Sunday, August 16, 2020

Today's Worship Service and Sermon - Sunday, August 16, 2020

 Worship for the Lord’s Day

August 16, 2020

A Note before we begin this day’s worship:

          Several people have asked me why I haven’t been doing “livestreams” of worship from the church.  My simple explanation is this; I believe that worship is not a spectator event.  It is something that we, as worshipers, should be actively involved in.  Livestreaming worship feels more like a TV show, where you sit back and let others do-it-for-you.  The method I’ve employed here, good or bad, suggests that you participate in our worship, as well as listen.

          We are working on the possibility of doing parking lot worship services in September at Bethesda before returning to corporate worship in both of our buildings – Bethesda and Olivet.  I might take a Sunday or two off before we return to worship in the buildings as I haven’t taken a single day off doing the Daily Meditations or Sunday worship.  That week, I’ll either post ahead of time or will post something offered by our Presbytery Staff who have put together various worship services for churches to use.

As we make any of those plans, we’ll let you know details as needed.

Be patient.  We will be together again, soon!  Until then, let’s begin:

Prelude

Opening Prayer

Lord, be with us today as we come to You from all life’s journeys and circumstances.  Give us courage and strength for the day with peace and hope for tomorrow.  Fill us with Your love and grace that we may serve You effectively and fully each day.  Quiet our hearts, still our minds, and fortify our bodies as we worship You today.  AMEN.

Hymn  How Firm a Foundation

Prayer of Confession

God of infinite mercy and love, we come before You today, knowing that we have not always been faithful to what You would have us do.  We have too often turned our backs on those in need, choosing not to hear their cries.  Forgive us, O Lord.  We know that You do not want us to behave in this way.  Your love and mercy, so generously showered over us, should be a beacon to guide our own actions.  We make no excuses, for none would suffice.  We ask only for Your forgiveness and blessing, turning us around and placing us on the path of compassion and peace once more.  This prayer we offer in Jesus’ name.  AMEN.

Words of Assurance

God’s love is greater than our understanding and our comprehension.  That love is continually given to each and every one of us each day.  Rejoice!  God’s forgiving love is poured out for you now and always.  AMEN.

Affirmation of Faith – The Apostles’ Creed

I believe in God the Father Almighty, Maker of heaven and earth; and in Jesus Christ His only Son our Lord, Who was conceived by the Holy Ghost; born of the Virgin Mary; suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified, dead, and buried; He descended into hell; the third day He rose again from the dead; He ascended into heaven and sitteth on the right hand of God the Father Almighty; from thence He shall come to judge the quick and the dead.  I believe in the Holy Ghost; the holy catholic church; the communion of saints; the forgiveness of sins; the resurrection of the body; and the life everlasting.  Amen.

Pastoral Prayer:

(Continued prayers for all those affected by the Coronavirus, for our schools, for our national leaders, and for Beirut.  I just received word yesterday from a mutual friend that my colleague and friend, Dr. Johnny Awwad in Beirut is fine.  He is organizing many recovery efforts in the midst of growing violence, protests, and unrest in Lebanon.  Please continue to keep him and our Presbyterian Church in Lebanon in prayer.)

          How beautiful is the diversity of Your children!  Lord, You have blessed us with such variety in our fellow human beings. You have not demanded that everyone be the same, have the same degree of faith, offer the same service.  You have given freely of Your healing love to each one of us.  Today we offer many names in prayer for healing, restoration, hope, and peace – these names come from our heart to Yours.  We know that You hear each cry for healing.  We also know that You have heard all the prayers we offer, even if we have offered those prayers alone.  Now, let us place our trust in Your compassion.  Let us remember that Your blessings extend to all people.  Strengthen us in this time to be witnesses to Your love and servants in ministry to all Your people. 

For we ask these things in the name of Jesus Christ our Savior who taught us to pray saying; Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be Thy name.  Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.  Give us this day our daily bread.  Forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors.  And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.  For Thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, forever.  AMEN.

