“What is to Prevent Us?”

Sermon preached Sunday, April 28, 2024, the Fifth Sunday of Easter at Lutheran Church of Our Saviour in North Chesterfield, VA. 

I love other people’s enthusiasm. I love how contagious it is. I love how all it takes is one person’s passionate response to something to get a whole group of people involved. Have you ever been to a meeting or a planning session where one person’s enthusiasm gets everybody worked up and the ideas are flying across the room and everyone is honestly, truly, excited about doing what needs to be done? I live for those moments.

Maybe it’s because I’m already a pretty enthusiastic person. If you haven’t noticed—and I’m sure you have—I talk with my hands. They’re almost always moving, especially when I’m passionate about something. I sometimes talk fast, as if there are so many words and ideas rolling around in my head that I almost can’t get them out fast enough. I laugh loudly. I use hyperbole liberally, noting that far too many things are “the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen.”

And maybe all of this is why I love the first story we heard this morning so much. Acts of the Apostles is full of stories about conversion and baptism, but this one I think is my favorite. This story about the Ethiopian eunuch stands out amidst the sermons, miracles and confrontations with authorities. If nothing else, this Ethiopian eunuch is enthusiastic—especially about his faith.

This man has a high power position with the Ethiopian royal court, even if his social status is still rather low. He is in charge of the entire treasury for the queen. He is trusted and is likely well compensated for his loyalty. And yet even with his lofty role, he takes the very long journey to Jerusalem. He goes to worship at the temple, even though, being a eunuch, he wouldn’t be considered a whole man and wouldn’t be able to fully participate in temple worship.

He reads the prophet Isaiah to himself, even though he struggles to understand it. He invites Phillip, a stranger on the road, up into his chariot to teach him. He sees a small bit of water and immediately wants to be baptized. He goes on his way rejoicing and proclaiming the good news of Jesus.

This Ethiopian’s enthusiasm can be best highlighted in the question he asks Phillip: “What is to prevent me from being baptized?”

What would our faith look like if we lived with such enthusiasm? What would it mean to operate out of a place of possibility and hope instead of doubt and pessimism. What might be the questions we would ask?

What is to prevent us from providing food for the hungry and shelter for the homeless?

What is to prevent us from offering equal opportunities to everyone, regardless of race, gender, creed, or any of the other labels we love to put on other human beings?

What is to prevent us from boldly proclaiming the freedom and abundant life we have in Jesus Christ?

These questions, and more questions. What is to prevent us from living our faith and not just talking about it on Sunday mornings?

What is to prevent us from being God’s presence in the world? What is to prevent us from being God’s hands?

I have a classmate from high school. His name is Dwight. We haven’t kept in touch much, but Facebook makes the world small. Nine years ago, he had been attempting to climb Mt. Everest. Let me remind you that nine years ago, in April of 2015, an earthquake hit Nepal…and it hit while he was on Mt. Everest. His expedition was safe, though an avalanche near them took out most of their base camp and ended eighteen lives. Instead of trying to get out of the country as quickly as possible, Dwight and some of his fellow climbers leapt into the rescue effort, helping as much as they could.

Dwight had the Silicon Valley money to afford a helicopter evacuation. He could buy his way onto a flight home. Instead, he asked himself, “What is to prevent me from doing what I can here?” Instead of taking that flight, he donated what it would have cost to the villages he could get to, started up a fundraising site for those same villages and stuck around for at least a month to lend his hands, feet, body and soul to the place he found himself in.

We might not have the financial resources that could allow us to do what Dwight did, but what is to prevent us from doing something when faced with a community in need? What is to prevent us from stepping up like the people we see or read about who accomplish remarkable things? What is to prevent us? Nothing. Nothing, because of what Jesus tells us in verses from the Gospel of John we heard this morning.

