Too Blessed To Be Stressed – Sermon on Ephesians 6.10-20

Posted on August 23, 2015 by taylormertins

Ephesians 6.10-20

Finally, be strong in the Lord and in the strength of his power. Put on the whole armor of God, so that you may be able to stand against the wiles of the devil. For our struggle is not against enemies of blood and flesh, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers of this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places. Therefore take up the whole armor of God, so that you may be able to withstand on that evil day, and having done everything, to stand firm. Stand therefore, and fasten the belt of truth around your waist, and put on the breastplate of righteousness. As shoes for your feet put on whatever will make you ready to proclaim the gospel of peace. With all of there, take the shield of faith, with which you will be able to quench all the flaming arrows of the evil one. Take the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God. Pray in the Spirit at all times in every prayer and supplication. To that end keep alert and always persevere in supplication for the saints. Pray also for me, so that when I speak, a message may be given to me to make known with boldness the mystery of the gospel, for which I am an ambassador in chains. Pray that I may declare it boldly, as I must speak.

Friends, I want to share with you the secret of being too blessed to be stressed. Have you felt yourself crumbling over the demands of life? Are you frustrated with your children and their inability to actually listen? Are you worried about your loss of independence? Well then, this sermon is for you.

I know that it might seem impossible to get to a place where being blessed wipes away all the stress of our lives, but we can do it!

Here are my top five tips on how to be too blessed to be stressed:

1) Walk away from the problems! Life is too short to worry about other people. When you start to feel that stress bubbling in your gut, just walk away. We are not our brothers’ keepers. We don’t need to let other people bring us down with their worries, so just walk away.

2) Read or watch something funny! Laughter is the cure to stress. The purpose of life is to be happy all the time, so it is time for us to start embracing the hilarity of life. Instead of complaining and being stressed, we need to turn on our TVs to that witty sitcom and let the laughter loose.

3) Stop procrastinating! Seize the day. Don’t put off to tomorrow what can be done today. Avoid procrastination and stress will disappear.

4) Give your money to church! You just have to plant that little seed, and you will be rewarded one hundred-fold. Money is the root of all evil, but the point of life is to prosper. If you give you money to church, you will start to receive even more blessings than you can imagine. Give your money to the church, and you will really be too blessed to be stressed.

5) Praise the stress away! Give thanks in the midst of your troubles and peace will start to slip right in. Just look at your problems and say to yourselves, “I am thankful for this” and everything will change. But what if your too stressed to even say a praise? Try holding your arms out to your side and take in deep breath, and as you breathe out, slowly lower your arms. Once you pushed out all the air, breathe in and out 5 times in quick suggestion. I would check with your doctor before trying this, because it might not be safe for everyone, but it sure works for me!

If you follow my five easy tips, you will be too blessed to be stressed!

Ok, let’s be real for a moment. Everything I just said, from the praising your stress away, to breathing in and out in repetition, I stole from other sermons. In just a quick search on the internet I found a seemingly limitless amount of prosperity-gospel sermons aimed at ridding stress, by being blessed. From the likes of Joel Osteen and others, I created a list of five bits of advice that I had found that guarantee to turn your life around.

Here’s the problem: All these promises of wealth, health and happiness by following a simple list, a guaranteed better life by blind faith, do not resonate with scripture.

The praise service had been hitting all the marks. The band was in sync, people had their hands up in the air thanking the Lord, and a few were even dancing in front of their fold out chairs. The gymnasium had been transformed into a space of worship, and they were quickly running out of room.

The sermon was delivered with a never ending smile, encouraging people to look on the sunny side side, celebrate successes, and praise God in all time in all places. Coffee was passed around to all the worshippers, and whether it was the caffeine or not, people were jazzed up for God.

Following the service, as was customary, the preacher waited by the door and shook hands with people as they exited. His smile had remained bright and white from the sermon throughout the whole service, and was now shining upon families as they departed. However, one woman paced back in forth at the back of the line before finally throwing up her hands and walking out.

Worried that he had done something wrong, that pastor apologized to the couple in front of him and chased the woman out the door. “Ma’am,” he shouted as she stormed off to her car, “Don’t forget to praise God!”

She stopped dead in her tracks on the asphalt, made a quick 180, walked right up to the preacher, and put her finger up to his nose. “I’ve had it up to here with you and all your silly happiness and praise. I can’t stand coming to a church that won’t let me be angry.”

As Christians, and as human beings, we are often told to “go with the flow” “chill out” and “relax” but Paul’s words to the church in Ephesus are a reminder to stand firm. Not with antiquated and backwards beliefs, but firm in our convictions. That woman stomped out of worship because her life was in shambles, and the preacher was telling her to be joyful and praise God. In not so many words he was telling her that being a Christian is easy, and requires us to be happy 24-7-365.

Paul’s words to the church were unpopular. We would rather hear from the prosperity preachers, and the praise preachers, that tell us how easy life can be if we only have faith in God, if we only “walk away from the problems”, if we only give our money to church.

Friends, being a Christian is not popular, nor is it easy.

Paul’s words are still unpopular because they are a challenge to such a secular society, particularly the one we live in.

Be strong in the Lord in the strength of his power. Put on the whole armor of God. There will come times when the wiles of the devil tempt us at the very heart of our being. Our truest struggles are not against enemies of blood and flesh, but against rulers, and authorities that strive for injustice at every turn.

Following Christ means standing firm in defense of justice and love. Taking up our crosses means that we will suffer for the love of God, and if we are too blessed to be stressed, then we are not working hard enough for the Kingdom.

So, take up the whole armor of God and stand firm. God has provided us with the power of truth, righteousness, peace, faith, salvation, the Spirit, and prayer. These are our tools to work against the evils of our world, we shall adorn them over our bodies for our lives, and we can remain steadfast in our convictions.

If we walk away from the problems of life, then we are not following Jesus’ command to minister to the last, least, and lost. Ignoring the stresses and injustices of life means that we are not loving our neighbors as ourselves.