Hymn  Just As I Am

Scripture Readings

Old Testament: Genesis 45:1-15

Then Joseph could no longer control himself before all those who stood by him, and he cried out, “Send everyone away from me.” So no one stayed with him when Joseph made himself known to his brothers. 2And he wept so loudly that the Egyptians heard it, and the household of Pharaoh heard it. 3Joseph said to his brothers, “I am Joseph. Is my father still alive?” But his brothers could not answer him, so dismayed were they at his presence. 4Then Joseph said to his brothers, “Come closer to me.” And they came closer. He said, “I am your brother, Joseph, whom you sold into Egypt. 5And now do not be distressed, or angry with yourselves, because you sold me here; for God sent me before you to preserve life. 6For the famine has been in the land these two years; and there are five more years in which there will be neither plowing nor harvest. 7God sent me before you to preserve for you a remnant on earth, and to keep alive for you many survivors. 8So it was not you who sent me here, but God; he has made me a father to Pharaoh, and lord of all his house and ruler over all the land of Egypt. 9Hurry and go up to my father and say to him, ‘Thus says your son Joseph, God has made me lord of all Egypt; come down to me, do not delay. 10You shall settle in the land of Goshen, and you shall be near me, you and your children and your children’s children, as well as your flocks, your herds, and all that you have. 11I will provide for you there—since there are five more years of famine to come—so that you and your household, and all that you have, will not come to poverty.’ 12And now your eyes and the eyes of my brother Benjamin see that it is my own mouth that speaks to you. 13You must tell my father how greatly I am honored in Egypt, and all that you have seen. Hurry and bring my father down here.” 14Then he fell upon his brother Benjamin’s neck and wept, while Benjamin wept upon his neck. 15And he kissed all his brothers and wept upon them; and after that his brothers talked with him.

New Testament: Matthew 15:21-28

21Jesus left that place and went away to the district of Tyre and Sidon. 22Just then a Canaanite woman from that region came out and started shouting, “Have mercy on me, Lord, Son of David; my daughter is tormented by a demon.” 23But he did not answer her at all. And his disciples came and urged him, saying, “Send her away, for she keeps shouting after us.” 24He answered, “I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.” 25But she came and knelt before him, saying, “Lord, help me.” 26He answered, “It is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.” 27She said, “Yes, Lord, yet even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their masters’ table.” 28Then Jesus answered her, “Woman, great is your faith! Let it be done for you as you wish.” And her daughter was healed instantly.

Anthem – Schindler’s List – this violin piece is haunting in its simplicity and soul stirring.  The taping of this video was done in 2017 in the largest synagogue in Europe in Budapest by violinist Csonger Korossy-Khayll.

Sermon –  Just a note: You can click on the sermon title and hear/watch me give this sermon via YouTube.

Eating the Crumbs

(based on Matthew 15:21-28)

Today’s passage describes one of those difficult moments in Jesus’ life.  What makes it so difficult is how harsh Jesus sounds, how harsh and downright rude.  First he refuses to answer a woman pleading for his help, then he denies that he has anything to offer “her kind,” and finally he likens her to a dog - before the sheer force of her faith changes something in him and he decides to answer her prayer after all.

          The problem for Jesus is that she is a Canaanite woman, one of the kinds of people with whom observant Jews of Jesus’ time had very little contact.  She comes from the coastal region of Syria, where strange gods are worshiped, and ritual laws of cleanliness are unknown.  Therefore, she is both an outsider and what was considered an untouchable to the Jewish population.

          Earlier, in the tenth chapter of Matthew, Jesus himself warns his disciples to steer clear of Gentiles, like this Canaanite woman, reminding them that they have been sent only to the lost sheep of Israel.  The only problem for Jesus, up to this point in Matthew, is that the lost sheep don’t seem to want to be found.  In spite of Jesus’ undivided attention to them, they are not rushing to respond to his shepherd’s call.

          The setting for today’s reading is that he has just come from Nazareth, his own hometown, where his friends and family have doubted his authority and taken offense at his teaching.  They don’t believe he is who he says he is.  And so, he’s decided to withdraw from the crowds for a while, but the crowds have followed him, and he has, with five loaves and two fish, fed them all thinking that this might give them faith.  But then there was the storm at sea and Peter’s wish to cross the water, ruined by Peter’s fear and doubt, “o ye, of little faith”. 

