows through the sanctuary, from person to person, aisle to aisle.
A sweet river of honey that creates swirls of peace, fountains of joy, and connects us to the great ocean of life.
A sweet river of honey that becomes like a balm to the wounded and sick, a balm to the discouraged and sin-soaked.
Yes- there is a sweet, sweet spirit in this place…
Unfortunately, places of worship may not always be so sweet. People come from different directions, different experiences, and different expectations.
And sometimes they bring with them a spirit that may not be so sweet, or peaceful, or full of light.
Places of worship can be locations in which a spirit may be destructive, scary, or divisive.
That’s what we encounter in today’s reading.
Right after Jesus invited Simon and Andrew, James and John to follow him, he makes his way to the synagogue in which he teaches.
A man enters with an unclean spirit.
This is not a sweet, sweet spirit, but one of inquisition that immediately interferes, making the man shout out “What have you to do with us?”
A spirit of fear causes the man to ask “Have you come to destroy us?”
But Jesus replies in words of authority- “Be silent, and come out of him.”
In a fit of convulsions and crying, the unclean spirit comes out of the man, amazing all who were there.
What do we make of this story? Is it real? True? How common were such things?
That’s a topic best left for bible study; for today let us focus on one tiny detail about what the spirit was called.
It certainly was not called sweet.
Nor was it called evil, or demonic.
The author calls the spirit “unclean”.
Unclean. What does it mean?
Well, this was a story written about a particular culture during a particular time, and it was a culture of honor and shame, in and out, clean and dirty.
People were judged by if they were seen as clean or unclean.
Who you ate with and where you sat depended on if you were clean or unclean.
Your ability to participate in community events depended on if you were clean or unclean.
Your ability to enter into a house of prayer and participate in worship depended if you were clean or unclean.
In other words- if you were clean, great!
You got to be part of the group, attend potlucks, go to mahjong tournaments, sing in the choir, and get a bulletin.
If you weren’t clean- tough luck.
You were stuck with TV dinners for one, playing solitaire by yourself, singing in the shower, and reading the sermon via the internet.
To be clean meant you were “in” and able to reap the benefits of relationships.
To be unclean meant you were “out” and not allowed to play in any reindeer games.
So what makes one unclean?
There were a multitude of things- eating unlimited crab legs at Red Lobster, wearing a shirt that was a cotton/polyester blend, or having mildew in your home.
To be unclean meant you were separate from, and not a part of the group.
That’s part of what is going on in this story.
This man has a spirit that is unclean, a spirit that separates him from others, preventing him to being part of the community.
Think about how this plays out today.
Think of how we act when we see someone who seems to act a little different, or who we sense is a little off.
You can see the distance that people create with that person. They may back up a bit, or turn their back, or pretend they do not see them.
Someone may clutch their bag a bit tighter, or weaponize their keys, or begin gossipy small talk that makes it feel like 7th grade cafeteria all over again.
But notice what Jesus does in this story. He does not immediately exclude the man. He finds a way to welcome the man, and a way to address the spirit.
When the unclean spirit begins to rage and disrupt the congregation, Jesus deals with it by addressing it head on, addressing the demon through words of peace and action-based authority.
Jesus does not excuse. He does not ignore.
Jesus addresses the issue at the hand, allowing the man a chance to be clean.
But more than that, by becoming clean, the man is now empowered to become an active part of the community again.
Now that the unclean spirit is gone, the man is able to check out Checkers with his friends, he can go on golf outings with the guys, and he is free to come to worship with his family and sit in any pew he may please.
In other words, Jesus doesn’t just give the man a sweet, sweet spirit, but Jesus has gives him a new lease on life and a chance to sit at the table with everyone else and enjoy God’s generous banquet.
Jesus meets a man who is in a whirlpool of torment and ushers him into a river of inclusion.
And Jesus transforms him into someone who is more him than he ever was before.
In conclusion, Jesus comes into our lives and not only has the ability to call us to follow, or place a tingle in our ears,
but Jesus also has the ability to bring about the changes that cast out what separates and sours us from others.
Jesus enters our lives with the authority to empower us, speak words of wellness that bring us further into the fold, and to make us more us than us.
Jesus is like a sweet, sweet river of honey that makes us say it is well with our soul.
For that, we can say amen and amen.
A UCC Pastor's walk through the spiritual waters of Scripture, pop culture and life.
Tuesday, January 30, 2018
Saturday, January 20, 2018
Sermon for Jan 21, 2018; Mark 1:14-20
Rev. George Miller
January 21, 2018
Mark 1:14-20
(This is a character sermon in 4 parts)
Simon:
I remember the day I answered the call to follow Jesus. I was on the sea.
I love the sea.
The waves. The sounds. The feel of the sun against your skin.
I love how the sea is always changing, never the same. It’s rough, it’s calm, it roars, it ripples.
Casting your net into the great unknown, discovering the treasures you’ll pull up- fish of all shapes and sizes.
Getting your hands dirty, coming home smelling like the water.
Ahhh…..paradise.
So when Jesus came along and invited me and my brother Andrew to leave all this behind, I struggled.
He was asking me to do the hardest thing I could think of- to leave behind what I love the most.
To leave behind the water and to enter the world of the land, to work with people and forget about the fish, the seagulls, and the shells along the shore.
The decision to follow Jesus was not an easy thing for me to do. It was a true sacrifice, and a change in my life.
But here’s the thing- by following Jesus I have become more me than me.
I am happy.
And this is what I discovered- the thing I was so afraid of losing is still there.
Not every day, but in a new way, and with new meaning.
For example, that time when Jesus was teaching all day. When evening arrived he invited us to take a boat to the other side.