If we give our money to church with the expectation that it will solve all of our problems, it will not! The offering plate of worship in not a cash register for a commodified exchange. We give as a response to God’s goodness, not as an expectation of blessing in return.

And if we try to praise the stress away, if we only want to hear about the joy, then we will continue to ignore the truth of reality and what it means to really follow Jesus.

Put on the whole armor of God because you will need it.

For a long time being Christian was just what everyone did. Most people were born into Christian families and went to the same church their whole lives without ever giving it a second thought. We lived in a Christian culture.

Interestingly enough, today following Christ means being counter-cultural. Imagine how strange a thing it is that we come back week after week to learn about being humble and risking unpopularity. We hear stories about how suffering and ridicule, if not worse, are part of our identity.

I like to joke that Jesus could use some new PR, because the stuff church offers doesn’t sell. There are no quick fixes and simple schemes. There are no “five easy steps to happiness.” Even in during Jesus ministry, the crowds grew to an incredible degree, but by the end, he was all alone marching up the hill with a cross on his back.

Jesus speaks to us through the words of scripture today calling us to be counter-cultural, to stand firm in the strength of God’s power.

“I am too blessed to be stressed” is such a strange thing for a Christian to claim. Having faith implies struggle. Discipleship is a journey filled with wonder, joy, and hardship.

This is the kind of thing that we are bold to proclaim. That God came in the form of Christ to walk among the people and turn the world upside-down. That Christ offered stories and commands that help to shape our lives so that we can shape others. That Jesus went to the very limit of his life dedicated to the profound power of love and it got him killed on a cross. That three days later he rose from the grave, defeated death, and offered salvation to the world.

We are not too blessed to be stressed. If we are anything we are too blessed to be content. When we remember all that God was willing to do for us and for the world, it ignites a desire in our hearts to start transforming the world. When we feel God’s love in our lives through a friend, we are given the strength to do the same for someone else. When we break down and raise our clenched fists in the air at God, when we pray from the depth of our being, God shows up and starts to reorient our lives through change.

We are too blessed to be content. The world is full of rulers, authorities, cosmic powers of darkness, and spiritual forces of evil. God has blessed us to stand firm against the injustices of life and say “no more!” We will not sit idly by while the world tells people they have no value, we will not participate in a system that perpetuates economic disparity, we will not give in to the evil powers of prejudice and presumption.

We say, “no more!” and we clothe ourselves with the whole armor of God and we go marching against the evils of the world. We wear the belt of truth and open our eyes to what is really going on. We strap on the breast plate of righteousness and live according to love rather than hate. We put on shoes that allow us to get on the move and declare the gospel of peace. We brandish the shield of faith, holding on to the promises of God. We adorn our heads with the helmet of salvation, hold the sword of the Spirit, and we persevere in prayer.

We say “no more!” to the rulers, and the authorities, and the cosmic powers of darkness because we are too blessed to be content. Amen.

Devotional – 2 Corinthians 5.15

Posted on June 9, 2015 by taylormertins

Devotional

2 Corinthians 5.15

And he died for all, so that those who live might live no longer for themselves, but for him who died and was raised for them.

I’m a people pleaser. Ever since I was a young child I have felt the need to do whatever I can to make other people happy and feel affirmed. In elementary school I would make sure that everyone was invited to play together on the playground, in high school I listened to my peers and would quickly change my plans if it made things easier, in seminary I spent time complimenting my classmates on their comments particularly when professors were doing the opposite. Even now, I catch myself paying people compliments in the midst of a conversation with the hope that it will brighten their day.

Pleasing other people is important. We live in a world that consistently breaks us down and makes us question our own worth. So, if I can do anything to help build self-esteem, I’m going to do it. However, if I limit my actions to only pleasing others, I start to water down the gospel and limit the power of transformation in worship.

On Sunday I preached a sermon that many people did not want to hear. I felt convicted by the Holy Spirit to preach about the demons in our lives that prevent us from acting according to God’s love. I focused on the demonic power of homophobia, but the same sermon could have been focused on racism, materialism, sexism, etc. And honestly, I was afraid to preach it. In the days leading up to Sunday, I started thinking about scrapping it for something else because I was worried about how everyone would react.

I know that some of the people from St. John’s are not happy about what I said because they told me so on their way out. As I listened to their comments, and saw people shaking their heads in disagreement, I started to take it personally and felt defeated. Thoughts bounced around in my head like: What happens if they don’t come back because of me? What will they tell their friends about what I said?

But then I read 2 Corinthians 5.15.

If I only worry about how people see me, and hear me, and react to my words, then I am only living for myself instead of for Christ. If I spent every Sunday only affirming the faith and actions of the congregation, then we would never feel challenged to be better.

One of the greatest challenges of being a disciple is learning to let go of our selfish needs and desires. We are called to live for the one who died and was raised for us. If we live for Christ then we will have the strength to preach the truth at all times in all places. If we live for Christ we will learn to both praise and challenge the people around us without fear.

This week, let us take a step back and remember who we are and whose we are. Let us pray for the Lord to give us the courage to be honest with the people in our lives. And let us truly live for the one who died and was raised for us.

Devotional – 2 Corinthians 4.16

Posted on June 1, 2015 by taylormertins

Devotional:

2 Corinthians 4.16

So we do not lose heart. Even though our outer nature is wasting away, our inner nature is being renewed day by day.

One day I’m going to write a book about all the hilarious, remarkable, frightening, and life-giving things that have taken place during my ministry. Being a pastor is, in my opinion, one of the greatest vocations because it is a privileged responsibility. Pastors are invited in the depth of brokenness, the height of celebration, and everything in between. Some of the stories I have accrued over the last two years who never be appropriate from the pulpit, but one day I’ll get the good ones written down.

Dick Dickerson was a source of great moments. When I received a phone call about his passing away on Saturday, I gave God thanks for putting him in my life and helping me to discover what grace really looks like. But his death did not fully hit me until I announced it from the pulpit yesterday morning and I realized that I would no longer get to see his smiling face, hear his endearing laugh, or listen to one of his great stories.

