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Submit Your Own! Sermon, January 22, 2012, 1 Corinthians 7:29-31, 3 Epiphany B By David von Schlichten Sermon on 1 Corinthians 7:29-31 for St. James Evangelical Lutheran Church, Youngstown, PA with Sunday January 22, 2012, Third Sunday after the Epiphany, with the Reverend Dr. David von Schlichten (word count: 892)
The Present Form of this World
1 Corinthians 7:29-31 is a weird passage. It says that, if you have a wife, you should be as if you do not have one; if you are grieving, be as if you are not grieving; if you are rejoicing, then be as if you are not rejoicing; if you buy possessions, be as if you do not have possessions; and if you deal with the world, be as if you have no dealings with it. Why should we be this way? Because the present form of this world is passing away. What does all that mean? For instance, I have a wife. What does it mean to be as if I do not have one? I’m not going to ignore my wife, pretend I’m not married. That cannot be the right thing to do, especially considering that, elsewhere in the Bible, including in 1 Corinthians 7, we learn that a husband and wife are to honor and care for each other. What does the rest mean? What does it mean to live as if you are not grieving when, really, you are? That doesn’t sound healthy psychologically. If you feel grief, you should not bury that or deny that but express it somehow. Likewise, it does not sound healthy to deny your rejoicing. The whole passage seems to advocate denial, and generally denial is unhealthy. As Dr. Phil says, “You can’t fix what you don’t acknowledge.” Denial is usually unwise, so why is this passage from 1 Corinthians 7 telling us Christians to be in denial? Or is it? Actually, the passage is not really saying that we should live in denial. It would not make sense for us to ignore or deny our spouse, grief, joy, possessions, and the world. We Christians are not to hide from the world. Jesus certainly did not. He did not cocoon himself from the world. No, he walked around, taught people, healed people. He was not in denial or hiding from the world’s joy, grief, possessions, and ways of the world, and neither should we. He was not in denial when he endured the cross so that we could live forever for free. We the baptized are not to be of the world, but we are still to be in the world. So if we are not to be in denial, if we are not to hide from the realities of the world, then what is this passage telling us to do? Eugene Peterson suggests that the passage is teaching us to live simply. When the passage says be as if you don’t have a wife, or be as if you are not grieving or don’t have possessions, the passage is not saying live in denial. It is saying live simply. Do not let anything or anyone get in the way of your devotion to God. Not your spouse, not your grief or joy, not your possessions, nothing. Devotion to God is to come first. For example, we all like to buy nice things for ourselves, and doing so is not necessarily bad. But let’s keep in mind that God is to come first, and part of putting God first is helping people in need. So when we buy some nice possession, we are to ask ourselves, “Am I putting stuff before God? Could I put my money to better use? Are there people in need whom I could help instead of spending money on something that I don’t need?” We are to put God first. Simplify our lives, focus on God. Simplifying our lives is easier said than done, isn’t it? How can we simplify our lives so we can be more God-focused? I confess, I have a difficult time simplifying my life. If you have suggestions, I’d love to hear them. According to 1 Corinthians 7:29-31, why are we to simplify our lives? Because the present form of this world is passing away, that’s why. What does that mean, the present form of this world is passing away? It originally meant that Christ was coming back any minute. They believed that back then, that Christ was returning at any second. Many people today believe that Christ is about to return, and he may be. The present form of this world is passing away. The present form of this world will pass away ultimately at the end, when Christ returns, but the present form of this world passes away in other ways, too. For instance, when we read the Bible, we encounter the wisdom of God that pushes aside the world’s shallow, clanging foolishness. When we gather for worship, we do not ignore the world, but the violence and heartbreak of the world move to the back seat as we receive strength and assurance from God. When we remember our baptism and receive the body and blood, the rest of the world shrinks away. When we send each other cards, bake for each other, volunteer to help each other, listen to each other, the present form of this world loosens its grip, loses some of its power, passes away, even if just for a whisker of a second. We simplify life. We put God first, and watch the present form of this world retreat before God’s light. And then we go into the world to help those who are stuck in the darkness. Sermon for January 8, 2012, Matthew 2:1-12; Mark 1:9-11 By David von Schlichten Sermon on Matthew 2:1-12 and Mark 1:9-11 for St. James Evangelical Lutheran Church, Youngstown, PA with Sunday January 8, 2012, Epiphany/Baptism of Our Lord, with the Reverend Dr. David von Schlichten (word count: 877)
The Star Leads the Wise to God
