Friending Jesus -- FPC sermon excerpt

If your last name is Christmas, you’ve got a problem. It’s not simply that your choices are limited when you have to choose a name for a baby girl — for example, it would be cruel to call her “Mary.”

Mary Christmas.

No, the bigger problem is that Facebook will not accept you.

That’s right. If you submit the last name “Christmas” on Facebook’s online form, you will probably receive an automated response rejecting you. The gatekeepers of this social networking site have decided that “Christmas” cannot possibly be real, as a last name.

Same for the Yodas, the Beers, the Supers, the Sixes, and the Batmans. According to The Washington Post (March 5, 2009), they have all been rejected by Facebook, simply because they have an unusual last name. “I’ve heard every Superman joke known to exist,” says Becky Super, a landscape designer. And a man named Tim Six complains, “Try making a reservation at restaurants: I’d like a table for Six at Five for Three.”

Super and Six. Both signed up to join Facebook. Both were rejected.

The prophet Isaiah tells us that a child has been born for us, a son given to us, “and he is named Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace” (Isaiah 9:6). These are certainly unusual names, and you have to wonder: Would they be accepted by Facebook?

More importantly, are we accepting them? Isaiah tells us that the child’s “authority shall grow continually, and there shall be endless peace for the throne of David and his kingdom” (v. 7). Jesus is our newborn king, the Son of David, the Messiah, the Prince of Peace.

My question for you tonight is this: Are we friending him?

The great challenge of Christmas is to establish a strong connection with the baby born at Bethlehem. This begins by hearing a message from Isaiah that invites us to accept the child as a Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, and Prince of Peace. We don’t want to make the Facebook mistake of concluding that these names cannot possibly be real, and rejecting him.

So do you want to be friends with Jesus? That’s the question that Facebook would ask us. If you look at his profile, you see that he is a:

Wonderful Counselor. At the beginning of his ministry, Jesus passes through Samaria and meets a woman at a well. He speaks with her and tells her everything she has ever done. He reveals to her that he is the Messiah, and that the day is coming when “the true worshipers will worship the Father in spirit and truth” (John 4:23).

Jesus is our wonderful counselor — the one who knows us most fully, and loves us most deeply. He tells us the truth about ourselves, and invites us to follow him in a life of worshiping God in spirit and in truth.

So often, our success in life depends on the quality of our counselors. Think of recent presidents, and how they have been helped — or hurt — by their closest advisors. All of them have needed counselors who can tell them the truth about themselves, and keep them on the right path. Without good advisors, presidents tend to stumble. And so do we.

Next, Mighty God. When a friend of Jesus named Lazarus becomes ill and dies, Jesus travels to the man’s home in Bethany. One of the sisters of Lazarus meets him on the road, and says, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died” (John 11:21).

Jesus answers her, “I am the resurrection and the life. Those who believe in me, even though they die, will live” (v. 25). Then Jesus goes to the tomb, cries, “Lazarus, come out,” and the dead man emerges (v. 44). He is given new life, and so are we — if we believe in Jesus, our Mighty God.

It’s no coincidence that many favorite Christmas stories contain a message of new life. Think of A Christmas Carol, which includes the transformation of the miser named Ebenezer Scrooge … It’s a Wonderful Life, with its dramatic discovery of what really matters ... How the Grinch Stole Christmas, with the growth of the Grinch’s heart, which had once been “two sizes too small.” Christmas is all about moving from death to life, through the power of our Mighty God.

Finally, Prince of Peace. When Jesus is born in Bethlehem, most people are looking for a military messiah to drive the Romans out of Jerusalem. The prophet Isaiah captures this desire when he writes, “For the yoke of their burden, and the bar across their shoulders, the rod of their oppressor, you have broken as on the day of Midian” (9:4).

But Jesus comes not to be a military messiah, but a Prince of Peace. His endless peace is based on truth, justice and righteousness, not on the defeat of an oppressive empire. “My kingdom is not from this world,” says Jesus when he stands in front of the Roman governor Pontius Pilate. “For this I was born, and for this I came into the world, to testify to the truth. Everyone who belongs to the truth listens to my voice” (John 18, 36, 37).

For this I was born, says Jesus: To testify to the truth. And those of us who belong to the truth will listen to his voice, and follow him in the way of peace. “Peace is not the product of terror or fear,” said Archbishop Oscar Romero, who lost his life in service to Christ. Instead, peace is “the generous, tranquil contribution of all to the good of all. Peace is dynamism. Peace is generosity. It is right and it is duty.”

