Devotional – Psalm 147.1

Posted on February 2, 2015 by taylormertins

Devotional:

Psalm 147.1

Praise the Lord! How good it is to sing praises to our God; for he is gracious, and a song of praise is fitting.

Selecting the hymns for worship on Sunday mornings is a pastoral privilege. Each week I pray over the words for the sermon and seek to find hymns that fit with the general direction of worship. Our hymnal is an invaluable resource that helps us to discover God’s majesty in ways that are powerful and beautiful.

Growing up as a United Methodist, I cherished our hymnal and learned to “sing my faith” on a weekly basis. Though I regularly listened to secular music, is was the tunes from the likes of “O For a Thousand Tongues to Sing” and “Be Thou My Vision” that I found myself whistling and humming during the day. When I became a pastor, and therefore received the responsibility of selecting our hymns, I was very thankful that some of the previous pastors at St. John’ penciled in the dates for hymn selections in the office copy. I immediately knew which tunes were familiar, and which hymns would be a little harder to sing.

Yesterday our worship service was focused on the importance of love being greater than knowledge. I went through my usual sermon preparation and then went to the hymnal and decided that #617 “I Come with Joy” would be a great way to start our worship service (particularly since we would also be feasting at the Lord’s Table). I processed down the center aisle with an acolyte as the organ moved along and the gathered body was singing, but when we arrived at the 4th verse, perhaps by a push from the Holy Spirit, our organist stopped playing and allowed for us to sing a cappella. The words resonated throughout our sanctuary in such a way that I felt shivers in my body: “And thus with joy we meet our Lord. His presence, always near, is in such friendship better known; we see and praise him here, we see and praise him here.”

The psalmist writes that is good for us to sing praises to our God for he is gracious. When the gathered body is together and we can sing the hymns with every fiber of our being, we are truly praising the Lord! However, singing praises to God is not something that is limited to Sunday morning alone; every day is a new opportunity to sing praises to our gracious God. We can do this through our actions, our prayers, and our conversations with others. So long as we remember that God is the source of goodness in life, singing God’s praise will be as natural as breathing.

This week, as we seek to love God and neighbor, let us explore the many different ways we can sing our praises to the Lord. It can be as easy as humming one of your favorite hymns, and it can be as simple as thanking God for something wonderful in your life. Let us praise the Lord!

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 – Psalm 139.4

Posted on January 12, 2015 by taylormertins

Devotional:

Psalm 139.4

Even before a word is on my tongue, O Lord, you know it completely.

I was in the middle of wrapping Christmas presents when my cell phone began to ring. My fingers were covered in tape and I fumbled with answering the phone while keeping the paper pulled tight over the box. Frankly, I’m not a very good wrapper, so I welcomed the distraction of the call with hopes that it would somehow result in me taking enough time away that I would return with perfect wrapping capabilities. The season of Advent and Christmas can be very lonely for pastors as they seek to serve the needs of others so I was greatly pleased when I saw that my friend, and best man, was calling me out of the blue.

Josh and I met in seminary, and when we graduated he went out to Wichita, KS to work for the Apprentice Institute at Friends University while I became a pastor in the UMC. Josh and his wife recently welcomed their first daughter into the world (Isla Rose) and I specifically tried to not overburden him with phone calls and video-chats, even though I wanted to hear and see everything about his family and time as a father. I have known for a long time that he would be a great Dad and I was excited to hear about how things were going for him when he called. However, the phone conversation focused on a topic of conversation that I was not necessarily prepared for.

We spent the first few minutes catching up about the typical things when Josh’s tone suddenly changed and I knew he was calling for a specific reason. Instead of piling up the preliminary excuses and attempting to justify his decision he put it simply: “I am leaving my work with Apprentice, and going to work in the secular world.” At first I was completely shocked; Josh is one of the greatest disciples I have ever met, he ministered to me while we were in school together, and he would no longer be working for the church. He shared with me his reasons (all valid) and my shock quickly changed to compassion. He told me that he had been wrestling with the decision for a long time but was afraid to share it with me. He was worried that I would be disappointed or react in such a way that it would change our friendship.

I am disappointed that the Church has lost such a great and promising leader, but at the same time I recognize that the Spirit moves in mysterious ways and perhaps Josh can now be even more fruitful for the kingdom of God. I believe that God has moved in Josh’s life for this specific change and it will bring glory to the triune God here on earth. My only wish is that Josh would not have feared about my reaction, and would have known that nothing could change our friendship.

God knows our words and thoughts even before they are on our tongues and minds. God’s love remains steadfast toward us regardless of our decisions and actions. Can you imagine how differently we would interact with others if we trusted them the same way that we trust God? Can you picture what that kind of love and forgiveness would look like in your life?

This week, let us show our friends how much we love them. All it might take is a phone call, an email, or a text message, but it could make all the difference in the world.

Devotional: Mark 1.4

Posted on January 5, 2015 by taylormertins

Devotional:

Mark 1.4

John the baptizer appeared in the wilderness, proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins.

I had been waiting at the garage for longer than I had hoped. I had neglected to take the car in for an inspection during the month of November, and I was running the risk of receiving a ticket for my negligence. I was prepared to speak with my hypothetical police officer about the numerous demands on clergy during Advent, but every time I made the list of excuses in my head, the more pitiful they became. Only after Christmas was I willing to finally bite the bullet and wait for my car to be inspected.