Nobel Prize-winning writer T.S. Eliot wrote a poem entitled “Journey of the Magi” about the wisemen traveling to see the baby Jesus. In the poem he imagines the hardships of the wisemen as they follow the star for hundreds of miles. In the poem, one of the wisemen says, “’A cold coming we had of it, / Just the worst time of the year / For a journey, and such a long journey: / The ways deep and the weather sharp, / The very dead of winter’ . . . / And the night-fires going out, and the lack of shelters, / And the cities hostile and the towns unfriendly / And the villages dirty and charging high prices: / A hard time we had of it. / At the end we preferred to travel all night, / Sleeping in snatches, / With the voices singing in our ears, saying / That this was all folly.’” (lines 1-5, 13-20) Can you imagine traveling by camel hundreds of miles through weather hot and cold, towns friendly and hostile, feeling excited and then weary, eyes on the star burning in the sky? Have you seen the star that leads the wise to God? Have I? We are the baptized. At our baptism, God drowned us free from eternal death. As Luther says in the Book of Concord, baptism “. . . works forgiveness of sins, delivers from death and the devil, and gives eternal salvation to all who believe this, as the words and promises of God declare.” At his baptism, Jesus receives the Holy Spirit, the Father declares him the Beloved Son, and his journey to the cross, his ministry of salvation, begins. Likewise, when we are baptized, we receive the Holy Spirit and God declares us a beloved child. Baptism is adoption. The voice of God declares you and me to be God’s special, adopted children, the communion of saints, heirs of eternal life. We receive eternal life for free because of Christ’s death and resurrection. The star, the light of God, can appear to anyone, but the light of God definitely appears to the baptized. We are transformed, and with that transformation we receive a calling from God. The Bible repeatedly teaches us that God shines the holy light upon us to lead us. That star, which is from God, leads you on a journey closer to God, empowers you to grow holier. Where does the star appear? What does it look like? How do we follow it? One way the star appears is through the Bible. Now, reading the Bible is an arduous journey. Sometimes Christians talk as if the Bible is this easy, user-friendly, handy-dandy guide to life. That’s baloney. The Bible is a healing light, but it is not easy, user-friendly, or handy-dandy. Like the long journey for the magi, studying the Bible is difficult. However, like the long journey for the magi, studying the Bible is rewarding. Through the Bible, God does shine the star, the light, upon us and does call us on a difficult but illuminating journey. “OK, Pastor Dave, I get it. The star shines upon us through the Bible, but I don’t have time. And I don’t know where to begin. The Bible’s a big book. Where do I start?” There are a couple ways. One way is to buy one of those books that takes you through the Bible in a year or six months or whatever. Another way is to attend one of our Bible studies. A third way is to start with the book of Psalms or one of the gospels. The Psalms are actually fairly user-friendly, touching, and instructive. They are also pretty short, so you can usually read one a day fairly easily. Spend some time with the Bible at least three times a week. The Spirit will shine the light on you. How else does God shine the star on us? God does it through sermons. Even if the sermon is boring or the preacher is annoying, the Holy Spirit uses preaching to provide guidance and comfort. Through the sermon, the star shines and leads you on a journey to growing in God. How else does God shine the star on us? God does it through holy communion. When you receive the body and blood, God is shining the star upon you to strengthen you in holiness. God also shines the star upon us through each other. My friend Tracey was just telling me that her teenage son Josh wanted to start going to church. She said that she now goes to church because of her son. God shines the star upon us through each other. Who has been or is a star shining upon you? “Pastor, I understand all that, but I have to tell you. I don’t see the light. I don’t see the star. God seems absent. I’m in the dark.” Believe me, I can relate. Most pastors can. If you are in the dark, if you cannot see the light, the star, we are here to help. Pray, come talk to me or another Christian you trust, and do not give up. God loves you. Christ is born. The star will appear. Sooner or later, it always does. Cindy Geisen's Sermon By David von Schlichten Thank you, Cindy, for posting your Christmas sermon. Many of us can relate to the ambivalence you express about the season, and many of us need your old-new proclamation of the light that emanates because of the Incarnation of the Word. Thank you for your poedifying message. Back in the late 1800s, a complaint was that Christmas had become too commercialized. Christmas will probably be too commercialized for a long time to come, but that trend does not snuff out the light of Christ, thanks be to God. Again, I am grateful for your sermon. I hope you'll post another one. Yours in Christ, David von Schlichten Blue Christmas Sermon By Cindy Geisen I have a confession to make (which may seem odd for someone in my position), but I dread the Holidays.
