For a complete listing of the Lectionary scripture readings
for these Sundays, go to http://divinity.library.vanderbilt.edu/lectionary/.
The sermons for Sundays Proper 16, 17, and 18 are provided by
Rev. Mike Schutz. Mike is the senior pastor of the Avon Grove Church of the
Nazarene in West Grove, Pennsylvania.
Like many churches, our congregation is a mix of those who have
been in the church for years and those who are new to the faith. Those new
to the Christian journey need to know about the spiritual resources available
for the life of faith, and seasoned believers need a reminder, not only for
their own journey but also in order to provide encouragement and support.
This sermon presents, in a simple and straightforward manner, Paul’s
metaphor of the armor of God.
There is such a temptation for us to approach the Christian
life the same way we approach a new exercise regimen, new diet, or a New Year’s
resolution. We are ready to try hard, to do our best, and hope to succeed
and make real changes in the way we live. Such efforts, however, often fail
after just a few days. Our best efforts are not as strong as the deeply-ingrained
habits and temptations that distract us, and the lesser things that pull us
away from our goals.
This is where the Body of Christ can be such a wonderful blessing.
As we seek to develop spiritual disciplines in our life, those habits that
make us better able to know and do the will of God, we need other believers
alongside us to support, encourage, and comfort. In the language of Paul’s
metaphor, we need “armor bearers,” who assist us in learning and
using the resources available to us as Christians.
There are times in the life of every church when the spiritual
maturity and relational strength of the congregation is tested. Just a few
days after I preached this message, we learned of a major financial crisis
which threatened the viability of a key ministry, with repercussions for the
entire church. As we came together to address the crisis, and prayerfully
sought God’s guidance, church members reflected back to this message,
and gained strength from its simple truth.
Our family has made several trips to visit our friends who are
involved in compassionate ministry in Sighisoara, Romania. As we have briefly
joined them in their ministry among the wonderful Romanian people, we have
been reminded of the very concrete command of James: “look after orphans
and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the
world” (1:27). This is what they are doing: ministering to orphans and
widows. Ironically, the work in Transylvania began with the formation of an
“ecology club,” teaching young people how to take water and soil
samples in the midst of a polluted environment.
We are called to carry out both aspects of this command, to
serve those in need, and to remain pure as a witness to the work of God in
our life. It is only through the work of God’s Spirit that we can carry
out these assignments. This is such a powerful message to young people in
these times, and so needed in our society, that we have chosen James 1:27
as the theme for our district youth music and drama ministry.
In our church there is a young man who is a talented songwriter.
He has written two songs which address this call upon our lives. The first
one, entitled “Sadie’s Song,” was written in celebration
of a family who adopted several children from China. Here is the chorus:
For with what more than this
can we truly bless
than to care after orphans and widows
in their distress.
For our Father who loves us
calls this true religion
Not a list of laws or decrees
But just to take the lost ones in
And love them.
The second song calls out to a generation of young people who
feel hopeless and lost in the pain of life. Here is the chorus to “Pure”:
You can be pure
Though you’re scarred by the past
You can be sure
Of a forgiveness and a love that last
You can be strong
Though you feel weak and don’t know
what you’re here for
Though you’re weary and broken and poor
You can be pure.
During the time of the Jesus Movement, one of the great blessings
was the manner in which some of the old saints of the Church embraced and
encouraged the young believers, even though their appearance, music, and behavior
was not typical for church folks. Imagine the response if the young people,
many from the streets, would have been turned away from worship services due
to their long hair and shabby clothes. In some places they were rejected.
In other places, however, they were welcomed, and the message of God’s
love was communicated through word and action.
There are those groups within the Church that emphasize the
ease with which one enters into relationship with God through Christ, and
that nothing more must be done to remain in fellowship with God. It is not
surprising that those folks often find the Epistle of James to be difficult
and uncomfortable. James calls us to live out the faith, and that only a faith
that is demonstrated through action is real and salvific.
