Mountain Movers

Tomorrow is the story of the transfiguration (Matthew 17), when Peter, James and John went to the mountain top with Jesus and he was so completely filled with God’s light and love that he literally shone. And God’s voice was heard, “This is my Son, whom I love; with him I am well pleased. Listen to him!”

I find what follows in the scripture to be fascinating. A man begs Jesus to heal his son. He had brought him first to the disciples, but they weren’t able to provide a healing. When we think of Jesus getting angry, we usually think of the time in the temple, when he overturned the money changers. But Jesus is pretty livid here, and this time the focus of his anger isn’t those outside his social circle. This time, his anger is directed at his own disciples. In the Message version, Jesus responds saying, “What a generation! No sense of God! No focus to your lives! How many times do I have to go over these things? How much longer do I have to put up with this?”

It is only after Jesus heals the boy and he and the disciples move on to be by themselves that the disciples finally get up the nerve to ask, “Why couldn’t we heal the boy?”

Imagine yourself a disciple. Imagine having walked all through the Judean hills and valleys learning from Jesus, wanting to know still more because clearly you’ve missed something. How would you feel if Jesus answered your question by saying, “Because you’re not yet taking God seriously. The simple truth is that if you had a mere kernel of faith, a mustard seed, you would tell this mountain, “MOVE!” and it would move. There is nothing you wouldn’t be able to tackle.”

We are the disciples of Jesus. We are the ones Jesus is speaking to. We are the ones God is wanting to move mountains.

Are you ready to move mountains?

This is the question that is held before you and me as followers of Jesus every single day. When we rise in the morning, God has an expectation of us. There are needs within our churches and communities that only you can respond to. Do you have the right stuff? It doesn’t take much, only the faith the size of a mustard seed.

I have been a church goer and a pastor long enough to know that oftentimes we don’t focus on what’s really important to God. We care more about the number of people in the pews than the state of their souls. We treat our churches like museums rather than triage centers, where wounded people can come for healing and not worry that they are messing up the feng shui of the place. We worry more about filling in all the bodies needed for the nominations report than what the people who inhabit those bodies are called to do in the world and whether or not we are equipping them to go do it.

We don’t make the main thing the main thing. We allow ourselves to get distracted by the small stuff. But God doesn’t call us to the small stuff. God calls us to the things that are crushing, bruising, damaging God’s beloved children. God is calling us to make a difference in the world. To move mountains, not molehills.

You and I know what is going on in our world. We see the needs around us. We know that there are people in our pews whose homes resemble battle fields. We know there are people in our churches and communities that struggle with demon addictions. We know that poverty is taking a terrible toll on those around us. We know that schools don’t need armed teachers, they need teachers that are armed with enough money so that they don’t have to buy the basic supplies for their classroom instruction.

But do we possess faith, yes, even the smallest amount of faith, to respond to the needs, hurts and hungers of our world. Do we believe we can move mountains?

St. Teresa of Avila reminds us:

Christ has no body now on earth but yours; no hands but yours; no feet but yours. Yours are the eyes through which the compassion of Christ must look out on the world. Yours are the feet with which He is to go about doing good. Yours are the hands with which He is to bless His people.

We are called to move mountains. God expects nothing less of us. May our faith strengthen us, inspire us, and move us, so that we can usher in the Beloved Community God desires of us.

TO LOVE BOLDLY

I confess, my heart is troubled. The political posturing in our country has reached a new level of incivility and I fear for the nation we are becoming. White nationalism has been paraded on the public stage and given a new level of validation. The teachings of Jesus have been distorted and discarded in the unholy name of political power and expediency.

In times like this, we need to bring in the moral compass of Christ to the public square to reset political policies and discourse.

Jesus tells all who follow him:

“You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, so that you may be children of your Father in heaven; for he makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the righteous and on the unrighteous. For if you love those who love you, what reward do you have? Do not even the tax collectors do the same? And if you greet only your brothers and sisters, what more are you doing than others? Do not even the Gentiles do the same? Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect. (Matthew 5:43-48 NRSV)

We who follow Jesus cannot opt out of the command to love, even those we consider our enemies.

Love doesn’t mock those with whom we disagree, nor does it demean, belittle, or bully, because love makes us aware that these things dehumanize others and fracture the human family.

Love doesn’t create borders or barriers that separate “us” from “them”.

Love demands us to go to the margins and begin to build structure and policies from that starting point.

Love always asks, “who is being harmed and what must we do to relieve the suffering”?

Love doesn’t fear those who are not familiar but delights in difference, knowing that these differences help us see the face of God more clearly.

Love puts us on a permanent quest for right relationships.

Love is the opposite of fear.

Love isn’t a naïve or weak orientation. It takes tremendous strength, courage, and humility to walk in the world grounded in love’s imperative.

If you find your heart breaking over the state of the world, may you drink from the reservoir of God’s grace so that you might find Love healing your heart and guiding your feet to challenge the world’s inequities and injustices.

If you are afraid because the comfort you are experiencing might be disrupted, may the Holy Spirit trouble placid waters and in the ripples created may Love help you discover that your welfare is intimately tied to the welfare others.

If you would rather turn away from the state of things, may Christ continue to be a disruptive presence who will tap you on the shoulder and say, “Come, follow me.” As you step into His footsteps, may Love grow in your heart and may it spill into the world, providing a transforming experience for all you encounter.

Love is the only way. May we live it boldly.

The Church Has Left the Building

This week, I spent a couple of days with students and faculty at Candler School of Theology. On the day I was preaching, a student took me to the chapel. I had never seen such an unusual worship space design. The student saw me taking it all in and said, “It was designed to look like a train station.” When I cocked my head, he continued, “You know, to remind us that we are just passing through.”

I don’t know if this was the seminary equivalent to an urban legend, but his comment has stayed with me all week: “…to remind us that we are just passing through.” What an important thought! So often we think of the church building as the place we “do” our faith. We grow attached and even sentimental about the place (just see what happens when it’s time to change the carpet or move the altar!). We fail to see this sacred space for what it is supposed to impart to us: strength for this journey of faith and life.

The church building is the place we come to connect with others as we seek to deepen our love of God and neighbor. But we don’t leave behind all that we have received along with our nametags when we exit the building! We are to take that love into the world!

We come to church for spiritual fuel, for healing, for comfort, for strength, for connection. It is the well we journey to but don’t stay at. It is the altar we recommit ourselves before but then leave to live out that commitment in our everyday lives. It is a train station where we receive notification of where we are to go next.

I love church buildings. Whenever I travel, I love stopping in churches. I am mindful that for centuries these sacred spaces have helped the faithful lead fruitful lives that blessed others. My prayer is that tomorrow, when you sit in your special sanctuary, you will also remember the lesson from I Corinthians 3:16: “Don’t you know that you yourselves are God’s temple and that God’s Spirit dwells in your midst?” May this equip you to be a blessing to everyone you encounter throughout the rest of your week.