This is the way that Jesus wants us to live — making generous, tranquil contributions to the good of all. He challenges us to be dynamic in our peacemaking, not passive. Generous, not stingy. And dutiful — not reserving our efforts for holidays and other special times. The work of peace and reconciliation should be an everyday effort for all of us who follow Christ. After all, says the apostle Paul, God “reconciled us to himself through Christ, and has given us the ministry of reconciliation” (2 Corinthians 5:18).

As ambassadors for Christ, our mission is to make peace with others, following the example of the one who came to earth to reconcile us to God. That’s why an important line in our mission statement here at FPC says that we are to “work for reconciliation among people of diverse perspectives.” We are to “friend” others, just as Jesus came to make us friends with God.

Jesus is our Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Prince of Peace. On this Christmas Eve, let’s not be put off by these unusual names and reject him. Instead, let’s accept him and strengthen our connection to him. His names may be offbeat and unusual, but they reveal his true identity.

What a friend we have … in Jesus. Amen.

"Churches say, 'Be our guest'" -- USA TODAY, December 14, 2009

It's not uncommon today to linger after a church service for a cup of coffee, perhaps a doughnut and a little time to chat with fellow worshipers. The days of get-in-and-get-out might just be behind us.

Indeed, churches are rediscovering the power of hospitality, which goes back thousands of years — think of Jesus feeding 5,000 people by the Sea of Galilee.

What happened along the way? Christianity suddenly became a much more intellectual enterprise after the Protestant Reformation, when churches split into different denominations over theological ideas. Preachers and teachers tried to attract followers with compelling insights and ideas. The focus of the faith shifted from the heart to the head, leaving the stomach behind.

Today, congregations are trying to provide more than intellectual nourishment by putting restaurants and coffee bars in their buildings.In our polarized and fractured society, people of different backgrounds are invited to come together in these houses of God to have conversation over a meal or a drink — in spite of their differences.

"Through hospitality, we discover the ways we are both alike and different," says Christine Pohl, author of Making Room: Recovering Hospitality as a Christian Tradition. "When we welcome other people into our lives, we create space in which each person's gifts and insights can be shared."

Hospitality, then civility?

Our country needs such places of hospitality, whether they are located in churches or elsewhere.

In Washington, rancor has only gotten worse, in part because Democrats and Republicans run in different circles in their political and personal lives. It's easier to demonize your opponent if no occasion demands civility. An enormous amount of good could come out of shared meals in the congressional dining rooms, with Democrats and Republicans — gasp! — breaking bread together. (Imagine Rep. Joe "You lie!" Wilson asking House Speaker Nancy Pelosi to pass the salt.) Similar progress could emerge from meals in our communities i.e., churches — in which seniors would sit at tables with teenagers, blacks with whites, gays with straights, and immigrants with native-born Americans.

Hospitality can encourage what discussion and debate cannot: reconciliation. As we see across the globe today, theology tends to divide people and too often leads to conflict. Our own nation is still highly segregated on Sunday mornings. But a shared meal can unite people at the level of a basic human need. Over the course of my 23 years of ministry, I've seen the power of a simple international potluck dinner. As James Beard wrote, "Food is our common ground, a universal experience."

Meals also can build relationships across enormous socio-economic divides. My friend Kathleen Kline Chesson is the senior pastor of First Christian Church in Falls Church, Va., a congregation that serves 150 homeless people breakfast and lunch every Tuesday and Thursday. One rainy day, Chesson saw a homeless man — uninvited and dripping wet — shuffle into an elegant reception being held at the church after the funeral of a longtime member. Chesson greeted him, then smiled as three other members of the congregation rushed up to welcome him, making sure that he quickly had a plate of food.

A skate park, Wi-Fi and God

So how are churches evolving today? Many are trying to become the "third place" that Starbucks has staked out in our culture a place for people to go after (1) home and (2) work.

Saddleback Church in California, the megachurch led by Pastor Rick Warren of Purpose Driven Life fame, has a facility called the Refinery that could just as easily be mistaken for a town square — restaurants, snack bars, a skate park, a volleyball court and even a waterfall. Warren recently sent out a mass e-mail with an invitation to fill three things: your soul at worship, a grocery bag for the hungry, and "your tummy," adding that the Refinery offers "free Wi-Fi, too." (Starbucks, watch out!)

