Holding on to Jesus

In the Gospel of John, after the resurrection of Jesus, Mary is in the garden.  She mistakes Jesus for the gardener, but finally recognizes him.  Here is John 20:16-17:

Jesus said, “Mary.”  Turning to face him, she said in Hebrew, “Rabboni!” meaning “Teacher!”

Jesus said, “Don’t cling to me, for I have not yet ascended to the Father. Go to my brothers and tell them, ‘I ascend to my Father and your Father, my God and your God.’”

The last time I read that passage, back in March, I wrote in my journal, "How do we need to let go of Jesus?"

How do we hold on to Jesus when we shouldn't? 

Maybe we hold on to incorrect preconceptions of Jesus? Maybe we hold on to Jesus, demanding forgiveness or grace when it has already been given? Maybe we hold on to Jesus out of anger against someone else, hoping Jesus will "bring us justice."

Is there a way that you hold on to Jesus that you need to stop? 

 

Recognize Jesus?

In Sunday school one day, the teacher asked a question. It was off-hand, and I think she was expecting that everyone would say, "no."

Would you recognize Jesus if he appeared today?

One person in the class answered that she would certainly recognize Jesus.  She is a person with special needs who has an intellectual age in the high elementary range.  I thought her answer was beautiful. It makes me think that she knows Jesus so well that she couldn't help but recognize him.

Would that we could all answer yes to the question.

 

The Measure of our Mind

 

In church on Sunday we sang the hymn There's a Wideness in God's Mercy (UMH 121).

The third verse reads:

For the love of God is broader

than the measure of our mind;

and the heart of the Eternal

is most wonderfully kind.

I love the idea that the love of God is broader than the measure of our mind. We cannot understand or even grasp a little bit how much God loves us - it is beyond the measure of our mind. God loves us more than we can understand - all of us.

It occurs to me that if the love of God is bigger than we can understand, then God, as well, is bigger than we can understand. We should remember that in our certainty about God. When we claim we "know" something about God, then we are not speaking out of humility. To think we understand God, or can speak for God, is arrogance.

God is more than the measure of our mind can grasp.

The Christian Ideal

 I'm reading Francis Collin's book, The Road to Wisdom: On Truth, Science, Faith, and Trust. I've just started the chapter on faith. 

Collins quotes G.K. Chesterton, who said, "The Christian ideal has not been tried and found wanting . It has been found difficult; and left untried." I read that, and though about the reaction people would have if I made that a Facebook post on my page. I think just about everyone would agree with it, no matter how their faith journey is moving. I think they would almost all (not everyone, but many) would think, "Yes, that's what the other side is doing. They have given up on (or are ignoring) the teachings of Christ.

I think this response - to judge others for something we should examine in our lives - is hypocritical.  And it is not lost on me that I am doing it right now! I think a statement such as Chesterson's isn't meant to provide us with more ammunition to battle each other, but instead should be a moment of self reflection. It should be a yardstick against which we should measure our own thoughts and actions - not others'.

Surely we wouldn't say we have found the Christian ideal wanting.  Have we tried the it and found it too difficult?  Or have we completely failed to try it at all? And I don't mean that other guy.  I mean you and me.

Gather us in

Last Sunday in worship we sang the song Gather us in. In the lyrics are the lines:

Give us a heart so meek and so lowly

Give us the courage to enter the song

As I was singing the song, questions came to my mind.

• What is the song? It reminds me of the song The Lord of the Dance.  I think the song and the dance are the same. The song is the work of the kingdom of God, maybe.
• Why do we need courage?  What are we afraid of? What area we always afraid of? Loss of control? Loss of comfort? Failure? I included line just before the line that caught my attention because I think it speaks to this question. A meek and lowly heart would give up control and comfort. It would give us the courage to enter the song.

May we do so.  Gather us in - gather us all in.

