Preaching and Teaching

Pastor, Western Presbyterian Church
Washington, D.C.
November 29, 2009

Text: Psalm 25:1-10

Two summers ago, I was asked to write some articles for a new biblical commentary on the lectionary texts. My assignment involved three selections from the Psalms. I found the task challenging because I usually don’t preach on the Psalms.

As I realized I don’t preach on Psalms, I also realized it is kind of odd because the Psalms play such a powerful role in my personal spiritual life. Twenty five years ago, when I went through a divorce, I discovered the Psalms for the first time, in a meaningful way, and read them on a daily basis. In those pain-filled days, the forlorn, bereft tone of some of the Psalms perfectly fit my mood.

As sorrowful as the Psalmists can be, they always express a profound understanding that their lives are in the hands of all-powerful and wise God. In times of crisis, there is something powerfully reassuring about such a knowledge. The Psalmists question but never doubt God exists. As followers of God, they freely and boldly express their anger, hurt, and confusion about what is happening in their lives; their search for meaning leading them deeper into the mystery of God’s love for the world.

At age 62, I find it a bit strange that I have never felt abandoned by God; never questioned God’s existence. I’m not sure why. But God’s presence is a bedrock fact of my spiritual life. With the Psalmist’s, I have cried out to God, “Why? What is going on here? I feel lost. I don’t know where I am going. Show me a way.” But as emotionally dead as I have felt a few times, I have never felt as though God is dead.

So the Psalmists, no matter how depressed or oppressed, were always filled with hope. After all, the very act of crying out to God is a statement of our hope in God. If we aren’t hopeful that God can help us, why would we bother to cry out?

Gratefully, my grief-filled days of 25 years ago have been replaced by a life filled with joy. Nonetheless, I continue to read the Psalms because of the spiritual kinship I feel with the authors of the Psalms and the integrity of their spiritual quest for God. So the lectionary assigned Psalm caught my eye this week.

The Psalmist takes us into the realm of shame, crying out, “O my God, in you I trust; do not let me be put to shame; do not let my enemies exult over me.” It is such a basic human request: “Do not let me be put to shame.”

According to one dictionary’s definition, shame is “the painful feeling arising from the consciousness of something dishonorable, improper, or ridiculous done by oneself or another.” Whether the cause of our shame is done by us or to us, the shame belongs to us and us alone. It is an intensely personal possession. Most of us hide our shame somewhere deep in our consciousness, never letting it see the light of day. It is as if to expose our shame would be shameful in and of itself.

And therein lies the problem. Hiding, burying, ignoring our shame gives shame its power. Pushed deep down inside us, shame becomes a spiritual cancer, slowly eating away at and destroying our ability to embrace who we truly are: loved, invaluable children of God.

Earlier this fall, I organized a small event that turned out to be among the best pastoral care classes I have ever attended. I asked two very skilled pastoral counselors, Rose Wayland and Western’s own Gary McMichael, to meet with a group of pastors and talk about how we pastors can most effectively respond to people going through the enormous stress flowing from our current economic crisis. It was an amazing two hours, in part, because of Gary’s identification of shame as a crucial response to personal problems—in particular, economic problems.

Gary explained that too often when we lose our job, can’t find a job or are stuck in a job, we blame ourselves. Even though the economy is in the tank, unemployment is at 10%, entire segments of the economy have virtually disappeared, we blame ourselves! As we blame ourselves, we begin to feel shame. “Why can’t I get a job? What is wrong with me?” we wonder. As we blame and shame ourselves, our sense of self-worth drains from the core of our being. Relentless and debilitating, our shame is real but totally inappropriate.

As I thought about what Gary taught us, I reflected on how inappropriate, unnecessary shame is generated by many different external forces, not just economic forces. Many individuals in the LGBT community have felt shame simply for being who God created them to be. Living in a society where heterosexuality was viewed and taught to be the norm, these individuals had to deal with their sexuality being labeled as deviant. To the extent they accepted that judgement, even slightly, the resulting sense of shame had a corrosive effect on their lives.

Many individuals in minority racial-ethnic groups have felt shame simply because they didn’t match the prevailing societal model of what a person was supposed to look and sound like. I had a friend whose father was an Italian immigrant back at the beginning of the 20^th century. He said his father was permanently damaged by his belief that there was something wrong with him because he was Italian and an immigrant—a belief he absorbed from a WASP-dominated culture.

At some level, the Psalmist understood the harmful potential of shame on our lives, crying out to God, “do not let me be put to shame.” The Psalmist knew that to descend into the realm of shame would be far worse than whatever caused the shame itself. And so the Psalmist asked God to spare him such a fate.

Clearly, there are some things of which we should be genuinely ashamed—but they aren’t our employment status, gender, sexuality, race or ethnicity. Rather, appropriate shame would be caused by us harming others or ourselves with actions or words. Not to feel shame when we hurt others is a problem in and of itself. A label none of us desires is “shameless.”