This message lends itself to the use of drama or video. A depiction
of James 2:2-3, or of 2:14-16, would be helpful. I used a concert video of
the song “Screen Door” by Rich Mullins. The lyrics of the song
speak directly to the scripture passage. In addition, the band uses cups as
rhythm instruments. The cups can be distracting from hearing the words. I
used this as an illustration of how we can be distracted by superficiality,
and lose our focus on the central message—which relates to the danger
of favoritism as a distraction from the heart of the gospel.
The sermons for Sundays Proper 19 and 20 are provided by Rev.
Andy Lauer. Andy and his wife, Barb, are planting a church in Toledo, Ohio.
“Who do people say I am?” This first section of
the message draws out the fact that as human beings, our tendency is to reduce
people into bite-sized bits in order to better control and confine them. We’re
uncomfortable when people reside outside of our easily manipulated constructs.
This tendency is even more troubling when we do the very same thing to Jesus.
Thus we are challenged to consider how our cherished idols and images of Jesus
prohibit Him from having total freedom in our lives.
“Who do you say I am?” This second section explores
this more intensely personal question. The question is double edged: it’s
both, “Who do you say I am?” and “Who do you say I am?”.
On one hand it implies, who do you think I am? On the other hand it goes deeper
still to the existential question, who does your gut tell you I am? We are
encouraged to explore without restraint the extent of our honesty before God
about who He is and who we are in light of Him.
“You are the Christ.” This section examines that
exploration of our honesty. Honesty requires practice, repetition, and it
takes choosing the right friends for the journey—those who will not
let us lie to them or ourselves. Time after time, Jesus chastened the crudity
with which the disciples interpreted Him and His teachings. Never once did
He allow them to put on the comfortable slippers and robe of sloppy, self-centered
thinking. When they presumed to know His mind, He dashed their preconceptions
to pieces—not out of meanness or spite, but because it had to be that
way. The way of the Cross is too perilous for the ill-prepared.
“Who do you say I am?” The truth is, the question
was never really about the disciples. It was about the One they followed.
May we begin following Jesus instead of the personification of ourselves we’ve
made Him out to be.
None of us likes being last, if we’re honest. Last means
being a loser. It means joining the loners. Last means giving up our pretensions
to greatness. Being last involves not needing to be right in discussions and
arguments. It calls for giving away money and possessions and living like
and identifying with the “least of these.” It means owning up
to our vices and our dishonesty. Last requires that whining ceases, self-pity
dies, and rationalization and excuses are crucified.
Jesus says we must become last (Mark 9:35). None of us likes
much of what Jesus says, if we’re dead honest. Listening to Jesus means
giving up our way of thinking. It means acknowledging we’re blind and
stiff-necked. When we listen to Jesus we hang out with people we normally
wouldn’t be caught dead with. We don’t shrink from suffering and
injustice. We go to dark places. We stop obsessing over trivia. We get over
ourselves. We die with Jesus—to everything.
The disciples shared a relationship with Jesus that few ever
have—they literally walked with Him. They heard His stories the first
time they escaped His lips and listened as He unpacked their meaning for them.
They witnessed miraculous healing power flowing from His hands. They listened
and wondered as He often prayed a short distance away to His “Abba.”
They watched as He was transfigured on the mountaintop, and yet they still
didn’t get it. If they didn’t get it, how can we?
The way forward, as offered in this sermon, is by not divorcing
the easy yoke and light burden of Jesus from one another. What is the light
burden of Jesus’ words to the disciples, “If anyone wants to be
first, he must be the very last” (Mark 9:35)? It is the giving up the
futile chase after those things which can never be ours. Riches? Rusting.
Fame? Fading. Power and position? Passing. The Via Dolorosa was the only path
Jesus knew that led to resurrection and glorification—not in this world,
but the next. The sooner we realize this the more hope there is for us.
The sermons for Sundays Proper 21 and 22 are provided by Rev.
