Archive for July 2020

Why Are We Afraid to Make Disciples?

This is a sermon that I preached on Sunday, 7/26/20, at Berkeley Friends Church (via videoconference). The scripture readings for this sermon were: Matthew 28:16-20. You can listen to the audio, or keeping scrolling to read my manuscript. (The spoken sermon differs from the written text)

Listen to the Sermon Now

Have you ever been in a secret relationship? Have you ever had a boyfriend or a girlfriend who you couldn’t take home to mama? Has there ever been someone in your life that you kept secret from your friends, because you were scared of what people might say?

We’re humans. We have relationships like these. Happens every day. We claim that we love another person. We say they’re our friend, or our lover. We say that we care about them. But we don’t want to face what it would mean to us, socially, if our relationship were out in the open.

Why would anybody want to be in a relationship like that? If you’re so ashamed of this person, if you’re so worried about your reputation, why would you be hanging around with them in the first place? Either your love for them is a lie, or the fact that you’re hiding your relationship is a betrayal. Either way, it’s time to quit with the games and make an honest choice.

Have you ever kept your relationship with God a secret? Have you ever been in a conversation with someone in your family, or a friend, or a coworker, and you stopped yourself from talking about your faith? Maybe you just changed the subject. Or you “translated” the truth of your heart to sanitize it for a secular environment. Have you ever hidden your faith like that? Have you ever been ashamed of God?

I know I have. Living in wealthy, sophisticated, urban areas of the United States – for a decade in Washington, DC, and now in the Bay Area – I’ve definitely let that sleeping dog lie. If I was going to talk about the most important things in life – truth, justice, integrity – there have definitely been times when I code switched. I’ve left God out of it. I’ve made my point without revealing the true source of my convictions.

Sometimes it feels like I’m cheating on God. It reminds me of that song from the late Nineties, by Destiny’s Child: “Say My Name.” Some of you might remember it.

Say my name, say my name
If no one is around you, say, “Baby I love you”
If you ain’t runnin’ game
Say my name, say my name
You acting kind of shady, ain’t callin’ me baby
Why the sudden change?

Why the sudden change? Why do we hide our relationship with God? Why do we pretend to be so nice? Why do we act like we’re good people? Why do we pretend that our core motivation is some generic, American sense of love? Why don’t we confess that it’s the power and Spirit of Jesus that has set us free? Why don’t we acknowledge that it’s his love coursing through our lives, compelling us to action?

Why the sudden change? Why won’t we say his name? Who are we cheating on Jesus with?

It’s easy to say that we love God. It’s convenient to say that our mission as Christians is to practice the Great Commandment – “love God and love people” – which both the Book of Deuteronomy and Jesus himself command us to do. We are to love God with our heart, soul, mind, and strength, and to love our neighbors as ourselves.

But this is not just any love. This is the love of Jesus Christ. And we have to say his name. Because this world thinks it knows what love is. It thinks that love is being nice and appropriate. It thinks that love is giving to charity, and caring for your spouse and kids. It thinks love is what we see on TV. It thinks that love is a feeling. It thinks love is safe.

But the love that we know is dangerous. We worship the God who revealed true love in the broken body of Jesus on the cross. The love that we have experienced, the incarnate love that we worship, is love for enemies. Laying down our lives so that the whole world can be redeemed. This is the love that God promised to Abraham and Sarah, through which all the families of the world will be blessed.

How is the world to know about this startling, self-sacrificing love of God? How are we to receive this love when we are blinded and confused by the false, selfish love of this world? For thousands of years, the church has looked to the words of Jesus that we heard this morning. This passage that the church has traditionally called the Great Commission.

These were Jesus’ instructions to his original disciples. Here, Jesus lays out what God’s love looks like when put into practice. And what did he say? He said:

Go.

Go and make disciples of all nations.

Go and immerse them into the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.

Go and teach them to obey everything that I have commanded you.

Go, and remember: I am with you always. Even to the end of the age.

And let’s notice what he didn’t say. What didn’t Jesus include in his commission to the Twelve? Jesus didn’t say “go and make propaganda.” He didn’t say, “go and convince people you’re right.” He said, “go and make disciples.” Disciples to whom? To Jesus. Not to us. To Jesus.

He said to teach them. Teach what? To know and obey Jesus. Who? Not Peter, not Paul, not me, not you. Jesus.

The Great Commission is not about replicating our opinions. This is not about building a religious empire or gaining superiority over other people. What Jesus has called us to do is to bring other people to learn from him. To come to him. To be transformed by him. To become a brother and sister to us in Jesus. Because he loves us, and we must learn to love the whole world like Jesus does.