Bernard Madoff should be ashamed. Our nation should be ashamed of our practice of slavery and segregation. The church should be ashamed of its history of sexism, homophobia and cultural imperialism.

Indeed, an appropriate sense of shame can lead us to God, in search of forgiveness and cleansing we cannot find anywhere else. Feeling shame, we seek relief; relief we find in the arms of the loving God revealed by Jesus.

Whether our shame be appropriate or inappropriate, we need something external to us to heal this most internal of phenomena. Filled with appropriate shame, we can’t forgive ourselves in ways we need. Filled with inappropriate shame created by stuff society lays on us, we can’t affirm ourselves in ways we need. In both cases, we need God.

As we study Jesus’ life and ministry, we see a pattern: people came to Jesus for something. People wanted a new life. Some of these folks were plagued with health issues—mental or physical. Some were tired of leading lives with no direction or purpose. And more than a few who sought out Jesus were carrying around crippling shame—tax collectors working for an oppressive, hated government, a woman with a bad reputation, a Pharisee who used his power to his own advantage, so many different types of people all struggling with the same phenomenon—shame. Just as the Psalmist turned to God, they turned to Jesus in hopes that they could be relieved of their shame.

When famous people in this town do infamous things, they almost always surround themselves with some type of spiritual entourage—pastors, rabbis or someone else identified with God. When they do so, they are routinely mocked as spinning the public, being disingenuous. Maybe they are. But maybe they aren’t. Maybe the only One to whom they can turn is God. Caught in a shame-filled web of their own making, they realize only God has the power to release them.

In God’s redemptive presence, we encounter a Parental Power who loves and values us, especially when no one else does, especially when we don’t love and value ourselves. God’s grace-filled love can totally illuminate the dark place shame creates for itself in a corner of our souls. If we allow that to happen, that is the end of shame. For shame cannot stand the light of day, let alone the light of God’s love.

Given the role shame plays in our lives and the history of the world, both individually and corporately, we need to deal with it in better ways. How?

First, what not to do. When someone does something sinful, we cannot pile on ever greater doses of shame. If a person feels shame for shameful deeds, good. This is a healthy response. However, as Christians, we cannot pummel them with shame; otherwise shame will define who they are. We need to help them find God’s vision of who they are.

This isn’t easy because we will get criticized for helping such individuals reclaim their lives. Disgraced people are lepers. Everyone who gets near them gets tainted by their disgrace. It has happened to me more than a few times when I have befriended people who did something terribly wrong. But we really have no choice but to extend God’s love to these folks, no matter the potential cost to our own reputations. As Jesus said, we are not here to lift up the righteous. We are here to lift up those who have fallen on life’s roads.

Second, what to do. We need to listen carefully to the voices of people who tell us they are being covered with shame for no good reason. Courageous voices in the LGBT community have been saying forever that shame is being dumped on them for normal behavior; in some cultures, we see women shamed for something as natural as their menstrual cycle; we see people with disabilities shamed because they have a physical challenge; immigrants shamed for not speaking the majority language.

It is really outrageous. It is we, not they, who should feel shame. We need to stop telling people what they should be and listen to people describe who they are. When we do, we will gain a new appreciation for the breadth and depth of the diversity of God’s good creation.

In the season of Advent, we focus on being prepared for the coming of God into our lives. In Luke this morning, we heard Jesus say, “Be on guard so that your hearts are not weighed down with dissipation and drunkenness and the worries of this life, and that day catch you unexpectedly, like a trap.” Too often, in our efforts to heed Jesus’ advice, we focus on our behavior—things we do that are contrary to the Way a Christian is called to live. We think about how we need to be more open and less closed to others, more generous and less selfish, more forgiving and less harsh.

However, to be prepared for God’s coming, we can’t focus solely on behaviors. We have to work on what motivates our behavior. We become closed to others when we are motivated by fear. We are selfish when we don’t trust that God will take care of us like the lilies of the field and birds of the air. We are harshly judgmental when we fail to allow God to be the Ultimate Judge of what is right and wrong.

In preparing for God, the Psalmist reminds us that we need to deal with the motivation of shame. Filled with shame, our behavior becomes distorted and twisted as surely as the sun rises and sets. Until we allow God to remove the shame, it will cripple us.

So as we once again begin our sacred, beautiful pilgrimage to Bethlehem, let us bring our shame into the light of God’s love where it can be transformed from feelings of disgrace into the experience of being graced by God. If we do so, we will arrive at the manger as new creations, prepared to experience an innocence that casts a whole, new light on the world.

Let us Pray: Gracious God, you are good to us in so many ways. Thank you. Help us to understand the power of this feeling called shame. As we put our trust in you, lift from us its hold. May we, in turn, not cast shame on others. All this we ask in the name of our Liberator and Redeemer, Jesus the Christ. Amen.