A great storm arose and though we were so deathly afraid, Jesus rebuked the wind and he said to the sea “Peace! Be still.”
The winds stopped, the waters listened, and we made it to the other side…
I hold that memory very dear, and will always remember the day I decided to follow Jesus.
Andrew:
I remember the day I answered the call to follow Jesus. I was on the sea.
I hate the sea.
The waves. The sounds. The feel of the sun against your skin.
I hate how the sea is always changing, never the same. It’s rough, it’s calm, it roars, it ripples.
Casting your net into the great unknown, not knowing what you’ll get, if you’ll get anything at all.
Getting your hands dirty, coming home smelling like the water.
Ick…..hell.
So when Jesus came along and invited me and my brother Simon to leave all this behind, I said “Heck yeah!”
He was asking me to do the easiest thing I could think of- to leave behind what I hate the most.
What do I like? I love being one with the land. Put me in the woods.
Woods don’t change- you got trees, you got rocks, you got dirt.
Give me a bow and arrow, and I’m as happy as can be-
Listening to the songs of the birds, the wind through the leaves, that hush when a deer comes by, just you and that buck, eye to eye.
To leave the behind the water and be on dry land, to work with people and forget about the fish, the seagulls, and the shells along the shore-
The decision to follow Jesus was such an easy thing for me to do. It was no sacrifice at all.
But here’s the thing- by following Jesus I have become more me than me.
I am happy. Content.
And this is what I discovered- the thing I most hated is not so bad after all.
Now that I’m not on the sea every day, I can appreciate it in a new way.
For example, that time when Jesus was teaching. He was beside the sea and this huge crowd of folk gathered.
From where I stood, I could see with new eyes the way the water rolled upon the shore. How the waves created the perfect accompaniment to his words about sowing seeds and lamps under a bushel.
When evening arrived, and the sun began to set, the orange, pink and yellows that filled the sky, behind his head, giving Jesus a halo.
How he taught that the kingdom of God is like a mustard seed which puts forth great branches and becomes a place for all the birds of the air...
I hold that memory very dear, and will always remember the day I decided to follow Jesus.
James:
I remember the day I answered the call to follow Jesus. I was on the sea.
Mending our nets. Well, not our nets, but our father’s nets.
My father is Zebedee and he owns a fishing business and I’m the oldest son.
I despise what I do.
As the oldest son, I’m expected to follow in my father’s footsteps and take over the family business when he’s gone, regardless if I want to or not.
I don’t want to.
I hate fishing. I hate the nets.
Casting your net into the great unknown, pulling up all kinds of fish, then having to fix and mend the nets because God forbid Dad spends any money on buying new ones.
My Dad is old skool and is all about tradition.
But I don’t care about tradition. I want to do something new. I want to do something exciting. I want to see the world and go on adventures
I want to do something in which I am more than Zebedee’s son or John’s older brother.
I hate taking instruction from my Dad and being expected to watch over my baby brother.
So when Jesus came along and asked me and my brother John to leave all this behind, I was surprised- someone was finally asking me what I wanted to do.
I was being given a choice. I could say yes, I could say no.
The decision to follow Jesus was an empowering thing for me to do. It meant taking control of my identity, and a change in my life.
By following Jesus I have become more me than me.
I am happy. Content. Active.
And this is what I discovered- I can work with my brother without being in charge of my brother.
For example, that time Jesus instructed us to go out into the villages teaching, two by two.
We were to bring nothing for the journey- no bag, no bread, no dollar bills.
Just two of us, going on adventures, town to town, meeting new folks, having new experiences, and telling them about the goodness of God.
I chose John to go with me, not because I had to, but because I wanted to.
I enjoyed getting to know him in a different way, working alongside one another, doing something new.
It was no longer about tradition, or the family business or first born/second born.
It was about being peers.
I remember the first house we entered in which John took the lead, and I could stand back and observe…
I hold that memory very dear, and will always remember the day I decided to follow Jesus.
John:
I remember the day I answered the call to follow Jesus. I was on the sea.
Mending our nets. Well, not our nets, but our father’s nets.
My father is Zebedee and he owns a fishing business and I’m the younger son.
I actually kind of like what I do; I like working with my brother and my Dad.
Here’s what I don’t like- being expected to be so serious all the time. Like catching fish and mending nets is that hard.
As the younger son, I’m not expected to follow in my father’s footsteps and take over the family business when he’s gone, regardless if I want to or not.
To tell you the truth, I wouldn’t mind taking over the family business if Dad allowed me to.
I like fishing. I don’t mind the nets.
Casting your net into the great unknown, pulling up all kinds of fish.
But do we have to fix them all the time? Like, can’t Dad spend some money on buying new ones?
Does everything have to be about work, work, work, work, work?
Know what else I don’t like?
Taking orders from my older brother James.
I like him, he’s cool. But just because he’s older than me doesn’t mean he’s smarter, or better, or my boss.
But that’s how it is. When Dad’s not telling me what to do, James is.
And it’s annoying.
Do this. Don’t do that.
Be serious. Don’t go so slow.
I want to do something in which I am more than Zebedee’s son or James’ kid brother.
So when Jesus came along and asked me and James to leave all this behind, I was like “Finally! -Someone who thinks I have a brain in my head!”
The decision to follow Jesus was a cool thing to do.
Sure, I felt bad leaving Dad behind with the help, and I was worried I’d still be stuck in my brother’s shadow.
But hey- it sounded fun.
By following Jesus I have become more me than me.
I am happy. Content. Active. Equal.
And this is what I discovered- my brother and I are actually a good team.
For example, there was that time Jesus instructed us to go out into the villages teaching, two by two.
I chose James to go with me, not because I had to, but because I wanted to.
