A would-be historian turned IT Professional who responded to the call to the Ministry, and is deeply involved in community service and social justice for all. He is the proud father of a daughter and son, and enjoys life with his wife near Boston.
You can follow Pastor Allen on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/PastorAllenV/.
I am puzzled by this: how could “Civil Disobedience” be exercised here? “Civil Disobedience” is the act of deliberately, nonviolently and publicly transgressing a law that prohibits you from exercising rights that others can exercise without a second thought – highlighting the inconsistencies inherent in allowing some people a right that is denied to others. Further, such disobedience is done from a position of powerlessness and humility, allowing the “illegal” act you perform to speak for itself through confronting others with the pain and injustice you personally experience because of that unjust law. The point is never to directly hurt the other, but rather to force them to see the injustice they are participating-in or allowing to happen (and therefore are complicit in inflicting upon you).
Currently, the U.S. Supreme Court is considering whether to widen the legal definition of marriage, so that anyone can marry the person whom they love. We all know and acknowledge this will be hard to accept for some. I think it is right and proper – and compassionate – to be cognizant and understanding of this, even though we do not share their opinion, and are not called to set aside our own expanded sense of what is just and right for the purpose of alleviating that discomfort.
But, what law could those (who oppose such a change) disobey to show how their own liberties are being unjustly limited in this case? Refusing to serve another because they are married to someone of the same sex doesn’t do it – the only person you’d be hurting is yourself (and perhaps those who depend on you) through the resulting loss of income.
Christianity is unique in that it claims that God wants to physically walk with us – a point that comes out very strongly in the Gospel of Luke, in particular. So, it is not just our spirits, but also our bodily existence, that matters greatly to God.
I’d like to begin with this photo. Although my Dad had held our son AJ many times before this, this was the first time that AJ really sought out a snuggle with Grandpa. It was a special moment for them, and for me too: my Father still keeps a framed print of this on his nightstand.
Please join me in prayer…
Lord God, we lift up this morning’s message. May it touch our hearts, may it speak clearly to our souls. You have come to earth to reassure us, comfort us and heal us. You understand the importance of presence and touch. Speak to us now, Lord. Help us to love you in the ways you have wanted us to love you since the beginning, and help us learn how to actively share that love with all whom we encounter. Amen.
Physical touch is such an important thing. In fact, you can find references to physical intimacy (and no, I don’t mean THAT kind of intimacy) all through the Gospels and especially in the Gospel of Luke, beginning with the infant Jesus being held by the elderly Simeon and Anna in the temple in Luke 2, to the woman washing Jesus’ feet and drying them with her hair in Luke 7, to Judas the Betrayer (as a counterexample) hugging and kissing Jesus in Luke 22, and ending with Jesus request that the disciples touch him in this morning’s reading from Luke 24.
As I’m sure you know, research has shown that children who are not cuddled and lovingly held on a frequent basis, starting at birth, do not thrive: they do not develop as fast, and are not as healthy. Even now, at age 5, AJ still reaches for Mommy or Daddy, or his teacher, when he’s distressed. A hug, or even just the touch of a hand, will reassure him, calm him, and help him find stability. And then, once he’s there – he’s off again: playing, tromping in the mud, and climbing on everything!
Good Friday is the day when we hear the first half of this story, where we mourn the death of Christ – and claim him as one of our own. And now, on Easter, we hear the rest of the story, the Divine did not relinquish its claim on Jesus either, but instead raised him from the dead. He is the missing link: we and God both claim him for our own. God has saved us through Christ, just as Jesus told Nicodemus so long ago. Jesus binds us together as members of the Body of Christ, and as children of God. The resurrection is a living reality. But, unless we come to know Christ in the depths of our hearts, unless we take the risk of claiming Christ for our own, the resurrection will never be a living reality for us.
La Descente de Croix – Rubens (1617)
On Easter, we celebrate the heart of our faith, the story of Christ’s death and resurrection. Why is it so important? How does this narrative bridge the gulf between Human Sin and Divine Grace? And, why does this Act of God from two Millennia ago matter to us today?
Let us pray…
Lord God, we lift up this morning’s message. May it touch our hearts, may it speak clearly to our souls. We know that your Word and your love have bridged the huge chasm that separates us from you, and affirmed that all of us are your beloved children. Speak to us now, Lord. Help us to know you in the ways you have wanted us to know you since the beginning. Amen.