For instance: When he served during World War 2 as a Quarter-Master he would lie to his superiors when requesting certain supplies saying they were for General Patton just so he could get the equipment necessary to support his troops. Or the story about how he not so subtly attempted to make conservatives out of his friends by offering them whisky only so long as they declared allegiance to the Republican Party. His life was one great story worth telling over and over.

A few weeks ago we were sitting in his apartment talking about the end. Death was not far away and Dick’s bone cancer was getting worse and worse everyday. Yet, he was completely prepared for it. He kept saying, “I’m ready for the Lord to take me.” While the pain was striking deep in his bones he kept such tremendous faith because he knew the Lord was with him and waiting to take him home.

When we lose the people we love, we are caught in a dilemma. On some level we are thankful that they are finally at peace and have gone to be with God, but at the same time we mourn losing them in our lives. Yet Dick was a witness to the kind of faith we are called to have: His outer nature was wasting away, but his faith was growing each and every day. The last thing Dick ever said to me was this: “I never knew God could love me this much.”

This week, let us reflect on what it means to keep the faith. Not a blind faith without doubt, but a willingness to see how our inner nature is being renewed even while our outer nature wastes away. Let us give thanks to God for all who have gone on before us, and pray that the Lord would give us the strength to be better witnesses for those who will come after us.

Devotional – Psalm 104.33

Posted on May 18, 2015 by taylormertins

Devotional:

Psalm 104.33

I will sing to the Lord as long as I live; I will sing praise to my God while I have being.

Our service yesterday was filled with music: We began with the wonderful hymn “For the Beauty of the Earth” as we praised God for the many blessings of life. Our Preschoolers offered wonderful renditions of “This Is My Commandment” and “He’s Got The Whole World In His Hands” all with corresponding hand gestures. Our Youth Choir faithfully proclaimed the words to “You Are My All In All.” And as a congregation we all joined together for “Savior, Like a Shepherd Lead Us” and “Leaning on the Everlasting Arms.”

Out of the numerous responsibilities that come with being a pastor, selecting the hymns for Sunday morning is one of my favorite privileges. I love spending time deep in God’s Word to begin crafting a sermon, but spending time in the hymnal and choosing songs to complement the thrust of worship is incredible. I grew up learning to sing my faith out of the hymnal and I believe hymns are vitally important for us to continually learn what it means to be faithful today.

After worship, while we were celebrating our preschoolers with a reception, I had a couple come up to me to thank me for worship. We talked about how cute the children were and how wonderful it was to see them in church. We exchanged stories about what we remember from our days in Preschool (not a lot). But before I was going to thank them for their words and pick up some more food from the table they had one more thing to say: “We heard God in the songs today.”

Have you ever been in the middle of a hymn during worship when you started to really understand it for the first time? You might’ve known all the words to something like “Leaning on the Everlasting Arms” but one Sunday it finally clicked? Or you’ve heard children sing “He’s Got The Whole World In His Hands” but when you saw them pointing at you during the service you realized, for the first time, that God has you in his hands?

“I will sing to the Lord as long as I live; I will sing praise to my God while I have being.” Singing our faith is at the heart of what it means to be faithful because our words, and the music, help us to grasp who we are and whose we are.

This week, let us all reflect on the meaning of the hymns we sing.

What is your favorite hymn? What has it taught you about faith and discipleship?

Devotional – Acts 10.44

Posted on May 4, 2015 by taylormertins

Devotional

Acts 10.44

While Peter was still speaking, the Holy Spirit fell upon all who heard the word.

It happens all the time. I’ll be preaching from the pulpit, or leading a bible study, or praying for a family when someone responds later by quoting back something I said, only I never said it. The sermon will be about the importance of loving our neighbors, and someone will bring up our “obviously similar” political persuasions while we shake hands after the service. The bible study will move through the book of James and the challenge of being wealthy and Christian, and someone will later thank me for my comments about “sinful multi-national corporations.” I’ll be in a hospital room praying with a family for God’s will to be done, when someone will later attribute the cure to my wishing for a miracle.

In ministry, and in life, something happens between our lips and another person’s ears that we can never prepare for or predict. For as much time as pastors put into their sermons/bible studies/prayers it is a remarkable thing that we often lose control over what we say. The exact moment the words leave our lips they wrench themselves free from our dominion and take on a life of their own. The consequences of this lack of control can be both destructive and life-giving.

Occasionally someone will hear something in the sermon/lesson/prayer (that was never said) and it leads to a divisive and frightening argument. The narthex conversations following worship can be nerve-racking because you never know what to expect. But, more often than not, people hear something in the sermon/lesson/prayer (that was never said) and it gives greater glory to God than I could ever do with my own words. People will open up and confess they believed the words were meant for them alone and they experienced God’s abundant presence speaking into their lives.

Preaching is meant to be a conversation. The pastor stands at the front speaking words about the reality of God and they pick up subtle clues regarding responses: the occasional head nod and the rare audible “amen.” But they also deeply rely on the comments made after the service regarding the proclamation. Just as the Spirit fell upon all who heard the word from Peter, the Spirit shows up in worship, in bible studies, and in hospital rooms reigniting words, rearranging them, and helping them to sink deeply into people’s lives.

It is hard to relinquish control over something as precious as a sermon, but then again the sermon never belongs to me in the first place; it belongs to God.

This week let us take time to really listen to the people in our lives and engage in conversation with them. Let us give thanks to God for providing the power of the Holy Spirit to actually make something out of our words in spite of us. And let us have the courage to be honest with all the pastors in our lives about what they say and what it means to us.

Devotional – John 20.30

Posted on April 7, 2015 by taylormertins

Devotional:

John 20.30

Now Jesus did many other signs in the presence of his disciples, which are not written in this book.

My favorite piece of scripture is Mark 10.45: For the Son of man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life a ransom for many.” I love the idea that, like Jesus, we are called to serve the needs of others rather than focusing on ourselves all the time. One of the verses that has made the most impact in my life is from Matthew 27.46: “And about three o’clock Jesus cried with a loud voice, “Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani?” that is, ‘My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?’” Through it I began to realize the depth of Jesus’ humanity and what he went through on our behalf.