 

At the Funeral

I attended a funeral today. In one of the family pews, there was what I imagine was a father, mother, young daughter and her older brother.  You know (and maybe you don't do this) how when you watch people in the park or the airport, you can make up stories about them? This is what I did at the funeral

I watch the mom and her two children.  The son (older child) was very upset, so she picked up her daughter, who was sitting between them, and put her on her lap so that she could move next to the son to comfort him.  The daughter didn't like that, and moved off her mom's lap to sit in the space in the pew where the mom had been.  When the mom tried to put her arms around both of the kids, the daughter picked up her mom's arm and moved out from under it.  This continued for a while with the mom hugging the daughter, the daughter hugging back, and then moving away (and looking away) from her mom. 

It reminded me of the story of the older son in the prodigal son parable.  The mother was trying to provide comfort for both children, but one of them seemed to be resentful to share the mom's attention with the other sibling.

Please remember, I know what I thought about the family isn't real - it's a story in my mind. 

 

Lord of the Dance

 

I was watching Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Part 1.  There is a scene in the movie where Harry and Hermione are alone in the tent.  They are sad and afraid, and I think to make them forget their worries for a few minutes, Harry leads Hermione into a spontaneous dance. It’s a sweet scene between friends as they step (dance) away from what haunts them for just a few moments. As I watch it, I always wonder how they know how to dance together. Harry twirls Hermione, and she know which way to spin.

I wonder that because I’ve had an experience a little like that on an Emmaus walk. There is a time after dinner when everyone celebrates all that has happened so far. Sometimes, on some walks, team members will dance with pilgrims or other team members.  I was a team member, and one of the servers put out his hand to dance. I accepted, but I was terrible - I don’t know how to follow, and I certainly didn’t know how to twirl - in which direction - like Hermione did. 

And yet I follow the Lord of the Dance. How do I do that when I don’t even know how to follow? Maybe that is one of the ways I AM to follow. The Lord of the Dance knows how to lead and how to help me to know how to follow. Even when I twirl the wrong way or step on my own feet. He IS the Lord of the Dance. 

Always a great day?

A donor called me the other day to talk about his accounts. I not sure why he thought I sounded down, but he said, “Are you having a good day?”  I assured him I was (and I was truthful - it was a fine day).  He told me that I should remember that every day is a good day because God is in it.

I talked to him a few days later, and he told me the same thing.

I’ve thought about those conversations since then.  Is every day a good day because God is in it? Don’t get me wrong - I think God is in every day, and there is a certain goodness in the day because of that, but there are days that are terrible.  Horrible.  There are days that are blah. There are days that are sad or lonely.

God is in all of them, and God brings us through the terrible, horrible, blah, sad, and lonely days as well as the good ones. It seems to me that calling every day “good” can ignore the truth of the day. Sometimes acknowledging the truth of the day pulls back the curtain for us to see and experience God.

I’m ever so thankful for the days where the presence of God is real and visible in the greatness of the day. And I’m grateful for the presence of God when the day is lousy.  

 

Perspectives: And Know

 This is one of the banners from General Conference.  "...and know that I am God" was the theme of the Conference.  All good.  The person on the banner strikes me as weird - as if he is saying "And know that I am God." Not at all what was intended.

However, how often do we pick up that role? How often do we say with our actions or thoughts "And know that I am God."

Metaphor and Simplicity

Reading from Richard Rohr's book, Preparing for Christmas: Daily Meditations for Advent, I read this:

"Religion can only use the language of metaphor because we are pointing to transcendent things."

We certainly experience the use of metaphor in the Bible when we read the stories (parables) of Jesus, don't we? What about the creation story? Revelation?

I think it is important to notice the necessity of metaphor and to recognize it.

Do we really believe that God and God's kingdom are simple enough for us to understand if we just read the Bible? Do we think that is the case? Don't we recognize that it is so much more complicated than that? God does what God can to help us to see what God needs us to see, but even so, our minds and experience are so much less than God's - don't we believe that metaphor can help us to "see through the mirror" a little more than without?

And, with that said, I think we need to learn to recognize metaphor when we see it. If we take passages of the Bible literally - without the consideration that they could be metaphor - we do a disservice to the Word of God. Words have a purpose, and I believe we need to understand the purpose before we can understand the meaning.