I thought it would be a quick in-and-out appointment, but I continued to sit in the waiting room while my car was being checked out. After thirty minutes, I saw my car coming out of the garage and was re-parked right outside the window. However, when I approached the cashier, she informed me that I still needed to wait. The time passed idly by while I made small talk with the other customers about being a pastor in town and the recent arrival of the holidays, but the repair shop neglected to call my name even while my car was parked outside with a new inspection sticker clearly placed on the front window. I tried to be as patient as possible, but when I could no longer take it I went back to the cashier and explained the situation, to which she apologized for making me wait for nothing, and handed me my keys. She explained that the paperwork had been lost in the shuffle and asked if there was anything she could do. I laughed to myself and then said, “It’s okay, I’m a pastor and I’m supposed practice what I preach, including patience.”

After church yesterday afternoon, my wife and I were enjoying lunch at a local pizza shop when she brought up the familiar topic of practicing what I preach. The sermon had been about forgiveness and the need to act on the words that we so faithfully pray in the Lord’s Prayer every week, and it was clear the Lindsey wanted to explore the topic further. She spoke in a way that halted and haunted me: “Taylor, you kept talking about our need to forgive. Is there anyone that you need to forgive? Or better yet, do you think there’s anyone out there who might be wrestling with whether or not to forgive you?”

John appeared proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins. It is too easy, particularly from my side of the pulpit, to neglect the need to repent for my faults, and forgive others around me. It is even harder to open my eyes to the fact that there might be people who have not forgiven me for something I have done. As we take our first steps into 2015, let it be the year we actually practice what we preach. Let us strive to be people of patience, forgiveness, and repentance. Let us be brave with our love, and seek to be truly reconciled with everyone around us.

Forgiving the Dust – Sermon on Genesis 3.19 & Matthew 6.9-15

Posted on January 5, 2015 by taylormertins

Genesis 3.19

By the sweat of your face you shall eat bread until you return to the ground, for out of it you were taken; you are dust, and to dust you shall return.

Matthew 6.9-15

“Pray then this way: Our Father in heaven, hallowed be your name. Your kingdom come. Your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread. And forgive our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors. And do not bring us to the time of trial, but rescue us from the evil one.” For if you forgive others their trespasses, your heavenly father will also forgive you; but if you do not forgive others, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses.

This morning marks the beginning of our two part Sermon Series on Questions. After polling the gathered body about the types of questions you all have about God, Faith, and the Church this series was created. We begin by looking at two of the most prevalent questions: What does it mean to forgive? Should the dead be cremated or buried?

Strange things are done for funerals. There are people who insist on placing the favorite objects or tokens from the deceased into the casket in order to bring comfort to the dead, after they’re dead. Others take the ashes of their loved ones to have them placed under high pressure and temperature and have them formed into diamonds to be worn on a finger or necklace. In some communities the location of the burial spot has less to do with geology and availability as it does regarding the direction of the grave.

In Western North Carolina almost every cemetery is organized so that the gravestone, and therefore the bodies, are facing east. While I helped a church in Bryson City, North Carolina it was not uncommon to hear stories about families standing at the graveside, deeply grieving in their loss, when a distant cousin or uncle would pull out a trusty compass and declare that they had the body facing the wrong direction. Whether built in a valley or up on a hill, EVERY grave had to face east. Part of this comes from biblical reasons, but I always heard that it was done so that when Jesus comes back with the sunrise, he wants to see smiling faces, and not rear-ends.

Because I work for the church, I have the privilege to be with people at the paramount of their suffering and help guide them through their grief and pain. Whereas most of the world refuses to talk about death and what comes with it, I relish in the opportunity to declare that even though death is real, it has been defeated. We tend to treat death as an unspeakable subject, when it is at the very heart of what it means to be human.

Even with the sorrow that death brings, I must also admit that comedy often comes along with it.

I could tell you about all the truly scandalous things I have learned about the departed when I meet with a family to plan the funeral. We share stories about the person’s life, what they were passionate about, what set them a part from others. But at some point, and it almost always happens, the friends and families begin to share stories that should not be repeated. I sit there with my pen and paper in hand, fighting the urge to write down every perfect bit of gossip I hear, until someone usually realizes who they are talking to and they politely request that I neglect to mention those parts during the sermon.

I could tell you about how nobody knew what to do with the ashes of my grandfather’s brother after he passed so they just kept him around for awhile. And when my great-grandmother died, my grandfather asked the funeral home if he could spend a few moments alone with her after the viewing. Feigning some sort of important spiritual and prayerful goodbye, he quickly walked up once the room was empty, took a gallon size zip-lox bag containing uncle Preston, and carefully hid him in the casket with my great-grandmother.

I could tell you about how the first time I met Dick Dickerson, he shared with me all sorts of stories regarding his wife Mildred and he kept motioning over toward the kitchen. I thought that this was a sweet and precious habit that was born out of their relationship, and that Dick was habituated into remembering her being in the kitchen, but when I asked him about it, he laughed out loud and told me that he was keeping her ashes in a bag above the sink.

It is important to remember that it okay to laugh after death. That first laugh or smile often comes with a feeling of guilt, but, if I can be so bold as to speak for the people I have buried, they would be happy to know that we are happy.

Strange things are done for funerals. Sometimes they bring the best out in people; a prodigal son returns home to bury his father; a wayward daughter reconnects with her family. But other times, they bring out the worst.