There are plenty of verses that make me laugh, like Acts 20.9: “A young man named Eutychus, who was sitting in the window, began to sink off into a deep sleep while Paul talked still longer. Overcome by sleep, he fell to the ground three floors below and was picked up dead.” And there are some passages that leave me scratching my head in confusion, like Mark 9.50: “Salt is good; but if salt has lost its saltiness, how can you season it?”

Last Easter my friend Jason Micheli preached his sermon on what he called “the biblical verse that really ticks [him] off, the scripture verse that irritates the you-know-what out of [him] is John 20.30: Now Jesus did many other signs in the presence of his disciples, which are not written in this book.”

And I have to agree with him.

Why in the world would John omit other stories about Jesus’ life? If there were other miracles, other teachings, other divine moments, why wouldn’t he include them in the gospel? Most of the time I read from the bible I feel very fulfilled, but when I read John 20.30 I feel like I got short-changed.

Yet, on some level, I feel like it’s quite appropriate. If Easter tells us anything it’s that the living Lord is still on the move meeting us on the roads of life. John’s gospel could never contain all of Jesus’ miracles because he is still making them happen here and now. Sometimes we believe that we can only find and discover the Lord in the sacred texts of scripture, but that’s when we need to open our eyes to the wonders around us and see how God is still moving in the world.

When was the last time you felt the presence of God? Hopefully you experienced the Spirit of the Lord during your recent Easter service, or maybe you discovered God in the breaking of bread during communion. This week, let us all take heart knowing that we can find God in the words of scripture and in our experiences in the world.

Back to the Basics – Sermon on Mark 8.22-26

Posted on March 1, 2015 by taylormertins

Mark 8.22-26

They came to Bethsaida. Some people brought a blind man to him and begged him to touch him. He took the blind man by the hand and led him out of the village; and when he had put saliva on is eyes and laid his hands on him, he asked him, “Can you see anything?” And the man looked up and said, “I can see people, but they look like trees, walking.” Then Jesus laid his hands on his eyes again; and he looked intently and his sight was restored, and he saw everything clearly. Then he sent him away to his home, saying, “Do not even go into the village.”

I was shivering at the front of our sanctuary with ashes all over my fingers. Whether at 7 am or 7 pm the services were virtually the same: it was cold and dark outside, those who came huddled together for warmth, I preached the same homily, used the same ashes, and said the same words as I marked each person: you are dust, and to dust you shall return. Ash Wednesday is one of those profound moments in the regular rhythms of church life where we admit something the world tries to claim the contrary: nobody makes it out of life alive.

I began both services with a brief introduction about the importance of Ash Wednesday, and the history behind it. We all prayed together. I read a selection from Psalm 51 about God creating in us clean hearts. I preached about living out our faith in the world as marked and cleansed people, and challenged each of us to act like the cross was still on our foreheads, even when the ashes faded away. I then prayed and blessed the ashes and invited everyone to come forward. There is something profoundly frightening and intimate about having people coming up to have ashes placed on their skin. We participate in an ancient ritual that is so contrary to the ways of the world. It is a privilege to come so close to the holy presence of God with each person who stood before me; looking them in the eye, holding their shoulder, touching their skin.

Before I offered a benediction for the services I invited everyone into a time of silence. While I prayed I was struck by the Spirit in a way that I had previously not encountered. I started thinking and praying for the people who were not in the sanctuary for the service. And I don’t mean for those of you who enjoyed Ash Wednesday from the warmth of your homes. I prayed for the people who came to our last Ash Wednesday service, but not this one. Because some of the people I held in my hands one year ago, I have buried in the months since. The words: “you are dust, and to dust you shall return,” take on a truly deeper meaning when the people go from worshiping in the pews, to resting in a casket at the front.

They brought the blind man to Jesus. Perhaps they wanted to see a public demonstration of his power and so they found someone for him to cure. Or they knew the struggles and sufferings of a friend and believed that Christ was the one to heal him. Whatever the case, the crowds begged Jesus to touch the blind man.

Jesus then took the man by the hand, and led him away from the crowds and out of the village. He spit into the man’s eyes, and laid his hands upon him. “What do you see?” Jesus asked. The man looked up and said to the Messiah, “I can see people, but they look like trees walking.” Then Jesus laid his hands on the man a second time. Suddenly, the man’s vision broke through and his sight was restored and he saw everything clearly. Jesus sent him back to his home, commanding him to not even stop in the village.

Is it strange that it takes Jesus two tries to get the healing right? Throughout the gospel accounts Jesus is the main man when it comes to healing and he gets it done right away. Paralyzed? Jesus says “take up your mat and walk!” Tied up with chains outside of the village because you’re possessed by demons? Jesus commands the demons out and sends you home. Your son is epileptic? Jesus says “all things are possible for the one who believes” and makes it so. But here in Mark 8 we have a strange story, a story that can only be found here in this gospel. Jesus is asked to heal a blind man, he uses his own spit for the first part, but it doesn’t work all the way, so he has to touch the blind man a second time.

I don’t know about you, but I love this story. I love how grounded it is in the material and physical world. I love the way that Jesus ignores the crowd and brings the man outside of the village. I actually love that it takes Jesus two tries to get it right because it says so much about our relationships with God. In fact, I love this passage so much, that I used it as the New Testament reading for Lindsey’s and my wedding. If I remember the wedding sermon correctly Jason, our pastor, said this about the choice: “The walking trees do-over miracle of Jesus with the blind man is a text that only a pastor would use at his wedding.”

Yet, even with its strangeness and bizarre imagery, I love this passage. I think it works well for weddings; You only really see the person you’re marrying, after you marry them. Dating and being engaged is like seeing the other as a blurred image, but in the vows and covenant of marriage the other comes into focus, and we see what our lives truly become together.

Moreover, I think this text works well for the beginning of Lent, as it reminds us that sometimes it takes two tries to get this whole discipleship-thing figured out. In fact, it often takes more than two tries to get it right.