Then there was that time we decided to work together as a team, and we approached Jesus, together, and asked that he do something for us.
We asked that we could sit with Jesus in his glory, one on his right hand, one on his left.
Jesus didn’t give us the answer we wanted, but it felt so good to work as one, and even when the other disciples got mad at us, my brother and I stayed unified, like true partners.
It was no longer about family business or first born/second born, but my brother and I as one...
I hold that memory very dear, and will always remember the day I decided to follow Jesus.
…and what about you?
Have you decided to follow Jesus?
Do you remember the day you answered the call?
Were you happy or sad, angry or glad?
Were you casting or mending, working or fixing?
Comfortable in your identity or wondering who you were?
What are the things you have given up? What are the things you have discovered?
If you were standing up here today, what would you say?
Amen and amen.
January 21, 2018
Mark 1:14-20
(This is a character sermon in 4 parts)
Simon:
I remember the day I answered the call to follow Jesus. I was on the sea.
I love the sea.
The waves. The sounds. The feel of the sun against your skin.
I love how the sea is always changing, never the same. It’s rough, it’s calm, it roars, it ripples.
Casting your net into the great unknown, discovering the treasures you’ll pull up- fish of all shapes and sizes.
Getting your hands dirty, coming home smelling like the water.
Ahhh…..paradise.
So when Jesus came along and invited me and my brother Andrew to leave all this behind, I struggled.
He was asking me to do the hardest thing I could think of- to leave behind what I love the most.
To leave behind the water and to enter the world of the land, to work with people and forget about the fish, the seagulls, and the shells along the shore.
The decision to follow Jesus was not an easy thing for me to do. It was a true sacrifice, and a change in my life.
But here’s the thing- by following Jesus I have become more me than me.
I am happy.
And this is what I discovered- the thing I was so afraid of losing is still there.
Not every day, but in a new way, and with new meaning.
For example, that time when Jesus was teaching all day. When evening arrived he invited us to take a boat to the other side.
A great storm arose and though we were so deathly afraid, Jesus rebuked the wind and he said to the sea “Peace! Be still.”
The winds stopped, the waters listened, and we made it to the other side…
I hold that memory very dear, and will always remember the day I decided to follow Jesus.
Andrew:
I remember the day I answered the call to follow Jesus. I was on the sea.
I hate the sea.
The waves. The sounds. The feel of the sun against your skin.
I hate how the sea is always changing, never the same. It’s rough, it’s calm, it roars, it ripples.
Casting your net into the great unknown, not knowing what you’ll get, if you’ll get anything at all.
Getting your hands dirty, coming home smelling like the water.
Ick…..hell.
So when Jesus came along and invited me and my brother Simon to leave all this behind, I said “Heck yeah!”
He was asking me to do the easiest thing I could think of- to leave behind what I hate the most.
What do I like? I love being one with the land. Put me in the woods.
Woods don’t change- you got trees, you got rocks, you got dirt.
Give me a bow and arrow, and I’m as happy as can be-
Listening to the songs of the birds, the wind through the leaves, that hush when a deer comes by, just you and that buck, eye to eye.
To leave the behind the water and be on dry land, to work with people and forget about the fish, the seagulls, and the shells along the shore-
The decision to follow Jesus was such an easy thing for me to do. It was no sacrifice at all.
But here’s the thing- by following Jesus I have become more me than me.
I am happy. Content.
And this is what I discovered- the thing I most hated is not so bad after all.
Now that I’m not on the sea every day, I can appreciate it in a new way.
For example, that time when Jesus was teaching. He was beside the sea and this huge crowd of folk gathered.
From where I stood, I could see with new eyes the way the water rolled upon the shore. How the waves created the perfect accompaniment to his words about sowing seeds and lamps under a bushel.
When evening arrived, and the sun began to set, the orange, pink and yellows that filled the sky, behind his head, giving Jesus a halo.
How he taught that the kingdom of God is like a mustard seed which puts forth great branches and becomes a place for all the birds of the air...
I hold that memory very dear, and will always remember the day I decided to follow Jesus.
James:
I remember the day I answered the call to follow Jesus. I was on the sea.
Mending our nets. Well, not our nets, but our father’s nets.
My father is Zebedee and he owns a fishing business and I’m the oldest son.
I despise what I do.
As the oldest son, I’m expected to follow in my father’s footsteps and take over the family business when he’s gone, regardless if I want to or not.
I don’t want to.
I hate fishing. I hate the nets.
Casting your net into the great unknown, pulling up all kinds of fish, then having to fix and mend the nets because God forbid Dad spends any money on buying new ones.
My Dad is old skool and is all about tradition.
But I don’t care about tradition. I want to do something new. I want to do something exciting. I want to see the world and go on adventures
I want to do something in which I am more than Zebedee’s son or John’s older brother.
I hate taking instruction from my Dad and being expected to watch over my baby brother.
So when Jesus came along and asked me and my brother John to leave all this behind, I was surprised- someone was finally asking me what I wanted to do.
I was being given a choice. I could say yes, I could say no.
The decision to follow Jesus was an empowering thing for me to do. It meant taking control of my identity, and a change in my life.
By following Jesus I have become more me than me.
I am happy. Content. Active.
And this is what I discovered- I can work with my brother without being in charge of my brother.
For example, that time Jesus instructed us to go out into the villages teaching, two by two.
We were to bring nothing for the journey- no bag, no bread, no dollar bills.
Just two of us, going on adventures, town to town, meeting new folks, having new experiences, and telling them about the goodness of God.
I chose John to go with me, not because I had to, but because I wanted to.
I enjoyed getting to know him in a different way, working alongside one another, doing something new.
It was no longer about tradition, or the family business or first born/second born.
It was about being peers.