There were two brothers who fiercely loved their mother. Raised by her alone after losing their father at a young age, they worshipped her and were so very thankful for all that she had given them. The time came for them to start their own families, but they never neglected to remember their wonderful mother. It came as a shock to the local community when she passed away rather abruptly, but the wake of her death was truly felt between her sons.

They met with the pastor to go over funeral arrangements when the fight began…

The older son wanted his mother to be cremated. He claimed it was what she desired and had shared the detail with him on a number of occasions.

The younger son wanted his mother to be buried. He respected her wishes, but he was utterly convinced that the bible said you have to be buried in the ground.

By the time I arrived in the community, no one could even remember what they wound up doing with the mother, but ever since that fight, the brothers had refused to speak to one another.

Both of them had good points when it came to taking care of their mother’s body- we should respect the wishes of the person, while at the same time remain faithful to scripture.

Some believe that we should only bury bodies. Their arguments are based on the concept that out bodies were made in the image of God and will be resurrected when Christ returns. Most of the key people people in both the Old and New Testaments were buried, including the one who was crucified on a cross. It allows us to properly mourn their loss, and even create a place, such as cemeteries, for us to visit and pay our respects to those who helped to shape and mold us. Moreover they claim that burning a body, cremating it, prevents it from being newly constituted in the resurrection.

Some believe that we should only cremate bodies. Their arguments are based on the concept that nothing is impossible with God, that God can most certainly recreate a body for the resurrection. All flesh eventually decays and returns to the earth becoming just like the dust from which we were created. If God can only resurrect those whose bodies are buried, then anyone who has perished under less than ideal circumstances would be withheld from the resurrection. They also argue that cremation can be less expensive than burial and therefore helps families to thrive and serve God and neighbor. They choose to keep the ashes in an urn or scatter them in such a way that it is done in a fruitful and honorable manner.

Bottom line: we are dust, and to dust we shall return. When we die, whether we are cremated or buried in the ground, we are gone. Our bodies remain and eventually return to the dust from which God brought us into being. Nothing is impossible for God. When the time comes for the bodily resurrection, nothing, and I mean nothing, can stop God from forming us into our new bodies, bodies that will not look like the ones we had here on earth, bodies that are brilliant and beyond our imagination. What becomes important for us is the need to be present with the friends and families for those who have died, and be loving in the way that we see to their needs, whatever they are, in order to help them grieve and mourn.

I never had a chance to talk with the brothers about their argument before the funeral. This happened long in the past. I never had a moment for a surprise intervention or reconciliation. I wish I had the opportunity because this is what I would share with them:

“One of the bravest and strangest things we do as Christians is pray the Lord’s Prayer. Asked by his disciples about the way to pray, Jesus taught his friends to say the words that each of us say every Sunday in church. We collectively pray to OUR father, not MY father, or Jesus’ Father, but OUR father. We request that our limited daily means be met, we yearn for the bread that gives us life. And then we pray for God to forgive us just as we forgive those around us. We pray this to God because we are not strong enough to do it on our own and we need the Spirit to move in us and strengthen us for the terrifically difficult work of forgiveness.

You two lost your mother, you lost the rock that so much of your lives were founded upon. The one who was always there for you, cared for you, and nurtured you was gone and you wanted to do everything you could for her funeral to be perfect. Yet, you let your own opinions get the better of you, and you let your selfishness blind you from the kind of love your mother made manifest here among us. Your mother is gone, I know you might not be ready to hear it, the grief might still be too difficult to bear, but she is gone. She is now with OUR heavenly father.

What are you two going to do with the lives she gave you, what are you going to do with the lives that God gave you? Will you continue to bear grudges against each other, refuse to speak and commune, ignore the needs of your respective brother? Will you let an argument about funeral practices divide you from the only family you have left?

Forgiveness is the hardest thing in the world; to see the other and look past everything that have done to hurt you and belittle you, and act on love rather than hate. We don’t forgive because God told us to, and we don’t forgive because its what your mother would have wanted, we forgive because its the last thing worth working for. Without forgiveness we are nothing.

God’s love knows no bounds. Neither should ours. Look at each other and stop seeing the old arguments and disagreements, look at each other forgive.”

Strange things are done for funerals and they can bring out the best, or the worst, in us. It is my prayer that funerals might bring out the best in us. Instead of limiting them to a simple worship service to praise God, think about how we could truly recognize the gift of the one who has gone, and strive to live better and braver lives. Let us see those tense and vulnerable moments, like funerals, as opportunities to forgive and start anew with the people in our lives.

Forgiveness is a difficult thing. It is irrational, draining, and frightening. It requires bravery rarely seen, faith rarely developed, and hope rarely witnessed. Yet, if Christ was willing to forgive those who hung him on the cross, if God is willing to forgive us all our trespasses, just imagine how many things we can forgive in our lives, even the dust.

Amen.

Christmas In The Room – Christmas Eve Sermon on John 1.1-5

Posted on December 26, 2014 by taylormertins

John 1.1-5

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things came into being through him, and without him not one thing came into being. What has come into being in him was life, and the life was the light of all people. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.

Merry Christmas! To me, there are few things as wonderful as gathering together to celebrate the birth of Christ. This is what church is all about; a community coming together to rejoice in our Savior.

Have you noticed all the lights around the neighborhoods? The different decorations throughout Staunton? Have you seen all the wonderful manger scenes displayed in front yards and on coffee tables?