If we think we have it figured out, we can rest assured that we do not.

 

The Next Person

West Virginia is the home of the Summit Bachtel Reserve, a Boy Scout adventure center.  This year is was the home of the National Scout Jamboree.  At the event, the scouts volunteered to assembled flood buckets.  Russell Smart, a national program chairman for BSA was quoted in an article in United Methodist News:

“The last thing I tell them is, ‘Okay, when you put the lid on the bucket, the next person who picks up that bucket is not going to be having a good day,’ ” Smart said. “ ‘And you’re never going to know who is going to open that bucket. You’re not even going to know when it’s going to be opened. You’re not even going to know where it’s going to be opened, but the person that opens that bucket — the first thing they’re going to see is who made it happen. … So you won’t know them, but they’re going to know you. And they’re going to say a thank you, that you were there for them on the day they needed you.’ … That’s why we call it service and impact.”

We don't always get to see the impact of what we do, but we can imagine "the next person" - the one who is facing a home filled with flood damage, opening a flood bucket.  We can imagine "the next person" who has a meal because we have provided food, or a place to sleep because we have contributed to a shelter. We can imagine the abused family who has a moment of safety in a abused women's shelter, or the recovering addict who can stay clean another day, or the lonely widow who has a friend at church - "the next person."

 

Science and Faith

Has science affected how we approach the topic of God? How so, or if not, why not?

 

I think for some, science is seen as a threat to faith. For example, if science hypothesizes that the world was not created in seven days, and I believe that the world was literally created in a week, then science is a threat to faith. If this is true, then I can’t admit that any science might contain truth.

 

As a person who was trained as a scientist, I see science as a descriptor of the work of God. I don’t need to protect my faith from science – I can see the work of God in the theories of science.  My faith tells me of God, and of God’s character.  Science is more of a technical study.  For instance, when comparing the stories in Genesis and the theory of evolution, I can hear the truth in the Bible that God created the world and God declared it to be good. In science, I might see some of the how, but the Genesis truth gives it meaning.

 

Frederick Buechner's said that comparing words of science and faith is like comparing the work of a podiatrist to that of a poet. A podiatrist would describe fallen arches, and the poet would describe how a woman walks in beauty. Both are true - but which you choose depends on the truth you are looking for.

Course: Methodist Identity: Beliefs

 

Essential to Faith and Disagreements

Below are two questions from Week 1 of the Methodist Identity: Beliefs course.

What beliefs do you see as essential to Christian faith, and why? By what measure is a belief made "essential"?’ 

I believe God is the creator of everything that is.  God’s character is love – a love we cannot understand and can only begin to experience.  God is not a God who creates and abandons.  God is involved in God’s creation, every day, all the time.  That involvement does not remove the will of God’s creation, for if it did, we could not love.  In God’s love, God sent Jesus, his son, and himself, to us to show us who God is – the infinite nature of God’s love. Through the son we learn that forgiveness, mercy, and grace are real and are for all of us. Through the son we learn how to live, here on earth, and there, in heaven. God remains with us as the Holy Spirit, and through the spirit, as an example of God’s continuing grace, we can communicate with God, and are made whole. God’s body on earth is the church – the union of God’s creation, sharing God’s gifts to demonstrate God’s love to all. 

 

A belief is essential to Christian faith when its removal would change the revelation of the essential nature of God. I think I “judge” this most often as the big picture of the bible. It’s often only seen in small pieces in individual verses – a single verse doesn’t provide a complete picture. When I consider what makes a belief essential, it is those beliefs that define that “big picture” of God.

How much doctrinal disagreement is permissible, or should even be encouraged? Explain.

 

John Wesley preached, “But as to all opinions which do not strike at the root of Christianity, we think and let think.”  This does not mean that we don’t have common beliefs or a shared doctrine, but our doctrine is limited to essential beliefs. I think doctrinal disagreement is unavoidable. Our Methodist doctrine arose from the beliefs of the church, but that doesn’t mean we all have identical beliefs, the same interpretation of doctrine, or complete agreement on those things outside of doctrine. Doctrine arises from challenges, so disagreement can help us in the refinement of our beliefs – healthy discussions can be a means of sanctifying grace, bringing us closer to God. God, and God’s gift of faith to us is strong enough to not only withstand disagreement but also to be strengthened by it. We are meant to be thinking Christians.

