SMALL BUT PRICELESS Mark 12:38-44

Sunday, November 8, 2009 -- Twenty-third Sunday after Pentecost

The other day some friends asked me to join them to go to the mall. I wasn't really in the mood of going shopping, but I went anyway. I couldn't find what I was looking for--and didn't know what I looking for in the first place, so I went to the food court. While I was sipping through my straw, I watched other people. Out of the blue my already bad mood got even worse. Nothing unusual--it happens every single day at many different places all around the nation. For some reason, it struck me that all this trash is thrown in the dumpster. I shouldn't complain, because at least people are not littering. I know, that sometimes paper and plastic products are just easier to use--especially when feeding hundreds or thousands of people. But for whatever reason I was bothered. Maybe because I was in the wrong mood and shouldn't have gone to the mall in the first place. Maybe because I try to teach my kids at home the importance of recycling--and the answer I heard was: Mom, none of our neighbors do it. Why don't we just throw it all away in the garbage like everyone else? What difference does it make?

What difference does it make? That I try to remember to bring my own basket or cloth bag to the grocery store? That I try to recycle or re-use paper on both sides? That I try to use sandwich boxes which can be washed and refillable bottles for lunch?

Sometimes I wonder--what difference does it make? Why bother trying to make a difference in this world? This can be said not only for recycling, but also for volunteering and or trying to live simple so that others may simple live.

In today's gospel story, the widow puts two small coins, the equivalent of one penny, into the offering plate. She could have asked: What difference does it make? My two little coins are not worth much. They won't matter. All the other people put in much more, big amounts of money. Not sure how many zeros some of these bills have on them, and my two little make the only cling noise amongst all the paper bills.

But she did so anyhow. Why did she bother? Nobody would have noticed if this lady would have just passed by the offering plate and only pretended to put something in. Maybe that would have stirred less attention than the noise of the two littlest coins. But she didn't care about what others said behind her back, she didn't care about how silly her little coins looked amongst all the huge bills, she didn't care about her reputation in the community. What she cared about was that she did contribute to the Glory of God--regardless of what others say about her or about the monetary value.

The lady was probably very poor, received no social benefits, but was dependant on charity on what others gave her. Maybe a coin here or there. We don't know anything about the poor widow, not even her name, except that she was poor and widowed. Her husband, who was the breadwinner is dead and she is alone. The Old Testament's law of inheritance prevented her from receiving anything from her husband estate--all the inheritance went to the oldest son, We don't know if she has family who supports her as best as they can. But we do know that she loves God and the temple--her house of worship. Despite her little financial resources, she participated in the life of her church and shared as much as she could.

Why did Jesus glorify her? Not because she was poor. Not because Jesus wants us to be poor. But Jesus does math differently than we do. We all know that there are different ways of looking at things. Jesus saw her and how she put her two little coins into the offering plate. Jesus did not praise her poverty. Jesus praised the lady. He commented and contrasted her behavior to those who put all the huge amounts in. Why? Why are two small coins more worth than all the bills?

Jesus looked beyond the monetary value, but saw to the heart of the issue. Jesus knew that this poor widow gave more than all the other peoples' offerings combined. The value of her gift was not determined by its numerical size but what it represented to her: all that she had, she gave to God.

She gave all her being to God. She knew she was dependent on God for her next breath, her next meal, her next morning. She knew the truth about who she was...totally dependent on God for everything.

She gave herself--represented in those two coins as a sacrifice to God. Sacrifice--we don't use that word very much--sounds old fashioned, something other people way back then did. But the meaning of sacrifice is timeless. The word derives from two words: "sacred" and "to make"--a sacrifice is to make something holy or to give something to God. What is old fashioned about that?

The two smallest coins given to God might have little monetary value--but they speak volumes. They are priceless--they are a true sacrifice. They are given to God--just like all of us can be a sacrifice to God as well. Jesus came to us to be the ultimate sacrifice--but we can do our part, we can live our part in service to God--regardless of how insignificant we think we might be.

I am thankful for this story. I am thankful for the example of the widow and her offering of two small coins. The widow is a true example of faithfulness in God. She lived her live in total dependency to God. She did what she did, regardless of how little it seemed to others, but did so from her heart. She gave to God--she made a sacrifice--in her own way.

November is the season of Thanksgiving. I am thankful for people who totally depend on God and do what they think is right--regardless of how little or big it is in the eyes of others. I am thankful for people who give to God--who make sacrifices in their lives. For those whose action show their love to God--whatever ways it may be.

I am thankful for people who do what they think is right--regardless of what others think. I am thankful for people who are not concerned about how big their impact is going to make--they do it anyhow.

Maybe one of the most famous persons in the 20th century who lived according to these standards is Mother Theresa: On her home for children in Calcutta are written the following words:

People are often unreasonable, irrational, and self-centered.  Forgive them anyway.

If you are kind, people may accuse you of selfish, ulterior motives.  Be kind anyway.

If you are successful, you will win some unfaithful friends and some genuine enemies.  Succeed anyway.

If you are honest and sincere people may deceive you.  Be honest and sincere anyway.

What you spend years creating, others could destroy overnight.  Create anyway.

If you find serenity and happiness, some may be jealous.  Be happy anyway.

The good you do today, will often be forgotten.  Do good anyway.

Give the best you have, and it will never be enough.  Give your best anyway.

In the final analysis, it is between you and God.  It was never between you and them anyway.

May you live in an attitude of gratitude, do what you think is right, be a sacrifice to God and live out your faith anyway.  Amen

Rev. Dr. Sigrid Rother
Westerville Community UCC
November 8, 2009
Twenty-third Sunday after Pentecost

JUST FOLKS LIKE US Ruth 1:11-18, Hebrews 13:1-2

Sunday, November 1, 2009 -- All Saints Day

   This is a busy Sunday morning, so I am going to get right to the point of why I chose the title I did for today's sermon.  In thinking about "All Saints Day" today, I remembered an old hymn.  The title of the hymn is "I Sing a Song of the Saints of God."  I always wanted to like that hymn--but was never quite sure about it.  The idea in it is that the saints of God were ordinary people--just folks like us.  This seemed all right to a point--but I always found that overall I was far more comfortable thinking that saints were "other people" living in "other places" and "other times."  This song, however, said that they were ordinary people--"just folks like us."