One of the things I love most about Christmas is that every year we try new things to make Christmas real again. Many of us are very familiar with the story; we can imagine the angel Gabriel appearing before Mary, we can picture the manger scene with all the animals gathering close to baby Jesus, we can almost hear the angelic host proclaiming the Good News to the shepherds. This story has so captivated our hearts, minds, and imaginations that every year we gather to remember it in new and exciting ways.

This year our Preschool chose to remember the story by putting on a Christmas pageant. Now this wasn’t your simple and typical pageant; almost every one of our students had a line to perform in the microphone in front of a packed sanctuary. We practiced for weeks in the chancel area, rehearsing our lines, standing in our spots, and getting the story exactly right. On the morning of the big show, the kids and I were all here going through every bit one last time. However, this was the first time that they were all in costume.

Some of our precious three years olds were sheep, though they looked more like pillows as they walked to the microphone and quietly whispered: “I shared my wool with baby Jesus.” We had a manger mouse with big ears and a tail who said with a smile: “I peeked at baby Jesus!” We even had an angel choir of two-year olds who started from the back and walked all the way down carrying electric candles to guide the wisemen.

When it came time for Mary and Joseph to appear I was so pleased with how well everything was going. This was going to be a great performance for all of the friends and family. Our little Mary came up to the microphone to sweetly say, “A baby will soon be born.” And then Joseph, one of our most precocious four year olds, said with loud emphasis: “I MUST FIND A PLACE FOR US TO STAY!”

Everything was perfect. The kids were sitting quietly in place, they had all nailed their lines, and I could just imagine all of the tears that would be spilt watching these precious lambs of Jesus Christ. I even found myself getting emotional. I remember thinking: “this is what Christmas is all about.” Look at these children retelling the story centuries later. They embody the sweetness that just have been felt in the manger. Their child-like innocence is why God came into the world for us. Those little kids made Christmas real for me.

That was, until I noticed our little Mary fidgeting around by the crib. We continued with the pageant but Mary was far more focused on the little baby-doll Jesus than anything else. “Well,” I thought, “she’s just being attentive like any good mother would be” when all of the sudden she picked up Jesus by his ankle, dangled him back and forth and then dropped him on his plastic head!

The realness of Christmas was quickly replaced with the reality of Preschoolers being dressed up like animals and adults acting out the story.

Every Christmas we strive to reimagine the story so that we can reconnect with it’s incredible message.

There is a church somewhere in the midwest that REALLY believes in retelling the story. On Christmas Eve they invite people from the community into their sanctuary, but they don’t just listen to a pastor in the pulpit, they don’t just pray in their pews, they bring in all sorts of animals and actors to make it come alive.

Animal trainers help guide the donkeys and sheep into the space and lead them up to the altar near a newborn baby being cradled by his mother. The church has a full orchestra and light show to go along with the actors and animals; they have no limitations when it comes to fully immersing the people in the story.

However, a few years ago the church became responsible for a viral video that made its way across the internet. At the height of the production, as the human-angels were hung by wires to sing Hallelujah, as the majestic magi were making their way up to the altar, as people were completely captivated by the story, a camel was being led down the center aisle.

It was at that precise moment, at the paramount of the Christmas production, the camel decided that he no longer wanted to be part of the story. The video shows the trainer in the middle of the church struggling to guide the camel forward, the camel ignoring his suggestive movements, and deciding that he should take a break on top of all of the people sitting on the right hand side. Like a tree falling in the woods, the camel fell to his side and quickly buried a few people under his girth.

The realness of Christmas was quickly replaced with the reality of what happens when you bring the zoo into a church.

Every Christmas we strive to reimagine the story so that we can reconnect with it’s incredible message.

Years ago I went to church on Christmas Eve and experienced a service unlike any other. Instead of a typical sermon, the pastor decided to make it into a drama with particular characters acting out the story.

Mary and Joseph stood on opposite sides of the altar, wearing robes from the days of old. The gazed off into the distance pondering the incredible messages the the angel Gabriel had shared with each of them.

While the pastor described the man named Joseph, he began to remove his robes, shedding the costume from the past, and revealed a middle age man wearing a business suit. The pastor was attempting to make the story real again by showing what it would look like if it happened today. Joseph was a respected man and much older than Mary. Can you imagine how he would have reacted when he found out that she was pregnant? Can you picture how embarrassed he must have been by her?

While the pastor described the woman named Mary, she began to remove her robes, shedding the costume from the past, and revealed a teenage girl wearing a cheerleading uniform. Mary was a young woman with future full of potential. She was much younger than Joseph, and was told by the angel that she would conceive a son by the power of the Holy Spirit while still a virgin. Do you think she believed this was Good News? Can you imagine how her family would have regarded her for becoming pregnant before getting married?

There stood Mary and Joseph, not the couple from the manger scenes kneeling quietly over the new born king, but a business man and a cheerleader who would be ridiculed by the community.

The realness of Christmas was quickly replaced by the reality of social relations that develop when an unwed teenage girl becomes pregnant.

Every Christmas we strive to reimagine the story so that we can reconnect with it’s incredible message.

I always look forward to this season because it affords me the opportunity to ask others what they love about Christmas. I often hear about the joy of opening gifts, the wonder of putting up all the decorations, and even the changed behavior of children in response to the elf on the shelf. Yet all of those things don’t make Christmas real. Yes they make it feel like Christmas, but they do not fully convey the depth of what it means for God to have come into the world as a baby in Bethlehem.