And, I suspect that I am not alone. Some of us may be dreading Christmas because there will be an empty seat at the table this year. It may be that this season, which focuses so much on family, accentuates the pain of a divorce, strained family relationships, or the emptiness that comes with aching for a child and being unable to conceive. This Christmas might be hard because the money is simply not there to put gifts under the tree and a special meal on the table.
These circumstances are difficult at any time of year - but they seem to be even harder at Christmas. It's in part because Hallmark and Martha Stewart have bombarded us with vivid pictures of what the "perfect" Christmas ought to be. And, it seems that lots Americans have bought into it, hook, line, and sinker - so much so, that it’s easy to confuse Christmas with the traditions that surround it. In 1954, E.B. White observed that "to perceive Christmas through its wrapping becomes more difficult with every year."
But we know in our heart of hearts that Christmas isn't about its wrappings - beautiful and alluring though they are. Christmas isn’t about the lights, or the tinsel, or the gifts, or even family gatherings. Though we associate them with Christmas, they have nothing to do with Jesus' birth.
Christmas is about God's promise to a people who had walked in the darkness of grief and despair. Christmas is about generations of faithful people who were standing on tiptoe waiting for the Messiah. They were people -like us - scared, lonely, disappointed, hurting. They were people who lived under the tyrannical thumb of Rome. For folks like Mary and Joseph it meant finding ways to scrape out a living, often doing the kind of work no one grew up aspiring to do. For all Jews, regardless of their class, it meant having to pay burdensome taxes and being subject to arbitrary laws - like the census Luke describes in his gospel. I suspect that even for many of the Scribes and Pharisees, living under Rome’s rule was no picnic because they felt seduced into making soul-stealing concessions with the Romans; compromises that required them to keep a lid on the people so that Rome would not try to exterminate Judaism altogether.
People who longed for the Messiah were not people who had much. They were people who had very little left to lose. It is to these folks - and to us - that the evangelist John wrote, The light shines in the darkness and the darkness did not - and will never - overcome it.
Jesus is the Light that shone into the darkness.
Yet, Jesus was not the kind of Messiah people had been expecting. Folks were standing on tiptoe waiting for a soldier Messiah who would swoop down from the clouds and conquer the Romans who had been oppressing them. They were hoping for an avenger. Instead, they got a peasant child.
This peasant child is our Messiah, too. And I sometimes wonder if, like the Jews of Jesus' day, we aren't a little disappointed too. I wonder if we sometimes expect God to protect us from pain; or we make the mistake of believing that if only we had enough faith, we would be immune from hurt and uncertainty.
Our Messiah, the One whose birth we celebrate this night, promised not to shield us from pain, but to walk with us in it. This Messiah promises that there is life and light beyond even circumstances that seem to be nothing but death and darkness.
But is's not magic. My very favorite poem about hope can be found in the book, Dakota by Kathleen Norris. The poem was written by a little girl,
When my third snail died, I said 'I'm through with snails.' But I didn't mean it.
Even our most fervent faith will not erase life's struggles and pain, but it will give us strength to keep going. Sometimes heroism consists simply of getting up in the morning.