   The Old Testament lesson for today comes from the Book of Ruth, and this passage contains some of the most meaningful words ever spoken--words so beautiful that they are often included in wedding ceremonies, even though they were not said by one spouse to another, but by a daughter-in-law to her mother-in-law.  The Biblical story of Ruth is a story of very ordinary people--folks just like us.

   A time of trial and then great sorrow had come upon the family of a woman named Naomi.  Famine had struck her home area of Bethlehem, so she and her husband and their two sons moved far from Bethlehem, to the nation of Moab, where eventually their sons grew up and both married women from that nation, women named Orpah and Ruth.

   Great sorrow followed, as Naomi's husband and then both her sons died, leaving Naomi and her daughters-in-law as widows--and life was extremely difficult for widows at that time.  Now word comes to her that the famine in Bethlehem has ended and Naomi determines that she will try to go back to her home area to live.  Daughter-in-law Orpah tells Naomi how much she will miss her, and then exits.  Ruth, however, realizes that Naomi can't possibly make that long trip alone, and so she makes an absolute commitment to stay with her.  As I noted a moment ago, the words Ruth says here to Naomi are among the most beautiful in the Bible.  "Do not press me to leave you or to return from following you, for where you go I will go and where you lodge I will lodge.  Your people shall be my people and your God my God.  Where you die I will die and there I will be buried.  God do so to me and more if even death should part me from you."

   As I think about this story of ordinary people in the Bible, I find myself thinking about another of the best stories about ordinary people ever written, the play, "Our Town," by Thornton Wilder.  During one scene in the play the two lead characters, named Emily and George, realize that one day they will get married, and in this scene part of their conversation is about who is meant to be more noble and good--men or women.

   Emily: I always expect a man to be perfect, and I think he should be.

   George: Oh, I don't think it's possible to be perfect, Emily.

   Emily: Well, my father is and as far as I can see, your father is.  There's no reason on earth why you shouldn't be, too.

   George: Well, Emily, I feel it's the other way round--that men aren't naturally good, but women are.  Like you and your mother and my mother."

   George and Emily both want to believe that the other gender is more naturally good.  Each wants to believe that the other one should be the perfect one--and be held to higher standards--which is perhaps not all that different from that fact that I would rather think of others in far away times or places as the only ones that God calls to be saints.

   Ruth does not intend or expect to be a saint, and she certainly has no idea that her story will be remembered and retold as part of the Bible.  Ruth simply knows that she must do the right thing.  Ruth feels a responsibility to care for and support her mother-in-law because she knows that there is no one else to do this.  And so she travels to what will be for her a foreign place--to Naomi's homeland.  As she lives there she will meet and marry a man of faith, named Boaz, and--the book of Ruth will tell us at the end--as the generations continue the great-grandson of Ruth and Boaz will be David, who will be the greatest king in Israel's history.  David will be born right there in Bethlehem, which will later be called "The City of David," and that will also be the place in which Jesus will be born, because, as we will read in just a few weeks as we approach Christmas, "His father, Joseph, was of the house and lineage of David."

   All of this would come about only because of the faithfulness and commitment of a woman who had been a foreigner and converted to the faith of the Hebrews.  Ruth did not know that all of this would happen, of course.  She simply lived her life faithfully and kept her commitments.

   The New Testament lesson today contains another simple and yet quite profound lesson.  It tells us always to live our love and our commitments, and always to be hospitable to others.  "Some people," this writer says, "ordinary people," he could have added, "who have shown such hospitality have even entertained angels without knowing it."

   In the final scene of the play, "Our Town," after Emily has died she has the chance to go back and relive one typical day in her life.  As she does she suddenly realizes all the beauty--she sees and realizes all the love and wonder and joy that had been there every single day of her life, but which she had often missed.  Overwhelmed by this realization, she asks the "Stage Director" of the play this question: "Do any human beings ever realize life while they live it--every, every minute?"  In response the Stage Director answers: "No...well, the saints and poets, maybe they do some."

   The lesson of each of our Scripture lessons this "All Saints Day" is the same.  It is to live our love and our faith--to keep our commitments as we care for others.  The hymn I referred to at the beginning of this sermon, "I Sing a Song of the Saints of God," says much the same--that the saints of God are ordinary people who become extraordinary by living their faith and keeping their commitments.

   My first thought is that saints have to be other people in other places or times.  But then I hear the insight offered in the play, "Our Town."  Saints are people who notice and appreciate--every day--all the wonders that life holds.

   Recently I have been living far too much in an atmosphere of gloom, and perhaps you have been, too.  We have been in a long-term period of worry about economic conditions.  The realities--and the fears--about the H1N1 virus have been very much before us.  I have been making many long drives to visit my mother and continue to be very concerned about her health--as I know many of you have great concerns about loved ones in your lives.  The concerns and challenges we face are very real.  But the blessings that come to us from God are far greater still.

   On this All Saints Day--which is also the beginning of November and the Season of Thanksgiving--I pray that we will have greater awareness of our blessings and celebrate them daily in acts of thankfulness.  May we move out of the gloom and into a new season by living faithfully and keeping our promises.  And as we do we may very well come to realize that the saints of God truly are just folks like us--as God uses our ordinary day-to-day actions to bring about extraordinary results.  It may be that these results will have influences for generations to come.  It may even be that along the way we will entertain angels without even knowing it.

Rev. Harold Steindam
Westerville Community UCC
November 1, 2009
All Saints Day

MERCY, ME! Mark 10:46-52

Sunday, October 25, 2009 -- Consecration Sunday 

   Among other observances, today is "Reformation Sunday," observing the date in 1517 that Martin Luther posted "The Ninety-Five Theses" or questions on the door of the Catholic Church in Wittenberg, Germany.  That event led to the Protestant Reformation and the separation of many churches from the Catholic Church.  For generations many Protestant Churches used Reformation Sunday as a day to point out their differences with the Catholic Church, and anti-Catholic sermons were the norm in many churches on that day.