For me, Christmas is at it’s realest when we light our candles as we sing Silent Night. Some of my earliest memories are standing in a dark sanctuary on Christmas Eve while people around me are singing. In mere minutes the darkness is replaced by a brilliant light, made remarkable by the God who took on our flesh to dwell among us, to be God with us.

Jesus is the light of the world who shines in the darkness. Whatever that darkness might look like for you, whether it be an uncertain future, fears about your children, frustrating family members, the loss of a loved one, a heavy diagnosis, or the lack of love in your life, Jesus stands in stark contrast as the one who brings the light into our lives.

Christmas Eves always mean the most and convey the most when we feel the depth of the darkness. Because new life always starts in the dark. Whether it is a seed in the ground, a baby in the womb, or Jesus in the tomb, new life starts in the dark.

At the end of our service we will turn out all the lights, from the one candle, the Christ candle, we will light all others as we sing Silent Night. As we do so let us open our eyes the different forms of darkness in our lives and give thanks to the light of the world who shines in the darkness.

It will feel like Christmas in the room, when we hear the familiar words that have been sung for centuries exclaiming the great joy of the newborn king.

It will feel like Christmas in the room, when we gather as God’s table to feast on the bread of life and drink from the cup of salvation.

It will feel like Christmas in the room, when we see the light of Christ shining in one another.

Merry Christmas. Amen.

Devotional – Isaiah 9.2

Posted on December 22, 2014 by taylormertins

Devotional:

Isaiah 9.2

The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who lived in a land of deep darkness – on them has light shined.

This Wednesday (at 3pm and 7pm) our church will welcome a number of people for whom church attendance is limited to Christmas Eve and Easter. In the church community these people are often referred to as “Chreasters” or the “C and E crowd.” I can remember as a child how wonderful it felt to be at church on Christmas Eve and see all sorts of people from the community worshipping together who never attend for any other occasion. Christmas Eve is one of the profound worship experiences that brings all sorts of people together to praise God for coming into the world as a baby in a manger.

One of my friends, and former pastor, Jason Micheli has this to say about the “Chreasters” who only attend church on a limited basis: “The dirty little secret is that often the way preachers and church people talk about ‘Chreasters’ makes them sound like the bad guys, like we want to make them feel guilty for not being regular church-going people. Which doesn’t make any sense to me because I gotta think ‘Chreasters’ are exactly the sort of people Jesus would prefer to hang out with… So rather than looking down on them with guilt-inducing contempt. We should, like the Lord we adore, simply welcome them in the thrill to be with them.” (you can read more of Jason’s thoughts about ‘Chreasters’ here: Tamed Cynic)

For this one night, we have the privilege to sit beside weary travelers on the roads of life who, for whatever reason, have decided to worship the Lord. It is nothing short of a blessing to find churches filled with people on Christmas Eve because it is a time for us to proclaim that wonderful and great truth: God is with us. Many will come because they feel suffocated by the darkness of life’s burdens, and we will be there with them as they experience the light of the world.

This Christmas Eve, wherever you worship, I encourage you to open your eyes to ALL who gather to celebrate the new born king. Do not look down on the “Chreasters” with contempt for their limited worship, but instead give thanks to God for putting them in your life. Above all, be fully present with those around you and rejoice knowing that the light of the world shines in the darkness.

Merry Christmas.

Faith Hall of Fame – Hebrews 11.32-40

Posted on December 22, 2014 by taylormertins

Hebrews 11.32-40

And what more should I say? For time would fail me to tell of Gideon, Barak, Samson, Jephthah, of David and Samuel and the prophets — who through faith conquered kingdoms, administered justice, obtained promises, shut the mouths of lions, quenched raging fire, escaped the edge of the sword, won strength out of weakness, became mighty in war, put foreign armies to flight. Women received their dead by resurrection. Others were tortured, refusing to accept release, in order to obtain a better resurrection. Others suffered mocking and flogging, and even chains and imprisonment. They were stoned to death, they were sawn in two, they were killed by the sword; they went about in skins of sheep and goats, destitute, persecuted, tormented — of whom the world was not worthy. They wandered in deserts and mountains, and in caves and holes in the ground. Yet all these, though they were commended for their faith, did not receive what was promised, since God had provided something better so they would not, apart from us, be made perfect.

Today we conclude our Advent Sermon Series on “New Beginnings.” This is the final Sunday leading up to Christmas day, and over the last few weeks we have prepared our hearts and minds for the coming of God in Christ. We began with Abram being called into a strange land. Next we looked at Samuel being called by name in the temple. Last week we explored Paul’s conversion on the road to Damascus. This morning we conclude by looking at the Faith Hall of Fame from Hebrews 11.

And what more should I say? For time would fail me to tell of Fletcher Swink, Sam Stanley, Zig Volskis, Patricia Meadows, and the other pastors — who through faith endured frustrating congregations, proclaimed God’s presence, fought for justice, became mighty in honor, and brought people to the Lord.

Hebrews 11 contains what I call the “Faith Hall of Fame.” The entire chapter is devoted to the great leaders and prophets from the Old Testament and their willingness to stand up for God even when it meant certain doom. They so fervently believed that God was with them, that they were willing to embark on new beginnings when others refused to obey.