Pastor, Western Presbyterian Church
Washington, D.C.
November 22, 2009

Text: John 18:33-37

The first church I served out of seminary was St. John’s Presbyterian Church in Houston, Texas. I was called as an assistant pastor with a specific focus on evangelism. As a recent graduate filled with a burning sense of call and all the energy and idealism of youth, I was even more obnoxious than I am today. Just be glad you didn’t know me then.

In those days, St. John’s had a tenor soloist who was, well, not any threat to Pavarotti. He sang with tremendous fervor. His voice didn’t make your skin crawl or ears hurt. But given the less than stellar quality of his voice, I wondered why he was featured so regularly in worship. One day I suggested to Maynard Smith, the head of staff, “Let Keith sing as part of the choir where he is great but not solos,”

Always patient with his opinionated, young protege who had a constant flow of ideas about how to do everything better in the church, Maynard told me about Keith. “John, have you noticed a person coming early to the church office every Monday morning? It is one of Keith’s employees. Keith owns the neighborhood hardware store. The employee brings us the first $100 that goes in the store’s cash register on Monday mornings. Years ago when he opened the store, Keith made a commitment that the first $100 goes to God as does a percentage of everything he earns the rest of the week. But no matter what he earns the rest of the week, the first $100 goes to God.”

I replied, “Oh.” Maynard was quiet for a minute and then asked me gently, “So, do you still want to ban Keith from singing solos?” For Maynard, the issue wasn’t that Keith was a big giver. It was Keith’s approach to life that made him a worthy musical leader in worship.

There was a day when Keith’s stewardship practice was fairly common. For generations, many people gave a percentage of their income to God. It was a simple, straightforward calculation and practice. Nothing flashy or fancy about it. Such tithing fueled much ministry in this nation and around the world.

However, like everything else in life, giving patterns have changed over the past forty or fifty years. If we look at the overall charitable giving in the U.S., I don’t think there are any signs that people are less generous. However, the reasons for giving and the manner in which we give have changed significantly.

To me, one of the most significant changes is what I call “value added giving.” Most people are no longer willing to give a percentage of their annual income to their church or charitable organizations simply because they did so last year. They want to give where their gifts make an impact, a significant impact. They want their giving to add value to the world.

At first, I was reluctant to endorse the notion. I was raised on the idea that we give first and foremost out of gratitude, not because we want to change things. However, I have grown to realize that there is nothing inconsistent with giving out of gratitude and value-added giving. We can do both. I still give out of gratitude. But I also want my gifts to make a difference.

Each of us has a multitude of opportunities to give. We receive requests to make a financial contribution just about every day—by email, phone or mail. How do we sort them out? How do we determine what is more worthy than the next giving opportunity?

Adding value is a very useful criteria. Where and how do I want to add value? These are helpful guides.

I have come to endorse enthusiastically value-added giving as a criteria for our giving to the church. Frankly, I think it is good for the church. Because maybe if we expected the church to add more value to the world, it would!

As the 20^th century progressed, mainline churches grew lazy. They knew their members would donate a certain percentage of their income for God’s work. As a result, the church really didn’t have to do God’s work to deserve those gifts.

So I and this congregation welcome some pressure from people who support this ministry. I want contributors to ask what we are doing and why we are doing it. It is an extremely healthy and focusing conversation.

What value does Western Presbyterian Church add to the world? How and where do we make a difference?

One way to answer the question is to consider how Western differentiates itself from other churches. What do we do that doesn’t necessarily happen in other congregations? If we can identify the differentiating factors, we will understand where we add unique value to our own personal spiritual journeys as well as those of others.

On this Sunday called Christ the King Sunday, I don’t think we differentiate ourselves regarding Jesus. Most churches call Jesus Christ the King. From our doctrine of God to our beliefs about the sacraments, Western’s theological approach is pretty standard fare. It certainly adds value to our lives but not necessarily uniquely so.

Yes, we put a progressive spin on our theology. We have a broad spectrum of beliefs about God and Jesus. But, for the most part, we don’t stray far from the farm when it comes to theology.

Every church attempts to educate its kids and adults, create an inspiring music ministry, have a strong benevolence budget and build a supportive community, including disciplined pastoral care. Western has strong programs in these areas but so do many other congregations. So while these programs certainly add value to the lives of our members, children and those we serve, they don’t make us all that unique.

We are unique in the demographics of this congregation. In a Presbytery where the average age of the members is around 60, our average age is around 45. Our uniquely multi-generational membership adds tremendous value to our lives.

We are unique in the length and intensity of our ministry with the homeless. No Presbyterian congregation has added comparable value to the lives of the homeless in this region.

Finally, we add unique value to the world by thinking through, acting upon and proclaiming several aspects of the theological tradition in which we stand. Most important, given our location, with John Calvin, we believe government to be a key instrument through which God builds the order required for peace and justice to thrive, the order needed for individuals to pursue their personal dreams and callings.

