The Power of Small -- FPC sermon excerpt

Let me begin with three quick stories, with one common theme:

Story One. In about 500 B.C., Gautama Buddha meditated alone in an Indian cave for 40 days, and then staggered out — nearly dead from starvation. A girl from a nearby village saw him, and offered him some milk and rice pudding. Energized by this snack, Buddha walked to the famous tree under which he meditated and achieved enlightenment. The village girl gave a small gift that launched an entire religion.

Story Two. In the early 1700s, the French army had come close to taking the citadel in the city of Turin in northern Italy. But then a common Italian soldier developed a clever plan — he armed a mine in the tunnel, lured the French army closer, and then blew himself up, along with his enemies. This event turned the tide of the battle, and eventually the war. A single soldier took out an entire army.

On this particular Sunday, the day before Memorial Day, we remember the many men and women who — like this Italian soldier — made the supreme sacrifice for comrade and country.

Story Three. When William of Orange assumed the English, Irish, and Scottish thrones in the year 1689, a group of opponents called the Jacobites took action to overthrow him. But they were unsuccessful in their efforts. One day, a little mole kicked up a clump of dirt which tripped William’s horse, threw the rider, and shattered the king’s collarbone. As he tried to recover from this fall, William caught pneumonia and died. For years afterwards, the Jacobites toasted this mole, calling him the “Little Gentleman in Black Velvet.” The tiny mammal had helped to eliminate their nemesis, William of Orange.

Three stories, one theme: Small can be surprisingly strong and effective. According to mental_floss magazine (March-April 2008), the village girl, Italian soldier, and tiny mole were all “little guys who became historical heavyweights.”

They were all Davids, showing the world the power of small.

The first book of Samuel tells the story of David and Goliath, and it presents their contest as a completely lopsided mismatch. David is “just a boy,” says Saul, the king of Israel, while Goliath “has been a warrior from his youth” (1 Samuel 17:33). There seems to be no way that David the shepherd can prevail against 10-foot-tall Goliath of Gath, standing strong with a helmet of bronze, a coat of mail, a javelin, a spear, a sword, and a shield (vv. 5-7).

David was kind of like the Duke basketball team that went up against the University of Nevada, Las Vegas, in the 1991 Final Four. Las Vegas was predicted to win by at least 12 points. They were bigger, better in statistics, and faster. Virtually everyone thought Las Vegas was going to triumph, and some predicted that the game would be a blow-out — after all, they had crushed Duke the year before, winning the championship game by 30 points.

In the locker room before the game, Coach K gave his Duke Blue Devils a message that was surprisingly biblical. He compared their situation to that of the contest between David and Goliath. Duke was described as the little shepherd who was ready to go out on the hardwood and do battle with the mighty Las Vegas giant.

Coach K reminded his team of who they were and where they had come from during the year. He told them that if they believed, anything could happen. Duke went out the underdog, the David of basketball, and defeated the giant Las Vegas Goliath. That year, Duke won its first NCAA basketball championship.

“You come to me with sword and spear and javelin,” says David to Goliath; “but I come to you in the name of the LORD of hosts, the God of the armies of Israel, whom you have defied. This very day the LORD will deliver you into my hand, and I will strike you down and cut off your head” (vv. 45-46).

David knows that if he believes, anything can happen. He is convinced that the battle is not his, it is the LORD’s. Trusting God all the way, David runs quickly toward the battle line, flings a stone at the Philistine, and knocks him to the ground. Then he draws Goliath’s own sword, and uses it to cut off the giant’s head (vv. 48-51).

“I come to you in the name of the LORD,” says little David. “This very day the LORD will deliver you into my hand” (vv. 45-46). David is not full of self-confidence as he faces the giant — he is full of God-confidence. He knows that if you believe, anything can happen. He trusts that God will deliver Goliath into his hand, and God does just that.

When you talk about the power of small, you are really talking about the power of God.

Dining-Table Discipleship -- FPC sermon excerpt

Everyone knows the story of Easter morning. A group of women. Two angels. One amazed apostle.

The women discover the empty tomb, and report to the apostles that two angels have told them that Jesus has risen. But the women are not believed — at least not initially. Peter runs to the tomb, looks in, and then goes home, amazed at what has happened (Luke 24:1-12).

So that’s Easter morning, followed by Easter afternoon. Another story, one that most of you know.

Two disciples make the seven-mile trip from Jerusalem to Emmaus, and along the way they encounter a mysterious stranger, who interprets the scriptures for them. When he joins them for dinner, he breaks bread, and their eyes are opened and they recognize him — it’s Jesus!