I remember the first house we entered in which John took the lead, and I could stand back and observe…
I hold that memory very dear, and will always remember the day I decided to follow Jesus.
John:
I remember the day I answered the call to follow Jesus. I was on the sea.
Mending our nets. Well, not our nets, but our father’s nets.
My father is Zebedee and he owns a fishing business and I’m the younger son.
I actually kind of like what I do; I like working with my brother and my Dad.
Here’s what I don’t like- being expected to be so serious all the time. Like catching fish and mending nets is that hard.
As the younger son, I’m not expected to follow in my father’s footsteps and take over the family business when he’s gone, regardless if I want to or not.
To tell you the truth, I wouldn’t mind taking over the family business if Dad allowed me to.
I like fishing. I don’t mind the nets.
Casting your net into the great unknown, pulling up all kinds of fish.
But do we have to fix them all the time? Like, can’t Dad spend some money on buying new ones?
Does everything have to be about work, work, work, work, work?
Know what else I don’t like?
Taking orders from my older brother James.
I like him, he’s cool. But just because he’s older than me doesn’t mean he’s smarter, or better, or my boss.
But that’s how it is. When Dad’s not telling me what to do, James is.
And it’s annoying.
Do this. Don’t do that.
Be serious. Don’t go so slow.
I want to do something in which I am more than Zebedee’s son or James’ kid brother.
So when Jesus came along and asked me and James to leave all this behind, I was like “Finally! -Someone who thinks I have a brain in my head!”
The decision to follow Jesus was a cool thing to do.
Sure, I felt bad leaving Dad behind with the help, and I was worried I’d still be stuck in my brother’s shadow.
But hey- it sounded fun.
By following Jesus I have become more me than me.
I am happy. Content. Active. Equal.
And this is what I discovered- my brother and I are actually a good team.
For example, there was that time Jesus instructed us to go out into the villages teaching, two by two.
I chose James to go with me, not because I had to, but because I wanted to.
Then there was that time we decided to work together as a team, and we approached Jesus, together, and asked that he do something for us.
We asked that we could sit with Jesus in his glory, one on his right hand, one on his left.
Jesus didn’t give us the answer we wanted, but it felt so good to work as one, and even when the other disciples got mad at us, my brother and I stayed unified, like true partners.
It was no longer about family business or first born/second born, but my brother and I as one...
I hold that memory very dear, and will always remember the day I decided to follow Jesus.
…and what about you?
Have you decided to follow Jesus?
Do you remember the day you answered the call?
Were you happy or sad, angry or glad?
Were you casting or mending, working or fixing?
Comfortable in your identity or wondering who you were?
What are the things you have given up? What are the things you have discovered?
If you were standing up here today, what would you say?
Amen and amen.
Saturday, January 13, 2018
HOPE Even When the Heart Hurts; Jan 14, 2018 sermon on 1 Samuel 3:1-11
Rev. George Miller
Jan 14, 2018
1 Samuel 3:1-11
This is one of the hardest sermons I’ve ever written. Last Sunday I began planning a light-hearted character-based message to carry on the feeling of good will from last week’s wonderful worship service.
Then Thursday happened-
It was reported that President Trump, during a meeting with lawmakers, referred to the entire continent of Africa, as well as the nations of El Salvador, Guatemala, and Haiti, as cesspool countries.
And my heart broke.
It’s been broken ever since.
I have too many friends of African descent, love too many people from these countries to not feel as if they have been personally hurt.
If the reporting of this statement is true, and if it was truly stated, then…
…What is a pastor to do?
To not acknowledge it in a pastoral manner means I am complicit or in agreement with the spirit of the statement.
To acknowledge it and challenge it head on in a pastoral manner means the possibility of rubbing people the wrong way.
There are those who believe all manner of politics should be left out of church.
But today, today we are not talking about policies, or programs, or who to vote for, but to admit, before God, that we all heard with our own ears, and read with our own eyes what our nation’s president supposedly said in regards to
1 billion, two hundred and 48 million people, not counting those who call these nations their ancestral home.
It’s supposedly been said, it’s been reported, so what do we do?
We could talk about how almost all of us have ancestors who came from places that were once deemed to be cesspool countries.
We could talk about how no one is perfect and how we have all said and done things that were hurtful and could’ve been damaging if someone else shared them.
We could talk about the reality that there are nations filled with people living in less than choice conditions and what does Christ call us to do.
This morning, we will turn to our scripture, realizing how timely this story actually is, as it deals head on with the very themes of hearing and seeing.
It’s about 3,050 years ago and it is turbulent times for the nation of Israel.
They have been struggling so much as a people. They’ve lost sight of who they are. Morale is low; frustrations are high.
Their main place of worship hasn’t been helping the matter.
Eli, the chief priest, has lost his zeal for ministry. He’s become more worried about the whos and whats of ministry as opposed to the whys of what he’s called to do.
Eli’s sons are also priests, but they have become the most corrupt group of men you can meet.
They steal the best parts of the sacrifices. They threaten people to increase their offerings.
They are having sex with women right in the doorway to the sanctuary.
Eli is complicit in all of this. He knows his sons are scoundrels. He has heard about their antics but he fails to stop them and eventually turns a blind eye.
No wonder we are told that the word of the Lord was rare; no wonder people were barely able to dream dreams.
But…there was HOPE, as there is always hope when one is worshipping the God of New Beginnings.
Turns out that Eli has an apprentice-a young boy named Samuel, a child conceived against all odds who was generously offered by his mother to be a servant to the Lord.
What happens next no one could have expected.
In the dark of night, as the light of God barely burns, the Lord calls Sleepy Samuel 3x, and 3x Sleepy Samuel goes to Eli, assuming it is him.