   Today, however, I am glad to begin my sermon in the opposite way, by quoting a Catholic theologian.  Roman Catholic theologian John Shea, commenting on our Gospel lesson this morning, has said this: "It is the call of Jesus that lifts us off the ground."  Again, theologian John Shea has stated, "It is the call of Jesus that lifts us off the ground."

   Many of us are familiar with the story in Mark's Gospel this morning.  Jesus and His disciples are nearing Jerusalem, where Jesus' purposes will be fulfilled, and the little community of Jericho is the last town on the journey.  They enter Jericho and a large crowd comes out as Jesus and His disciples travel through.  This is understandable because Jesus has come to be very well known for His teachings and the miracles He has performed.  As Jesus is leaving Jericho, we read, something happens that causes Him to stop.  We read that Bartimaeus, "the son of Timaeus," a blind beggar, is there.  The prefix "Bar" means "son of."  So, actually, "Bartimaeus, the son of Timaeus," is a redundancy.  This man was so low in their social order that he did not even have a name of his own.  He was simply "Bartimaeus," a name that was more of a reference, and as a blind man all he could do to earn a living was sit by the side of the road and beg, hoping that someone would pity him enough to throw a few coins into the folds of his cloak.

   Bartimaeus has far greater hopes for this day, however.  He has heard of Jesus, too, and of how He has helped people--even the poorest and lowest of people, and so as he hears that Jesus is getting nearer he begins to shout at the top of his lungs, "Jesus, son of David, I am the son of Timaeus; please, have mercy on me."  The crowd of course tells this lowly beggar to stay in his place and be quiet.  But instead he shouts all the more loudly, "Son of David, have mercy on me, the lowly son of Timaeus."

   Most of us who know this story at all think of it as a healing story--one of the many such miracles performed by Jesus.  But far more than a healing story, this is a call story.  As Theologian John Shea says in summarizing it, "The call of Jesus lifts us off the ground."  And you may have noticed that the verb "call" occurs three times in this story.

   We read, "Jesus stood still and said, ‘Call him here.'"  Then the crowd, with Jesus' acknowledgment, changes completely what they are saying to Bartimaeus.  Instead of telling him to be quiet, we now read that they called to Bartimaeus, "Take heart; get up; He is calling you."

   This is not just a healing or miracle story, wonderful as that would be.  It is a call to discipleship story, with all the similarities of the call Jesus made to the fishermen to begin His ministry.  When Jesus called Simon and Andrew, and James and John, He asked them to leave their former way of making a living and to work instead as a disciple.  And so they left their nets and followed him.  When Jesus calls Bartimaeus, what does Bartimaeus do?  We read that, "throwing off his cloak, he sprang up and came to Jesus."

   Bartimaeus' cloak was to him what the nets were to the fishermen.  In their nets the fishermen caught their fish, and in his cloak a blind beggar like Bartimaeus might catch whatever coins were thrown to him.  "Throwing off his cloak"--with whatever coins he had collected that day--Bartimaeus was ready to leave this way of living and follow a new way.

   Jesus asks Bartimaeus a question.  "What do you want me to do for you?"  This is not just "any" question, but the exact same question Jesus asked James and John in the story right before this one.  James and John have now lost their vision.  They are blinded by thoughts of glory and so they ask to sit in high places with Jesus.  Bartimaeus, however, who has been blind, asks to see again.  And Bartimaeus is healed.   "Your faith has made you well," Jesus tells him.

   And what does Bartimaeus do--and immediately?  We read that "Immediately he regained his sight and followed Jesus on the way."

   In the early years of Christianity, people who believed in Jesus as their Savior were not yet called Christians.  Instead, they were called "Followers of the Way."  So when this passage ends by saying that Bartimaeus followed Jesus on the way it is saying that he answered Jesus' call.  Bartimaeus became a disciple.

   As I read the words that Bartimaeus called out again and again to Jesus--the words "have mercy on me"--I found myself thinking of the Christian Rock group that calls itself "Mercy Me."  And as I tried to imagine what it must have been like when Bartimaeus realized that Jesus was calling him, I found myself thinking of the number one hit song that "Mercy Me" had, titled, "I Can Only Imagine."

   The lead singer of "Mercy Me" is a man named Bart Millard, and it was ten years ago, in 1999, that Bart found himself thinking very deeply about his father, who had died of cancer when Bart was only 18 years old.  Sad as Bart was about that loss, he found himself trying to imagine what his father was now experiencing as he stood before Jesus.

   Bart had been raised in the Christian faith and especially with the power of the great hymns of the faith, and he had once made a promise to his grandmother that one day he would use his talent to write a hymn like the ones she used to sing to him.  And so, both in keeping his promise to his grandmother and in imagining what his father must be experiencing in the presence of Jesus, he sat down to write would he could in response.

   In only about ten minutes, he now says, the words and music of the song, "I Can Only Imagine," came to him.  He did not plan to have it released as a single or expect it to be a hit song, but immediately it resonated with people through the powerful images it presented.  It was Number One on the Christian music stations, and then in 2001 crossed over to the secular stations as well and became known throughout the country.

   Some of the words of this song are: "I can only imagine...what it will be like...when I walk by your side.  I can only imagine...what my eyes will see...when your face...is before me."  And then the chorus proclaims, "Will I stand in your presence or to my knees will I fall?  Will I sing hallelujah, or will I be able to speak at all?  I can only imagine."

   I can only imagine what I would do, but here is what Bartimaeus did when Jesus called to him and then let him see again: "Immediately, he followed Jesus on the way."

   After this, the very next story in the Gospel of Mark will be the story of how Jesus will enter Jerusalem on Palm Sunday.  And I wonder, did Bartimaeus lead that Palm Sunday parade into Jerusalem?  I can only imagine.

   What is the great lesson of this story?  It is not to be too proud to call out to Jesus--even to call out for mercy from Jesus.  Because we can only imagine what Jesus may then call to us to do, only imagine what new way of life we may then be led to discover.

   Jesus calls each of us not to be blinded by the aspirations of this world, but to see clearly what is most important now and for eternity.  We are called to leave behind our old ways and instead live as disciples of Jesus--to know that all we do and all we have is earned and then used--received and then given--in a new and glorious way.