The story with Jesus and the unnamed blind man is a reminder about what our relationship with God is like. Before we become Christians, we see and experience the world with extremely limited vision. We believe that we are the center of the universe, that our primary purpose is to love ourselves and serve our needs no matter the cost. But then a strange thing happens. Maybe it occurred when you were invited to worship for the first time, or maybe it happened on a mission trip, or maybe it happened in the middle of the night after awaking from a strange dream; whatever the experience was, God became real for you for the first time.

Some might say that as soon as that event takes place, you begin to understand God and see the world with clear vision. This story however, would claim the contrary. When we initially experience God’s wonder its like seeing people as trees walking. We are given a glimpse of what the world looks like turned upside down, we begin to grasp and understand what loving God and neighbor is all about. But our vision of discipleship is still dim and incomplete.

Frankly, this distorted and obscure vision of faith is where most Christians are located, myself included. We think we understand everything that God is doing and we think we are seeing things clearly, but its not the case. How many of us can rattle off all the words to the creeds and to the Lord’s Prayer, how many of us have the hymns memorized and can sing without looking down, how many of us really know and read our bibles, yet our vision is still dim?

Lent is the time for us to turn back toward God and see things clearly. We need to see God as God is. Not just the God of our liturgical creeds and hymnals, but the Lord of our hearts and homes, of our hopes, our prayers, and our needs. We desperately need a real picture of what faith looks like. Because faith cannot just be showing up to church once a week for an hour of worship. Faith is about giving your entire life over toward loving God and others 24/7, 365.

While I was praying after our Ash Wednesday services I realized that I don’t really know any of you. At least not to the degree that we are called to know and love God in our lives. While applying the ashes to some of your foreheads I saw what you allow me to see, I saw some of your celebrations, some of your failures, some of your hopes, some of your sins. I can strive to know you as deeply and as fully as I can, but I will only see you as a blurry tree depending on what you open up.

Yet, while preparing for funerals, I start to see a clearer picture of the person. It’s like God has touched me a second time and I finally begin to understand the kind of life that someone lived. Part of it comes from the vulnerability and honesty that families and friends are willing to share, but part of it comes from my willingness to finally ask questions that I never felt brave enough to ask while they were alive.

For all of us, our discipleship and relationship with God is often perpetually caught in this state of blurred trees. We show up to church, we pray, we read our bibles, but without a sure foundation of the basics of faith, our vision will always be limited.

That’s why, throughout the season of lent, we will take time each Sunday to return to some of the basics of faith. We might come to the table once a month to partake of Jesus’ body and blood, but do we really believe and know what we are doing? We might talk about being saved and affirming Jesus Christ as Lord, but what does salvation really look like, and why do we call Jesus our Lord? We might see the other people in our pews as brothers and sisters in Christ, but why is our relationship with them limited to Sundays mornings or church activities?

It is my hope that over the next few weeks all of us will receive that second touch from the Lord; by returning back to the basics we will begin to see faithful things and then to see all things clearly: God, ourselves, and others.

But that’s where we’re going. For today I was to focus on this: Our lives are gifts. We are privileged to be surrounded by such beautiful and unique people in our lives. From our co-workers, to fellow students, to friends, and family, and even strangers, we are blessed people. Yet, do we really know any of them? Do we really see them as they truly are? I promise that for all the perfect exteriors you might encounter, there are at least a few who, on the inside, are looking for someone like you to see the real them.

If we take this two part healing seriously than it’s up to us to initiate the second touch for the people around us. We could wait for them to show up and open up, but most of the time it will never happen. Instead we are given the chance to ask deep and important questions of the people in our lives. Questions like: How is it with your soul? What are you doing right now that is saving your life? Do you feel loved?

When you find someone and bravely ask them questions, you are like the crowds bringing the blind man to Jesus; you go into the world as Christ’s body, and by learning more about the other, you discover what it means to see things clearly.

We begin our challenge here at the Lord’s Table. After we are invited to feast and confess our sins, we will exchange signs of Christ’s peace with one another. This is the chance for us to begin opening our eyes to the truth around us; We are a church of broken people, and when we love on each other and gather at God’s table, we start putting all the pieces back together. Amen.

Love > Knowledge – Sermon on 1 Corinthians 8.1-9

Posted on February 2, 2015 by taylormertins

1 Corinthians 8.1-9

Now concerning food sacrificed to idols: we know that “all of us possess knowledge.” Knowledge puffs up, but love builds up. Anyone who claims to know something does not yet have the necessary knowledge; but anyone who loves God is known by him. Hence, as to the eating of food offered to idols, we know that “no idol in the world really exists,” and that, “there is no God but one.” Indeed, even though there may be so-called gods in heaven or on earth – as in fact there are many gods and many lords – yet for us there is one God, the Father, from whom are all things and for whom we exist, and one Lord, Jesus Christ, through whom are all things and through whom we exist. It is not everyone, however, who has this knowledge. Since some have become so accustomed to idols until now, they still think of the food they eat as food offered to an idol; and their conscience, being weak, is defiled. “Food will not bring us closer to God.” We are no worse off if we do not eat, and no better off if we do. But take care that this liberty of yours does not somehow become a stumbling block to the weak.

Here’s the situation: The church in Corinth had lots of issues and Paul, as an apostle, wrote to them addressing a number of concerns and problems. At times he wrote about sexual immorality, at others he wrote about the importance of inviting everyone to receive the Lord’s Supper, but here in chapter 8, he brings up the issue of eating meat that was sacrificed to idols.

In Corinth, the elite would sacrifice their livestock to idols and then share the food with others. For some of the Corinthians they believed it was perfectly fine to eat the meat because they knew there is only one Lord and eating food would never bring them closer to God. However, others believed that if they ate some of the meat that was formerly sacrificed, they would be supporting the belief system in idols and would therefore be committing heresy.

Is this still an issue for us today? Unless your butcher is praying to satan before he/she presents your beef, then this probably does not affect you. However, this passage is not merely just about meat sacrificed to idols, and in fact is still relevant to us today.