Jesus says that we are to baptize others – to immerse them. Into what? Into our denomination? Our ideology? Our ego? No. We are to immerse our lives and the lives of those we meet into the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. That we may be one, just as Jesus and the Father are one.

We are to teach others to follow Jesus. Not us, but the living and resurrected Jesus. The foundation and cornerstone of our faith is that he is here, alive, ready to teach his people himself. And just as Jesus has invited us, we are to invite others. He calls us to join him in that teaching ministry.

What Jesus is saying here is that, if we want to practice the Great Commandment – to love God and love people – we must practice the Great Commission. We must share the victory announcement of the Kingdom of God. We must share the joy and peace and love we have found in Jesus. 

We have to say his name.

Why is this so hard? Because it is, right? It’s hard to talk to people about Jesus. It feels so personal, so intimate. It’s hard to talk about how much he means to us. Sometimes it’s even hard to talk about our relationship with Jesus with people here in this church. It’s even more challenging to share these things with people in our workplace, or in our family, or folks we are just getting to know.

Why does it feel like a burden to share the cornerstone of our lives, the reason for our hope and faith? Maybe we’re afraid others will judge us. I’ve felt that, have you? 

Sometimes, I worry that people will think less of me. Maybe if I talk about Jesus with a coworker, it would be inappropriate. They might think I’m a religious fanatic – or maybe just annoying. I know I don’t want to risk that kind of shame. I don’t want to feel vulnerable like that. I bet you don’t either.

I don’t know about you, but I’m tempted to justify my fear by telling myself that I really am obeying Jesus in my own way. I tell myself, “Well, maybe I’m not talking explicitly about the details of my faith with others – sure, I’m not telling them about my relationship with Jesus – but I’m showing my faith through the way that I live. I’m loving God, and loving people. And that’s what really matters, right? I’ll go ahead and follow the Great Commandment, and I’ll let others do the whole Great Commission thing.”

I get this. Because, at first glance, the Great Commandment seems selfless. It’s unquestionably selfless and pure to love God and love people, right? Not even an anti-religious person could really argue with that one! But the Great Commission, that’s a little different. It seems kind of ideological. And so many religious groups have used it as a proof text for why they need to be standing on street corners and BART stations, going door to door to try to get other people to accept their ideology. Right? The way it’s often been used and interpreted, the Great Commission can seem pretty salesy. 

But if we’re truly practicing the Great Commission, it’s just as ego-free as the Great Commandment. Because the Great Commission is about love. It’s about sharing God’s message with others, so that each person we meet has an opportunity to experience the love, and forgiveness, and power that we have received through Jesus Christ. 

We can’t love others if we won’t teach them to follow Jesus. We can’t love others if we don’t share the good news that Jesus Christ has conquered sin and death; that he’s risen from the dead and here to teach his people himself. 

We can’t love God if we aren’t willing to be seen with him in public. We can’t love our neighbor as ourselves if we won’t share the message of salvation that means so much to our own lives. We have to say his name.

This is a heavy lift in our culture. At least in the circles I run in, it can feel like there’s an unspoken agreement that we should leave religion at the door. Religion is a private matter, like sex. It’s fine if you want to do it, but please keep it to yourself.

So it makes sense that those of us gathered together as Berkeley Friends Church are not so different from the first disciples. We’re scared of what Jesus is asking us. It says, “they worshiped him; but some doubted.” Some of us are doubting right now. And all of us, each and every one of us, has doubted at some point or another. Probably at many points along the way, am I right?

Jesus wasn’t concerned with the doubting. He didn’t stop and chastise the disciples who doubted. Jesus didn’t have time for shame. He kept bringing the disciples back to the cruciform love of God. He kept sharing his commandments: Love God. Love one another. Love your friends. Love your enemies.

Go and make disciples of all nations – even the Romans, who nailed me to a cross. Go and make disciples. Teach them to follow the way of love that I have taught you. Immerse them into the life that I have given you. Go, and make disciples.

We could never do this on our own. It would be impossible to overcome the flow of our culture and swim against the current if all of this were just a nice idea. But the kingdom of God is not a matter of talk, but of power. We are empowered to love God with our heart, soul, mind, and strength – and love our neighbors as ourselves. Even when it’s uncomfortable. Because Jesus is with us always. Always. Even until the end of the age.

What does it look like for us to be faithful to Jesus’ Great Commission? What does it mean for us to be sent and to go? 