   "Mercy--me!--He is calling me!" Bartimaeus realized.  And just as surely Jesus is calling you and calling me.  Mercy, me!--I can only imagine.  Will I stand in Christ's presence or to my knees will I fall?  Will I sing hallelujah, or be able to speak at all?  I can only imagine.  But I do know that what John Shea said is absolutely true, that it is the call of Jesus that lifts us off the ground.  And so I can not only imagine, but know, that--lifted off the ground--all I am and all I do will be as a follower on the way.

Rev. Harold Steindam
Westerville Community UCC
October 25, 2009
Consecration Sunday

AND THE WISDOM TO KNOW THE DIFFERENCE Job 38:1-7, Mark 10:35-45

Sunday, October 18, 2009 -- Amen Sunday  

   Over two months ago Jenny and I began to plan and prepare for the vacation we took last week.  We thought about and planned it in terms of "getting away from things" and having a totally relaxed time.

   As it turned out, while we were planning it we had no idea how quickly my mother's health status would change, and of how we would need to travel to be with her the days before and after our trip, and that we would need to call and reevaluate each day of the vacation whether we should continue it or try quickly to return home.  In retrospect I realize how much I was not aware of as we planned this.  There was far more we would need to come to understand than just having a great time.

   As much as we were not aware at that time we were making those plans, however, in today's Gospel story James and John are even less aware of what they will need to come to understand.

   Jesus is reaching the critical time in His ministry, but His disciples do not seem to be aware at all.  "We want you to do something for us; promise you will!"  This is how James and John phrase a request to Jesus, hoping they can get Him to agree to grant a favor even before they ask it.  "And what would that be?" Jesus asks in return, not agreeing to anything before He knows the details.

    "We want you to promise that when you come into all the glory that's ahead for you, that you'll let us sit--one on your right and one on your left."  James and John have certainly not missed all the great things that have been happening around Jesus. He's healed people and performed other miracles and taught with an awesome power and had huge crowds turning out.  "So," James and John are thinking, "since we've been with you since the ground floor of your operation, we want to be sure to get in on the even greater things that are ahead.  Make us your executive vice presidents, with all the perks that go with those places--because we know we're perfect for the job!"

   Later we read that the other ten disciples find out about this and are upset by it.  Why?--because James and John thought of it first and beat them on the fast track to those cushy jobs!

   So it is that Jesus realizes it's time to sit down and have a very direct talk with them.  Yes, they have noticed the healings and the miracles.  They've experienced the power of His words and the enormous crowds.  But these disciples have somehow remained totally unaware of the changes that have been taking place, and of the insinuations of those in power toward Jesus.  They have even managed to miss the fact that Jesus has told them three times now--with the third time being right before this request James and John are making--about how He will have to suffer and be put to death accomplish His purposes.

   "You know that in this world people think that power is determined by status--by who ‘lords it over whom'"--Jesus says to them, "but it shall not be so among you."

   The title that came to mind for this morning's sermon is, "And the Wisdom to Know the Difference."  This is the closing line in what is called "The Serenity Prayer."  The entire wording of this prayer--which I'm sure many of you know--is, "God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and wisdom to know the difference."

   Tonight as we share information with people interested in learning more about our church at an orientation gathering, I will tell a bit about our United Church of Christ denominational heritage, and one of the things I will note is that the "Serenity Prayer" was written by a minister who was part of our denomination's heritage.  Rev. Reinhold Niebuhr was his name, and Rev. Niebuhr wrote and prayed this well-known prayer during the darkest days of the Great Depression, in the 1930's.

   I say "well-known prayer"--and today it is.  For many years, however, this prayer was not well-known at all--almost forgotten, and probably would have been, as most prayers are after a time.  However, leaders in the Alcoholics Anonymous movement discovered it, and realized how perfectly it offered guidance to the people in their programs.  And so they used it to the point that it eventually became know to almost everyone.  And this is good, because there are many things taught in the AA program that are so basic and important that they should be taught to everyone.

   So also the teachings of Jesus to His disciples this morning are so basic and important that they need to be known by everyone.  As a matter of fact, the entire Gospel of Mark was written with the intention of having all of us learn along with the disciples.  We are all called to become disciples, and so these lessons are for all of us.  And here is what Jesus teaches them--and us.  "In the rest of the world those who have power lord it over others," Jesus tells them.  "But for us whoever wishes to be great must serve others."

   Through the years I have read many of the sermons and books by Rev. Reinhold Niebuhr, who came to be one of the leading seminary professors and theologians of the first half of the Twentieth Century.  He began his career as pastor of a local congregation in the city of Detroit, and one of the things that impressed me more about him than anything else was learning that while he served as pastor of that church, Rev. Niebuhr also served as Scoutmaster for the Boy Scout Troup that the church sponsored.

   We are now in the one hundredth year of Scouting in America, and anyone who knows anything about Scouting knows not only how important the role of Scoutmaster is, but also knows that it is both one of the most rewarding and most humbling jobs there can be.  I have often found myself wondering if service in the role of Scoutmaster was part of what brought Rev. Niebuhr the great insights he had and to make the theological discoveries he did.  Perhaps that work as a Scoutmaster was even part of what led to his writing of the brief and powerful "Serenity Prayer."

   Our Old Testament lesson today is an extraordinary account from the book of Job.  After Job has had terrible things happen in his life--which he believes are totally undeserved--he calls out again and again to God to answer his questions about how all of this can be.  And God does speak to him--out of a whirlwind.  What God asks of him in response to Job's questions is, "Who are you to speak to me like this?  Where were you when I created the heavens and the earth?"  God puts Job into his proper place in comparison to God, humbling him.  And yet at the same time, in the very act of answering Job, God has lifted him up by taking him and his struggles seriously.

   In this account--as in Jesus' teaching to the disciples--there are two very important parts.  They contrast--and yet they complement, and it is vitally important to have both of these halves.  We need both the deepest of humility--and the greatest of self-esteem.  And we can have both because of our relationship with God.