In the dead of night, as the light of God barely burns, Eli, the supposed spiritual leader of the nation, proves to be so blind and so spiritually deaf, that he fails to realize God is STILL SPEAKING and capable of calling out to this child.
Finally, Eli realizes what’s going on and gives Samuel the proper guidance of what to say.
So the next time God speaks to Sleepy Samuel, and stands right over the boy’s body, Sleepy Samuel with strength and wisdom beyond his years says “Speak, for your servant is listening.”
And God of Creation, Liberation, and THE Resurrection, says “See- I am about to do a new thing that will make all ya’ll ears tingle!”
And with that, new hope enters into the nation of Israel and the people of God…
This deeply spiritual scripture is about so many things:
-The dangers of turning your eyes from current realities so much so that you literally become blind to what’s around you.
-The sad soullessness of a nation that occurs when corruption and abuse from leadership is allowed.
BUT- today’s scripture is also about HOPE. Hope that brings about new beginnings and goes beyond popular expectations.
Yes- Eli has done a horrible job as head priest.
Yes- Eli’s children have abused their power by taking from the common person and having illicit affairs.
Yes- it appears as if the word of God is rare, dreams are rare, compassion is rare, but God is not completely absent, God is not at all defeated, and God is most certainly not gone.
As verse 3 states- when today’s story begins, the lamp of God had not yet gone out.
Some will interpret verse 3 literally, seeing this as a temporal reference to fixed time on a clock.
But others see verse 3 as a metaphor, a symbol, a poetic way of saying that the light of God has not been fully extinguished.
Though the nation seems to be in darkness, though the leaders were blind to corruption, though the house of worship was no longer just, kind, or humble, God-
Well God still shone.
Though the eyes of those who should have seen were dim, God’s light still burned on.
Though the ears of those who should have known what they were hearing appeared confused, God’s light still burned on.
Though darkness covered the land and unjust ways seemed to prevail, God’s light still burned on.
Though dreamers seemed non-existent and dreams were few or forgotten, God’s light still burned on.
Though every sign pointed to things coming to a very, very sad end, God’s light still burned on.
In what seemed to be a certain dead end, God found a way, once again, to create a new beginning and speak words that could change creation, this time through a child called Samuel.
Today’s scripture begins in a place of despair, but brings us to hope.
Hope for the individual.
Hope for the community.
Hope for the world.
Hope for all of creation.
Hope ablaze with the reality that GOD STILL SPEAKS.
Hope ablaze with the reality that even in darkness, God’s light still burns.
Hope ablaze with the reality that even as our eyes grown dim and our ears lose their ability to hear,
there is always someone, somewhere, who will be able to listen, willing to hear, able to speak, and willing to see.
Hope ablaze with the reality that any of us, at any time, can be a means which God’s message is acquired, and God’s message is discerned.
In conclusion, my heart still hurts, and will hurt, over the supposed comments attributed to our President.
But I know that the word of God is more powerful than anything one person can say.
My heart still hurts, and will hurt, for the nations who have been made to feel “less than”, but I know that the compassionate love of God is large enough to comfort all.
My heart still hearts, and will hurt, because it seems like dreams are being drowned.
But my heart swims with delight knowing that the light of God can never be put out, will never go away.
And that God will always call the faithful who are willing to see and ready to hear.
Amen and amen.
Jan 14, 2018
1 Samuel 3:1-11
This is one of the hardest sermons I’ve ever written. Last Sunday I began planning a light-hearted character-based message to carry on the feeling of good will from last week’s wonderful worship service.
Then Thursday happened-
It was reported that President Trump, during a meeting with lawmakers, referred to the entire continent of Africa, as well as the nations of El Salvador, Guatemala, and Haiti, as cesspool countries.
And my heart broke.
It’s been broken ever since.
I have too many friends of African descent, love too many people from these countries to not feel as if they have been personally hurt.
If the reporting of this statement is true, and if it was truly stated, then…
…What is a pastor to do?
To not acknowledge it in a pastoral manner means I am complicit or in agreement with the spirit of the statement.
To acknowledge it and challenge it head on in a pastoral manner means the possibility of rubbing people the wrong way.
There are those who believe all manner of politics should be left out of church.
But today, today we are not talking about policies, or programs, or who to vote for, but to admit, before God, that we all heard with our own ears, and read with our own eyes what our nation’s president supposedly said in regards to
1 billion, two hundred and 48 million people, not counting those who call these nations their ancestral home.
It’s supposedly been said, it’s been reported, so what do we do?
We could talk about how almost all of us have ancestors who came from places that were once deemed to be cesspool countries.
We could talk about how no one is perfect and how we have all said and done things that were hurtful and could’ve been damaging if someone else shared them.
We could talk about the reality that there are nations filled with people living in less than choice conditions and what does Christ call us to do.
This morning, we will turn to our scripture, realizing how timely this story actually is, as it deals head on with the very themes of hearing and seeing.
It’s about 3,050 years ago and it is turbulent times for the nation of Israel.
They have been struggling so much as a people. They’ve lost sight of who they are. Morale is low; frustrations are high.
Their main place of worship hasn’t been helping the matter.
Eli, the chief priest, has lost his zeal for ministry. He’s become more worried about the whos and whats of ministry as opposed to the whys of what he’s called to do.
Eli’s sons are also priests, but they have become the most corrupt group of men you can meet.
They steal the best parts of the sacrifices. They threaten people to increase their offerings.
They are having sex with women right in the doorway to the sanctuary.
Eli is complicit in all of this. He knows his sons are scoundrels. He has heard about their antics but he fails to stop them and eventually turns a blind eye.
No wonder we are told that the word of the Lord was rare; no wonder people were barely able to dream dreams.