Then poof — he vanishes from their sight (vv. 13-31).

Which brings us to Easter evening. Who knows what happens then? Probably fewer than one in 10. Easter evening has never packed the punch of Easter morning, mainly because it involves a dining table instead of an empty tomb.

You might think it’s unimportant, anti-climactic, even boring.

But you’d be wrong.

The two disciples race back to Jerusalem, and find the eleven and their companions in a dining room. Jesus appears, and scares them half to death — they think they are seeing a ghost (v. 37). But he says, “Touch me and see; for a ghost does not have flesh and bones as you see that I have.” And then to prove that he is no poltergeist, he asks them for some food. They give him a piece of broiled fish, and he eats it in their presence (vv. 38-43).

If he were a ghost, he wouldn’t be able to eat. Except for one thing: Boo-berries. Actually, two more things: Ice cream, with whipped scream. (I like preschool humor.)

But seriously, sitting around the table, Jesus tells them, “Everything written about me in the law of Moses, the prophets, and the psalms must be fulfilled.” He opens their minds to understand the scriptures, and says to them that what was written has come true — the Messiah has suffered and risen from the dead, and now “repentance and forgiveness of sins is to be proclaimed in his name to all nations, beginning from Jerusalem.”

The apostles are probably wondering who is supposed to do this work of proclaiming repentance and forgiveness, so Jesus leans across the table and makes it clear. “You are witnesses of these things,” he says, probably pointing with his fork. “And see, I am sending upon you what my Father promised; so stay here in the city until you have been clothed with power from on high.”

Then he leads them away from the table, one that is probably still covered with dirty dishes. He hikes them out to Bethany, gives them a blessing … and is carried up into heaven. Easter evening ends with the ascension, according to Luke. The apostles return to Jerusalem, worshiping Jesus, and they bless God continually in the temple (vv. 44-53).

I want you to notice what has happened here, on Easter evening. The mission of the apostles begins not with a visit to the empty tomb, but with a conversation over a piece of broiled fish.

You could call it “Dining-table Discipleship.”

Calving saw this coming -- USA TODAY, May 4, 2009

At times of crisis, we look to our leaders to find just the right words, just the right tone, and just the right insight and wisdom to guide us through the tumult. Yet often, the wisdom has been there all along, if you just know where to look — or rather, when to look. Say, about 500 years ago.

John Calvin, the Protestant Reformer who was born in 1509, could have seen the global financial meltdown coming from a mile — or mere centuries — away. No, he wouldn't have foreseen derivatives or credit default swaps or the other financial instruments that would have given even Albert Einstein a migraine. But he knew human weakness. Indeed, we are entering a Calvinistic period in American life, one that is falling into line with the insights and innovations of Calvin. Although often depicted as a stern theologian with a pointed beard and strong views about eternal damnation, Calvin was interested in a wide range of issues far beyond the walls of the church, and his ideas reshaped the economic, political and educational life of the Western world. His perspective can benefit us today, in this time of political change and economic crisis.

American idolatry

Calvin was deeply concerned about idolatry and worried about the human tendency to worship things instead of the one Lord God, creator of heaven and earth. He would have been troubled — but not surprised — by an article that appeared in The Atlantic 10 years ago, "The Market as God." At that point, many were seeing the stock market as all-powerful, all-knowing and ever-present throughout all of life. Millions of us were putting our faith in the market and trusting it to usher in our cozy future.

I think we all know what a false god the stock market has turned out to be. Not that investments are always a bad thing, but the market should never be confused with God. "Every one of us is," warned Calvin, "even from his mother's womb, a master craftsman of idols."

But Calvin was not opposed to capitalism. He eliminated the medieval prohibition against interest and allowed people to earn a fair return on their investments. By calling for Christians to live frugal, disciplined and simple lives, he helped foster savings — a message that is once again resonating today.

In addition, he encouraged people to seek the public good in their economic lives, not just private gains. "For Calvin the greatest theft is perpetrated by legal contracts and transactions, not by explicitly criminal behavior," says Randall Zachman, professor of Reformation Studies at the University of Notre Dame. Calvin thought that "it is the duty of every citizen to speak out when they see that unjust laws are causing their neighbors to be oppressed and robbed 'legally.' "

Clearly, Calvin would not have been opposed to increased regulation of the banks and brokerage firms that have caused financial ruin for so many.