   "Most people," Jesus points out to James and John, "try to find their status in comparison to other people.  Most people think they are great if they have more or are better in some way than others, and feel terrible about themselves if they think they have less status or wealth.  No!" Jesus then declares.  "It shall not be so among you"--and in teaching this to the disciples Jesus is teaching it to all of us.

   Find your inner worth--maintain that vital balance--find your wisdom--not in your status compared to people, but in your relationship with God.  That relationship will keep you forever anchored, forever filled with wisdom.  You will have the serenity to accept what you cannot change--to know and accept with humility the limitations of who you are.  And you will have the courage to act on all that you can do and change because of who you are as a child of God--the self esteem and confidence you need to bring about great things.  And you will have the wisdom to know the difference and to know both as you stay grounded in God.

   Not in comparison with others--but in relationship with God--comes our true worth.  It is out of the wealth and wisdom of this awareness--not how we think others see us but how we know God sees us--that we are able to give more than we could otherwise have imagined.

   Lately I have been thinking--perhaps as much or more than any other time in my life--of how very much my mother gave to me.  And one of the most important things of all she gave me was this understanding of the lesson Jesus tries to teach His disciples in today's Scripture.

   My mother tried to teach me both deep humility and great self esteem and confidence.  From her own very humble beginnings she found a deep confidence through her faith in God.  And so she taught me both to be very humble about who I was--and yet also to know that I did not need to feel inferior to anyone, and that I could have total confidence to do whatever I felt called to do.

   What a gift this is--humility and self-esteem--because our understanding of who we are comes from our relationship with God and not how we may think we stack up next to others--because of our awareness that it is in serving that true greatness is found.

   What a life-long, life-changing gift my mother gave to me and to many others.  I say this because my mother had something else in common with the writer of the "Serenity Prayer."  She was a Cub Scout Den Mother for twenty years.

Rev. Harold Steindam
Westerville Community Church
October 18, 2009
Amen Sunday

SOMETHING MISSING ON THE LIST? Mark 10:17-31

Sunday, October 11, 2009 -- CROP Walk Sunday

There are at least 2 different types of shoppers--those with a list and those without. And there are two kinds of people of those people who write a list. Those who write items they need in the order they come to mind, and those, who have the outline of the particular store memorized and write the list according to aisle. First, when you enter, is fresh produce--so the first item on the list would be fruit and veggies--and then be very specific about the product and the quantity. For some it might be enough to write down fresh fruit--others prefer to have detailed 3 green apples and 4 ripe yellow bananas.

So you wander the aisles, find the items you are looking for, put them in your basket or cart and after all items are checked, you make your way to the cashier. Just before the items are put on the conveyer belt or to be scanned, the list gets checked one more time--just to make sure. People either check mentally or they bring a pen or pencil with them to check of the items one by one. Lists are a wonderful invention.

Lists come in all shapes or forms: not only the shopping list, but there is the honey to do list, the birthday list, and the upcoming Christmas wish list. Some people even keep list of lists. Lists, sticky notes, reminders on paper or electronically are all important--and I wonder how life would have looked like without all these lists.

The person who is having a conversation with Jesus reminds me of people who love to check off items of the list. I can see how he is approaching Jesus and has his checklist and pen ready.

Who is this man? In Mark's gospel we just read: a man ran up--we don't know his name, nor his background. He was no Pharisee or any of the other religious authorities Jesus had discussions with. In Matthew's gospel he is called: someone - only in Luke's gospel we read that he was a ruler--and we associate the story of the rich young ruler, but we don't know anything else about him. He could be anybody we know. This Mr. Someone interrupts Jesus on his journey. He appears out of nowhere and kneels in front of him.

In Mark's gospel we read that he calls Jesus: Good teacher.  It's always great to start out a conversation with compliments Good teacher--that sounds flattery. This is the only time Jesus is called ‘good'. Jesus doesn't fall for nor does he need any compliments.

Then the man asked a simple question--and what follows is more than a simple answer.  Questions--people throughout history have been asking questions. It is through asking that we learn, it is through asking, that we find answers, not only in science or technology but also in relationship to God.

What must we do to inherit eternal life? What must I do--just tell me the rules and I make sure I will follow all of them. I write them all down and check them off my ‘to do' list. Just tell me: what must I do to get my ticket for the final judgment day? I'm ready--just tell me the requirements and I'm ready to do whatever you ask me.

What is Jesus' response? No checklist, no sticky notes or reminders are needed. All you need is to follow the commandments--no murder, no adultery no stealing, no lying, honor your elders.

Of course our fellow has obeyed all these laws. He is a good person, he is honest, obeys all laws--even all traffic laws and never received a speeding ticket. He even pays taxes on time, volunteers and goes to church every Sunday. He is a good, respectable person. He checked all the things from the list and he did them all. Check, check, check.

Jesus isn't done with our friend yet. He loved him and continued: You lack one thing.

We can hear him: What's missing? What did I not do? Tell me and I fix it--I'm a doer--just tell me.

Jesus says: Sell everything you own and give the money to the poor and you will have treasure in heaven, then come, follow me. What an answer. This answer is uncomfortable. Lots of us have difficulties with this reading. We feel at unease--and might even justify ourselves; I don't have as big of a house as my co-worker. And my neighbor just got a bigger car. Yes, I might not be as wealthy as Bill Gates, but in comparison to the world's population, I am far better off than the vast majority of the people.

Sell everything you own and give the money to the poor -does Jesus want us to give everything away? This is the only time when Jesus makes such a radical claim. Bible scholars disagree how literal we should take this statement. Maybe a closer look into Middle Eastern culture and language can help.  In order to make a point, sometimes exaggeration is used. In other parts of the gospel we hear Jesus saying: anyone who does not hate your mother and father and brother and sister cannot be my disciple." Or, "if you hand sins, cut if off. If your eye sins, cut it out. If your foot leads you astray, cut it off." These are all illustrations from the gospels where scholars assume Jesus used Aramaic overstatements to make a point.