When I moved into the parsonage I was very excited. I had spent my entire life either living with my family, or sharing apartments with roommates. For the very first time I would be living in a house, with a yard that I could take care of, with a fireplace that I could actually burn wood in! I would be living on a street with neighbors, and I casually day dreamt about someone knocking on the door to ask for some sugar. Staunton was going to be my Mayberry.

Yet, after moving everything in and getting settled I still felt isolated. I had our church community, of course, but I really wanted to meet my neighbors and create new relationships. I waited for them to stop by the house, but no one ever came.

That’s when Lindsey and I decided to throw the first ever Bowie Street Bash. We actually wanted it to be David Bowie themed, but we were a little worried how our neighbors would respond to me dressing up like Ziggy Stardust complete with tights pants and a lightning bolt across my face. So instead we just made simple invitations to spend a Sunday afternoon together at the parsonage in order to have some fun.

Everyone came and we had a blast. We shared stories and talked about what Staunton used to be like. I saw in my neighbors true friends and realized that I was going to love living on this street.

When things were starting to wrap up, and each neighbor was preparing to head home, we said our goodbyes and promised to get together again sometime soon. However, before one of my neighbors left, she asked if she could speak to me for just a moment.

“I don’t know if you drink.” she said, “but if you do, I want you to know that you are more than welcome to put your empty beer bottles in our recycling bin.”

I stood there mystified. Why in the world would she offer her recycling bin for our bottles? But before I could even ask, she answered my question: “Some of your church members are known for doing drive-bys to see what you’re really up to.”

Can we, as Christians, properly fit into the world of our surrounding culture? What are the lines to be drawn between accommodation to the reality of culture and unacceptable compromise?

For instance: That afternoon I began to wonder about whether or not we, as Christians, can drink alcohol. There are plenty of verses in scripture that speak against it: Do not drink because it leads to debauchery (Ephesians 5.18); Your body is a temple (1 Corinthians 6.19); etc. And there are plenty of verses that allow for it: Jesus’ first miracle was turning water into wine (John 2.1-11); Jesus shares wine with his disciples during the last supper (Matthew 26.17-30); etc.

The question at hand is this: Have we grown too comfortable with our cultural setting?

Almost every Sunday I have someone approach me after worship to apologize for not being here the previous week. Now I want you all to know that I love each and every one of you, but I do not take attendance at church. When some of you have explained and rationalized your lack of attendance, I honestly did not remember that you were not here with us.

“Taylor, sorry we were not here last week, our grandchildren were in town and we wanted to spend as much time with them as possible”, “Taylor, sorry we were not here last week, our son had a basketball game on Sunday morning and we wanted to support him.” , “Taylor, sorry I was not here last week, I overslept and would not make it in time for worship.”

I almost always respond with an affirmation of your lack of attendance by saying, “you were where you needed to be!” Most of the time I truly believe what I say, but sometimes I wonder… Have we grown so comfortable with our surroundings that church has become just something to do? Or do we believe it is the location of where we discover something worth living for?

Paul feared how much the Corinthians were growing comfortable with their surroundings. Many professed a strong knowledge that there was only one God, so whenever they ate meat sacrificed to idols they knew what it really was. Paul commends them for their knowledge but then challenges them to see that their wisdom is not enough to help those young and weak in their faith.

You might know that you can drink responsibly, but would you offer wine to a recovering alcoholic? You might know that you love PB&Js, but would you serve one to someone with a peanut allergy?

Each of us has a stumbling block and it might be very different from the people in the pews with us.

Maybe you struggle with alcohol. Perhaps you are guilty of lusting after what others have. Some of us might fret too much about the way we look before we leave the house. A few of us might spend more time worrying who will win the Superbowl than we do about the people wandering around downtown who won’t have a warm place to sleep tonight.

1 Corinthians 8 encourages us to shine a light on our lives to see whether or not we are eating in the temples of the idols that surround us.

One of the most frightening forms of idolatry for churches today is the overwhelming power of materialism. Christians, whether we like to admit it or not, are enmeshed in economic practices that draw our loyalty away from Christ and divide the community by disregarding the poor and the needy.

Other than the irony of fighting for deals on Black Friday after Thanksgiving, Super Bowl Sunday is a sobering reminder of the power of materialism in our world today.

Tonight, Americans will eat 14,500 tons of Potato Chips, enough to fill 39 Boeing 747 Airplanes. We will eat 3.8 million pounds of popcorn, which could fill 13.5 million large buckets of popcorn from the movie theater. We will eat 4 million pizzas, which (when stacked on top of each other) would be taller than 910 Leaning Towers of Pisa. We will drink 325.5 million gallons of beer, which could fill 500 olympic size swimming pools. And we will eat 1.23 billion chicken wings, literally enough to give every person in the United States three wings each. (http://mashable.com/2015/01/28/super-bowl-food/)

What does it say about our culture when tonight we, as a country, will eat so much when so many go without food? And don’t even get me started on the commercials; millions upon millions of dollars have been spent for 30 seconds of ad space when people in our country cannot afford to go to the doctor when they are sick.

Love is greater than knowledge.

Love is more important than our looks, football games, our jobs, alcohol, and everything else in all creation. Love is what sets the church apart from the rest of the world. Love is what conquers all things and helps to show the world turned upside down.

Knowing all about the Civil Rights movement means nothing when we speak in prejudiced tones about people who do not look like us.

Knowing all about the importance of feminism means nothing when we still degrade women in the workplace and pay them at a lower percentage than their male counterparts.

Knowing all about the plight of the poor and needy in Staunton means nothing when we neglect to actually do something about it and let our love become manifest.

All of us will profit from looking in the mirror of 1 Corinthians 8 and asking whether there are ways in which we are using knowledge as a weapon rather than as an instrument of love.

Can we drink as Christians? Can we work hard to earn tremendous amounts of wealth? Can we watch the Superbowl and host big parties? Of course we can, so long as things like alcohol, money, and the Superbowl do not become idols that we worship more than the Lord of life.