Jesus tells us, “I am the true vine.” Jesus is the vine, we are the branches. “…the branch cannot bear fruit by itself unless it abides in the vine.” We cannot bear fruit unless we abide in Christ—and when we abide in Christ, that is when some truly amazing things are done.

When we abide in God, we have the resources and sustenance to do the will of God. When we abide in God, we are grounded in prayer and discernment, and find ourselves asking what God wants of us, rather than what we want for ourselves.

The branches do nothing apart from God: they die, their ideas die, the momentum and enthusiasm dies the more it moves away from God and instead focuses on us. This is the reality of everything we do as church. When we focus on things that aren’t God, it just doesn’t work.

If our main goal and focus is to increase membership, or giving, or pay off our mortgage faster, or renovate a space, we will never succeed. Those goals are not us abiding in the vine. We will not have the patience, endurance, or energy to see them through.

But if our goal is to spread the Gospel of Christ, or to show God’s abundance love through word and deed, or to truly welcome the stranger (instead of seeing them as another warm body)—then we are abiding in the true vine. Then we can have true, lasting, renewal. Focusing on God’s mission may very well result in more people or more money, but it’s not the goal. Our eyes are on God—our lives are abiding in God and God has promised to abide in us.

When we remember our roots and ask what God is calling us to do instead of letting fear take over, real change and life and growth happens. Let’s ask the questions of hope instead of the questions of fear.

Instead of: How can we get more members?” Or “How can we be sure we do things the way they’ve always been done?” Or “How can we get more money?”

Let’s flip the script like the Ethiopian Eunuch and look for the new places God is taking us.

Let’s ask:

“What is to prevent us from abiding in God?” “What is to prevent us from discerning God’s will for this place and this people?” “What is to prevent us from doing something remarkable for the sake of the Gospel?”

What is to prevent us?

Nothing.

And Christ, the True Vine, will give us the life to do it.

Amen.

The Wild Work of the Spirit

Sermon preached Sunday, June 9, 2019, Pentecost Sunday, at St. John’s Evangelical Lutheran Church in Littlestown, PA.

Pentecost is definitely one of my favorite festivals in the church year. I’m not even totally sure why, but it is. The imagery is great, with the flames and the wind and the dove. And maybe it’s my tendency to root for the underdog that makes Pentecost standout, since the Holy Spirit is the person in the Trinity who often takes a backseat…but it really shouldn’t.

After all, the Holy Spirit is God’s promised presence with us. When Jesus was still with his disciples, he promised them an advocate. And the Holy Spirit is what inspired the disciples to finally leave the upper room and begin to spread the Gospel. Without the Holy Spirit, we wouldn’t be here.

Today is not only Pentecost, but also Confirmation Sunday! The question then becomes, why do we do the Confirmation rite on Pentecost? We don’t need to, it’s not a requirement. In fact, we could Confirm our young people on any day the church gathers for worship. However, anytime there is a transitional rite in the church, we tend to invoke the Holy Spirit: ordinations, baptisms, and confirmation. It makes sense then, to Confirm our youth on Pentecost or Reformation Sunday, which is another traditional festival some congregations use—these are both considered Holy Spirit Festivals.

Confirmation is actually not even a unique rite unto itself. It’s really just an Affirmation of Baptism. When most of our youth were young, they were baptized, and promises were made on their behalf. Their parents or the folks bringing them to baptism promised:

to live with them among God’s faithful people,

bring them to the word of God and the holy supper,

teach them the Lord’s Prayer, the Creed, and the Ten Commandments,

place in their hands the holy scriptures,

and nurture them in faith and prayer,

so that your children may learn to trust God,

proclaim Christ through word and deed,

care for others and the world God made,

and work for justice and peace.

And for the past however many years, it has been the parents’ faith, the grandparents’ faith, the congregation’s faith that has stood up on behalf of the child’s. Today, however, two of our young people are going to be making those promises for themselves after years of learning more about the Bible and what we believe as followers of Christ. Today, Taylor and Rebecca will be making a transition from their childhood faith to the beginnings of their adult faith and they will be able to take their place as full-fledged members of this congregation with every responsibility and privilege that entails.