Clearly, the buttoned-up churches of yesteryear are giving way to Hospitality, USA:
• The Gathering is a new church in Sevierville, Tenn., designed for social interaction between congregation and community. Its lobby has a mountain-lodge feel, with a coffee bar and a bookstore.
• The Family Christian Center in Munster, Ind., actually has a Starbucks in its lobby.
• Brentwood Baptist Church in Houston hosts a McDonald's in its Lifelong Learning Center.
• The University Vineyard church in Fresno has a youth bistro with coffee and Christian bands.
• A cafe at the Reformed Church of Highland Park, N.J., is a "Robin Hood restaurant" — eat all you want, and pay what you can.

"Human beings are made for relationship," says Arthur Sutherland, professor of theology at Loyola University in Maryland, and author of I Was A Stranger: A Christian Theology of Hospitality. He says all relationships tend toward failure, but not one is irreconcilable. "Every time I reach beyond my near circle of relationships toward one that is farther away," says Sutherland, "I enrich the relationships closest to me."

Clearly, shared meals are not a quick fix for the divisions that we face in church and society. Theological debates will continue, racial-ethnic misunderstandings will still vex us, and not all church-based restaurants and coffee shops will serve a greater good. But every time people sit down to eat and drink together, there is the possibility that community will grow and people will be reconciled to one another. That is the potential of such meals, and certainly something we can all raise a glass to toast.

Henry G. Brinton is pastor of Fairfax Presbyterian Church in Virginia and author of Balancing Acts: Obligation, Liberation, and Contemporary Christian Conflicts.

Invictus -- FPC sermon excerpt

Invictus.

It’s a Latin word which means “unconquered.” It’s also the title of a new film about Nelson Mandela, the first black president of South Africa.

Mandela came to the presidency after spending 27 years in prison, locked up by a white government. While in prison, he had a scrap of paper with a poem called Invictus on it. The poem contained the lines,

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Through almost three decades in prison, Nelson Mandela remained unconquered. Invictus.

In the new movie about Mandela, the story is told of how he worked to unite his racially and economically divided country in the mid-1990s. Mandela had been elected the country’s first black president in 1994, after spending decades as a leading opponent of apartheid, the white government’s official policy of racial segregation. His opposition to apartheid had resulted in 27 years in prison, but in 1990 he was released — and then elected president.

In 1995, South Africa hosted the Rugby World Cup Tournament. Now rugby was a white man’s game, and the South African team was entirely white — a white team, representing a country that was 80 percent black. It also had a team symbol — a leaping gazelle called a “springbok” — that reminded most black South Africans of the country’s racist history.

Black president. White team. After 27 years in prison, you might think that Nelson Mandela would not look favorably on these players.

But you’d be wrong.

Mandela showed up at a press conference wearing a rugby jersey and cap with a springbok on it. Filled with enthusiasm, he said, “These are our boys now. They may all be white, but they’re our boys, and we must get behind them and support them in this tournament.”

The next day, the Springbok coach took his team to the prison where Nelson Mandela had spent nearly three decades of his life behind bars. Showing some spirit of his own, the coach said, “This is the cell where Nelson Mandela was imprisoned. He was kept here for 27 years by the racist policies of our government. We tolerated his imprisonment for all those years, and yet he has backed us publicly. We can’t let him down.”

The tournament opened, and the Springboks played beyond everyone’s expectations. In fact, they made it into the final game. President Mandela was in the stands, wearing a Springbok jersey. During timeout, he brought a South African children’s choir out of the stands, and they led 65,000 people in the singing of a black African miner’s song.

When the Springboks took the field, they were unstoppable, and they won the World Championship. And for the next 24 hours, whites danced with blacks in the streets of South Africa — for the first time, they saw each other as fellow citizens of a multiracial country.

“By the tender mercy of our God, the dawn from on high will break upon us, to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death, to guide our feet into the way of peace” (Luke 1:78-79). This line from Zechariah’s prophecy came true in the 1995 Rugby World Cup Tournament. The way of peace appeared, in an inspiring and instructive way.

This story shows that God and God’s ways cannot be conquered. Invictus. But it also reveals that human beings have an important role to play in working God’s purposes out. God rarely works in the world alone, but usually through flesh-and-blood human beings.

It is this entry of God into human life that we celebrate at Christmas, and that we are anticipating during Advent. God guides “our feet into the way of peace” through the example of Jesus, who was not afraid to enter into the pain and conflict of human life, and bring some light to a dark and sinful world.