Another Calvinistic priority was vigorous education of the young, which is a critical priority in establishing a foundation for sustained economic growth. In Geneva, where Calvin established his church, he ruled that "youth should be faithfully instructed," and this included poor young men and women — a small but significant step in women's rights. Calvin supported free schools in Geneva, and his emphasis on literacy and an educated clergy was taken by his followers to Scotland, and then to America.

Serene Jones, president of the Union Theological Seminary in the City of New York, says, "In a time in which women weren't even supposed to read, Calvin had the courage to imagine them not only as educated citizens, but also as religious and political leaders. Unfortunately, his thinking is ahead of some of our churches, even today."

He was a progressive thinker for the 16th century, and in a number of ways our churches are still trying to catch up with him.

A complex world

In ethics, Calvin was not comfortable making sharp pronouncements about good and evil. Political talk of an "evil empire" or an "axis of evil" would have struck him as overly simplistic, since he believed that sin corrupts every person, community and nation on earth. He realized that all people were good and valuable, but also distorted and dangerous.

"Calvin's sharp eye for ambiguity gives him an ingrained skepticism about human interactions that would have made him a first-rate investigative reporter for a major newspaper," notes David Kelsey, who taught theology at Yale Divinity School until his retirement in 2005.

Calvin refused to simplify human interactions "into an edifying drama of good guys vs. bad guys," says Kelsey. Such wisdom is, perhaps, even more applicable today than in Calvin's day, as technology has created a smaller, interconnected world in which effective diplomacy is often deployed in shades of gray rather than black and white.

Perhaps seeing some of the failures of his predecessor, President Obama seems to get this. His nuanced diplomacy — thus far, at least — is not a surprise, being that one of Obama's favorite philosophers is Reinhold Niebuhr, a 20th century theologian with a Calvinist pedigree. Niebuhr, who embraced tension and irony in American life and politics, is famous for saying, "Man's capacity for justice makes democracy possible; but man's inclination to injustice makes democracy necessary." Like Calvin, he knew that human beings could never approach the perfection of God, but still we are challenged to work together for justice and clarity in an ambiguous world.

Finally, democracy itself owes a debt to Calvin because he established a form of church government in which clergy and lay leaders had equal power. Ministers, deacons and elders (presbyters) were selected by the people of the church, and this democratic practice eventually formed the basis of the Presbyterian Church. In England, the American Revolution was criticized as being a "Presbyterian rebellion," and the Presbyterian form of church government went on to have a major influence on the formation of American civil government.

It's hard to say whether a Calvinistic revival in American life can provide us with the inspiration we need to rise out of our troubles. But given the positive impact that John Calvin has had on much of our history, I'm willing to put some faith in the old man.

To Boldly Go -- FPC sermon excerpt

For fans of Spock and Captain Kirk, the future begins on Friday, May the 8th.

There is a new Star Trek movie hitting the theaters this week, and I’m looking forward to it. I was obsessed with Star Trek when the original series appeared briefly on TV in the 1960s, and have watched on and off in the decades since. This new movie is an origins film — it goes back to the time when James T. Kirk was a young man, enrolling at Starfleet Academy. Far from being the captain of the Enterprise, Kirk just barely makes it onto the starship for a journey into space. Then, when the ship’s captain is forced to step down, it is Spock who is left in charge of the bridge — with Kirk as his assistant.

For die-hard Trekkies, this role-reversal will take some getting-used-to.

Still, the film promises to be a blockbuster, with a dramatic invasion of Spock’s home planet by evil Romulans from the future. You’ll see all your favorite characters, at the beginning of their careers: Scotty, Bones, Chekov, Uhura. And since Scotty manages to invent time travel as part of his engineering duties, you’ll see some familiar old friends as well. Leonard Nimoy, the original Spock, manages to travel back in time to be part of the story.

If you like this pointy-eared character young or old, you’ll probably think the movie is …

Spock-tacular.

And for those who are uncomfortable with change, don’t despair. Ben Child of The Guardian (November 11, 2008) reports that some things remain the same. As is always true in Star Trek, “wearing red is still likely to reduce your life expectancy by several decades.” You never want to be Star Trek character in a red shirt.

So here we go, on a journey from the very beginning of Star Trek history. We have the familiar characters. The close-knit community. The sense of idealism and adventure. The desire to boldly go where no one has gone before.

It’s kind of like the Acts of the Apostles. This New Testament book contains stories from the earliest days of the church, with the well-known characters Peter, John, Stephen, Paul, Philip, and Lydia. It is a book of origins, including the events that launch the greatest spiritual adventure of all time.