Three years ago, I visited the Church of the Holy Sepulcher in Jerusalem, the place at the heart of the events of Easter. As you enter that Church, to your right and up a flight of stairs, is the shrine of the Crucifixion. To the left, what would be behind me and deeper into the church, is the Shrine of the Tomb. So, on one side is the place where our Sin brought about the death of our Savior; and on the other is the spot where he was resurrected by the Grace of God.
Man’s Sin sent Jesus to his death, and God’s Grace brought him back, but what ties the two together?
The answer is in front of you, unavoidable as you enter the Church: the Stone of Unction.
It is a simple stone, unadorned, surrounded by a few lamps, and just long and wide enough for a body. On the wall behind it is a modern mural that depicts the event that took place at this spot, where Joseph of Arimathea and the Pharisee named Nicodemus laid Jesus’ body after taking it down from the Cross.
“Unction” means “anointing,” and it is here on this stone that they washed Jesus’ body, anointed it with oil, and prepared it for burial.
Why is this important? Why did the designers of this Church orient it such that this spot is right in front of you as you enter the church? And, why is the building laid out such that you must pass by it a second time as you go from Calvary to the Tomb? In other words, why does it matter?
Let’s start by imagining what would have happened if Joseph and Nicodemus had not taken Jesus ‘ body down from the Cross.
The Crowd, Pilate, Caiaphas, Judas, and Peter: They all try to do the right thing, and we can see ourselves in them; because they are us in this story.
One central lesson of Palm Sunday is that that no matter how powerful we may be, no matter how well intentioned we are, no matter how wise, or how foolish, or how rich, or how poor, we all constantly make choices that widen the chasm that lies between us and God. We can’t help it, we can’t change it: … it’s part of being human. That is what Sin is: Sin with a Capital “S”; the Sin that has been passed down to us as our share in the brokenness of all existence, the Sin that began with Adam.
How does it feel to be one of them, one of the mob, one of those calling for His death? To turn on him in his hour of need?
How does it feel?
Let us pray…
Lord God, we lift up this morning’s message. May it touch our hearts, may it speak clearly to our souls. We believe your word and your love will rescue us from the depths of our doubt, unbelief, and Sin. Speak to us now, Lord. Help us to know you in the way you have wanted us to know you since the beginning. Amen.
Peter really tried to do the right thing. In the Garden of Gethsemane, he really tried to stay awake while Jesus prayed, but failed. We’ve all been there: like many of you, I have a hard time staying awake for my son after a long day of work, let alone during a sermon. Peter was no different!
But then, when Jesus was arrested, Peter ran away, just like everyone else. He tried again, tried to be there for his friend, the man he knew to be God’s anointed: stumbling along in the dark behind that mob, following their torches to the house of Caiaphas. He then sat in the courtyard, wondering what to do, listening to the voices coming through the window above him, hoping to hear his master speak, hoping that – somehow – Jesus would escape the fate they’d all feared for him. But, Peter also feared for his own safety, fearing he would be recognized as he warmed himself beside that fire.
He did his best, but it was too much for him. When the test came, when that servant girl called him out, he did the only thing he could do: he lied.
And then, when he heard the cock crow the second time, he wept. His failure was complete, his weakness contributed to the death of the man he loved. But Jesus had known this all along, and out of an abundance of compassion and love, had warned Peter this would happen.
We all know how this feels. We’ve all been confronted by situations we could not overcome. How many of us are Peters?
Being faithful isn’t about being skilled or perfect at anything. It’s about showing up. That’s all that God asks us to do – show up, and you’ll find that God is there too: showing us the way, impelling us to speak or act as needs to be done, helping us to learn what we need to learn, and providing the grace for those we encounter to rejoice in our presence and willingness to stand with them, no matter how clumsy we feel we might be.
NYPD Officer Lawrence DePrimo buying boots for a homeless man in Times Square this past November.
During this past Sunday’s “Open and Affirming Forum” at ARK Church our guests related some of their own experiences to help us better understand the pain and alienation that many transsexuals encounter every day, and also provided a great deal of information to help us be more sensitive, compassionate and affirming when dealing with anyone who is “other” – especially those in the LGBTQ communities. Our eyes were opened to the challenges of being someone who doesn’t fit into the neat (and very binary) categories of “male” or “female” or “opposite sex loving” or “same sex loving.” It was a moving, growing (and humbling) experience.
The leader of the forum said something near the end of the meeting that has stuck with me all week: “just show up.”
Slapping a label on someone is a defense mechanism, it distances “the other” from us: making them seem to be “less than” in our minds. Labels can make others seem inconsequential or less than human, and so easier to dismiss, or ignore, or exclude, or oppress – or hate.
Labels hurt.