But…there was HOPE, as there is always hope when one is worshipping the God of New Beginnings.
Turns out that Eli has an apprentice-a young boy named Samuel, a child conceived against all odds who was generously offered by his mother to be a servant to the Lord.
What happens next no one could have expected.
In the dark of night, as the light of God barely burns, the Lord calls Sleepy Samuel 3x, and 3x Sleepy Samuel goes to Eli, assuming it is him.
In the dead of night, as the light of God barely burns, Eli, the supposed spiritual leader of the nation, proves to be so blind and so spiritually deaf, that he fails to realize God is STILL SPEAKING and capable of calling out to this child.
Finally, Eli realizes what’s going on and gives Samuel the proper guidance of what to say.
So the next time God speaks to Sleepy Samuel, and stands right over the boy’s body, Sleepy Samuel with strength and wisdom beyond his years says “Speak, for your servant is listening.”
And God of Creation, Liberation, and THE Resurrection, says “See- I am about to do a new thing that will make all ya’ll ears tingle!”
And with that, new hope enters into the nation of Israel and the people of God…
This deeply spiritual scripture is about so many things:
-The dangers of turning your eyes from current realities so much so that you literally become blind to what’s around you.
-The sad soullessness of a nation that occurs when corruption and abuse from leadership is allowed.
BUT- today’s scripture is also about HOPE. Hope that brings about new beginnings and goes beyond popular expectations.
Yes- Eli has done a horrible job as head priest.
Yes- Eli’s children have abused their power by taking from the common person and having illicit affairs.
Yes- it appears as if the word of God is rare, dreams are rare, compassion is rare, but God is not completely absent, God is not at all defeated, and God is most certainly not gone.
As verse 3 states- when today’s story begins, the lamp of God had not yet gone out.
Some will interpret verse 3 literally, seeing this as a temporal reference to fixed time on a clock.
But others see verse 3 as a metaphor, a symbol, a poetic way of saying that the light of God has not been fully extinguished.
Though the nation seems to be in darkness, though the leaders were blind to corruption, though the house of worship was no longer just, kind, or humble, God-
Well God still shone.
Though the eyes of those who should have seen were dim, God’s light still burned on.
Though the ears of those who should have known what they were hearing appeared confused, God’s light still burned on.
Though darkness covered the land and unjust ways seemed to prevail, God’s light still burned on.
Though dreamers seemed non-existent and dreams were few or forgotten, God’s light still burned on.
Though every sign pointed to things coming to a very, very sad end, God’s light still burned on.
In what seemed to be a certain dead end, God found a way, once again, to create a new beginning and speak words that could change creation, this time through a child called Samuel.
Today’s scripture begins in a place of despair, but brings us to hope.
Hope for the individual.
Hope for the community.
Hope for the world.
Hope for all of creation.
Hope ablaze with the reality that GOD STILL SPEAKS.
Hope ablaze with the reality that even in darkness, God’s light still burns.
Hope ablaze with the reality that even as our eyes grown dim and our ears lose their ability to hear,
there is always someone, somewhere, who will be able to listen, willing to hear, able to speak, and willing to see.
Hope ablaze with the reality that any of us, at any time, can be a means which God’s message is acquired, and God’s message is discerned.
In conclusion, my heart still hurts, and will hurt, over the supposed comments attributed to our President.
But I know that the word of God is more powerful than anything one person can say.
My heart still hurts, and will hurt, for the nations who have been made to feel “less than”, but I know that the compassionate love of God is large enough to comfort all.
My heart still hearts, and will hurt, because it seems like dreams are being drowned.
But my heart swims with delight knowing that the light of God can never be put out, will never go away.
And that God will always call the faithful who are willing to see and ready to hear.
Amen and amen.
Saturday, January 6, 2018
Ending/Beginnings; Jan 7, 2018 sermon on Genesis 1:1-5
Rev. George Miller
Jan 7, 2018
Genesis 1:1-5
This holiday season was a pleasing one. Phenomenal Christmas Eve worship thanks to our musicians, singers, and worship leaders.
Time with family, friends, plenty of activities to do, and thankfully, plenty of down-time with weather that said “Stay in, chill out, and relax.”
A highlight was having my ‘Lil Brother Cornelius in town. We’ve known each other since he was 9 years old and able to sit on my shoulders.
Well, Cornelius is now 14. His voice is deeper, his legs are hairy, he walks around with headphones connected to an IPad, and he has the funk of a teenager who’s going through hormonal changes.
One day we went to Disney Springs. Of course, I dragged him to the Christmas Shop to get an ornament, then to another cartoon themed store; then to the main Disney store.
We walked into this large expansive building filled with room after room of Disney stuff, and I had an “a-ha” moment.
First, was the realization that I was making Cornelius go with me so I could recapture fleeting memories from my childhood.
Second, was the realization that Cornelius is no longer a child.
He is no longer 9 years old, with a peanut shaped head, able to sit on my shoulders and be carried around all day.
Cornelius went on ahead of me as I stopped in my tracks, having that moment all parents have when they realize their child is no longer a child.
I literally felt like I was in a movie, standing still in the middle of the store, as people passed by…
…10 minutes later Cornelius returned, saying “Next time I come here I’m gonna bring money so I can buy a sweater.”
We left the store and continued walking around.
It felt different.
It was different.
We went to another store, with more high-end, adult items. Inspiration hit:
“Tell you what- let’s get you one of those sweaters as a Christmas present.”
Cornelius found just what he wanted- a grey sweater with a classic Mickey Mouse.
We left the store, and feeling the need to sit, I went to the brick island in the middle of the pathway, and sat down, processing this new reality.
And that’s when it happened-
Cornelius took off his blue headphones and placed them over my ears so I could hear one of his favorite songs.