John Witte, a law professor at Emory University writes, “Calvinism (is) one of the driving engines of Western constitutionalism. A number of our bedrock Western understandings of civil and political rights, social and confessional pluralism, federalism and social contract, and more owe a great deal to Calvinist theological and political reforms.”

Calvin refused to declare any one form of government to be God’s chosen form of government. Democracy, monarchy or another form of government was not the issue, he said. Rather, good government is necessary, whatever its form.

Wrote Calvin, “So also I consider those as the most happy people, who are permitted to enjoy such a condition (where liberty is regulated with becoming moderation, and properly established on a durable basis); and if they exert their strenuous and constant efforts for its preservation and retention, I admit that they act in perfect consistence with their duty.” So a good government is not determined by its form (democratic, socialist, monarchy) but by its content.

I contrast Calvin’s views with the philosophy that has, with special intensity since the Reagan years, dominated political discourse in the United States. The temperate regulation of human behavior, far from being seen as a good, as Calvin views it, is seen by a growing number of our neighbors, on the right and left, as something ranging from problematic to evil. Everywhere we look, we see people whittling away at the source of our freedom—responsible, responsive, good government.

Why would Calvin argue that freedom needs to be regulated by government? His was a biblically/historically based theological assertion about humanity. Calvin believed human beings will inevitably and assuredly do selfish things—act in their own individual interests to the detriment of the interests of all.

It is hard to argue with him. Look at the greed that recently brought the world to the brink of economic catastrophe. Even many conservative economists admit that the ill effects of greed in the marketplace could have been limited by appropriate, effective government regulation. Look at the behavior of physically abusive parents. When parents fail to be good parents, society, acting through the government, needs to intervene to protect the kids. Look at civil liberties. When employers or governments deny us fundamental civil liberties, we need a strong good government to protect our rights.

Standing in this Reformed understanding of the relationship between God’s work and the work of government, we here at Western Presbyterian Church add absolute, irreplaceable value to our nation’s well-being. We refuse to allow the shrill anti-government voices denigrating, defaming and disparaging the role of government to go unchallenged, unanswered. In their place, we lift up voices from our theological tradition, including many of our nation’s founding parents, who had a strong commitment to good government as crucial to God’s plan for humanity.

Those who would reduce government to a tiny player in the human drama ignore Calvin’s fundamental insight into why government is crucial. Human beings do bad stuff. We do it all the time.

Bernard Madoff was left alone by federal regulators. As a result, he was able to rip off countless individuals and charities. Enron, Worldcom and other unscrupulous corporations were left alone to rip off their employees, customers and stockholders. Congressman Jefferson, from Louisiana, was left alone (for a while) to enrich himself using his government position. Without good government, the bad actors have the stage to themselves.

I know of no other faith tradition that takes good government as seriously as do we Presbyterians. For all the problems in our denomination, and they are legion, our theology of government is reason enough for us to declare with confidence that we “add value” to the world.

Specifically, Western Presbyterian Church keeps this tradition alive in ways that are rare even in Presbyterian circles. As members, you have created and support a pulpit, educational and programs and general ethos here at Western where commentary on the political, social, and economic issues of the day is expected and welcomed. I am often asked by other clergy, “How do you get away with regularly speaking on controversial issues at Western?” I respond, “I would get in trouble if I didn’t! Our members want today’s topical issues placed in a theological and biblical context.” To me, this is a key issue when I make decisions about where I contribute my money and time.

Today, we reached a milestone. For the first time in half a century, the membership of this congregation returned to more than 300 members. Since we keep a clean membership roll, that is a pretty solid core of people committed to supporting good government as an instrument to order society according to God’s will for peace and justice.

However, add to our membership the well over 1000 people who download our sermons from iTunes, visit Carol’s blog or subscribe to my email sermon distribution list and the impact and importance of this ministry grows exponentially. What we are doing here ripples far and wide. The people tuning in to Western’s running dialogue about faith and culture are decision-makers and opinion-shapers. As one example, I learned recently that the President of a prominent African nation reads my sermons as part of his Monday morning devotionals.

Our nation is at a crossroad. It is always at this crossroad. One road was laid by the founders of this nation. It is eloquently described in the opening lines of the U.S. Constitution, “We the People of the United States, in Order to form a more perfect Union, establish Justice, insure domestic Tranquility, provide for the common defence, promote the general Welfare, and secure the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our Posterity, do ordain and establish this Constitution for the United States of America.”

The other road leads to a place where government is scorned and despised. Today, this place is described on the web sites of groups such as the Tea Party Patriots where they say, “there exists an inherent benefit to our country when private property and prosperity are secured by natural law and the rights of the individual.” (Underline added by me)

There are strong forces at work in this nation that seek not a “more perfect Union” but the smallest possible Union; not domestic tranquility but a lack of domestic dissent; not the promotion of the general welfare but the promotion of personal property.