Another reason not to take this statement literal is to see how Jesus talked to others with possessions. We assume that Jesus would have the same requirements and standards for the other wealthy people he meets?  Jesus did not ask Zaccheaus, who was the richest tax collector in town, to sell all he had and give it to the poor. Jesus did not ask Joseph of Arimathea, who the Bible says was rich, to sell all had had and give it to the poor. Jesus did not ask Nicodemus, the wealthy man from the Jewish Sanhedrin or Senate, to sell all they had and give it to the poor.

I don't think Jesus wants us all to live in poverty. What Jesus wants is more. What Jesus wants is us. A total commitment. Because if we would give everything away, just because this is required of us, then we do so, because we need to and not because we want to. Then it becomes one more thing to check it off the list.

As if Jesus didn't shock the people enough, he went on: "How hard will it be for those who have great wealth to enter the kingdom of God. It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God."

Why does Jesus talk about sewing needles and camels? Some scholars suggest this is a mistranslation. In the Greek of the New Testament the words for camel and thick rope cable are similar. Camel is "camelos" and rope cable is "camilos". Maybe the later copiers of the New Testament got the words mixed up. This is a plausible theory. But what why would Jesus speak about ropes?

Another theory is that Jesus doesn't mean an eye of a sewing needle, but he talked about a gate into Jerusalem. This narrow gate, was used after the main gate was closed at night to let people in or out of the city. It is just high enough for humans. This was called the "Needles Eye." For the camel to get through the camel master would have to remove all the possessions from the camel. Once this was accomplished the camel master must make the camel kneel and lead that camel through the gate/doorway as it crawled on its knees. Once the camel was inside, the master would have to bring that camels load through on his own. In other words, the master took care of the possessions. That was a long complicated process--but, the master, not the camel, did all the work.

This explanation makes the most sense to me. The camel on its own cannot pass the narrow gate. First the master has to unload the camel. The master would then carry the load removed from the camel through the gate, or doorway. Secondly, the camel had to kneel. Kneeling means humbling one's self. Then the master had to lead the camel through the gate or doorway. In other words, the camel would follow the master. In order to enter the kingdom one must discard all our loads unto our master, humble yourself, and follow the master.

Just unload your loads and any burdens. Kneel down, discard all the weight you carry, and follow the master. The master who says: Come to me, all that are weary and carry heaven burdens and I will give you rest. (Matthew 11:28)  Just trust your master and your master will lead you through the narrow gate. No lists necessary--just complete trust in the master who leads you.

Amen

Rev. Dr. Sigrid Rother
Westerville Community UCC
October 11, 2009
CROP Walk Sunday

INVITED Mark 10:13-16

Sunday, October 4, 2009 -- World Communion Sunday

   It always surprised me--but it was true.  I would learn more from writing term papers on specific assignments from professors than I would in the times they told us we could write on any topic we chose.  "Oh, great," I would think to myself when the professor said to write a paper on a topic of our choosing.  But then I would simply begin to think or write the things I had already thought or written before.  When the professor assigned an unexpected topic or approach, however, I would have to research and think also in unexpected ways, and that would challenge me and lead to new understandings.

   In many ways the Scripture lesson that is set for each Sunday in the Lectionary can become an assignment for a minister's sermon that week.  "This isn't the Scripture I would have picked for this week," I often find myself thinking.  But then, in digging into the Lectionary text and researching it further, in unexpected ways I may learn or grow even more because of that assignment.

   The passage for this morning is not the one I would have chosen for today.  It's one of my favorites--Jesus and the children.  But today is World Communion Sunday.  My choice for this day would have been one of the passages about how Jesus instituted the Sacrament of Communion in the Upper Room, or perhaps one of Paul's writings about how Communion was being observed a generation later.

   Accepting this assignment of preaching on this passage about Jesus and children for this day--which is World Communion Sunday--leads me to think further about this Sacrament through the lens of the message this particular passage teaches.

   The first thing I must say to you, or remember with you, is that when I came to serve Westerville Community I had grown up in one church and then served three others as their minister, and in each of those four churches children had to wait until after confirmation to receive Communion.  They were not allowed to partake.  And, I thought, this was right.  Not only was it the only way I had known, but I agreed with the point of view behind this interpretation, which was that it was important to understand the meaning before partaking, and so children should not be allowed.

   From the time Westerville Community had begun to worship, however, the belief here was that this should be a family decision, and not a church decision, and so each family should decide at what age their children would begin.  Just as we read in this morning's lesson that many parents in that community were bringing their children to Jesus, so also in this church many parents were bringing their children to receive communion.

   We read, "People were bringing little children to Jesus...and the disciples spoke sternly" to those parents.  So also I had been in churches in which we had sometimes had to speak sternly to parents who broke our rules and let their children take communion.  Again, I thought this was right--as the disciples did--even though I had now come to serve a church with a different viewpoint.

   We read further that Jesus is indignant with the disciples.  He says, "Let the little children come to me; do not stop them; for it is to such as these that the kingdom of God belongs.  Truly, I tell you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God as a little child will never enter it."  We use these very words with our other Sacrament--the Sacrament of Baptism, when we baptize a child.  Could it be, I had to ask myself, that these same words of Jesus apply also to the Sacrament of Communion?

   A commentary on this passage that I studied this week says very clearly, "Jesus taught that children are to be received, honored, and imitated as objects of the love of God."  Just as there was for the disciples, so also there was for me much more to understand about the magnitude of God's love.

   Like many families in this congregation, Jenny and I did decide to wait for at least some time until Sara would begin to receive Communion, so that we could all anticipate that day and she would know how special it was.  And then the day arrived, and Sara, a "little child," just like those today's Scripture describes, took communion for her first time on World Communion Sunday.  I sat beside her and glanced over at her as she held the bread, and then the cup of juice, and took each of them with us.

   And as I looked at her face there could be no doubt at all in me that this was right, because the look of awe and amazement on her face absolutely overwhelmed me.

   Did Sara understand all of the meaning of Communion at that time?  Of course not--but then, I don't understand all of the meaning of Communion either, and almost certainly never will.  Because what is most important about Communion is that it is a mystery.  Communion is a tangible taste of the intangible love of God.  Communion is a sacred symbol of how unconditionally and absolutely God loves us.  I cannot explain this--I can only allow myself to experience it.  That is what the children that Jesus "took into His arms and blessed" at the conclusion of today's passage did.  They experienced God's love.  That is what Sara did so many years ago and what each child who receives Communion today may do.  And this is what each of us may do, because first--and finally--each of us is a child, a child of God.