For the second time, time stood still.
He took the tags off the sweater and put it on, and I sat on the brick island, quietly listening to his music, as families once again passed by.
I completely understood this gesture- as an act of gratitude, Cornelius was now sharing something that mattered to him.
And like most14 year olds, music is often the most deeply meaningful.
Tears of many meanings filled my eyes, as Cornelius sat down next to me, and the song started over on repeat.
Earlier I was mourning the end of Cornelius as a child, but now, now I was experiencing the beginning of what a relationship with Cornelius, the teenager, would be like.
Like any teenager, Cornelius is now different, and yet the same; the same and yet very very different. So therefore our relationship will change, evolving out of what was in the past…
New beginnings are very much the theme of today’s Scripture.
The author tells us through poetry how the world began, how God’s relationship with humanity got its start.
But the story is not as simple and straightforward as some may think.
For the author states “In the beginning, when God created the heavens and earth, the earth was a formless void and darkness covered the face of the deep, while God’s breathe swept over the face of the waters.”
Wait.
There were waters? There was undifferentiated mass? There was already something mysterious there?
How can that be?
If this is the beginning, how can there already be something in existence?
Where did it come from?
How did it get there?
What does this mean for our faith or claim that God created the world?
Here we have the first mystery of the Bible.
Deep, dark, formless waters that God’s Spirit moves across.
What are they?
Where did they come from?
How did they get there?
Were these waters from something else? Did they come from somewhere before?
Had something else ended, leaving behind these waters so that God could create, once again?
Like a good UCC pastor, I am not going to give you an answer or tell you what to believe, but instead invite you to step in and wade in the questions.
Maybe, maybe this scripture is swimming in the timey-whimey metaphysical, quantum mechanics that says time does not exist, time has no beginning, and no end, and everything that is happening has happened before and everything that has ever happened is happening at the same exact time.
Maybe, maybe this scripture is a submersion in the idea that our God is a God who is all about transformations and re-creations.
Meaning that God can take anything and use it to bring forth new life.
For example, a manger can become the earthly throne of the Messiah.
Meaning that God can take materials that already exist, that may be worn or broken or stained and do something fresh.
For example, how Psalm 51:10 says “Create in me a clean heart…and put a new and right spirit within me.”
Meaning that God can move over something dark and empty to bring fullness and light.
For example, the tomb on Easter morning.
Meaning how God can take the rawest, most basic of things and create from them fresh beginnings.
For example, Communion. Think about what Communion is- the last meal Jesus would share with his friends while in human form, marking the end of his ministry.
To say goodbye to their time together he used bread and juice, every day items made from the most basic of materials-
Grain from the field and fruit from the vine.
And yet, somehow, someway God worked through these most basic of elements to establish something new.
Though Jesus died, in his place the church began.
A meal meant to signal the end becomes a means to a new beginning, allowing us 2,000 years later to continue his ministry, doing his work, sharing his light to an often dark and formless world.
Today’s scripture doesn’t just tell us that God creates, but it is a reminder that God moves, God speaks, God acts, and God is able to take the most mysterious, most basic materials and do something new, something unexpected, and something fantastic.
Today’s scripture is a reminder that as things come to an end, things also start a new beginning; that transformation and acts of re-creation are elemental to just who God is.
In closing, I’d like to share another story about Cornelius.
Two days after Disney Springs, we journeyed together to Fort Pierce. This time, Cornelius was the DJ, sharing the music he liked over the car speakers.
He had a say in the car temperature, adjusting the heat and direction of the vents.
This new Cornelius was actually quite cool. His music included Japanese pop, alternative rap, and 70’s soul.
Our conversation was a bit more advanced. I found myself less guarded and freer with what words I used.
Cornelius was more apt to express his needs, letting me know when it got too cold to be outside, or when the pizza place options did not please him.
…This new, teenage Cornelius creation that was before me…
…and then, as we drove back to Sebring, before we even hit the city limits of Fort Pierce, teenage Cornelius did just what he has always done after an all day excursion-
-he fell fast, fast asleep, his head titled to the right as if he would never, ever wake up again.
It was another moment, a moment that I needed, because although Cornelius is now a full blown teenager, in his sleeping face was still the presence of the peanut headed, shoulder sitting child I thought was gone forever.
Just like we always had for the past 5 years, I drove home in contentment while Cornelius snoozed away.
Things come to an end. Things have a beginning. Often time’s endings and beginnings, beginning and endings are intrinsically connected.
The same, yet different; different, yet the same.
If we look closely, we can see God active in those events, relationships, and experiences.
With this knowledge we can celebrate that in God the future stands genuinely open (Terence Fretheim, The New Interpreter’s Bible, pp354-357) and that God continues even when endings seems imminent.
For that we can say amen and amen.
Jan 7, 2018
Genesis 1:1-5
This holiday season was a pleasing one. Phenomenal Christmas Eve worship thanks to our musicians, singers, and worship leaders.
Time with family, friends, plenty of activities to do, and thankfully, plenty of down-time with weather that said “Stay in, chill out, and relax.”
A highlight was having my ‘Lil Brother Cornelius in town. We’ve known each other since he was 9 years old and able to sit on my shoulders.
Well, Cornelius is now 14. His voice is deeper, his legs are hairy, he walks around with headphones connected to an IPad, and he has the funk of a teenager who’s going through hormonal changes.
One day we went to Disney Springs. Of course, I dragged him to the Christmas Shop to get an ornament, then to another cartoon themed store; then to the main Disney store.
We walked into this large expansive building filled with room after room of Disney stuff, and I had an “a-ha” moment.
First, was the realization that I was making Cornelius go with me so I could recapture fleeting memories from my childhood.