The closest thing we have to a Faith Hall of Fame here at St. John’s can be found in our parlor next to the narthex. Inside you will discover a picture of every pastor that has had the good fortune to serve this church since 1954. From Fletcher Swink to yours truly, every pastor has been framed and dated, hung with care, and honored with a spot on the wall.

Have you ever taken the time to look through the pictures? It was one of the first things I did when I was newly appointed, and frankly the room terrifies me. Whenever I sit in the parlor with a group of people, I feel the heavy gaze of the pastors, they look down from their Faith Hall of Fame, and I can’t help but wonder what they think of me.

Marshall Kirby begged me my first week to give him a picture so that he could put me up with everyone else. I hesitated. For weeks he bugged me about getting the picture, about having it be just the right size and tint to blend in with the others. But I continued to put it off. I kept making excuses about how busy I was, or about the priorities I needed to focus on, but the truth is, I didn’t feel worthy of going on the wall. I had been here for such a short amount of time and felt that I hadn’t done anything that earned me a spot in the Hall of Fame.

When I’m in the parlor, when I experience the St. John’s Hall of Fame, I think about all the things they must have gone through to bring this church to where it is. I think about Fletcher Swink starting the church down the road at the Auto Parts store. I imagine that it required a tremendous amount of faith to believe that God had call him from Durham, NC to Staunton, VA to start a new church; to make something of nothing. How many nights did he pray for God to send him people, how many afternoons did he spend worrying about the new building project, how often did he confront frustrated parishioners about his sermons?

When I’m in the parlor, when I experience the St. John’s Hall of Fame, I think about Patricia Meadows being appointed as the first female pastor. I wonder about how hard she had to work to gain the trust of the people, what lengths she had to go to to reignite the flame of faith. I imagine the deep prayers she offered to God about sending new sheep to her flock, the lonely days of sermon preparation, and the terrifying moments of standing by the graveside with friends and family from the church. How often did she wrestle with her call when she felt persecuted, how many days did she spend praying for the people of our community when they were no longer able to offer their own prayers, how did she feel standing up against the injustices around her?

I wonder about all the pastors of this church, and what they went through for God’s kingdom. What was it that set them apart? What did they do that helped to grow and nurture faith in this community?

Last week I was standing in the parlor, admiring the past, when I realized how similar our Faith Hall of Fame is to the one listed in Hebrews 11.

The people of Israel’s past were not of special value. Gideon was hesitant and timid when he was called by God; Barak had to be shamed by Deborah into fighting for the Lord; Jephthah is remembered mostly for his rash oath; Samson was weak of mind and conscience.

Similarly, there is nothing particularly special about those who have served our church. Though undoubtedly unique, they contained no special powers that set them apart from other clergy. Each of them had strengths and weaknesses that became manifest while they served the church.

Our pastors, and the heroes from Israel’s past, were set apart because they did all things “through faith.” They worked knowing that the real significance of what they had done would never be seen in their own time, but something that would come much later. They suffered through persecution and injustice because they believed in God’s goodness even when the world claimed the contrary.

We remember the ways our pastors have suffered: Angry emails/letters about inappropriate sermons, knowing glances and whispers from the committee members in the parking lot (where the real meetings happen). Shouts and finger pointing during counseling sessions. Years of loneliness serving a church full of people who cannot see the pastor as anything other than pastor. Doubts when preparing funerals for people in the community.

We read about all the ways the faithful of Israel suffered: torture, mocking, flogging, chains and imprisonment. Stoned to death, sawn in two, killed by the sword, wandered about in the skins of sheep and goats, destitute, persecuted, and tormented.

This is what evil does to the good. It attacks at the core of our being, shakes our faith, and encourages us to doubt. Yet, reading these words and remembering our church’s past should bring us courage and hope. We see in them the willingness of people to go and risk it all for God. Pastors who remained brave and faithful when others tried to break them down. Prophets who spoke the truth when others sought to kill them. We see in them the true courage that faith can develop.

It only takes a moment to see this tremendous faith in the world today, people standing up against injustice when the world argues the contrary. Consider the droves of people standing with their hands up and holding signs that say “Black Lives Matter” in response to Ferguson. Consider the droves of people standing shoulder to shoulder with the LGBTQ community during Pride marches in response to fanatical attacks against sexuality.

We remember and read and see the ways people suffer for God’s kingdom and we commend them for their willingness to go and be grace for the world. God sends into our confused and cruel humanity his messengers and prophets. God sends them into the midst of the wolves so that we might not be left to our evil ways, that we may see in them hope for tomorrow, and in response turn back to the God of mercy.

Yet all these, though they are commended for their faith, did not receive what was promised, since God had provided something better so they would not, apart from us, be made perfect. Whether Gideon, Barak, Fletcher Swink, or Zig Volskis, their completion depends on us. Their faith rested in God who would fulfill his promises. They served the Lord as an anchor cast into the days ahead; faith is built on hope for the future.

Abraham’s faith would have been in vain if his descendants never made it to the Land of Promise. Samuel’s faith would have been in vain if he had not responded to God calling him by name in the temple. Paul’s faith would have been in vain if the resurrected Christ had not appeared to him on the road to Damascus.

Apart from us they cannot be made perfect. The completion of those from the Faith Hall of Fame depends on us. We can fulfill their faith even today by going out and being Christ’s body for the world.

