June 17 sermon: Father Jesse

Then Samuel left for Ramah, but Saul went up to his home in Gibeah of Saul. Until the day Samuel died, he did not go to see Saul again, though Samuel mourned for him. And the Lord regretted that he had made Saul king over Israel. The Lord said to Samuel, “How long will you mourn for Saul, since I have rejected him as king over Israel? Fill your horn with oil and be on your way; I am sending you to Jesse of Bethlehem. I have chosen one of his sons to be king. But Samuel said, “How can I go? If Saul hears about it, he will kill me.” The Lord said, “Take a heifer with you and say, ‘I have come to sacrifice to the Lord.’ Invite Jesse to the sacrifice, and I will show you what to do. You are to anoint for me the one I indicate.” Samuel did what the Lord said. When he arrived at Bethlehem, the elders of the town trembled when they met him. They asked, “Do you come in peace?” Samuel replied, “Yes, in peace; I have come to sacrifice to the Lord. Consecrate yourselves and come to the sacrifice with me.” Then he consecrated Jesse and his sons and invited them to the sacrifice. When they arrived, Samuel saw Eliab and thought, “Surely the Lord’s anointed stands here before the Lord.” But the Lord said to Samuel, “Do not consider his appearance or his height, for I have rejected him. The Lord does not look at the things people look at. People look at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart.” Then Jesse called Abinadab and had him pass in front of Samuel. But Samuel said, “The Lord has not chosen this one either.” Jesse then had Shammah pass by, but Samuel said, “Nor has the Lord chosen this one.” Jesse had seven of his sons pass before Samuel, but Samuel said to him, “The Lord has not chosen these.” So he asked Jesse, “Are these all the sons you have?” “There is still the youngest,” Jesse answered. “He is tending the sheep.” Samuel said, “Send for him; we will not sit down until he arrives.” So he sent for him and had him brought in. He was glowing with health and had a fine appearance and handsome features. Then the Lord said, “Rise and anoint him; this is the one.” So Samuel took the horn of oil and anointed him in the presence of his brothers, and from that day on the Spirit of the Lord came powerfully upon David. Samuel then went to Ramah.

(1 Samuel 15:34-16:13)

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     I’m going to begin today by being a little bit personal. For most of my life Father’s Day meant basically nothing to me. You see, I never knew my father – not even for a day that I can remember. Nor do I have any fond stories that I was told about him that I can hang on to. The truth of the matter is that I do not know – I have no idea – who my father was. Family lore has it that my father abandoned my mother when she was pregnant with me and then died shortly thereafter. No one has really told me any more than that. All families have secrets, I suppose. That’s my biggest family secret. It’s so secret that I don’t even know the whole truth. So when I was growing up whenever there was anything to do with fathers and sons I felt pretty much pushed to the sidelines. I remember that when I was little and learning to skate my mom took me to the rink and helped me tie my skates as tight as she could, when a kind man I had never met came over and said something like “I hope you don’t mind me saying, but his skates need to be tied tighter than that,” and he proceeded to take over for her. I never saw him again but I remember him helping. I was a kid long enough ago that schools still had “father-son” days. Which always left me wondering: “so what am I supposed to do?” Sometimes a friend’s dad would sort of let me latch on for the day, but – you know – it was kind, but it wasn’t the same. It made me a bit of an outsider for a lot of things. And Father’s Day? It was just a Sunday in June to me. It meant school was almost over. Otherwise, it had no meaning. Sometimes I’d be encouraged to buy a card or a gift for an uncle who was a part of my life, but – again – it wasn’t the same. Back in the 1970’s that was a really strange way to grow up, because that was largely an era when “family” was still thought of as mom and dad and 2 kids and a dog. I didn’t even have a dog – never mind a dad! I’m not asking for pity or sympathy. It’s just the way it was. That was my life. It was natural to me. And I was 41 years old before I became a father. That was 41 years of my life with “fatherhood” meaning very little to me. When I became a Christian in my mid-20’s the image of God as “Father” was intriguing. For those who don’t like masculine images for God, it’s just really important for you to understand that for some of us that image of God as “Father” has significance for what it represents and for what it tells us about what a father should be – regardless of how often earthly fathers may fail. And when I became a father – when Lynn and I adopted Hannah – I didn’t say it but I was terrified as we were preparing to travel to China and as we were waiting to receive her. All of a sudden this little girl – this life – was going to be my responsibility! I knew nothing about being a father or about fatherhood. Absolutely nothing. What if I couldn’t do it? That wouldn’t just disappoint me – it would be devastating to her.  What if I destroyed her life? Yes - I had that image of God – but I was painfully aware that I was not God. So I had to do a lot of “on the job learning” so to speak. I’m certainly not perfect by any means, but to my relief I think I’ve done OK. Now, as I said, I’m not trying to make anyone feel sorry for me. I’ve had a pretty darn good life surrounded by people who love me and shown grace by a God who loves me and (regardless of how anyone else feels about the masculine imagery) who is my Father. And probably because of my background biblical stories about fathers intrigue me.