Second, was the realization that Cornelius is no longer a child.
He is no longer 9 years old, with a peanut shaped head, able to sit on my shoulders and be carried around all day.
Cornelius went on ahead of me as I stopped in my tracks, having that moment all parents have when they realize their child is no longer a child.
I literally felt like I was in a movie, standing still in the middle of the store, as people passed by…
…10 minutes later Cornelius returned, saying “Next time I come here I’m gonna bring money so I can buy a sweater.”
We left the store and continued walking around.
It felt different.
It was different.
We went to another store, with more high-end, adult items. Inspiration hit:
“Tell you what- let’s get you one of those sweaters as a Christmas present.”
Cornelius found just what he wanted- a grey sweater with a classic Mickey Mouse.
We left the store, and feeling the need to sit, I went to the brick island in the middle of the pathway, and sat down, processing this new reality.
And that’s when it happened-
Cornelius took off his blue headphones and placed them over my ears so I could hear one of his favorite songs.
For the second time, time stood still.
He took the tags off the sweater and put it on, and I sat on the brick island, quietly listening to his music, as families once again passed by.
I completely understood this gesture- as an act of gratitude, Cornelius was now sharing something that mattered to him.
And like most14 year olds, music is often the most deeply meaningful.
Tears of many meanings filled my eyes, as Cornelius sat down next to me, and the song started over on repeat.
Earlier I was mourning the end of Cornelius as a child, but now, now I was experiencing the beginning of what a relationship with Cornelius, the teenager, would be like.
Like any teenager, Cornelius is now different, and yet the same; the same and yet very very different. So therefore our relationship will change, evolving out of what was in the past…
New beginnings are very much the theme of today’s Scripture.
The author tells us through poetry how the world began, how God’s relationship with humanity got its start.
But the story is not as simple and straightforward as some may think.
For the author states “In the beginning, when God created the heavens and earth, the earth was a formless void and darkness covered the face of the deep, while God’s breathe swept over the face of the waters.”
Wait.
There were waters? There was undifferentiated mass? There was already something mysterious there?
How can that be?
If this is the beginning, how can there already be something in existence?
Where did it come from?
How did it get there?
What does this mean for our faith or claim that God created the world?
Here we have the first mystery of the Bible.
Deep, dark, formless waters that God’s Spirit moves across.
What are they?
Where did they come from?
How did they get there?
Were these waters from something else? Did they come from somewhere before?
Had something else ended, leaving behind these waters so that God could create, once again?
Like a good UCC pastor, I am not going to give you an answer or tell you what to believe, but instead invite you to step in and wade in the questions.
Maybe, maybe this scripture is swimming in the timey-whimey metaphysical, quantum mechanics that says time does not exist, time has no beginning, and no end, and everything that is happening has happened before and everything that has ever happened is happening at the same exact time.
Maybe, maybe this scripture is a submersion in the idea that our God is a God who is all about transformations and re-creations.
Meaning that God can take anything and use it to bring forth new life.
For example, a manger can become the earthly throne of the Messiah.
Meaning that God can take materials that already exist, that may be worn or broken or stained and do something fresh.
For example, how Psalm 51:10 says “Create in me a clean heart…and put a new and right spirit within me.”
Meaning that God can move over something dark and empty to bring fullness and light.
For example, the tomb on Easter morning.
Meaning how God can take the rawest, most basic of things and create from them fresh beginnings.
For example, Communion. Think about what Communion is- the last meal Jesus would share with his friends while in human form, marking the end of his ministry.
To say goodbye to their time together he used bread and juice, every day items made from the most basic of materials-
Grain from the field and fruit from the vine.
And yet, somehow, someway God worked through these most basic of elements to establish something new.
Though Jesus died, in his place the church began.
A meal meant to signal the end becomes a means to a new beginning, allowing us 2,000 years later to continue his ministry, doing his work, sharing his light to an often dark and formless world.
Today’s scripture doesn’t just tell us that God creates, but it is a reminder that God moves, God speaks, God acts, and God is able to take the most mysterious, most basic materials and do something new, something unexpected, and something fantastic.
Today’s scripture is a reminder that as things come to an end, things also start a new beginning; that transformation and acts of re-creation are elemental to just who God is.
In closing, I’d like to share another story about Cornelius.
Two days after Disney Springs, we journeyed together to Fort Pierce. This time, Cornelius was the DJ, sharing the music he liked over the car speakers.
He had a say in the car temperature, adjusting the heat and direction of the vents.
This new Cornelius was actually quite cool. His music included Japanese pop, alternative rap, and 70’s soul.
Our conversation was a bit more advanced. I found myself less guarded and freer with what words I used.
Cornelius was more apt to express his needs, letting me know when it got too cold to be outside, or when the pizza place options did not please him.
…This new, teenage Cornelius creation that was before me…
…and then, as we drove back to Sebring, before we even hit the city limits of Fort Pierce, teenage Cornelius did just what he has always done after an all day excursion-
-he fell fast, fast asleep, his head titled to the right as if he would never, ever wake up again.
It was another moment, a moment that I needed, because although Cornelius is now a full blown teenager, in his sleeping face was still the presence of the peanut headed, shoulder sitting child I thought was gone forever.
Just like we always had for the past 5 years, I drove home in contentment while Cornelius snoozed away.
Things come to an end. Things have a beginning. Often time’s endings and beginnings, beginning and endings are intrinsically connected.
The same, yet different; different, yet the same.
If we look closely, we can see God active in those events, relationships, and experiences.
With this knowledge we can celebrate that in God the future stands genuinely open (Terence Fretheim, The New Interpreter’s Bible, pp354-357) and that God continues even when endings seems imminent.
For that we can say amen and amen.
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