Debi Humphreys. Debi is the senior pastor of the Merritt Road Church of the
Nazarene in Ypsilanti, Michigan.
Bargain hunting is a great way to shop. There is something so
gratifying about getting a good deal and saving money. Clearance is the ultimate
bargain. In the hard economic times we are facing as a nation, everyone is
trying to get as much as they can for as little as they can.
This same attitude carries over into other areas of our lives
as well. We are guilty of getting as much as we can for as little as we can.
While this is a great way to shop, it isn’t a good way to live in other
areas of our lives. In particular, it is not a good way to live out our spiritual
lives.
People were guilty of this in Jesus’ time as well. Many
people flocked to see Jesus and had their hands out to receive all He could
give them. When Jesus went to the Cross and it became more costly to follow
after Him, the crowds faded away. People were not willing to pay the price.
Salvation is a free gift and we can do nothing to purchase it
for ourselves. Living for Christ, however, will cost us everything. Jesus
tells us that it is worth everything—even our very hands or eyes—to
live in harmony and obedience to Him.
When Jesus speaks of cutting off limbs or gouging out eyes we
find the words shocking. What He wants us to hear is that we would do whatever
is necessary to avoid temptation and sin in our lives. While we probably won’t
need to cut off limbs, we may need to make drastic changes in what we do and
where we go. Every sacrifice we make will be well worth the effort.
Jesus does not mince words when He tells us how important this
is. He lets us know that heaven or hell is at stake. We are not to try to
live our Christian lives the cheapest way we can. We must be willing to pay
whatever the price. In following Jesus, we need to be people that never consider
the cost but are willing to pay whatever the price.
Children are amazing people. If we listen and observe closely,
they can teach us many things. The scripture passage from Mark 10:13-16 at
first appears to be a sweet story about Jesus and children, but it is much
more than that. This passage tells us important things about our value to
Jesus.
During the time of Jesus’ earthly ministry, He progressed
from relatively unknown to a well-known, sought after public figure. As a
result, He was often pursued by crowds of people who gave Him little or no
time to be alone with God or His disciples. The disciples tried to act as
a buffer between Him and the public.
In this scripture account, they tried to send away a group of
children who were trying to come to Jesus for a blessing. The disciples felt
the children were unworthy of Jesus’ time and attention. There were
other, more important matters for Jesus, such as the Pharisees and Roman occupation.
Unlike our world, the first century did not place much value
upon children. It was an adult world and children were tolerated begrudgingly.
Children were gruffly sent away by the disciples. The message was clear: children
are not important enough for Jesus.
But Jesus came into the world to go to the cross for everyone, even “the
least of these.” Jesus knew that these children with dirty faces and
sticky fingers were the very ones He came to save. He didn’t allow public
opinion and social standing to get in the way of the His love for them.
Many times when we come to the Table of the Lord to receive
communion, we find ourselves with dirty faces and sticky fingers. We come
in shame and unworthiness because of our behavior and our failure to be all
that Christ calls us to be.
Christ, however, responds to us as He did to the children. He
calls us to come to Him, He embraces us, and He loves us. As we come to the
Table, we are invited to come as children; to receive His love and His grace.
Regardless of what the world thinks, He calls us worthy.
The sermon for Sunday Proper 23 is provided by Rev. Caleb Reynolds.
Caleb is the senior pastor of the St. Paul’s Church of the Nazarene
in Raytown, Missouri.
In the past several months, our world has witnessed a flurry
of dishonest stewards. CEOs wrecking companies and making off with multi-million-dollar
severance packages. Government contracts getting dolled out to deep-pocket
political contributors. Banks and financial institutions playing fast and
loose with common rules of accounting and finance. The last person in the
world I would expect to find giving a positive evaluation of this kind of
behavior is Jesus.
But that seems to be exactly what we have in this problematic
“Parable of the Unjust Steward.” The guy who’s ripping off
the boss actually gets commended by his boss, and the Lord Jesus. For me,
and for my congregation, this is an immediate point of engagement with the
text. What could Jesus have possibly meant?