Giving voice to our theological tradition in the heart of this nation’s capital, Western Presbyterian Church proclaims that government is not a necessary evil but a divinely ordained instrument through which peace, justice and prosperity grow in this world. To promote this proclamation as well as the other dedicated ministry taking place here, I will continue, in the year ahead, to support this ministry financially and with every ounce of energy I can muster. I invite you to do the same.

Let us pray: Gracious God, we have been given a precious gift in the form of this ministry and the theological tradition in which we stand. Help us to hand on this gift to the next generation. Indeed, help us to give them even more than we were given. All this we pray in the name of the One who provides us with focus and faith, Jesus the Christ. Amen.

Pastor, Western Presbyterian Church
Washington, D.C.
November 8, 2009

Text: Mark 12:38-44

An unassuming widow inconspicuously climbed the stairs to the Temple and placed her offering in its place. As Jesus watched this scene, a smile slowly crept across his face until it was wide as could be, an enormous contentment filling his soul. For him, it was a magical moment filled with truth.

It wasn’t the size of the gift that brought Jesus such deep satisfaction. It was the woman’s belief that her contributions mattered that made him proud of her, proud to be part of this crazy human race. She almost defiantly refused to accept that she didn’t matter, that her contributions didn’t matter. She refused to believe she was insignificant.

From the perspective of most in Jerusalem, this woman, this nobody had nothing to offer anybody. Indeed, most people probably thought she was a burden on society. She was poor and a single woman, a double whammy in a sexist society. However, there she was, slowly moving up the stairs to the Temple’s treasury to add her two coins to God’s cause—proudly.

In contrast to the hundreds, even thousands, of coins some people contributed to the Temple, her gift might seem to be meaningless. Merged into the larger numbers collected that day, her two coins were like two tiny specs of sand in a desert. But she believed, she believed her contribution made a difference. And because she believed it, it was so. Her contribution did make a difference, such a difference, we are still talking about it two thousand years later.

There are so many things about Jesus that are compelling. His teaching was profound, his preaching inspiring, his healing transforming. He was fearless in the face of power, forgiving in the face of hostility, unyielding in the face of bigotry. He was gentle when gentleness was needed; ferocious when ferocity was appropriate.

But nothing is more compelling about this first century figure than Jesus’ ability to see things in people no one else recognized. He looked at an adulteress woman and saw the possibility of fidelity; at a despised tax collector and saw the possibility of a trusted church treasurer; at the two Marys and saw the possibility of two distinctly different styles of discipleship. After his death and resurrection, he looked at a group of his cowardly friends and saw future, courageous leaders who would become martyrs, if need be, for the church.

Where others saw the finite limitations of an individual, Jesus saw infinite possibilities. Where others were quick to dismiss little children, he saw the kingdom of God. Where many questioned the moral values of Samaritans, Jesus taught about a Good Samaritan. Oh yes, there is a reason we call Jesus fully human. He saw things in people no one else saw, saw potential that many people didn’t see even in themselves.

On Wednesday morning, Shenella told me there was somebody at the door who wanted to talk to me. These visits by people I have never seen before and will never see again have been divinely inspired interruptions of my day for 26 years here in downtown D.C. It is one of the reasons urban churches are so important. We are like an emergency room for spiritual crises. It is why I put my office on the first floor near the front door.

I asked the young woman to come to my office where she promptly began to cry. Her mother has lost her job. Her younger brother has lost both his job and apartment and is talking about suicide. Although she has a job, she has no financial extra resources to help either of them. She cried because she didn’t know how to help these two people she loves so much.

On the surface, it would seem she has little to offer her mother and brother. That is certainly what she was thinking. She can’t get them a job. She can’t house her brother since she lives in a house-sharing situation herself. She doesn’t have any money to lend them.

So we talked about what she could give them. We decided she can give them unconditional love, prayer support, and daily encouragement that they will survive this economic storm. It doesn’t sound like a whole lot. Does it? But neither did the two coins the widow gave to the treasury seem like much. As we thought of the many things she could give, the tears stopped, replaced by a vision of how she can make a difference in her loved one’s lives.

When we lose confidence that we can make a difference with our gifts, we lose confidence that we matter. When we lose confidence that we matter, we don’t matter. Lacking a sense of our own self-worth, our own power, we begin to pass up opportunities, thinking that the little we can do won’t change much of anything.

Whenever I talk to people about the beginnings of Miriam’s Kitchen, I explain that if anyone had said to us in 1983, “You need to feed 250 homeless people every day for the next 26 years,” we would have either run away to hide or howled in laughter. After all, Western was a tiny congregation whose membership was overwhelmingly retired people. We were challenged to meet payroll let alone embark on a major mission feeding the hungry. The naitonal and local unemployment rates were higher then than they are today. Asking us to feed the hungry was like asking that widow in Jerusalem to feed people for twenty-six years.

Fortunately, no one ever asked us to feed the hungry for 26 years. Instead, an angel named Jean Sirlouis appeared in our midst and said, “I have $5000. Can you use it to feed the homeless for the next six months of so?” We said, “Sure, we can probably do that.” And so we did. As we neared the end of six months, we began raising money to continue the program. The rest is history—twenty six years of history, twenty six years of mouths being fed and struggling individuals being loved.