We remember the past of scripture, and the past of our church, but we are not to idealize it. We cannot be blind to the mistakes of those who came before us, or allow the past to fasten its dead hand upon us, binding us down to fruitless ideas, ancient prejudices, and old failures. We look back so that we can look forward. Just because “thats the way we’ve always done it” does not mean “thats the way we must do it now.”

Yet too often we forget how indebted we are to the past. We neglect to remember how faithful Abram, Samuel, and Paul were. We brush aside all the pastors who worked with every fiber of their being to bring about God’s kingdom here on earth. Every good thing that we have and enjoy was consecrated by the sacrifices of the past. We have faith because the people of the past passed it along to us. So today, we in our turn cast our anchors into the future. Without those who are to come after us, without the youth of our church and without the children of our preschool, we shall not be made perfect.

We are who we are because of the past. We will become what God intends for us because of the legacy we pass on to the future. Our new beginning comes when we cast our hope into the future of God’s kingdom, when we stand up for something new and different that breaks from the past, when we take steps in faith knowing that God is with us.

God is with us. In a few days we will gather again to celebrate Christ being born into the world to be God with us. We will look to that lowly manger and remember that God came to dwell among us and encourage us to be brave people of faith who remember the past and cast our hope into the future. Our purpose does not depend on our own power, but on the strength of love that comes from the Lord and in community with one another.

I still feel uncomfortable whenever I’m in the parlor. Sets of eyes follow me from the past, and I see in them everything they went through to bring our church to where it is. I believe in their hope cast into the future. In all of you I see the seeds that they planted long ago that are blossoming into true discipleship today.

I see my picture on the wall and feel unworthy. But that’s when I remember that it’s not about me and it’s not about what I do. It’s about what God does through me. It’s about what God does through you. Amen.

God With Us – Homily on James 5.13-20

Posted on December 10, 2014 by taylormertins

I was recently asked to speak to a local group of ICM Chaplains about the importance of carrying our faith into the workplace. It was an honor and a privilege to speak with such great chaplains and enjoy an evening of fellowship together. Below is the homily I preached for the occasion.

James 5.13-20

Are any song you suffering? They should pray. Are any cheerful? They should sing songs of praise. Are any among you sick? They should call for the elders of the church and have them pray over them, anointing them with oil in the name of the Lord. The prayer of faith will save the sick, and the Lord will raise them up; and anyone who has committed sins will be forgiven. Therefore confess your sins to one another, and pray for one another, so that you may be healed. The prayer of the righteous is powerful and effective. Elijah was a human being like us, and he prayed fervently that it might not rain, and for three years and six months it did not rain on the earth. Then he prayed again, and the heaven gave rain and the earth yielded its harvest. My brothers and sisters, if anyone among you wanders from the truth and is brought back by another, you should know that whoever brings back a sinner from wandering will save the sinner’s soul from death and will cover a multitude of sins.

She walked with a limp and was struggling under the oppressive humidity. Employed by the church as a custodian, the older woman largely kept to herself but you could tell that she was remarkably lonely. I had taken the time to express kind greetings throughout the summer but they never developed into a conversation. I was serving as an intern at a rural church in the deep recesses of Western North Carolina and I spent most of my days exploring the Great Smokey Mountains instead of sitting in my stuffy office reading over my sermons for Sundays.

Her loneliness was palpable enough that I finally decided to do something about it, and one Thursday morning toward the end of my time I invited her to come on hike with me along a creek right outside of town. I had been part of the church long enough to know that the building itself often casts a shadow over the lives of the people who call it home, and if you really want to get to know someone, you’ve got to go somewhere else.

She walked with a limp and was struggling under the oppressive humidity. I offered her my water bottle while we sat along the creek and let our feet cool off in the water. While sitting side by side I realized that I knew nothing about her outside of her name, but over the next thirty minutes I learned more about her than anyone else in town. Without prompting, without asking any questions, she started to spill forth details that had remained buried for a long time. I learned that she had been a writer in Chicago pursuing truth wherever possible, I learned about her desire to have children but had a husband who felt otherwise, I learned about the husband’s pension for physical punishment, I learned about the night he had one too many and beat her so bad she wound up in the hospital with a limp and brain damage, I learned about how she fled to escape his wrath to North Carolina, I learned about how she could only find work as a church custodian because of her physical problems, I learned that she felt alone, afraid, and empty.

We prayed. We prayed and prayed out in those woods. We spilt tears into the creek and we asked for God’s peace. Before we returned to town, my curiosity was too strong to not ask the question on my heart: “Why did you tell me all of that?” I asked. “Because you didn’t ask, you just listened.”

He came to the prayer meetings but never said a word. Every Wednesday morning the family men would sit in one of the parlors at the church and pray for one another before leaving for work. 40 such men had grown to value their time spent with God and one another to help them through the day ahead. We all listened about the problems at home, the children who refused to listen, the bosses who ignored their hard work, the financial struggles, and the crises of faith. It was a time of great vulnerability for us to share our doubts and frustrations without a sense of shame or judgment.

He came to the prayer meetings but never said a word. He never shared his frustration, never offered to pray. He just sat silently in the corner, sipped on his coffee, and left silently at the end of the meeting. That was the routine until one morning when he approached me and asked if he could take me out to breakfast. 20 minutes later I found myself sitting at the Birmingham Country Club in Birmingham, MI with a man who made more in a year than I will make in my entire life. He told me he had cancer, that he had not told anyone else, and that he didn’t know what to do. We prayed together while our coffee grew cold and asked for God’s grace to rain down on us in all things. Before we returned to our cars, my curiosity was too strong to not ask the question on my heart: “Why did you tell me all of that?” I asked. “Because you’re not the pastor, and I felt I could trust you.”