 

All of that said, there are those doctrine that are the root of Christianity. We can certainly disagree about them, and discuss them, but as a church we have decided they are essential.

 

Refuse to See

I'm reading a book by Julie Salamon called Rambam's Ladder: A meditation on Generosity and Why it is Necessary to Give.  In it, she tells a story of riding the subway with her daughter.  She is seated next to two young, white men and an older black man with a cane.  An elderly couple is also riding the train, "and they didn't appear to be all that hardy." 

Salamon asks the two young men sitting next to her if they would give their seats to the elderly couple.  The two men glanced at the older couple and ignored them.  The older, seated man, started to stand up.  "Not you," (Salamon) said.  "I meant them," and pointed at the other two men.

The men looked perplexed, but finally stood up for the older couple to take a seat.  Having seen what had happened, another woman said, "Bravo....It always amazes men when they do that....Refuse to see."

Salamon, in her experience, thinks it is the most privileged who are "the most insular."

I know there are times when I do that - refuse to see.  Maybe I walk to the other side of the street, or I hope my car doesn't get stopped next the man with the sign asking for money, or ignore the people standing on the train who could use my seat.  It's easier on my selfish side if I refuse to see. 

Don't you think refusing to see is harder on our spiritual side? On our growth toward perfection? I need to open my eyes more. 

 

Certainty and Doubt

A few Sundays ago, I preached a sermon based on the "Doubting Thomas" passage of scripture in John 20:19-31.  The sermon's message was about faith - how faith is more than belief in doctrine, but is trust in God. I worried about the sermon which didn't go in the direction I would want a "Doubting Thomas" sermon to head - that doubt is OK, and is part of our faith. I don't think it was a sermon that said the opposite of that - that doubt is wrong, but I'm not sure it was affirming of that, either - because that wasn't its purpose, but still....

I'm reading Wholehearted Faith, written by Rachel Held Evans with Jeff Chu and published after her death in 2019.  I've always loved her books, but have put off reading this one because - well - because I miss her, and I knew this book would in some ways, make me sad.  But I picked it up last week, and it's wonderful so far (and makes me a little sad).

Today I read this:

"Those who believe that they believe in God, with without any passion in their heart, without anguish of mind, without uncertainty, without doubt, without an element of despair even in their consolation, believe only in the God-Idea, not in God Himself," wrote the Spanish novelist and intellectual Miguel de Unamuno.  In other words, certainty isn't faith. And faith is marked by the humility to let yourself question - which is not a shortcoming but an acknowledgement of one's humanity.  Implicit in that assessment is the conviction that God makes room for our questions and for our humanity, that God is not some legalistic taskmaster, but instead the source of grace.

If I had read this chapter even a couple of weeks earlier, I probably would have included this quote.  It not only fits the message of the sermon - "certainty isn't faith" - but also gives the assurance that doubt it an integral and integrated part of faith.

This is part of how we love God with our whole mind, I think.

 

An Adventure with Your Name on it, Part 4

This post is the final post in a series from a sermon.  It began on April 24.

Harkness also says that our faith will lead us on courageous adventures.  Faith means that we are willing to count the cost, and then take the risk anyway.

There was a story told at John Lewis’s funeral that really struck me when I heard it. In the 60’s, John Lewis was a leader in voting rights advocacy. Selma, Alabama is in Dallas County. The population of Dallas County was more than ½ African American, but only 2% of the voter roll was. John Lewis felt a call to open the doors of equality, and one of the ways to do that was to work for voting rights.  On February 18, 1965 in Alabama, rising racial tensions had resulted in bloodshed when state troopers had clubbed protesters in nearby Marion and shot a 26-year old to death. On March 7, John Lewis led what was planned to be a 54-mile march from Selma to the state capitol of Montgomery.  The March began at Brown Chapel African Methodist Episcopal Church, and then crossed the Edmund Pettus Bridge – a bridge named after a Confederate General who was also a grand dragon in the Alabama Ku Klux Klan.