There is a simple lesson to the story of the widow’s mite. If we give what we can give, do what we can do, God will take care of the rest. We don’t have to be able to give what it will take to get the job done. Just give what we can. If we do, God will supply the rest.

As God pulls our contributions together, the hungry will be fed, the naked clothed, the sick healed. Churches will be formed and grow; mission projects started and finished successfully; children taught Jesus’ life-shaping message. Such is the history of Christians for two thousand years.

It isn’t about giving what it takes. It is about giving what we can. God has what it takes.

During this stewardship season, we talk a lot about financial gifts to the church. Large, small or somewhere in between, they are crucial. We can’t pay salaries, utility bills or benevolence commitments without them. They are basic to the work of the church.

However, let us not focus solely on what we can give financially. There are other types of contributions each of us can make as well. We can usher, teach Sunday School, come an hour early and sing in the choir, help with congregational meals, serve on committees. We can go to the Food Bank, Calvary Women’s Services, or Miriam’s Kitchen with our mission committee. We can befriend a college student or someone in town for a brief stay. We can take meals to a member who is sick at home or a family who has just had a new child join them.

However, too often, we think, “What difference does it make if I do something like teach, sing in the choir or fix a meal for someone?” Well, it makes the difference of their being twenty rather than ten people in the choir loft; a larger group of teachers sharing the workload rather than a few teachers having to carry the work until they burn out; visitors being greeted by ushers rather than experiencing no greeting; college students perceiving this place to be friendly rather than one more place where college students are not welcome.

What we contribute, no matter how large or small, matters. This week we celebrate Veterans’ Day. It will be more solemn than usual because of the tragedy at Ft. Hood. The tragedy highlights the contributions soldiers make to our society. They don’t contribute solely on the field of battle. They contribute every day around the clock.

In our history, most American soldiers contribute only a couple years of their lives. In the broader scheme of things, that doesn’t seem like much. It is less time than we are in high school. But the military takes those two year contributions, pools and organizes them. It is then able to protect the country and responds to natural disasters at home and abroad.

Any contribution we make must begin with a belief that our contribution matters, makes a difference. This is why the model of the widow is so important. She may not have been a sophisticated thinker. But she had a highly sophisticated understanding of how God works. She knew her gift was as important as the next person’s because without everyone’s contributions, everyone contributing, God’s work can’t get done.

I spend a lot of time asking people to do something either here at church or in one of the community organizations where I work. It is a major part of my life. Some people are just too busy to say “yes” at that particular time and I respect that.

At other times, the response is, “Why me? What do I have to offer?” For some, this is just an excuse so they don’t have to do anything. When I sense that, I seldom ask the person to do something again.

But for many people, the “why me?” response represents a lack of self-esteem. I stay after these folks. I mean, even if we are desperate here at church, we don’t ask people to do jobs we know they can’t do or will do poorly. The only thing worse than no one in a job is the wrong person in the job.

At Western, we ask people to do things we know they can do. When we are invited to make a contribution, each of us needs to hear the affirmation that the person doing the inviting thinks we are capable of doing the job. If someone values us enough to ask us to do something, can’t we value ourselves enough to say “yes”?

We recently asked some new folks to join the worship committee. When I asked them why they accepted, they both said, “I was honored to be asked.” That is the right answer! We need to see invitations to contribute not as opportunities to fail but as an honor. People want our input, our voice, our energy.

I am convinced this is one of the reasons Jesus’ ministry and then the church’s ministry grew so rapidly. They went around asking people to contribute who had never been asked to contribute to anything. They asked slaves and women, Gentiles and poor people to assume important responsibilities in the church. The women and men who were asked, rightly felt included, embraced and valued.

Of course, in addition to not valuing what we can contribute, we also underestimate what someone else might give. Is there someone in our family who we have decided just isn’t responsible enough to handle something? Maybe if we gave them some responsibility, then worked with them to handle the responsibility, they would do beautifully.

Is there someone at work who we need to give a greater opportunity to contribute? Are we arbitrarily and prematurely shutting the door on people without giving them a chance to bring their two coins to the table?

I looked online at the various artistic renderings of this scene from the Gospels. I was really disappointed. For centuries, this strong woman has been shown as rather meek and mild. I think she was anything but.

The widow in this story knew who she was and knew she had something to contribute to the cause. She wasn’t embarrassed that her gift was humble. On the contrary, she was proud of giving what she could give.

Are we? Are we proud of what we can contribute to God’s work in the world, our families, workplaces and community organizations? I hope so. Because we should be.

Let us pray: Gracious God, you call us to serve. You call us to contribute our gifts to the greater good of building your realm of love, peace and justice. Thank you for this sacred calling. Help us to respond as we can and then trust you to do the rest. All this we pray in Jesus’ name. Amen.