     Our Scripture passage today isn’t really about a father or fatherhood, I suppose – although there is a father in it. Jesse, the father of the future King David, appears in this story, but he isn’t the centre of the story. When we discuss this passage we usually take one of four approaches: why God expresses regret about having chosen Saul as king (didn’t God know how that would turn out?), Samuel’s mistake in assuming that the king would be chosen based on the outward appearance of who looked most impressive, God’s insistence on looking inside a person rather than on their outward appearance, or David’s anointing, which identified him as a future king of Israel. All of those are worthy topics to think about, and as a result Jesse kind of gets lost and doesn’t really get much attention here. In fact, Jesse doesn’t get very much attention anywhere in the Bible. He appears in a couple of other stories in 1 Samuel, there’s a reference to him in Isaiah and then he appears in the New Testament, mentioned as an ancestor of Jesus and that’s about it. He’s David’s father and Jesus’ ancestor and that’s all that seems to matter. In a way he’s not unlike Joseph, the earthly father of Jesus, who appears and then just disappears. But Jesse seemed a relevant figure for us to think about today. It’s Father’s Day, after all – and Jesse was a father. We may not know a lot about him, but it’s worth thinking about him.

     I’ve heard people say that their fathers were their heroes. Maybe that’s true – but I’m not convinced that being a hero is the point of being a father. Jesse doesn’t appear to have been a hero. He appears, he disappears. The point of the story – the point of his role in the entire biblical story - the importance of Jesse – isn’t Jesse himself: it’s Jesse’s legacy. Jesse raised eight sons we’re told, and so impressive were they that it took a while for Samuel to figure out which one was the chosen of God. All of them were apparently possibilities. Jesse had done a good job. He had raised a good family. He didn’t get the glory, but his role was absolutely vital. Without a Jesse there would have been no David – and I’m not just talking biology. Without Jesse’s example and nurture and care there would have been no David able to take up the reigns of being king of Israel, and ultimately no Jesus to take up the reigns of being the King of kings.

     Ken Norton – who at one time was the Heavyweight Champion of the World – once said that “of all the titles I’ve been privileged to have, ‘Dad’ has always been the best.” Perhaps the point of what he’s saying is that – as Jesse’s story makes clear – there are a lot of things a person could do that might bring them fame and glory and prestige and power. Being a father is NOT one of those things. Nor is it supposed to be. Being a father is about setting an example, and it’s about being there for those who need you. Ephesians 6:4 gives some very specific instructions to fathers: “… fathers, do not provoke your children to anger, but bring them up in the discipline and instruction of the Lord.” You could sum that up by saying that fathers are to treat their children with fairness, with justice, with kindness and with love. That’s what makes the relationship a precious one; that’s why “dad” is what Ken Norton called “the best title.”

     Not everyone here today is a father – just as for most of my life I wasn’t a father. But all of us can learn from the example of a Jesse or the words of Ephesians 6:4 or the feelings of Ken Norton. Whether you’re a father or a mother; a brother or a sister; a friend or a neighbour – as a Christian live in such a way that you show others the “discipline and instruction of the Lord.” Be an example of God’s love and grace to all whom you encounter. You don’t know the legacy that might leave, or how many people that  might touch.

June 3 sermon: From "Me" to "You"

“Beware of practicing your piety before others in order to be seen by them; for then you have no reward from your Father in heaven. So whenever you give alms, do not sound a trumpet before you, as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and in the streets, so that they may be praised by others. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward. But when you give alms, do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing, so that your alms may be done in secret; and your Father who sees in secret will reward you. And whenever you pray, do not be like the hypocrites; for they love to stand and pray in the synagogues and at the street corners, so that they may be seen by others. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward. But whenever you pray, go into your room and shut the door and pray to your Father who is in secret; and your Father who sees in secret will reward you. … And whenever you fast, do not look dismal, like the hypocrites, for they disfigure their faces so as to show others that they are fasting. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward. But when you fast, put oil on your head and wash your face, so that your fasting may be seen not by others but by your Father who is in secret; and your Father who sees in secret will reward you.

(Matthew 6:1-6 & 16-18)

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     We all have a survival instinct – and thank goodness for that! If we didn’t none of us would be here today. If we didn’t have a survival instinct we’d walk in front of buses and jump off of tall buildings and do various and sundry other dumb things because we wouldn’t care what the consequences would be. It might very well be the survival instinct of the human race that has (so far at least) prevented us from blowing the planet up with the obscene amount of nuclear weapons we have all over the world. Survival instincts are important. They kick in at a time when the most important thing is for us to think about ourselves and our own well being. That’s not a selfish thing – it’s natural; it’s a part of who we are, and without it humanity probably woudn’t exist today. Even Jesus had a survival instinct. He yearned to live. He displayed that in the Garden of Gethsemane on the night before he died when he begged his Father to “take this cup from me” - in other words, to release him from facing the prospect of his death on a cross. So survival instincts are natural. But sometimes they have to be overcome because there are times when we have to put our focus on others – on the needs around us rather than on the needs within us; times when we have to think of “you” instead of “me.” We see many examples of that as well. Fire fighters and police officers and soldiers often have to overcome their own survival instincts and risk their lives for the sake of a cause or for the sake of someone else. Jesus may have wanted to live, but in the end he submitted himself to the plan of God and he went to that cross. So the survival instinct is natural, but it doesn’t have to control us or dominate our thinking. We can overcome it. In fact, if we really want to follow Jesus and be effective at sharing the gospel, then we have to. We have to make that shift in our priorities from “me” to “you.”