Icicles were beginning to form in my beard. The Christmas trees stood brilliantly arranged on the lawn of St. John’s UMC, with snow caught on the branches while families perused the plentiful selection of White Pines and Frasier Furs. I located one such family with two young children examining a tree near the end of the row. I offered to pull it off the line so they could examine from all angles and imagine it in their living room. We began talking about Staunton and what it means to be a true Stauntonian when they shared with me their desire to find a local church community. “We just moved here,” they said, “and we were hoping to plug in and meet some new people.”

“Well look no further than St. John’s” I began. “We’ve got services on Sundays, a wonderful Preschool, and people who are full of love. However, the pastor isn’t worth a can of beans.” They leaned in closer and asked with a whisper: “Well, then why do you come here if the pastor is so bad? “Because he is me. What makes our church wonderful are the people who attend, not the one who stands at the front.”

ICM: Industrial Commercial Ministries. Your mission is to be a caring presence in the workplaces you serve. You bring faith to the people as a sign of God’s love and presence. I love what you do, because you are called to be just like me, which is to say, you are called to be pastoral in the places that matter most. One of the failings of the modern church is the relegation of faithful living to one hour a week on Sunday mornings. We have diminished the role of Christian discipleship to the worship of God alone, which has allowed us to forget that we have put on Christ Monday through Saturday.

In my experience the most transformative moments in Christians’ lives take place somewhere other than church. My role as a pastor is to equip the people of God to be the body of Christ for the world. As chaplains you have the distinct privilege of sitting and praying with people in the midst of terrible valleys and incredible mountaintops. You, more than pastors, are deeply entrenched in the true mission field of 21st century Christianity.

The end of James contains one of the most beautiful calls for Christians to act like Christ: “Therefore confess your sins to one another, and pray for one another, so that you may be healed.” Being a Christian is not just about coming to church. Being Christian requires a commitment to confessing our shortcomings with one another, seeking help for the struggles of life no matter where we are and no matter what we do. Being a Christian requires us to be God’s loving and forgiving presence for people who feel they had been abandoned to the cruel fates of the world.

I give God many thanks for the work that you do as chaplains. You get to sit along the creeks of life, soaking your feet in the water, while listening to people open up about their pasts in a way that can be healing and transformative. You get to pray with people who have been dealt heavy blows regarding family issues, hopeless diagnoses, and financial burdens. You get to make Christianity wonderful by being the body of Christ for the world in the world.

I believe the Holy Spirit is moving through all of you. I believe God has done some incredible things through your willingness to meet people where they are. I believe the future of Christianity will be largely dependent on people like you who make the world become flesh in the way you live your lives.

This season of advent is perfect reminder for those of us called to be chaplains. We wait for Emmanuel, God with us, so that we can share that incredible good news with others: God is with you.

Amen.

Devotional – 1 Corinthians 15.57

Posted on November 24, 2014 by taylormertins

Devotional:

1 Corinthians 15.57

But thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.

Favorite Thanksgiving food? Mashed Potatoes (or as we call them in my family: Mashed-for-Taylors). Favorite Thanksgiving tradition? Getting together with a number of friends and family the day after thanksgiving for a giant kickball tournament (Kids vs. Adults, and I’m still young enough to be considered for the kid team!). Strange Thanksgiving memory? The year my grandmother kept praying for God to take care of the people in Siberia, when she really meant to say Syria, and none of us could figure out why she was so adamant with her prayers. Favorite Thanksgiving pastime? Standing outside with my Dad in the cold while he prepares to fry one of our turkeys.

I love Christmas and I love Easter, but Thanksgiving is equally wonderful in my opinion. There is just something so special about all the traditions coming into focus with incredible people on an annual basis. I look forward to this week with eager anticipation because I will get to see family for the first time in a long time, I will get to laugh with my sisters at the expense of our parents, and I will get to enjoy my mother’s incredible cooking.

Of all the Thanksgiving traditions, my favorite is the moment after the prayer, once we have finally sat down in our seats, when I have the privilege of inviting everyone to go around the table and share what they are most thankful for this year. At our house, tears are always inevitable. During the time of thankfulness I witness my cousins maturing to an age when they can truly appreciate some of the blessings in their life, I witness family members break down in the recognition of how wonderful their lives really are, and I witness friends and acquaintances truly become part of the family. Expressing our thankfulness at the table is, without a doubt, my favorite moment during the Thanksgiving experience because you get to share in God’s glory made manifest in the lives of those gathered together.

Over the last few months we have had too many funerals at St. John’s. Too many times have I stood in the pulpit and proclaimed the life, death, and promised resurrection of someone in our community while friends and family wept in the pews. For every funeral I have used the words from Paul: “But thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.” Even in the midst of horrendous suffering and loss we give thanks to God for the gift of those persons we have lost, we give thanks to God for His continual and abiding presence, and we give thanks to God for the great victory over death through Jesus Christ.

No matter who we are and no matter where we are, we have something to be thankful for this year. It might not be a new job, or a loving spouse. It might not be a lucrative career, or perfect children. But there is one thing that we can all be thankful for: the gift of God in Christ.

May God’s grace and presence be with all of you this week as we give thanks back to God for our blessings.