Pastor, Western Presbyterian Church
Washington, D.C.
November 1, 2009

Text: Isaiah 25:6-9

For eight hours, they formed an endless parade to the witness table—some as individuals, some as couples. As they testified to the members of the D.C. City Council committee, they made one common plea, “Can we please just marry the person we love like everyone else? Can we marry our lover until death due us part?” It was excruciating to hear their individual and collective anguish. However, it was incredibly inspirational to see their love and courage.

As I waited to testify Monday evening, I sensed the power of the love flowing from these couples muted the tone of the same-sex marriage bill’s opponents. The bill’s foes weren’t as harsh as I anticipated. It is pretty hard to come right out and oppose love.

For the LGBT community, this bill isn’t a piece of legislation. It is a crucial piece of a dream. These women and men dream of the freedom to live the life heterosexuals have been free to live forever. They dream of a day when their sexuality will be no more and no less an issue than it is for heterosexuals; a day when they can apply for jobs without fear of facing discrimination; openly love and marry the people they love; parent children with full rights; be able to visit their lifelong partners in intensive care units. At least in this country, they are closer to realizing the dream than at any point in human history.

Dreams are the catalysts and guides for personal and social change. An addict dreams of sobriety. People growing up in poor, violent neighborhoods dream of a place where opportunity abounds and non-violence prevails. People in Iraq, Afghanistan and Pakistan dream of cities where bombs don’t explode in market places. People in Michigan, Ohio and California dream of jobs returning to their towns.

Dreams serve both as reminders of where we are going and refueling stations where we can refill our hope along the Way. When dreams are linked to effective implementation strategies, lives, nations and the world change. It is simply impossible to overstate the importance of dreams.

When our dreams are aligned with God’s dreams, our dreams aren’t fantasies. They are projections of what is meant to be, of what God wants and intends us to be.

We stand in a faith tradition filled with and led by amazing dreamers. Among the most profound was a man named Isaiah. As the son of Amoz, a member of Judah’s elite, Isaiah’s prophecies were not voiced from the fringe, the margins of Judah’s society. They were spoken from near the seat of power.

Looking from the inside out, Isaiah observed the people of Judah and Jerusalem putting their faith in anything and everything except God—military power, political alliances, and personal wealth. He was not alone in his opinion. Hosea and Micah joined Isaiah in the 8^th century as prophets who criticized Judah’s behavior and values.

In a society filled with mistaken priorities, Isaiah called on his people to trust in God and God’s dream for us. The passage we read earlier is among the most powerful and poetic of Isaiah’s prophecies. He talks about God destroying those things that separate humans and nations one from the other.

In my favorite verse, Isaiah writes, “Then, the Sovereign God will wipe away the tears of all the faces and the disgrace of the people, God will take away from all the earth.” Every time I am reduced to tears by something, I remember these words. Every time I feel as though I have disgraced myself, my family or the church, I remember these words. Each of us, all of us need the dream of a time free of tears, of a world not ruled by our sometimes disgraceful thoughts and actions.

We live in a time when it is hard for many of us to dream.

• Our nation has resorted to multiple wars and torture as a response to the terrorist attacks of 9/11. What happened to our dream of being a light to the nations?
• Our financial sector has engaged in the most reckless form of investing and many of us invested in them in hopes of getting rich. What happened to our dream of an economy that creates opportunity for all?
• Our society acts as though we can pollute the planet, our food supply chain and bodies without suffering any adverse consequences. What happened to the dream we see on display in our national parks, the dream of a protected, respected creation?
• Too many churches have become a breeding ground for homophobic, xenophobic and misogynist behavior. What happened to our dream of being the Body of Christ in the world
• Too many of our universities act more like profit centers than centers of higher learning. What happened to the dream of educational institutions being the place where our young people learn great values?

When our dreams are compromised by wayward human and institutional behavior, it is tough to dream.

However, at such points in history, more than ever, we need to revive not discard the dream. We need to dream more passionately. This is what Isaiah did. The selfish behavior of the people of Jerusalem didn’t cause him to decide God’s dream for the world is illusory. It stirred him to remind his neighbors of the importance of God’s dream.

Given the sometimes tragic and disillusioning events of daily life, keeping the dream alive is most definitely a challenge. But those who continue to dream in the face of history make history.

Good biographers help us understand how people keep their dreams alive even as they work through massive barriers that stand between them and their dreams. As we read of others, we are inspired to work through the barriers that stand between us and our dreams.

Alexander Hamilton was born illegitimately in the British West Indies. His father abandoned him and his mother shortly after his birth. At age 11, his mother died, leaving Hamilton an orphan. He was adopted by a man who, within a year, committed suicide. As an illegitimate child in the West Indies, Hamilton was denied an education by the Episcopal school. He ended up being tutored in the Jewish community.