 

As he prepared for the march, John Lewis packed a backpack with an apple, an orange, a toothbrush, toothpaste, and two books. He lost the backpack during the march, and he ended up being knocked to the ground by a state trooper and beaten in the head with a nightstick – multiple times – so badly that they fractured his skull.

 

He had packed a backpack because he thought the march would result in his arrest, and that he would end up in jail. In 1963 he had said, “We do not want to go to jail. But we will go to jail if this is the price we must pay for love, brotherhood, and true peace.”  He packed a backpack because he knew the cost – and he marched anyway.

 

God called John Lewis to work for freedom and true peace.  God calls you by name on a courageous adventure, too. Will you move forward, even when you know the cost?

 

Harkness explains that this kind of faith – trusting in God enough to reorder our lives and to move forward on a courageous adventure, aware of the cost, results in an awareness of saving help - an awareness of the power of God at work in our lives.  Let’s go back and visit Courageous Thomas again. In his doubt, what he needed to know is that this resurrected Jesus who can walk into a locked room was actually the Jesus who had died three days before – the Jesus who had taught them, led them, loved them. He needed to see the wounds to know that these were the same person. And what did Jesus do? Jesus provided Thomas with what he needed.  Courageous Thomas left that room not only knowing that the Jesus he had walked with was now resurrected, but also that God would provide what he needed – saving help.

 

Nineteen years ago, Scarlett and Fred Kellerman were at an event at their church – Lewisburg UMC – when the facilitator asked them “What is God calling you to do?”  Scarlet said, “Start a mission project and help people.”  The facilitator asked, “What’s stopping you?”

 

The created Wellspring of Greenbrier. A few months ago, 10 years later, as they were retiring, Scarlet said, “We keep in mind what Jesus asks us to do – to build his kingdom here on earth. Giving food, drink, clothing, freeing those who are imprisoned by addition and poverty. We do this for God and with His help. We could never have done this without the Spirit here.”

 

God calls us by name, and when we step out in faith, reordering our lives in trust, even though we know the cost, God will walk with us, providing what we need, providing saving help.

 

Your name is Beloved. God is calling you on a courageous adventure. On this day that feels like the aftermath of a great party, when Easter is over, when the trumpets are packed away, and the certainty of faith feels more amorphous, and we are wondering what to do, will you step out in faith, and answer your call?

 

An Adventure with Your Name on it, Part 3

This post is the third in a series from a sermon.  It is continued on May 3, 2023.

Earlier this year I participated in an online course called Women Speak of God.  It was an examination of six women throughout Christian history whose words and lives have spoken – and still speak to us – about God.  One of the women we studied was Georgia Harkness.  She was a 20^th century Methodist Theologian who lived from 1891 to 1974. She taught in the field of theological studies for almost 40 years, and she wrote prolifically about doctrine, devotional practices, and social issues.  According to what I read about her, she worked toward institutional justice for women and laypeople and passionately against the injustices of segregation, violence, and the use of atomic weapons.  Her writings about faith really intrigued me, and much of what I want to share with you today is from her writing.

 There are many in the room who could probably recite the beliefs we share as a church if I phrased it beginning with the words, “I believe in God the Father Almighty, maker of Heaven and Earth, and in Jesus Christ his only son our Lord, who was conceived by the Holy Spirit, born of the Virgin Mary.  Is this belief what makes us a Christian?  No.  Belief and faith are not the same thing.  Faith is not agreeing to the truth of a statement – faith is something else – something more. 

 

First, Harkness says, faith is a positive trust – a willingness to place one’s life in someone else’s keeping.  It all comes down to this – it is NOT if we believe God exists. Faith means we TRUST God with our lives. I think churches around the world have many members who proclaim the existence of God, but that belief makes no difference in their lives.  We think atheism means not believing in God, and it does, but the bigger issue in churches is practical atheism.  Harkness says it like this: “The basic atheism is unwillingness to commit our lives to God’s keeping, callousness to God’s demands, the ordering of life as if God did not exist.”