   On this World Communion Sunday--through the lens of a Scripture I would not otherwise have chosen for this day--this is the unexpected lesson I have realized as a result.  It is that in Communion each of us is one of those children being brought to Jesus.  We are welcomed into His loving arms, where we are blessed as we experience the unconditional love of God.

   As we join with God's children throughout the world in the celebration of this Sacrament, may we be filled with awe and amazement at the magnitude of God's love.

Rev. Harold Steindam
Westerville Community UCC
October 4, 2009
World Communion Sunday

HALF FULL—AND MORE Mark 9:38-41

Sunday, September 27, 2009 -- American Indian Ministry Sunday

   I don't remember when I first heard this question-but I was a young adult at the time, so it was at least a couple years ago.  I also don't know if it was a question that had been around for a long time by then or a new thought at that time.  I do remember, however, that it made an immediate impression on me.  The question was, "When you see a twelve ounce glass with six ounces of liquid in it, do you see it as half full or half empty?"

   This question or image has come to be used as an indicator of whether someone is basically optimistic or pessimistic.  "Are you a glass half empty or half full kind of person?" people often ask.

   Whether or not people realize it when they say this, they are actually using a Biblical image.  In Bible times a cup was used to symbolize a person's life.  "How full do I think my cup is?"  After all, every life has both troubles and blessings.  So the question was-even back in Bible times and still today-"Do I focus on the blessings or on the troubles?  Do I see my glass as half empty or half full?"

   Most of us want to be "half full" people.  We say we want to be positive and optimistic even when our actions don't always show it.  "Oh, I'm a glass half full kind of person," I hear people declaring most of the time.

   And yet, even that-as good as it is-does not come close to the understanding the Bible offers on the matter.  The Twenty-Third Psalm-"The Shepherd Psalm of David"-says boldly and beautifully, "My cup runneth over," or, "My cup overflows."

   In other words, this Psalmist is proclaiming, "Half full doesn't even begin to describe it.  God has filled my cup-my life-to overflowing."

   Jesus was very familiar with David's Shepherd Psalm and its images.  Whether He was thinking specifically about it at the time of today's Gospel story, I do not know, but I am very sure that it was part of His overall understanding and therefore influenced what He said to His disciples at this time.

   Apparently, someone has been doing some healing or performing some kind of miraculous acts to help people, and using Jesus' name to do so.  Jesus' disciples have seen this and they run to tell Jesus that they have taken actions to get this person to stop.  After all, this person, whoever he is, isn't franchised.  So they are expecting to hear how glad Jesus is about their restraining order.

   Instead, Jesus surprises them by saying, "Don't stop this person.  He is on our side-or soon will be.  Whoever is not against us is for us."  Jesus offers not just optimism but hope that can only come from God-who not only fills our cup of life half full, but to overflowing.

   Jesus is making a clear statement to His disciples about not envying others, but celebrating all of God's blessings-of being grateful for the gifts God bestows on others as a way of also seeing all the blessings God is pouring into each of our cups.

   How often we hear someone say, "I'm so happy, because I'm leaving tomorrow for a two week vacation!"  And another person immediately responds, "Well, it must be nice.  Do you know how long it's been since I've had even a one-week vacation?"  This person is taking whatever there is in his cup right now and just dumping it out-dumping it all over this person who is sharing his joy.

   "It's all about me," we so often think, or, as the disciples seem to be thinking, "It's all about us and our exclusive rights to healing in this territory!"  "Get a life!" Jesus tells His disciples in response-a life that isn't half empty and less, but half full and more, a life aware of the overflowing blessings of God's love.

   And then Jesus concludes by using what is the simplest example of a blessing there can be-and an example that again makes me think He has the Twenty-Third Psalm in the back of His mind as He says it: "Whoever gives you even a cup of water to drink because you are in my family, will not lose that reward."

   As you know, my mother has spent the last month in either a hospital or nursing home.  During my visits to her there have been times-both in her hospital room and in the care center where she has been staying-when her meal tray has been brought to her, and she simply has been too weak or in other ways unable even to feed herself.  And so, for the first time in my life, I have asked if I could help with this, and she has said "yes."  As caringly and carefully as I could I have held each spoonful of food to her mouth and she has eaten what she could, from my hands, of those meals.

   As profound as it has been for me to give her this food, however, even more so has been the water.  As important as the nutrition of food is in our bodies may be, water is-fluids are-even more important.  And so I have held her cup, half full of water, so that the straw is placed between her lips, and she slowly drinks from it.

   I have found myself thinking of how many meals-and how many drinks of water and other liquids from a cup-my mother gave to me when I could not help myself.  Most of those times I do not even remember, of course-and yet they are not forgotten.  And now she does not lose her reward.  The blessings my mother gave out-to me and to many others-return to her not only in this time of need, but always have-and will forever.

   The disciples think they are doing what Jesus wants by making it all about them-and trying to stop the good in those outside their group.  "Do not stop them," Jesus says.  "Whoever is not against us is for us.  Whoever gives you even a cup of water to drink because you are in my family will not lose their reward."  What a different and better way of life Jesus shows.  A "glass half full" can't even begin to describe it.  It is a "cup overflowing"-an awareness and celebration of all the blessings God gives in every life.

   May we live not with envy and short-sightedness, but awareness of the abounding love of God in our lives and in the lives of others.  May we celebrate the blessings that have come and will come-not only in this life, but eternally.

Rev. Harold Steindam
Westerville Community UCC
September 27, 2009
American Indian Ministry Sunday

UPSIDE DOWN Mark 9:30-36

September 20, 2009 -- Bring a Friend Sunday

It happened at a recent gathering of ministers. Before the business meeting started, was time to meet and greet. Some of us haven't seen each other for a long time, it was time to catch up with each other. I got my cup of coffee and joined a small circle of colleagues. How are you? It has been a long time--where does time go? How are things at your church?