Over and over again, the words of Jesus and the testimony of
the Scriptures do not commend underhanded financial dealings. It flies in
the face of the truth, “do unto others as you would have them do unto
you,” of the Golden Rule. It goes against the important notion of social
justice and righteousness that was at the foundation of the warnings of the
Prophets. So Jesus’ point, it seems to me, isn’t to congratulate
those who have successfully raised themselves at the expense of others.
It does, however, bring to light an important issue in our lives,
the question of our own personal loyalty. Who are we working for, anyway?
The unjust steward was going to lose his job, whether the accounting of his
final day was accurate or not. He was looking toward life after his current
employment, and his personal commitment was to that period of time.
Jesus’ admonition to “store up treasures in Heaven”
rather than squirreling away material wealth here on earth can be applied
here (Matthew 6:19-21). As long as we live in this earthly kingdom, our aim
should be to use the resources of this realm for the purposes of God’s
Kingdom and His mission.
The sermon for Sunday Proper 24 is provided by Rev. Kelly Yates.
Kelly is on staff at First Church of the Nazarene in Oklahoma City, Oklahoma
and teaches at Southern Nazarene University.
The hair raised on the back of my neck that day in May 2001
when a Vietnam veteran went off his anti-psychotropic medication and left
death threats for every pastor in town. All peace in my heart shattered as
I hit the play button on the answering machine. The death threat sounded like
something out of a horror movie. Did I experience fear and trembling? Yes.
Did I have faith? It was hidden way down in the depths of fear. I learned
that spring what true discipleship is. The man was arrested and placed under
supervision until his meds were regulated. We did not hear from him again,
but for the first time I experienced true terror simply because I was following
Jesus.
Anyone who thinks it is possible to follow Jesus without horror,
foreboding, and an occasional shaking in the shoes, doesn’t get it.
James and John request to be on the right and left hand of Jesus
when He enters His glory. We usually think the other disciples have a right
to be angry with James and John. After all, they are asking for special treatment:
to be the teacher’s pets. Yet in Mark, this passage comes right after
Jesus predicts His death for the third time.
They are angrier with James and John than they are upset that Jesus will die.
We are so busy criticizing James and John we forget to evaluate the other
ten. Mark describes the ten as “indignant.” We might call this
“holy anger” or “righteous indignation.” Surely they
were justified in their frustration. They are not justified in the reason
for their anger.
They just don’t get it, but do we? We are offended by
the request but are we horrified at the prediction of Jesus’ death?
Why would Jesus choose to go where He knows they will kill Him? Maybe they
are still hoping He will not let it happen, but will display His power. They
want in on that power.
The request is completely inappropriate but Jesus does not condemn
them. Instead, He gently leads them back to the road to Jerusalem.
When we get scared and want to run away, Jesus gently pulls
us back into His arms. We may recoil at the thought of suffering, but He never
promised safety in this world. He promised rest in His presence and the hope
of resurrection.
The sermon for Sunday Proper 25 is provided by Rev. Erik Gernand.
Erik is the senior pastor of Real Life Community Church of the Nazarene in
Murfreesboro, Tennessee.
In Mark’s gospel, there are vision problems . . . and
then there are vision problems. There are some people who physically can’t
see . . . and then there are some people who can physically see just fine,
but they can’t “see” who Jesus is. The former problem serves
to highlight the latter.
Blind Bartimaeus’ story serves as a bookend to a section
of Mark that begins with the story of another blind man (8:22-26). The stories
that are sandwiched between these stories are ones that speak of Jesus’
true identity and mission. Jesus is revealing His identity to people with
fuzzy vision, trying to help them see more clearly who He really is. To understand
either blindness story, we’ve got to look at what’s going on between
them.
In this sandwiched section, we find Peter’s declaration
of Jesus as the Christ. We become insider witnesses of the transfiguration.