     That’s a real challenge for the church these days. I don’t mean just us – but the church in general. Attendance and finances and just the work involved in keeping a congregation going are becoming big challenges for most churches these days. Sometimes we become a bit myopic and we start to think that these are only problems that we face and that everybody else is doing just fine. It’s a classic case of “the grass is always greener on the other side of the fence.” But the truth is that churches are struggling these days. And the temptation because of that is for us to start looking inward and to focus only on taking care of ourselves; only on meeting the budget; only on keeping the doors open. The church’s existence becomes an end in itself, and the call of the church to spread a gospel of life and hope to others gets lost in the shuffle of trying to make sure we survive. I’ve always thought that from a Christian perspective there was a great irony to that. It was, after all, Jesus who said (to paraphrase) that those who try to save their lives will lose their lives, and that those who lose their lives for him would gain true life. Another way of putting it might be to say that struggling for the sake of mere survival is a losers’ game. And I”ve often found it strange that a church that professes faith in a Lord who was raised from the dead is often so terrified of death. In a book called “Searching For Sunday,” the American Christian author Rachel Held Evans wrote that “death is something empires worry about, not something gardeners worry about. It's certainly not something resurrection people worry about.” The church has become so accustomed for centuries to being “empire” - to being the dominant force in society; to possessing power – that many church people have no idea what to do now that the church is increasingly on the margins and has little power. But Evans may be right – perhaps we’re called to be gardeners. Jesus often used that kind of imagery to illustrate our purpose – planting seeds and watering them and helping them to grow. And as resurrection people, we don’t need worldly power, because resurrection is the greatest power! So we need to avoid the temptation to become consumed by our own circumstances to the exclusion of others.

     Having said that, though, while we may have to move beyond our survival instinct, it’s OK for us to do self-care. Our passage from Matthew 6 today in a way was Jesus telling his disciples to do some self-care along with what we do for others. He did speak about “giving alms” - which means giving for the sake of the poor; something we do for others – but he also spoke about “practicing piety” (being concerned with how we live our lives,) praying (being concerned with how we’re connected to God) and fasting (remembering the connection between our bodies and spirits, and how both connect us to God.) Those three things you might call Christian self-care. And there are things we do for the church, as well. As Christians who practice our faith through a particular congregation, we have to care for that congregation; we have to be concerned for its well-being. There are things we do that are “for” the congregation.

     So we give our time – because without people willing to make a commitment to do the things involved in the life and work of this congregation (both the administrative work and the more spiritual and mission type work work) that congregation can’t survive. Without people, we’re nothing – and we only have people if those people give some time to the church and makes the church a priority rather than an afterthought. So this congregation needs some of your time. And so we give our money - because without people willing to make the commitment to support our ministries in a material way we cannot keep doing the things we’re doing. (I know – “money” the word we’re not supposed to speak about in a sermon, but I bet the members of the Finance Committee are quietly nodding their heads and saying “preach it, pastor!”) So this congregation needs some of your money. And so we offer our prayers – because without people willing to remember and hold this congregation in their prayers we’ll be able to do nothing, because ultimately our power to live out the gospel in a society that often doesn’t want to hear the gospel and is sometimes even hostile to it comes from the Spirit of God, whose power we access through prayer. So this congregations needs some of your prayers. I’m pretty sure that Jesus would agree with the idea that offering those three things is vital for any disciple of his. But, ultimately, still – it’s not for us.

     If we need those things for the church to survive then we need to ask ourselves why it’s important for the church to survive. A question that I sometimes ask is what would be lost if we didn’t exist? Who would notice if we weren’t around anymore? If you look at the Announcements section of this week’s bulletin you’ll find that just in the next seven days we’re going to be hosting a Foot Clinic, a Clothing Boutique and a service in which we’ll offer our support to Karanda Hospital in Zimbabwe, and we’re going to take a special offering today for the Benevolent Fund and we’re asking you to remember our Food Boxes if you can. That’s five things in one bulletin stretching out over the next seven day period that reach out and directly touch the lives of others. You see, once we’ve done our self-care, we don’t stay there. Even if, for a little while, we choose to focus on “me,” moved by the Spirit of God, we then change our focus to “you.” We look inward for a while to let God empower us to focus outward – because that is ultimately the call of the church: to reach out, to touch and care for and heal others; to love the unloved and to welcome into our midst the marginalized.

     Tommy Douglas – a few years ago named by CBC as “The Greatest Canadian” (a former Premier of Saskatchewan and leader of the CCF/NDP and an ordained Baptist minister) – once said that

“we are all in this world together, and the only test of our character that matters is how we look after the least fortunate among us. How we look after each other, not how we look after ourselves. That’s all that really matters, I think.” 

     This was what Jesus did up to his dying breath on the cross. This is what Jesus asks us to do as his church for as long as we have life to do it.