It’s this idea of transition to adulthood that makes me laugh a little bit at our readings for today. In Paul’s letter to the Romans, he writes, “For all who are led by the Spirit of God are children of God.”

Of course, that phrase, “children of God” doesn’t refer to age, but about the way in which we relate to God. As “children,” we come to God unable to survive solely on our own, in desperate need of God’s guidance, love, and abundance. “Children of God” has nothing to do with age or status or a hierarchical church structure. It has nothing to do with the status of believers—we are all the same when we come before God.

The young people here at St. John’s, regardless of whether or not they are confirmed, are not the church of the future, as some folks may be prone to say. They are the church of today, the church of right now, just like the rest of us. They might engage the Church in a different way, they might have ideas that seem foreign. We might not know just how to make room for them—but they are here, the same way any of us are. And we have made promises on behalf of them.

When a child is baptized, the parents make promises, but the congregation makes promises as well. The congregation promises to support and pray for each individual in their life of faith—and supporting them means finding ways to fully include their true selves in our community. You’ll all make that promise again today—the promise to continue to support them and pray for them. Support does not require conformity, but rather encouragement and understanding.

After all, the Spirit that we celebrate and worship and remember today moves and guides the church in ways we often don’t expect or understand…or even want. That is the story of the early church breaking open on Pentecost. All of a sudden, it’s not just Jews, it’s not even just people who speak Aramaic or Hebrew or even Greek: it’s people of all tongues and nationalities hearing the Gospel. Eventually, as time goes on, the church opens up even more as newcomers aren’t required to conform into Judaism in order to follow Christ.

The Book of Acts and the story of how the Spirit has led the church is a story of things cracking open in new and different ways and conflict arising because always, without fail, someone opposed it. But always, without fail, God was at work, bringing some new out of the ever-changing church.

The past several days, I have been at Synod Assembly along with Carol Buckley. During those days, I was reminded over and over again the ways in which the Spirit is moving in the Church, both nearby in our synod and throughout the world. Global health, hunger, and disaster relief projects have been supported. Congregations have grown and changed and merged and taken on new mission. Individuals saw needs in the community and the Spirit helped them make connections with organizations and agencies to meet those needs. We also got to witness and participate in the ordination of four new pastors, when we literally sang, “Creator Spirit, heav’nly dove, descend upon us from above,” and asked for God to bless the ministry of these people.

If we are looking for it, the work of the Spirit is everywhere. Sometimes it makes sense and we can easily assent to it and embrace it. Other times, it might seem scary or strange or challenging and we might be tempted to shy away. But God’s reign will continue on regardless. Are we ready to join in?

Amen.

 

The Story of Lydia

Sermon preached Sunday, May 26, 2019, the Sixth Sunday of Easter, at St. John’s Evangelical Lutheran Church in Littlestown, PA.

The Easter season begins with such a burst of excitement. Can you even think back that far, back to the third week of April? After six weeks of Lent, it is such a joy to say “Alleluia!” again and recount the stories of the resurrection. We hear readings of promise and hope from Revelation, stories of the early church from the book of Acts, and resurrection accounts from the Gospels…as well as some rather wordy and slightly convoluted theological passages from the Gospel of John.

If I’m being honest, though, by this point in the Easter season, it begins to be a little tough to figure out what to say without repeating myself. That’s one of the reasons I’m so grateful for the reading from Acts, the story of how Paul meets Lydia. How many of you can recall hearing this story before? It’s not all that well known. We don’t hear it all that often in worship and, lucky for me, preaching on it gives me a welcome break from trying to decipher John.

Today’s Acts reading comes about halfway through the book. The bourgeoning church has been opening itself up to gentiles and Paul is establishing himself as an influential and charismatic missionary. Acts is following his progress and Lydia appears in the narrative almost as an accident.