 

The writer of the book of Hebrews said, “Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.”  By God’s free gift of loving grace, by Christ’s incarnation, death, and resurrection, we are forgiven, we are saved, we are transformed from what we were before to people who are moving on to perfection in love. God’s Holy Spirit is in this room with us, right now, and will leave this place with us – will proceed us in our day. This is the assurance of things we have hoped for. Do you believe it? To you trust in God so that you order your life around it? Do you hold in your heart the conviction that like Jesus, you too are called Beloved?

 

Many years ago, when I was a child – and I suppose I was taught this – I would end prayers with “thy will be done.” I remember praying that my great-grandmother would get well, “thy will be done” – but she didn’t.  She died.  It was many years, maybe even more than a decade – before I could use that phrase again.  It wasn’t until I came to the conclusion that I could trust God enough to trust that God’s will was loving and kind – truth worthy.

 

Maybe you think that only people like Terry, or Mark, or other people who carry the title “ordained” are called to ministry.  Maybe you doubt that God has a ministry for you to do. How do I assay this nicely? You are wrong.

I truly believe, and I want you to trust this – that God is calling your name for something. Will you hear God’s call and order your life around answering it? Will you trust God enough to answer God’s call? This is faith.

An Adventure with Your Name on it, Part 2

This post is the second in a series from a sermon.  It is continued on May 1, 2023

The scripture today is from John 20, verses 19-31. 

¹⁹ When it was evening on that day, the first day of the week, and the doors were locked where the disciples were, for fear of the Jews, Jesus came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you.” ²⁰ After he said this, he showed them his hands and his side. Then the disciples rejoiced when they saw the Lord. ²¹ Jesus said to them again, “Peace be with you. As the Father has sent me, so I send you.” ²² When he had said this, he breathed on them and said to them, “Receive the Holy Spirit. ²³ If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven them; if you retain the sins of any, they are retained.”

²⁴ But Thomas (who was called the Twin), one of the twelve, was not with them when Jesus came. ²⁵ So the other disciples told him, “We have seen the Lord.” But he said to them, “Unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands and put my finger in the mark of the nails and my hand in his side, I will not believe.”

²⁶ A week later his disciples were again in the house, and Thomas was with them. Although the doors were shut, Jesus came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you.” ²⁷ Then he said to Thomas, “Put your finger here and see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it in my side. Do not doubt but believe.” ²⁸ Thomas answered him, “My Lord and my God!” ²⁹ Jesus said to him, “Have you believed because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe.”

³⁰ Now Jesus did many other signs in the presence of his disciples that are not written in this book. ³¹ But these are written so that you may continue to believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that through believing you may have life in his name.

I think the structure of this passage is interesting.  It has two parallel stories with an interlude in the middle.  In the first one, the Disciples, without Thomas, are gathered in a locked room and Jesus joins them – it didn’t matter that the room was locked.  He shows them his hands and his side – the wounds.  The disciples rejoiced, and Jesus breathed the Holy Spirit on them and sent them out. 

 

They tell Thomas what has happened – “We have seen the Lord” - Did they say, “We have seen the Lord? Or did they say, “WE have seen the Lord!” (and you didn’t). Anyway, Thomas doesn’t believe them.

 

In the second, parallel half, almost the same thing happens – The Disciples are in a locked room, this time with Thomas, and Jesus comes in to the room.  He then responds to Thomas’s disbelief by providing what Thomas needs – to look at the wounds (just like before).  Thomas is convinced.

 

Thomas gets a new name – Doubting Thomas – or at least that’s what we call him.

 

Names are important, aren’t they? They identify us. My name is Kimberly Ann Brown Matthews.  Of course, I picked up the Matthews when I got married, but my name has not always been Kimberly Ann. For three days, after I was born, it was Terry Lee.  That was the name my parents decided to use – or maybe just my dad – because when I was three days old, Dad walked into the hospital room, and said, “Hi, Terry Lee.”  Mom told him that was not my name – she had changed it.  I wonder what I would have been like if my name had stayed Terry Lee.