It was just a matter of time when the following questions were asked. How many people do you have in worship? How many on the roster? And how is your attendance in Sunday School?

There is was--the comparison and the feeling: the bigger the better. It was all about numbers. It seemed like the effectiveness of a pastor was measured with facts and figures. The better your ministry, the bigger your numbers. I felt sorry for my colleagues who minister smaller churches or those in rural areas. I was also thankful how blessed we are to have such a wonderful active church.

Sometimes the effectiveness cannot be counted in statistics. Sometimes the effectiveness goes beyond a certain number. How do you measure which child you love more? How do you measure the affection for your spouse? How do measure your faith?

Jesus and his disciples were traveling through Galilee. It was more than just a road trip.
Jesus tried to tell them that he has to die soon. But the disciples didn't want to hear about it. They were too concerned about their own agendas.

The closest friends spent a lot of time together--and lots of time traveling. After the "are we there yet," the disciples might have been wondering what following Jesus is all about.

They were trying to figure out who is the best disciple. Is it the one who walks the longest distance in sandals without getting blisters? Is it the one who can memorize most of Jesus' saying? Or the one who sits next to him at every dinner?

Who of the twelve is better? Who is the best? After all, Jesus seemed to have some favorites: Peter, James and John. What about the other nine? I can hear them talking: I have been with Jesus longer. But I memorized more. But I left my family the quickest--without even saying good bye to my loved ones. But he chose me to pass out the baskets when he multiplied the food and fed the 5000. But I talked to him only yesterday and the day before. The arguing continued all day long.

At the end of the day, Jesus wanted to know what the commotion was all about. Silence--nobody dared to say anything. Finally one of them took all the courage and said: Who is the greatest?

Who is the greatest? How would you decide who is most important?

Those who volunteer the most? Because they spent endless hours dedicated to others?

Those who pray the longest? Because they have the most intimate contact to God?

Those who spent most hours in the church? Because they are dedicate to serve God?

Those who farm? Because they produce food we need to eat?

Those who teach? Because they spend most of the day with our precious children? They spark the interest in learning and instruct our future leaders?

Those who heal? Because doctors and medical staff heal people from pain and diseases?

Those who pick up after us? Because without janitors and people picking up our garbage, we would live in a terrible stinky mess?

Who is the greatest? This is an endless argument once you get into it. No wonder the disciples stayed silent after Jesus asked them what they are arguing about.

Why did the disciples ask that question? 2000 years later, why do we ask that question--again and again? Why do we want to know who is Number One and strive to be the person who gets the gold medal? Why do worry about who earns more, lives in a bigger house or drives a more expensive car?

There must be a different way of looking at life, more helpful way which eliminates headache, ulcers and maybe even heart attacks. Jesus' response was different. He didn't answer with naming the disciple who is the greatest. Instead of trying to keep up with the Joneses, Jesus suggests a different way of life. Being the greatest is not about first, or biggest or fastest. Being the greatest is not about status, or a bigger paycheck. Yes, they are all nice things to have--but maybe it would be healthier if we develop a change in attitude?

He called all of them together and said: "If anyone wants to be first, he must be the very last, and the servant of all." Then he took a child and put it amongst them, taking it in his arms and said: Whoever welcomes one of these little children in my name, welcomes me; and whoever welcomes me, does not welcome me, but the one who sent me.

How cute. But even more effective when you consider the role of children in 1st century Palestine. In Jesus' time, children were seen differently than today. They had no status, no rights. There were no Child Protective Services nor the United Nations declarations about how they should be treated, and what it is that they deserve out of life. Rather, childhood was something you had to live through till you finally became somebody. They didn't contribute to the household, but rather were more mouths to be fed. During famine children were also last to be fed...survival of the fittest.

Survival of the greatest. Survival of the best. Only after children finally reached maturity and could join the work force they finally had value. When Jesus tells the people to become like little children, he insults them, he insults their culture, he insults their values.

Jesus lifted up and elevated the status of a child, and by the same token, he degraded the role of the disciples. It must have been like a slap in the face of the disciples. So much about arguing who is the greatest.

Why did Jesus pick a child and uses a so-called nobody as a role model for the disciples? Why did he elevate someone who didn't count in 1^st century Palestine? Maybe he wants to point out, that what is important in life differs to what we think is important? Maybe life is more than just hard work and winning the competition? Maybe life goes beyond listing accomplishments and achieving the highest numbers?

The child in front of Jesus, maybe for the first time in his or her life, was given any recognition amongst adults. This child was lifted up--before others and before God.

What was it like for this child to be suddenly the center of attention? A bit uncomfortable? This child didn't do anything, no accomplishments--this child just was.

Maybe the disciples then and we now have to learn more to be like this child. Let us be lifted up--not because of anything we did, but just because we are. We cannot earn this, but we can just receive these gifts: acceptance before God, love, forgiveness, grace, and mercy--all those things money cannot buy.

I am reminded me of an e-mail I received the other day. It was one of those forwarded, mails. First I was going to delete it, but then I read the poem by Carol Wimmer:

When I say..."I am a Christian"
I'm not shouting "I am saved"
I'm whispering "I get lost!"
"That is why I chose this way."

When I say..."I am a Christian"
I don't speak of this with pride.
I'm confessing that I stumble
and need someone to be my guide.

When I say..."I am a Christian"
I'm not trying to be strong.
I'm professing that I'm weak
and pray for strength to carry on.

When I say..."I am a Christian"
I'm not bragging of success.
I'm admitting I have failed
and cannot ever pay the debt.

When I say..."I am a Christian"
I'm not claiming to be perfect,
my flaws are too visible
but God believes I'm worth it.

When I say..."I am a Christian"
I still feel the sting of pain
I have my share of heartaches
which is why I seek His name.

When I say..."I am a Christian"
I do not wish to judge.
I have no authority.
I only know I'm loved.

Maybe that is what it means to be the greatest? To put ourselves in perspective, to count our blessings and to know that we are loved?

May the children who received their Bibles today and we all live in this love, and share it with those around us. Amen

Rev. Dr. Sigrid Rother
Westerville Community UCC
September 20, 2009
Bring a Friend Sunday