Lost in My Life (Price Tags) by Rachel Perry Welty (2009) from the permanent collection of the Decordova Museum in Lincoln, MA
Not that this isn’t uncommon; but I’ve recently encountered quite a string of people who, being frustrated with my (admittedly) Progressive views, labeled me with various terms, including: “Anti-Jew”, “Palestinian Lover”, “Left Winger”, “Commie Extremist” (really?), and (my favorite) “sheep scattering GLORY SEEKER!” (A close relative of this is the tendency some have to use phrases that reveal the unspoken labels they’ve applied to you. Some of the most galling of these – for me – are when such phrases are used in a patronizing way, such as: “Your heart’s in a good place.”)
These attempts to make me into something other than I am got me to thinking: I was slapped with a label; then condemned or belittled for being (in their eyes) that label. But, they know almost nothing about me beyond their label. So, they are condemning a label, not me – a phantom that has no reality. There is no reason why I should accept such labels – or any label – as reflecting the “real me”; and in fact they say more about the person who bestowed the label upon me than they do about who I am (or who you are).
We all have a tendency to label people and things – it’s a perfectly natural thing to do. In fact, we are far more likely to do it to someone we don’t know than with someone who is close to us – and I’ll tell you my theory as to why…
Paul tells us in this week’s Lectionary reading from 1 Corinthians that “the message of the Cross is foolishness to those who are perishing.…” And, that “God made foolish the wisdom of the world.”
In other words, foolishness (at least in one’s faith) is a good thing. But, can we have too much of a good thing? Are there boundaries beyond which our foolishness should not go?
God’s Covenant with Abraham has long been understood to reach far beyond the descendants of Isaac to include all humanity – as both he original narrative in Genesis and Paul’s references to it in Romans demonstrate. What we often fail to appreciate is how the narrative in Genesis makes it clear God’s Covenant with Abraham also embraces those whom we reject,and those whom we often do not “see” at all.
Abraham Casting Out Hagar and Ishmael, by Giovanni Francesco Barbieri, 1657
Our readings this morning touch on the story of Ishmael, one of my favorite characters in Hebrew Scripture.
Because we’ll be digging deeply into this story, I thought it would help to provide an overview …
Genesis 12-17: The Three Revelations of God’s Covenant with Abraham
Here we see the three revelations of God’s Covenant to Abraham in the book of Genesis. All three declare that he shall have an heir, and that his descendants will be an uncounted multitude. They all say his descendants will inherit the Promised Land. But, with each revelation, more detail is added; and the duties of each of the Covenant’s participants (meaning God, and Abraham’s family, and us) are more completely spelled out.
We won’t talk much about the first revelation, other than to note that it was ten years before the second one.
You see here that Abram and Sarai’s names are changed to Abraham and Sarah as part of the third revelation. The names of everyone in this story are a metaphor, reflecting the nature of their relationship with us, with each other, and with God. So, name changes are very important – reflecting a change in the person’s relationships and position in the story.
To remain consistent with the narrative, you’ll see me using the old or new version of a person’s name based on where we are in the story.
Genesis 16: Hagar’s Pregnancy and the Birth of Ishmael
We’ll be focusing on what happens between the second and third revelations, as shown here: the time of Ishmael’s birth and early life.
When God speaks for the third time, Abraham laughs and thinks to himself “Can a child be born to a man who is a hundred years old? Can Sarah, who is ninety years old, bear a child?” and then says to God “O that Ishmael might live in your sight!”
Clearly, Abraham is concerned for Ishmael, and is remembering the second revelation of 13 years earlier, when he said to the Lord “’You have given me no offspring, and so a slave born in my house is to be my heir.’ And the Lord replied, ‘This man shall not be your heir; no one but your very own issue shall be your heir.’
To fulfill the second revelation’s promise of an heir, and at Sarai’s insistence (since she was barren) Abram fathers a child through Hagar, Sarai’s slave. Sarai then feels that the newly pregnant Hagar is looking upon her with contempt and abuses her. Hagar then flees into the desert. There, an angel appears to her saying “return to your mistress and submit to her.” And tells Hagar she will have a son, repeating what seems to be part of the promise, saying “I will so greatly multiply your offspring that they cannot be counted.”
When Hagar’s child is born, Abram names him Ishmael – as was commanded by the angel – a name which literally means “God Hearkens” or, to use more modern language, “God hears (and responds)” – a clear indication that Abram believes the child is the promised heir.