The idols in our lives will never bring us closer to God. The more time we spend in culturally accepted practices that are disconnected from discipleship, the further we move away from the Lord. For the church in Corinth, they knew that food would not bring them closer to God whether from meat sacrificed to idols or not. Thanks be to God that the meal we will share in just a few moments will no longer be food, but instead it will be the body and blood of Christ.

When we gather at the table, love truly trumps knowledge. All of the idols of life fall away and pale in comparison to the gift of God on the cross for people like you and me. The table is where we discover what love really looks like; sacrifice, faithfulness, and hope.

We have set up a mirror here at the front of church. When you come up to receive the body and blood I encourage you to take a moment to look at yourself in the mirror, open your eyes to your life and see your own stumbling blocks. Let 1 Corinthians 8 be the mirror by which you begin to wrestle with the idols you worship, so that you can turn back to the Lord and let love be greater than knowledge. Amen.

Devotional – Mark 1.28

Posted on January 26, 2015 by taylormertins

Devotional:

Mark 1.28

At once his fame began to spread throughout the surrounding region of Galilee.

In a place the size of Staunton, you quickly begin to recognize people all over town. It only took six months for trips to the grocery store to extend in length because there was a good chance I would run into someone that I knew and a conversation would naturally develop. Moreover, when your vocation includes serving the general public, people begin to talk about you with friends and family outside the context of church.

For instance: There was the time I was playing drums in a band concert at Gypsy Hill park when a stranger introduced himself and asked if I was “the strange pastor who carried a giant cross around Staunton.” Or there was the time that I was helping out at another United Methodist Church when a stranger introduced herself and asked if I was “the young pastor who made the youth do all sorts of strange things during worship” (and promptly walked away as soon as I confirmed her suspicions!). Or there are the numerous times when I am somewhere in town and a random person will say: “Oh, I’ve heard all about you and the things you’re doing at St. John’s” and I can never tell whether or not that is a good thing.

Frankly, you don’t have to be in a place like Staunton for words and gossip to spread around like wild-fire; people thrive on receiving and sharing information that excites and dramatizes individuals in the local community. Many of us are guilty of perpetuating this cycle whenever we begin a conversation with: “Did you hear about ______?” or “Can you believe what ________ did?” Sometimes we sadly choose to focus on the dramatic successes and misfortunes of others so that we don’t have to confront the reality of what is actually happening to us in our lives.

Before the end of Mark’s first chapter, words and stories about Jesus have begun to spread all over Galilee; He called the first disciples, He cleansed a man with an unclean spirit, He healed Peter’s mother from her fever, and He cured many who were sick with various diseases and cast out many demons. Jesus recognized that he would have to be publicly active in his willingness to proclaim God’s Good News through his words and actions. He went out to find people in order to bring about God’s will on earth. Important for us to remember is the fact that Jesus did not let all the rumors prevent him for doing his ministry on earth.

Wherever you live and whatever you have done, there is a good chance that people are probably talking about you in a way that is spreading your “fame” (for better or worse) in the community. Remember this: In God’s eyes you are defined by what you do for the kingdom and not by what people say about you. Therefore, let us be people of courage who do not let the words of the World break us down, but instead firmly root our hope in faith in the one whose fame continues to spread throughout the world: Jesus Christ.

Actions > Words – Sermon on Mark 1.14-20

Posted on January 26, 2015 by taylormertins

Mark 1.14-20

Now after John was arrested, Jesus came to Galilee, proclaiming the good news of God, and saying, “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe in the good news.” As Jesus passed along the Sea of Galilee, he saw Simon and his brother Andrew casting a net into the sea – for they were fisherman. And Jesus said to them, “Follow me and I will make you fish for people.” And immediately they left their nets and followed him. As he went a little farther, he saw James son of Zebedee and his brother John, who were in their boat mending the nets. Immediately he called them; and they left their father Zebedee in the boat with the hired men, and followed him.

“When did I last share my faith with someone?” The paper with the question stretched across my lap in the parlor. I had been meeting with a discipleship circle once a month for a year. Our typical routine is to gather, celebrate communion together, engage in a short devotional, and then ask some of the traditional Wesleyan questions as a group. For instance one of the questions is: “Do I pray about the money I spend?” We would then take turns going around in a circle and answering the question honestly, and practice being vulnerable as we seek to grow in love of God and neighbor.

The evening began with a simpler question: “Did the bible live in me today?” Some of the answers were beautiful, some were simple, and others stretched the definition of living out God’s Word. But then it was my turn to draw one of the random questions from the bag, and I read the words out slowly and deliberately: “When did I last share my faith with someone?” All eyes in the room fell on me to answer the question.

To be honest: I hate that question. I hate how Christians have overemphasized the importance of evangelism to the point of events such as the Crusades and the Inquisition. I hate how sharing faith has been boiled down into trying to make other people into Christians. I hate the flyers I find in public bathrooms, and the desperate pleas for people to accept Jesus Christ as their personal Lord and Savior or face eternal damnation. Yet, there I sat and it was my turn to respond.

I began: “I last shared my faith on Sunday when I was speaking from the pulpit. We had a number of people here in worship and as I preached, I shared my faith.” The room was silent, and it was clear my answer did not satisfy the group. “That doesn’t count” one of them muttered, “answer it truthfully.”

I shivered and felt ashamed because I realized that I could not remember the last time I shared my faith outside the context of serving as a pastor.

Following Jesus means sacrifice and bringing others to him. Simon and Andrew were in the middle of fishing, participating in their careers, when Jesus called them to fish for people. They left their nets, which is to say they left their ways of life, to follow this strange and compelling man. So too, James and John were mending their nets when Jesus called them to follow and they left it all behind. The life of discipleship for them, and for us, is not easy; it requires a commitment unlike anything else, and it will cost us our very lives.

As I sat before my friends and peers with the question weighing heavily upon me, I began to wonder: If I believe Jesus is the light of the world, that God is the author of salvation, that the Holy Spirit gives me life, then why am I so afraid to share that with others?