How are we making disciples of all nations – all people regardless of their skin color, ethnicity, or language, or national origin, or any other facet of their identity? 

What are we doing to bless the people that God has placed in our lives, immersing them into the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit?

How are we being called to teach the spiritually tender people that God has connected us with. How are we teaching them to obey the risen and living Jesus?

The ways we share the victory announcement of the kingdom will vary depending on each person, each situation. We rely on the Holy Spirit to lead us. But if we are to continue in love, if we are to embrace this life-transforming relationship that we have with Jesus, we have to say his name.

Is It Too Late for Berkeley Friends Church?

This is a sermon that I preached on Sunday, 7/12/20, at Berkeley Friends Church (via videoconference). The scripture readings for this sermon were: Genesis 12:1-9 and Hebrews 11:8-12. You can listen to the audio, or keeping scrolling to read my manuscript. (The spoken sermon differs from the written text)

Listen to the Sermon Now

A couple of years ago, Faith and I were living in Washington, DC. We had a pretty good life there. We both had work we enjoyed. Our kids had school and childcare that met their needs. We loved our home and had some good friends. We felt comfortable.

We were at rest in our lives, but we were uneasy in our spirits. As well as things were going for us, we felt a yearning for more. More life. More spirit. More of God’s presence leading us, guiding us, flowing through our words and actions.

Even when everything rational told us that we should feel full, something gnawed at us, telling us we were empty. Our feet were firmly planted, but we could sense that God was calling us to take another step.

So when Dorothy Kakimoto reached out to us, asking us if we were open to exploring coming to serve as pastors at Berkeley Friends Church, we were ready to have that conversation with you. And as it became clear that God was clearing a path for us to join you here in California, we were prepared to embrace that invitation.

It would have been easy to resist that call, to turn away from the opening. There was a temptation to choose the easy, safe path – to continue doing the things that were mostly working and hope for the best. But we could sense that, in the words of Frank Herbert, “that path leads ever down into stagnation.” We could be safe, or we could be faithful; we had to choose.

In our readings this morning, we hear about Sarah and Abraham – back when they were still called Sarai and Abram. They had a choice to make. On the one hand, they had their safe, stable, predictable life in Haran. That’s where their family was, where they had gained their wealth and security. But they heard God calling them to set out on an adventure.

God said to Abram, “Go from your country and your kindred and your father’s house to the land that I will show you.” Go from everything that you’ve ever known. Go from those things that make you safe and comfortable, into a place you’ve never seen. Go, because you can trust me. Go, and I will be with you. I will bless you in every way. Go, and all the families of the earth will be blessed, too.

That’s a big leap of faith for anyone. But especially for Abraham and Sarah. Because they were very old, and they had no children. As far as they could see, their family had no future. They thought they were the end of the line. Yet they could hear the call of the Spirit of God. They felt the hunger for more. They could sense that there was a great adventure that they were being invited into.

God told Abraham and Sarah to go, and they went. They went out of the land where they had lived their whole lives, into a new place. The Lord showed them where their descendents would someday live – not as a wandering family, but as a great nation. 

And here’s an interesting part. They got to pitch their tent in the promised land. They got to drink from the rivers and eat from the fruit trees of Canaan. And while they camped in this land, God promised them that it would someday be a homeland for their family.

But then God called them to keep moving. It says that, after building an altar to God in the land he had promised, Abraham moved on. First to the east, and then south towards the Negeb. Abraham and Sarah had taken the big risk, and they had seen the promised land. But now they had to keep moving, because the promise was not only for them, but for all their descendents, for the next generation and on, and on.

I see this story in my own life. I see how God has called our family to uproot and travel to a land we don’t know, so that we will be blessed, and others will be blessed through us. I know that we haven’t reached the promised land yet, but we are on the path. We are living the adventure, with God leading us day by day.

We had something good in Washington, DC. We got to pitch our tent there, and we ate some of that promised-land fruit. But God wasn’t done with us. We had to keep moving, to cooperate with the grander, more beautiful vision that God has for us. 

If we wanted to be faithful, we couldn’t cling to our own comfort; we couldn’t accept just getting by. We had to let go of our own personal experience of the promised land so that we could become a blessing to the world. Because the promised land is not just for us; God wants to invite the whole world. God is giving us a hope and a future beyond our own little family as we know it today. God is expanding the circle, blessing all the families of the earth.

Can you see yourself in this story? Can you see Berkeley Friends Church? How are we, as a community, like Abraham and Sarah? Can we hear God calling us to a new adventure, a risky path of going where God calls us and discovering the promised land where God will lead us? Could God use Berkeley Friends Church to bless all the families of the earth, just like Abraham and Sarah?