13 years go by, and now we’re in the time of the third revelation from this morning’s reading: God says the same things as before, adds a requirement for circumcision as a sign of the covenant; renames Abram to “Abraham”; then says “As for Sarai your wife, you shall not call her Sarai, but Sarah shall be her name. I will bless her, and … I will give you a son by her … she shall give rise to nations; kings of peoples shall come from her.”
Abraham laughs (whether from joy or incredulity, we’re not sure – maybe both) and wonders at this, given his and Sarah’s advanced years. He then realizes that Ishmael, his only child, now 13 years old, is not the promised heir. What’s going to happen to him? So Abraham says “O that Ishmael might live in your sight!” – pleading for his only son’s position, and maybe even his life.
After affirming that Sarah will indeed bear him a son to be named Isaac, God says “As for Ishmael, I have heard you; I will bless him and make him fruitful and exceedingly numerous…. But my covenant I will establish with Isaac, whom Sarah shall bear to you at this season next year.”
Afterwards, and as God commanded be done in observance of this new covenant, Abraham takes Ishmael and all the men in his household, whether free or slave, and circumcises them, including himself.
Now this is troubling. Ishmael, whom we thought to be the promised heir from the second revelation, was apparently confirmed as such by the angel who spoke to Hagar. And, Abraham names the child “Ishmael”, just as the angel commanded. He had to be the heir. But now, he is no longer the child promised as part of the covenant. It looks like he’s been rejected, and yet he is circumcised, meaning that he is part of the covenant.
For someone who has Eternal Life, no day is any more, or less, valuable than any other. They have unlimited time to complete unfinished business, correct mistakes, or finish their “bucket list.” So, what value would any particular day (or century) have for them? Would love or friendship be valued when time is of no concern? Mortality makes time precious, but also means all things are eventually stolen or destroyed by time – except for Love.
“The Struldbrugs” (from Gulliver’s Travels by Jonathan Swift)
Recently, I’ve been thinking about eternal life and its implications, as reflected within Lent and Easter.
In Genesis 3, YHWH removes our access to Eternal Life after Adam and Eve eat of the “Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil.” Yet, Jesus’ death is presented as the perfect sacrifice for our salvation and reconciliation with God: a promise that we too shall be resurrected, someday. So I wonder, is Eternal Life a good or bad thing; and how does it differ from being resurrected, reconciled and saved?
One implication of Eternal Life is that time no longer matters. For someone who has Eternal Life, no day is any more, or less, valuable than any other. They have unlimited time to complete unfinished business, correct mistakes, or finish their “bucket list.” So, what value would any particular day (or century) have for them? Would love or friendship be valued when time is of no concern?
Many writers have thought about Eternal Life…
Jonathan Swift in “Gulliver’s Travels” imagines an immortal race called the Struldbrugs. They live forever, but do not have eternal youth: their minds and bodies eventually deteriorate to the point where every breath is torment – but they cannot die. Immortality for a Struldbrug is a curse, not a gift.
In “The Lord of The Rings”, J.R.R. Tolkien presents a race with eternally youthful bodies: the Elves. Yet immortality is a burden for them, too: They are a people not quite in tune with the world. A people whose bodies do not age, but who carry profound sadness because they know everything they create, everything they love, will eventually pass away – and they cannot stop it. They are doomed to outlive everything around them, and cannot escape from their past to live fully in the present.
Science Fiction author Robert Heinlein imagined the achievement of immortality through technology. In his novel “Time Enough For Love” is Lazarus Long, who is two and a half millennia old. (Or so, but who’s counting?) A man who is medically “rejuvenated” whenever old age afflicts him. But Lazarus is tired of life. Like the elves, Lazarus has seen everything he creates or loves pass away.
Heinlein also points out that our brains are not infinite: If we live long enough, we run out of room for new memories. Even if that weren’t a problem, our memories get cluttered and disorganized with age. (In one of my favorite passages, Lazarus complains about hunting all morning for a book, only to realize he’d put it down a century ago.) Through Lazarus we see that even with youthful bodies, our minds (and spirits) will still age.
Periodically, Lazarus has his mind “washed” of old memories to make room for new ones, but this raises a new question: what good is immortality when memory no longer links you with the person you once where? Immortality is a burden for Lazarus because he outlives his youth, and because of the broken connection between his present and his past.
Mortality makes time precious: every day is a gift that cannot be recaptured. The flip side of this is that we cannot go back and make different choices when things don’t turn out as we hoped. We cannot choose to avoid the pain that is the inevitable result of the choice to love.
In the end, we need to ask ourselves whether it is worth it: to live a life like that of Lazarus, or the elves, or the Struldbrugs, or the timeless existence Adam and Eve had before they ate of the fruit.