We are taught in four separate instances, by Jesus, that He is the Messiah,
but it doesn’t mean what we might have thought. He will go to Jerusalem
to be handed over, rejected, crucified . . . and resurrected.
By the time we get to Bartimaeus, the followers of Jesus have
been told in a number of ways who Jesus is, but they’re still not seeing
clearly. So, when Bartimaeus begins to call out to Jesus, “Son of David,
have mercy on me,” we are hearing the words of someone who is blind
in the physical sense, but actually sees very clearly in another sense.
Jesus calls to Bartimaeus and asks an interesting question,
“What do you want me to do for you?” It’s a question that
goes to the center of the desire of the person who is being asked. It’s
the exact same question Jesus asked James and John, in the story just before
this, when they gave the ridiculous answer about seats in the Kingdom.
If Jesus asked us that same question, how would we answer?
Bartimaeus answers, “I want to see,” which is significant
not just because he is blind, but because this is the exact answer to the
question that Mark wants all of us to have. Mark wants us to want desperately
to see who Jesus really is and what He’s really up to. Once we see clearly,
we drop everything and follow Him—which is exactly what Bartimaeus did
when he was healed.
May our vision be as sharp as Bartimaeus’ vision.
The sermon for Sunday Proper 26 is provided by the editor.
It seemed a no-win situation. First Naomi and her family faced
starvation because of the famine in Israel. They left their home in Bethlehem,
ironically the name means “house of bread,” to travel to hostile
territory and possible food. Naomi’s family, foreigners away from the
Promised Land, eventually found themselves settling in to their new environment.
Over a period of ten years, Naomi’s sons found and married Moabite women,
witnessed the passing of their father, and also passed away. Naomi, and her
daughters-in-law, again faced starvation: without the protection and provision
of men in this patriarchal society, the women had few choices to make about
their future.
Then Naomi “started to return” to the Promised Land
because she had heard that “the Lord had considered his people and given
them food” (v. 6, nrsv). Although God provides for His people, Naomi’s
outlook on the situation is grim, dejected. Despite the report of a good harvest,
Naomi’s spirits are less than elated. She seems resigned to simply moving
back to the familiar. Perhaps she could manage to scrap by somehow. She warns
off her daughters-in-law, “I have no more sons for you to marry.”
She points out that she has nothing besides a homeland and God—to which
Orpah turns back home and Ruth pledges herself to Naomi and her God.
A famine drove Naomi away from the Promised Land and all that
she knew. Ruth, however, was drawn away from a potentially comfortable life
amongst things and people she knew, to the unfamiliar, the unknown. What was
it about Israel’s God that could be motivation for a young woman to
leave the safety of what she knew to the ambiguity of the unknown? In the
face of this decision, Ruth chooses to give up the known and journey into
the faithfulness of Naomi’s God.
What is God calling your parishioners—individually and
corporately—to be in their homes, jobs, schools, and community? What
might they need to let go of in order to embrace what He has for them? Too
often we see Ruth has having nothing better before her than to stick with
her mother-in-law, but the bravery and faith it took for her to follow a God
she did not yet know is amazing.
The sermon for Sunday Proper 27 is provided by Dr. Keith Schwanz,
Assistant Dean at Nazarene Theological Seminary in Kansas City, Missouri.
Church fight! In Galatians 2, Paul provided a brief glimpse
of an early church fight. After Peter’s buddies from Jerusalem showed
up at Antioch, Peter ignored the Gentile believers. Peter huddled with his
friends and in doing so turned his back on everyone else. Paul confronted
this behavior. He charged Peter with being out of alignment with the gospel
(v. 14).
Paul doesn’t use the word “hospitality” in
Galatians, but in essence he charged Peter with being inhospitable. Hospitality
means to “make room” for another person. Peter, in contrast, shut
out the Gentiles, and in doing so slipped out of alignment with the gospel.