 

Abram and Sarai received new names from God – Abraham, and Sarah.  Simon became Peter when Jesus renamed him, telling him he would be the rock on which the church would be built. If you remember the resurrection story from John, it was when Jesus said “Mary” that Mary Magdalene recognized him.  In some ways, we see Jesus with an additional name at his baptism – God’s spirit descended over the water, and a voice said, “This is my Son, the Beloved.”

 

We call Thomas “Doubting Thomas,” but Jesus didn’t. Jesus called him Beloved.  Jesus came back to the locked room, and provided what Thomas needed, and then, just like the other disciples, Thomas was called to faith.

 

I thought this Sunday after Easter – when the party is over and the trumpets are silent - would be a good time to talk about faith, and what difference it makes.

 

You do have a name in addition to the one your parents gave you. You are a follower of Christ – you are called a Christian.  What does that mean? 

An Adventure with Your Name on it, Part 1

This post is Part 1 of a sermon that will be continued on April 26.

Steve and I really enjoy the movie Apollo 13 – it’s one of our favorites. If you haven’t seen it, go fix that.

Anyway, the movie begins on July 20, 1969. That is the day that two astronauts from Apollo 11 – Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldren – first walked on the moon.  Jim Lovell, who was head of the backup crew for Apollo 11, threw a party that night for other people in the program so that they could watch the moon landing together.  Everyone is gathered in his living room, sitting, standing, laughing together as Walter Cronkite narrated the event from the television. There was champagne and snacks, friends gathered.

 

Do you remember the first moon landing? In the movie, you can feel the awe and anticipation as Armstrong steps onto the surface of the moon, and says those now famous words – one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind.

 

After the party, the scene cuts to the Lovell’s backyard.  Jim is in a lounge chair, looking at the night sky, and his wife, Marilyn, is walking in the backyard, looking at the mess from the party, dragging a bag of trash, overwhelmed by the detritus of the big event.  She says, “I can’t deal with the cleaning up – let’s sell the house.”

 

I think this Sunday, today, feels a little bit like that.  Last Sunday, we were here, celebrating the resurrection of Jesus. There were tulips lining the aisles. There was music – every good party needs great music – we had trumpets and trombones. We had a great meal together – communion – and we sang Alleluia.  Christ is Risen, Indeed!

 

Today, though, it feels more like the aftermath of a party.  The meal is gone, even the crumbs have been swept away. The flowers are still here, but the chairs are stacked up, and the trumpets are back in their cases.  We’re singing a song we’ve never heard before. Not as many people got up early enough to come to church, and we don’t even have our regular pastor to preach.

 

Christ is still risen, but what are we going to do about it? Last week, we celebrated – we could almost feel the presence of Christ, and we were strong in our faith. This week, it doesn’t feel like that. Do we even believe it all happened?

Role of a Creed

In my Women Speak of God class, we read an examination of the Apostles Creed by Susanna Wesley.  You should read things written by her - she was a wonderful theologian.

Do formal creeds matter? In my opinion, a creed or formal statement of faith has several roles.

1. As Susanna Wesley noted, the creed is a summation of the faith we find in the scriptures.  To be able to “boil it down” to a creed is helpful in teaching our faith as well as reminding all of us what is in the faith.
2. The creed, when it was written, can be a way that those at the time stated – formally – what they believed.  It gave them an opportunity to clarify for themselves and for those who were to come what was the common, orthodox set of beliefs.  Because of that, when we repeat a creed, we are reminded of the faith of those who came before; it is their legacy of faith to us – and us to those who come after us.
3. I think a formal creed succinctly reminds us of what we believe and has the potential to move us to action.  “If I believe this, then my actions should show it.” 
4. A creed can be a uniting factor in a church.  Pause for a moment during the next time you are asked to recite a creed in worship.  Listen to the words of those around you surround you with words of faith.  We are a church, a body of Christ, stating together our common beliefs.  I believe creeds have an important role in our church.