We are not a lucky people, we are a prepared people!
Our son “working” with a snowblower
My wife Stephanie is a Chiropractor. When we have snowy weeks like this, I wonder if it was such a great idea to have her office in our home. Out of consideration for her patients, I spend a great deal of time on days like today plowing, shoveling & sanding; and I’ve built up a set of tools, practices, skills and resources appropriate to such efforts. Without them, I would not be able to do what needs to be done to support her and her patients in a timely fashion, let alone have time to complete my newsletter article for ARK Church!
One of my favorite movies is Pixar’s “The Incredibles,” a story in which each main character’s super-strength is also their weakness. They are so used to employing their strengths to solve any problem that they are at a loss when their strengths are no longer sufficient for the challenges they face. But, right when all of the individual crises of the main characters peak and collide, a wise friend tells Helen Parr (aka Elastigirl), “Luck favors the prepared.”
I’ve been pondering how faith operates in and through us – both positively and negatively.
For a positive example, I look to our own congregation: We saw faith at work last night in our Annual Meeting – a time of remembering, visioning and deciding; sharing our knowledge, and evaluating the effectiveness of the wealth, wisdom and work we’ve expended in the past year. It was a time of counting up the resources available to us and deciding how to best utilize them to accomplish the mission and goals we believe are a part of our journey into the future.
That meeting, just like this worship service, and the many other things we do – either individually or jointly – are all positive, beneficial, things – or at least we see them as such. And, we see them as expressions of our faith.
It seems to me that we need to understand what Faith is, since what it is is central to who we are as Christians, and therefore critical in our discernment and pursuit of God’s Call upon our lives.
We all go through dark times in our lives, times when our own prayers; and even the assurances, encouragements and prayers of others; seem futile and useless. If anything, such attempts are painful and bitter proof that human effort is always futile in the end. And yet, the darkness we see all around us is not really the issue. It is the darkness within us that we are really battling…
These short and gloomy days and long dark nights of winter are a hard time, often made harder and darker by the challenges we face.
We all go through dark times in our lives, times when our own prayers; and even the assurances, encouragements and prayers of others; seem futile and useless. If anything, such attempts are painful and bitter proof that human effort is always futile in the end.
In such times all we see is darkness ahead of us, behind us, and all around us. We are convinced the end is near and inescapable. We know that all we are, all we do, and all we aspire to be, is nothing in the face of the insurmountable challenges confronting us. We have no hope. No one can change the darkness that is inexorably consuming us.
And yet, the darkness we see all around us is not really the issue. It is the darkness within us that we are really battling: it feeds on the loss of hope within our spirits; and on our endless self-castigation for missed opportunities, for past sins, and for our separation from those whom we love.
One of the lectionary readings for this coming Sunday is from Psalm 62, which repeats the following sentence twice: “[God] alone is my rock and my salvation, my fortress; I shall never be shaken.” It is a Psalm written by someone just like us. All they had left was God, and their faith. And yet in such times of darkness, even our faith seems insufficient to dispel the darkness we see all around us.
Darkness blinds us to our God who, in the first chapter of Genesis, CREATED the light – a point emphasized in the first few verses of the Gospel of John as well: “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things came into being through him, and without him not one thing came into being. What has come into being in him was life, and the life was the light of all people. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.”
We cannot overcome the darkness on our own; but no matter how dark it is around us, God is there. No matter how dark it is within us, God is there. The Holy Spirit is the “light of all people” – a light within us. It shines no matter how dark things may seem, and the darkness cannot overcome it.
So, in these darkest of times, be certain that God is there, because God is Lord of Darkness, not just the Lord of Light; and God is the Creator of Light. God is the source of all light, light that is there even in the midst of the greatest darkness of all.
God is always with us, a light that shines no matter how hopeless, empty, and futile our personal darkness may seem. God’s Hope for us lies within God, it is not something that we can lose or forsake on our own; because it is under God’s control, and scripture assures us that God will never forget us or forsake us.
We can trust in God at all times, because God is with us for ALL time. God is our Rock and our Salvation: a refuge that will never fail.
Amen.
Copyright (c) 2015, Allen Vander Meulen III, all rights reserved. I’m happy to share my writings with you, as long as proper credit for my authorship is given. (e.g., via a credit that gives my full name and/or provides a link back to this site – or just email me and ask!)
Todd Starnes, host of Fox News & Commentary on Fox radio, recently posted an article that supports a pledge recently signed by many Religious leaders, in which they commit to rising up with acts of “Civil Disobedience” to highlight their opposition to Gay Marriage.
The Here and the Hereafter 