I left the meeting that night with a heavy heart. The conversation had moved to a new direction but I kept replaying the question in my head over and over again. Had I grown content with just assuming that people will keep showing up to church on Sunday mornings? Or am I willing to be a fisher for people?

I made a promise to myself in the car that night: For the next two weeks I was going to take nothing for granted and I was going to explore fishing for people; I was going to share my faith with others.

Two days later I was sitting in a McDonalds in Orange, VA. I had wandered around in the cold while Lindsey was busy with a visit and decided to warm myself up under the glow of the golden arches. The place was packed. Friends and families took up the majority of the seating, and though I wanted to just grab my soda and sit alone with a book, I remembered the promise I made and began searching the joint. Near a television that was showing reports on CNN I discovered a middle aged man sitting all alone with a Big Mac, fries, and an extra large Coke. I sat down beside him, and though I felt the Holy Spirit pushing me to speak with him, I couldn’t figure out where to start. A few awkward moments passed until I blurted out, “How’s your dinner?” The man slowly looked up from his food and shrugged his shoulders. “It’s McDonalds” he said, as if returning my question with a question. Again, I was at a loss for what to do next, but he decided to pick up the conversation. He motioned toward the television:

“What do you make of all these terrorist attacks in Europe?”

“I think it’s terrible, and I will never understand how people believe that death can accomplish what they want.”

“If we catch them, how do you think they should be punished?”

“I guess they should be charged, and put in prison if found guilty. Maybe they’ll even turn their lives around.”

“If I had it my way, I’d string ‘em up in the center of town for everyone to see while they suffer and are killed for what they’ve done.”

At this point I should have just stopped talking and gone back to my book, but I couldn’t help myself. I should have at least thought about what I was about to say, before I said it:

“You know, a group of people once hung a man on a tree to die for a crime that he did not commit, just so everyone could witness his suffering.”

“Oh really? Who was that?”

“His name was Jesus.”

The rest of our time together at McDonalds was filled with silence. Did I share my faith with him? I think so, but sometimes people aren’t in a place to hear it and respond.

Later that night I was in line to board an airplane with Lindsey as we were preparing to make our way to visit her parents in Florida. Due to an oversight with the airline, they overbooked our flight and bumped one of us to first class. I pleaded with my wife to take the ticket, to enjoy the flight from the comfort of high society, but (like the true disciple she is) she insisted that I take the upgrade and stretch out my legs.

I had never been in first class before and was excited and nervous about the experience. When I found my seat I discovered that I would be sitting next to a man who was already watching an episode of South Park on the screen in front of him, jovially chuckling to himself. I got comfortable, and while the rest of the common people were entering the plane, a stewardess came by to take our drink order. I said that I was fine and went back to my book when my seat-mate looked at me like I was an idiot and said, “Son, getting a drink is the best part of flying first class!” and proceeded to order a Jack-and-Coke.

Four Jack-and-Cokes later we were in the air and I had my laptop open and my bible in my lap when the man leaned over to talk. I thought, “this time the person is coming to me” and I quickly prayed that God might give me something to say.

“What are you working on?”

“It’s a sermon for Sunday; I’m a pastor.”

“Well then, what are you reading?”

“It’s the Bible?”

“What do you think of it? Any good?” (Like he was asking about a John Grisham novel)

“It’s the living Word of God for the people of God.”

He paused and looked as if he was trying to figure out if I was serious or not, and slowly brought his headphones back to his ear, and drink to his mouth.

Did I share my faith with him? I think so, but sometimes people aren’t in a place to hear it and respond.

Lindsey wasn’t feeling well when we returned from Florida so we decided to hit the Minute-Clinic at Walmart to find out if she needed a prescription or not. Remembering that she so graciously volunteered for me to ride in First Class, I thought it only appropriate that I drive and stay with her during the appointment. The waiting area was rather crowded, so I saw Lindsey to her seat and decided to sit on a bench outside of the room. I had a book with me and was looking forward to some light reading when I noticed a very disheveled man sitting on the bench all alone.

His mullet was knotted and unkempt. His smell was palpable from a few paces away. His clothes were stained and ill-fitting. His skin was blotchy and unhealthy. And I knew that I needed to share my faith with him.

Unlike the previous two attempts I did not feel the pressure of the Spirit nagging me to do something, and I did not have a bible with me to spark a conversation, so instead I just decided to be myself, rather than someone else.

I introduced myself and sat down. He kept staring off into the distance, clearly focused on other things and remained unfazed by my presence.

“Do you mind if I ask you a question?”

He shrugged as if to say “I don’t care”

“How are you doing?”

He slowly turned his head to look at the stranger sitting next to him and he began to answer the question. I learned about how he and his wife had fallen on hard times and could no longer purchase anything other than food. He shared with me his own personal frustrations with not being able to provide for his family. He talked about how people are so blind to the needs of others in our community because they just assume that everyone is fine. He vented about employment opportunities and the lack of fairness in the hiring process because businesses are only looking to hire people who think and look just like themselves. And he told me that he was at Walmart so that his wife could walk around the store and feel like she was shopping even though they would be going home empty handed.

The conversation went on and on and I let the man speak, I let him go wherever he needed, and I just sat there and listened. When the time came his wife found us sitting on the bench and he told me that it was time to go. I could tell that he was in a better place than he was before the conversation, perhaps because he was finally able to get some of his worries off his chest, and before he left he turned around to shake my hand and said, “Thanks for listening -nobody else does.”

Did I share my faith with him? I think so, but sometimes our actions speak louder than our words.

I don’t know for sure what compelled the first four disciples to drop their nets and follow Jesus, but I imagine it had a lot to do with his actions. Jesus loved to eat among the poor and the outcast, he loved to seek out the last and the lost, and he was known for listening to people in the midst of their trials and tribulations.

Sharing our faith is a difficult task because it requires us to be vulnerable and step into situations that might blow up in our faces. It implies a willingness to believe that faith is something so important and life-giving that it is worth sharing no matter what. Sharing our faith means we have to start acting like Jesus outside the walls of church to meet people where they are and listen.

When was the last time you shared your faith with someone? Amen