I believe so. Because we’re a lot like Abraham and Sarah. As a community, we’re wealthy. We’re successful. We’re comfortable. We’re old. And, let’s admit it: we’re afraid that maybe we don’t have a future.

Abraham and Sarah thought that their family would die with them. That they would have no children to carry on their story. They were living their lives in a defensive crouch, waiting for the end.

So it must have come as a big shock when they discovered God calling them into a new adventure. At the age of 75, God was telling them, “Go! Try something new! Take a big risk, and I will walk with you. I will bless you. I will give you life, a hope and a future.”

Where did they find the courage to do this? What vision did they see that energized them to set on this long journey – a journey that still to this day is not over? 

The author of the Book of Hebrews says that Abraham and Sarah perceived something that no one else around them could. They experienced a hope that, at the time, must have seemed totally unrealistic. But on the basis of faith, they acted. They took the big leap and found that the God who spoke to them was trustworthy. 

God filled Abraham and Sarah with a powerful vision. He gave them eyes to see the future glory of God’s kingdom. A chain of events that God would use them to set in motion. A family history that would culminate in the savior of the world, Jesus Christ. 

And so in this hope, they set out on their great adventure. Hebrews says that they “looked forward to the city that has foundations, whose architect and builder is God.” They knew that they would not personally reach the end of the story, but by faith they knew how the story ended.

Even more than Abraham and Sarah, we know how this story ends. We know that the Lord Jesus has sat down at the right hand of the Father. We know that, in spite of all the terrible shakings we are witnessing right now, that the God we worship created the entire cosmos, and he sees ahead to the end. He is Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end.

This is the reality that Abraham and Sarah experienced, leaving their home in Haran thousands of years ago, back when the Middle East was still the Fertile Crescent. This is the faith, hope, and love that gave them the courage to risk abandoning everything they knew – even in their old age – to embrace the great adventure that the Spirit whispered in their hearts.

Do you hear that whisper? What is the adventure that the Spirit is beckoning us to discover together? What are the risks that we must take, the safety that we must abandon, to be reborn in our descendants and become a blessing to our city, our nation, our cosmos?

You are not an accident. We are not an accident. It’s not random coincidence that we’ve been drawn together at this point in history. God has called us to be Berkeley Friends Church, to be this particular community in Jesus Christ. The Spirit has called each one of us here. God has a purpose for us, and he is ready to guide us together.

2020 is a time of shaking, the likes of which we’ve never experienced. In times like these, it’s natural to want to retreat to the beforetimes. It can be tempting to say, “Oh, boy – I’ll sure be glad when this is all over. When the pandemic ends, we get a vaccine, and we can all go back to the way things were before. Lord, take me back to 2019!”

There’s no going back to 2019. Things will never be like they were before. 

If we’re honest with ourselves, that’s a good thing. We knew in 2019 that our community needed a change. We knew that God was calling us to something deeper. We had that hunger that Abraham and Sarah experienced, that deep desire for more of God, more of his life and power and spirit in our lives. We wanted more, and we knew the status quo couldn’t get us where we wanted to go.

Well, good news: The status quo is gone. 2020 has swept all of that away. We are in brand-new, uncharted territory. We don’t know what comes next. All we do know is that we serve a God who sends us out. We serve a God who invites us into the risky path of vulnerability, discovery, and adventure.

We stand with Abraham and Sarah on the border of Haran, looking out at the road ahead. We stand with Jesus by the Sea of Galilee as he calls our name. We stand with the apostles, as the Holy Spirit fills the whole house and joins us into one body, one community. Together with all the saints, we “look forward to the city that has foundations, whose architect and builder is God.”

Do you hear that voice? Do you hear the call? Do you feel the hope breaking through the fear? Are you ready for the adventure?

The years to come will not be like those that came before. Our community will change in ways we can’t even imagine right now. This is a good thing. We are blessed – and God will make us a blessing to the world.

Let go of your fear. We don’t have to die without descendants. God has given us a future. The future will be different. We will have to change. But God will care for us. Open yourself to the adventure. God wants to bless us and make us as numerous as the stars.

Say “yes” when God says “go.” Say “yes” to God’s adventure. Say “yes” to the stretching and struggle and upheaval that stands before us. Because we will pitch our tents in the promised land and eat from the fruit trees there. We will set up our altar and give praise to God in the land where he is leading us. We will journey onward, led by the Spirit and trusting in Jesus to prepare a place for us. There is a home for us, and many are yet to be gathered.