Paul spoke from personal experience. He knew the grace of receiving
hospitality. The believers took a risk when they “made space”
for Paul after his conversion. Through vision and experience, Peter knew about
the inclusive nature of the gospel, but his actions in Antioch did not align
with the truth of the gospel.
I wonder how Paul would assess our alignment with the gospel.
In the Bible, hospitality is usually associated with the care of strangers;
we spend practically all of our time with friends and family. In the Bible,
hospitality is offered to those with no ability to reciprocate; we often feel
an obligation to tell a host, “I’ll have to have you over to my
place sometime soon.” In the Bible, it is the community which cares
for the needs of others; in our culture we have turned this task over to the
hospitality industry.
The gospel intentionally makes room for people of every race, culture, and
social position. If we are to be aligned with the gospel, then we must practice
hospitality.
The sermons for Proper 28 and Reign of Christ Sunday are provided
by Rev. Edna Murugan. Edna is the senior pastor of the Haines City Church
of the Nazarene in Haines City, Florida.
We are living in a time of much unease; we need to seek God’s
face and draw closer to Him. Despite the turmoil in our world, I really do
believe that as Christians we could face the future with confidence, knowing
that God is with us.
Jesus was aware that His disciples would face insurmountable
problems at times. He knew that their future would not be free from issues
and circumstances that would overwhelm or cause them fear. Yet He did not
remove them from the world, but prayed for them that God, His Father, would
be with them and take care of them (John 17). Throughout the Scriptures, we
saw how God stood with the disciples and saw them through every situation.
We are His disciples; we too will face the future with terrible
situations, chaos and confusions, problems of varying nature, and difficulties.
These may cause us to wonder if and how we will be able to overcome them.
Paul reminds us that “no temptation has seized you except what is common
to man. And God is faithful; he will not let you be tempted beyond what you
can bear. But when you are tempted, he will also provide a way out so that
you can stand up under it” (1 Corinthians 10:13). This is the assurance
we have that Jesus will make a way out for us and help us to endure.
David loved God; he revered God and knew God. Therefore he was
a man after God’s own heart. He knew what it takes to face the giants
in his life. He knew what it takes to face the fears he had and no doubt he
was able to overcome those fears by keeping close to God. He was in daily
communion with God.
Have you ever been overcome by a stressful situation? You finally
took that situation to God in prayer and automatically you were relieved from
some of the physical pressures. God’s presence and His assurance that
He hears and cares for us dispel all fears. Peter wrote, “Cast all your
anxiety on him because he cares for you” (1 Peter 5:7).
Varying opinions are held when it comes to monarchs and royalty.
Many are thrilled about it and others who, because of monarchs throughout
history, dislike it. Some worship and are enthralled by monarchs; others are
not drawn to any of it. The idea of being ruled by someone, or our thoughts
and actions being engulfed by their power, is not something we accept easily.
Contrary to how we feel about monarchs, today is Christ the King Sunday and
we acknowledge our loyalty to the King of kings and Lord of lords as we worship
and bow before Him. We recognize that Jesus is our King.
The Christian view and vision of Jesus Christ should be exciting,
charming, enthralling, and a blessing. We have this wonderful privilege of
beholding our Heavenly Monarch not merely as a king but as indeed He is, King
of kings and Lord of lords.
Unlike the monarchs of the world, Jesus is lowly and humble.
He does not have an army or an entourage accompanying Him as He moves and
dwells among us. He does not dress like royalty. Yet He asks us to give up
our possessions and follow Him. He lived among sinners and showed them He
truly cared. He forgave them, changed lives, and made a way for us to worship
Him and bow down.
Jesus standing before Pilate was asked “‘Are you the king of the Jews?’ ‘Yes, it is as you say’” Jesus replied (Luke 23:3). Romans 14:11 testifies to who Jesus really is: “‘As surely as I live,’ says the Lord, ‘every knee will bow before me; every tongue will confess to God.’” Let us continue to accept Him into our hearts and worship Him; He is the King of Kings.