Paul had a vision telling him to go to Macedonia to help the believers there. He was on his way there with his companion Silas when he traveled through the major city of Philippi and chose to stay there for a few days. On the Sabbath, Paul and Silas went in search of fellow believers gathered in worship and they found some outside of the city—and it just so happened that one of these believers happened to be Lydia.

Lydia is a really interesting figure. We honestly don’t know much about her. The few verses you just heard from the book of Acts? That’s it! But from these few verses we can glean a few important details. She is apparently a well-regarded leader among the Jesus believing women in Philippi. She is obviously wealthy, the owner of her own business selling pricey fabric and living in a home large enough to host guests. She had a level of influence and independence that was a bit unique for women in the Roman Empire during her time.

Our reading stops at verse 15, but after this Paul and Silas end up getting arrested in a story you’ll hear in worship next week. They are dramatically released from jail and, once they are free, they go back to Lydia’s house to regroup and rest before setting out again.

So, what does the story of Lydia tell us about God and faith and community? Why do we continue to tell her story, aside from the simple biographical and narrative account of Paul’s work? What can we learn? Quite a lot, actually, if we think about it.

First, we see how vital it is to be in community with other people of faith. Paul always has a companion on his journeys, he never goes anywhere alone. And, once he gets to a new place, he seeks out other believers. It’s clear that Lydia, too, knows that she can’t go it alone. She was a worshipper of God, but apparently felt it was important to gather with other worshippers, too.

These communities, the earliest gatherings of Christians, were a place to learn, to grow, and to encourage, comfort, and console one another when being a follower of Christ was a dangerous proposition. Isn’t this something we’d do well to be reminded of? That we can’t go it alone? That we need one another?

Another thing this story tells us is the importance of hospitality and generosity. Paul and whoever he was travelling with had little money and few resources. Instead, they most often relied on the people they encountered. Lydia offered up her home to Paul and Silas and this may have been the beginning of the church in Philippi, the church Paul writes to in his letter to the Philippians.

We hear again in this story the knowledge that God can work in and through unexpected people. Paul, of course, is the prime example. He was a persecutor of the church, even overseeing the execution of Stephen, if not more martyrs. No one would have expected him to pull a 180 and become a passionate evangelist for the Gospel.

And really, Lydia isn’t all that expected either. She may have been a widow and widows were often kept on the outskirts of society. She may have either not been married ever or had a husband who allowed her to have her own business, two circumstances which also would have been very unusual. She was a wealthy business owner who by all accounts had a pretty settled life. There’s not a good reason for her set herself up for exclusion by worshipping God and following Jesus, but it’s what she felt called to do. And God working in her in that way meant that not only she, but her whole household got baptized.

Finally, I think one of the things this story speaks to the most is how valuable it is to be open to the improvisational work of the Spirit. If Paul hadn’t been listened to the vision to go to Macedonia, this story would never have happened. If Paul and Silas hadn’t decided to stay in Philippi for a few days, if they hadn’t gone in search of other believers on the Sabbath, if Lydia hadn’t been there to pray…the ifs are endless, but the Spirit was guiding their paths.

The “ifs” continue on. Our lives can always go in any of a hundred or more directions and those directions might surprise us. But if we are open, listening to God, feeling the movement of the Spirit, we can find ourselves in remarkable places at just the right time.

Most of the time we look to the narrative stories of Jesus to inform and instruct us. We look at how Jesus interacts with others, but we don’t always look at the ways other biblical characters interact with each other. Even in this story, a story where God’s action is subtle and implicit, we can learn quite a bit about what God’s vision for Christian community might be.

Sometimes we might be Lydia. Sometimes might be Paul. Sometimes we might be one of the women gathered to pray or the other members of Lydia’s household. But no matter where we find ourselves, whose shoes we might be walking in, God is always finding ways to light our path forward, or introduce us to new companions on the journey, or deepen our faith.

Amen.