          And now on top of all that comes this Canaanite woman crying out to him to heal her daughter – one more of the needy multitudes who want something from him – only this one does a shocking thing:  She calls him by rightful, revealed name, “O Lord, Son of David.”  It is the title reserved for the Messiah, the title his own people have refused to recognize in him and have withheld from him.  When this Gentile, Canaanite woman addresses him as the Son of David, she names something in him that even his own disciples have failed to recognize, and it must seem like a mean trick of fate to him to hear what he most wants to hear coming from the mouth of someone he least wants to hear it from.

          So, he does not answer her.  He draws a line, as surely as if he had leaned down and traced it in the dust at his feet.  Enough is enough.  He will go no further.  The bank is closed.  The doctor is out.  The sign on the door says, “Closed for Business.”  He will not take another request.  So, what if she called him by name?  He refuses to waste his energy on this Gentile woman while his own people go wanting, and have yet to recognize him.  “I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel,” he says to the woman, and that is supposed to be that.

          The problem is that this woman will not stay on her side of the line.  Kneeling at his feet, she says, “Lord, help me.”  Jesus has dismissed her, but she will not be dismissed; she has gotten her foot in the door before Jesus can close it in her face, and she shows no sign of leaving before he has dealt with her.  “Lord, help me,” she says. 

Where have we heard that before?  One of those honest, soul-wrenching prayers that I talked about last week when we have come to the end of our rope – we have nowhere else to go, so we turn to God, with no words but “Help”.

Can’t she hear?  He has told her no, told her that she is not one of his own sheep, but she doesn’t seem to have gotten the message so he says it again, louder and clearer than before.  “It is not fair to take the children’s bread and throw it to the dogs,” he says.  I have thought long and hard on this statement by Christ.  I have thought about it when I see people being treated unfairly.  I have thought about it for my own life.  I think that is downright the cruelest comment Jesus makes in all of scripture.

          I suppose we need to take a step back, however.  We sometimes forget that Jesus was also a human being like you and I.  And since Jesus was a human being as well as the Son of God, it seems fair to guess what might have been going on with him.  He was discouraged and weary and a long way from home.  Every time he turned around someone wanted something from him, but at the same time no one wanted what he most wanted to give – namely, himself, in terms of who he was for them and not only in terms of what he could do for them.  He is literally at the frayed end of his own rope, and he is all but used up.  It’s a taking world, taking everything he has to give, but giving nothing in response; no faith, no understanding, no belief in him.  I’m sure, at this point, he might have felt, “Why should I continue to give?”

          It’s not really that hard to imagine how that feels, even if you don’t happen to be the Messiah – to be surrounded by people who want your money and your time and your gifts but who do not seem much interested in who you really are; to be confused about what you are supposed to do, how much you are supposed to give, and to be worried about whether there is enough of you to go around.

          The telephone rings and it is the Disabled American Veterans selling light bulbs that last longer than the ones you normally buy at the store.  Or it’s the fire department recruiting sponsors for handicapped children, or the kidney foundation seeking generous donations.  If you can’t do $25 dollars now, can we, at least, count on you for $15.  Every day’s mail brings more pleas for help from every cause under the sun: animal rights, the environment, child abuse prevention, civil liberties, cancer prevention.

          You have to draw the line somewhere, right?  You have to decide what you can do and what you cannot do, whom you can help and whom you cannot help, or you will be eaten alive.  You’ll be swallowed whole and you may never even be missed, because everything you have is not enough to feed the hunger of the world.  Well, I think that’s a point most of us reach and often we decide to draw the line around our own families and friends, around our own churches and communities and concerns.

          We draw the line and, like Jesus, we may lose our tempers when outsiders try to cross it, because they are challenging the limits we have placed on ourselves to protect ourselves.  Strangers show up saying, “Help me,” and we invoke the line, the line that separates insiders from outsiders, clean from unclean, family from the wolves that howl outside our doors.  “It is not fair to take the children’s bread and throw it to the dogs,” we say, or something to that effect.  It sounds harsh, but what are you going to do?  You have to draw the line somewhere.