How does one overcome that type of childhood? By pursuing a dream, I would suggest. While his life became connected to the American dream, Hamilton’s dream was much more personal. He dreamt of overcoming all the adversity life had thrown in his path. He envisioned himself one day being a respected member of society. He not only realized his dream but has remained an influence on our nation to this day.

Few of us face the barriers Hamilton faced. However, we do face barriers. When I am talking to people who are struggling in life, a key part of my job is to help them reconnect or reconsider their dream.

Two parents have a dream of their child being a high achiever. But, for many different reasons, their child isn’t achieving what they had anticipated. Do they stick with the dream and push their child somewhere the child doesn’t seemingly want to go or maybe is unable to go? Do they modify the dream and allow the child to develop at her own pace, find his own way? Or is there another option?

And what about the child? Maybe the child’s indifferent performance in school is rooted in the lack of a dream. I know I had little incentive to achieve as a kid because I didn’t really know who I wanted to be or who I was. Once I got a handle on that issue in my mid-twenties, I excelled in academia.

An individual dreams of being the star of the show. But after decades, it is clear that he isn’t going to be the star. She doesn’t have the skill set, luck or whatever.

Does this person continue to pursue the dream? Some people have done it and made it. Why shouldn’t she? Or does this individual decide to be a less prominent member of life’s cast, working behind the scenes to make other people stars? Many people have found great meaning in non-starring roles.

So reconsidering or reconnecting with the dream is a crucial part of being happy and effective in life.

Of course, dreaming a dream doesn’t make it come true. We think of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. as helping our nation dream about being a society dominated by a person’s character, not color. However, he was also a master tactician. As such, he surrounded himself with individuals who knew how to manage the dream, transform it into reality.

Too many people have dreams with no real strategy about how to make them happen. As a result, they either give up on the dream or begin to doubt themselves.

As we pursue our dreams, we usually need to make mid-course corrections. Some of you will remember that, back in September, I preached a sermon on taking better care of our health. The dream of which I spoke is the dream of a healthy lifestyle, of being physically fit. As part of that dream, personally, I had a dream of losing 20 pounds.

Two months later, I have to admit that the definition of me being fit has been somewhat challenging to nail down. Two months ago, I thought it involved me losing 20 pounds. However, as I got close to losing 20, I realized I had set my target a bit low. My doctor told me from the beginning that it was too low but what does he know? Now having lost 30 pounds, I realize my target continues to be a bit low. So I have to lose some more. But, recalibrating the dream as I go, every week I am getting closer to realizing the dream.

Reconsidering and reconnecting to the dream, changing tactics and goals as we move toward the dream, doing whatever it takes to realize the dream, they are all essential to success. As a nation, one year ago, we voted, in part, to make our health care system accessible to everyone. That is the dream. Getting to our dream is consuming a lot of time, energy and money. Why is this surprising? Why are people getting so discouraged?

There are many, complicated reasons why we haven’t had a more accessible health care system in this nation. Slogging our way through these reasons, one at a time, all at the same time, is going to involve heated debate. With something this complex, we are having to slog through them over and over again until everyone is on the same page. But unless we work through the disagreements, unless we are flexible about the steps needed to realize the dream, it won’t be realized.

Moses had to deal with some pretty rowdy town meetings in the Sinai Desert. Moses even started questioning God and wondering why he ever accepted the mantle of leadership. But the dream of a Promised Land prevailed. Such is the power of a dream.

In the Gospel lesson this morning, a scribe came to Jesus and asked him which is the most important commandment. Jesus famously replied that there are two important commandments—love God and love our neighbors. The Scribe agreed. In effect, they agreed on the dream and the means by which it is realized.

Jesus’ closing words to the Scribe were sublime. He said, “You are not far from the kingdom of God.” Neither are we.

When I was in college, derogatory, bigoted language about gays and lesbians was an everyday occurrence, even in the most progressive of circles. Who would have thought, those forty short years ago, that, in 2009, the City Council of the nation’s capital would have a hearing in which hundreds of LGBT folks would step forward to testify that they have a right to be married? Who would have thought the City Council will pass a bill to that end? No one, that is who.

God’s dream for humanity is bigger than bigotry, bigger than greed, bigger than war mongers. It can’t be stopped. And, as Jesus suggested, we are not as far from the kingdom of God as most would suppose.

If the dreams we have for our lives aren’t working, don’t give up dreaming. Maybe the dream needs to be rethought. Maybe it needs a new implementation strategy. Maybe it needs to be replaced with a new dream. Maybe we need to work harder or differently to make it happen. But without a dream, God’s dream, guiding our lives, we will be very unhappy, unfulfilled individuals and people.

May each of us dream wild, magnificent dreams with God—for our personal lives, for our nation, for the world. May we then pursue them with the passion and persistence dreams deserve and demand.

Let us Pray: Inspiring God, continue to fill us with dreams—dreams of a life filled with joy and meaning, of a world filled with peace and justice. As we move forward, give us the courage we need to dream in the face of discouraging events. All this we pray in Jesus’ name. Amen.