And so God gives us each other. You'll notice that, while even one candle casts its light into this darkened room, together, our candles radiate a more powerful light. The point of the incarnation is to emphasize that God is with us - in the flesh. In our flesh - which is the greatest gift of all. Amen. Sermon on Advent for December 11, 2011 By David von Schlichten Sermon on Advent for St. James Evangelical Lutheran Church, Youngstown, PA with Sunday, December 11, 2011 Third Sunday in Advent, Year B with the Reverend Dr. David von Schlichten (word count: 816)
Get Ready to Sing, Part Three
Today we’re concluding a sermon series. We have been hearing about Marison, a forty year-old working mother of two. Marison is thankful for her blessings but nevertheless has been feeling empty, lonely, and unfulfilled. Her pastor, Pastor Beatrice, suggested that Marison needs to find her song, meaning her calling, her true self. One night, Marison received a note which read, “Meet me Saturday at 4 PM. Love, Jesus.” Meanwhile, a mentally ill homeless man named Vic heard a voice tell him to go to Wal-Mart/Giant Eagle on Saturday at 4 o’clock to meet Jesus. Now it is Saturday at 4 PM. Marison pulls into the store parking lot. She is there to buy milk. She wonders, “Am I about to meet Jesus here, at the store, while buying milk?” She sees Vic standing out front. Everyone knows Vic. He is seen throughout town. He is greasy and smelly. He has black hair and a beard. He mumbles to himself and sometimes says strange things. Marison sits in her parked car. She drums the steering wheel with her fingers. “I don’t want to deal with Vic,” she thinks. “Maybe I’ll just drive away.” However, she wonders if God wants her to interact with Vic. She sighs. She gets out of the car and heads toward him. She walks toward him. He says nothing. She walks past him and is about to enter the building when he says, “Hey!” Her heart speeds up. She turns around. His face is grimy. His hair is greasy. His beard has crumbs in it. His clothes look like they have motor stains on them. He stinks of body odor and old clothes. Her stomach turns. He points at her. His fingernail is long and black from dirt. He says, “You’re Jesus.” Marison puts her hand to her chest and says. “Me?” She laughs a little. “Not even close.” “No,” he says, “I’m always right. You’re Jesus our Lord, and so am I.” She stares at him. He stares back. “What do I do now?” she thinks. “Walk away? Talk to him more? Give him money?” She finally says, “May I buy you something to eat?” His eyes widen. He walks away quickly. Marison calls after him, but he does not stop. A woman passing by Marison on his way into the store says, “Forget him. He’s crazy.” At five, while she’s feeding the cats, she gets a call from Pastor Beatrice. “Well?” Pastor Beatrice asks. “What happened?” Marison tells her. “Hm,” Pastor Beatrice says. “That kind of makes sense.” “How so?” Marison asks. Pastor Beatrice says, “Vic is sort-of right. Jesus is within you and him. He is within all of us while also being in heaven. So when he said that you and he are Jesus, that was sort-of true.” “I suppose,” Marison says. “But what do I do with that?” Pastor Beatrice, “I’m not sure. Maybe what you do with that is start treating yourself and others the way you would treat Jesus.” The next morning during church is the pageant. Marison’s two boys are in it. One is a shepherd, the other a wiseman. Her husband goes with her to church, one of only a couple times a year he actually attends. Marison thinks about how she likes the idea of the pageant but gets frustrated with it because the kids are never loud enough. She sits there and watches. She thinks about all the people who are there today but who never come any other time. In her head, she hears Vic saying, “All of these people are Jesus, too.” Suddenly being in that hot room with a bunch of people who never coming to church watching a pageant she has trouble hearing is full of holiness. It all suddenly seems miraculous, like she’s at the manger. “Christ is all around me,” she thinks. Later in the service, during the offering, everybody sings “What Child Is This.” At first, Marison thinks, “Why are we singing this hymn during the offering? What does this have to do with offering?” Then she hears the first line of the third verse, “So bring him incense, gold, and myrrh.” Of course! That’s what we’re doing now. We are bringing our incense, gold, and myrrh to Jesus by giving our offering.” That hymn, “What Child Is This” sticks with her for the rest of the day. The line, So bring him incense, gold, and myrrh” plays through her head over and over. Bring him incense, gold, and myrrh. Bring him incense, gold, and myrrh. On Christmas Eve, she says to Pastor Beatrice, “I think I found my song.” Pastor Beatrice’s face lights up. “And?” she asks. Marison says, and you say, and I say, “And Christ is all around me, and I have a lot of incense, gold, and myrrh to give.” Pastor Beatrice then asks, “Yes, and how will you do that?” [First Page] [Prev] 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57 [Next] [Last Page] Return |