          But the Canaanite woman simply will not budge.  It reminds me of a game children play, in which two of them look steadily into each other’s eyes, each trying to make the other blink first.  Jesus all but claps his hands in the woman’s face, trying to get her to blink and leave.  But she doesn’t blink.  “Yes, Lord” she says when he calls her a dog, “yet even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their master’s table.”  All she wants is a crumb.  Not some monumental fete.  Not some gourmet meal prepared exclusively for her.  Just a crumb of his attention.  Just a miniscule piece of scrap thrown carelessly, dropped by haphazard mistake, her way.

          Something in Jesus changes, something in him snaps.  And he blinks.  This mother just wants her daughter to be healed.  “What am I doing?”, he probably thinks.  His anger dissolves.  Something in him is rearranged and changed forever, a change you can hear in his voice.  “O woman, great is your faith,” he says to her.  “Be it done for you as you desire.”  And her daughter is healed instantly.

          The line he had drawn between him and the woman disappears; the limits he had placed on himself vanish, and you can almost hear the huge wheel of history turning as Jesus comes to a new understanding of who he really is and what he has been called by God to do.  He is no longer a Messiah called only to the lost sheep of Israel, instead he is God’s chosen redeemer of the whole world, Jews and Gentiles alike, beginning with this Canaanite woman.

          Through her faith he learns that God’s purpose for him is bigger than even he had imagined, that there is enough of him to go around, and in that instant there is no going back to the limits he observed even a moment ago.  The old boundaries will not contain his new vision; he must rub them out and draw them bigger, to include this foreign woman today and who knows who tomorrow.  It looks like answering God’s call means that he can no longer control his ministry or narrow his mission.  There is no more safety or certainty for him, no more guarding against loss or hanging on to his cherished notions about the way things ought to be.  Faith works like a lever on him, opening his arms wider and wider until there is room for the whole world in them and I believe it is in that moment with this Canaanite woman, praying a simple prayer, “Lord, help me” when He truly became the Son of David, the Messiah, the Redeemer of the World, in his own eyes.

          And isn’t that the way it goes for us too?  Over and over, God’s call to us means pushing old boundaries, embracing outsiders, giving up the notion that there is not enough of us to go around.  That our faith, our trust, our limits are bigger than we could even imagine.  We may resist; we may even lose our tempters, but the call of God is insistent, as insistent as the Canaanite woman who would not leave Jesus alone.  The call of God keeps after us, calling us by name, until finally we step over the lines we have drawn for ourselves and discover a whole new world on the other side.  The call of God is insistent, and whenever we limit who will be on our side of the line and who will be on the other side of the line, who gets the gourmet meal and who gets the crumbs, God gets to work in us, rubbing out the lines we have drawn around ourselves and preparing a feast for all. 

          It can be painful perhaps, at first – as painful as it was for Jesus to hear a Canaanite woman call him Lord when his own family would not; as painful as it was for him to step beyond generations of tradition and respond to her faith; as painful as it is for any one of us to step over the lines we have drawn to protect ourselves and explore unknown terrain, as painful as it might be for us to fully embrace the idea that there aren’t some people more deserving of caviar, while others deserve only bread crumbs.

          Let go!  Step out!  Look a Canaanite in the eye, ask an outsider what her life is like, trespass an old boundary, enter a new relationship, push a limit, take a risk, give up playing it safe!  You have nothing to lose but your life the way it has been, and there is lots more life where that one came from.  And if you get scared, which you will, and if you get mad, which you probably will too, remember today’s story.  With Jesus as our model – and our Lord – we are called to step over the lines we have drawn for ourselves and prepare a feast for all, not because we have to or want to, not even because we ought to, but because we know that it is God’s own self who waits for us on the other side, not with bread crumbs for us to eat, but with a whole feast prepared for all.  AMEN.

Hymn  God Be With You Till We Meet Again

Benediction

Jesus’ love and compassion has been poured out for you today.  Go into the world in confidence, bearing forgiveness and love for all God’s people.  Go in peace.  AMEN.

Postlude

 

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