Texts: Matthew 4:1-11; 5:13-14

Speaker: Amy Huser: Sustainability and Outdoor Education Director at Camp Friedenswald

About a year or so ago I was sitting in the Electric Brew, a coffee shop in Goshen, with Doug Kaufman, the Director of Pastoral Ecology for the Mennonite organization – Center for Sustainable Climate Solutions – talking about climate change – and he brought up the topic of lament as it relates to our work in this area,  “It is very important to lament what is happening to the earth, and lament is a place that the church and pastors can really provide support for people – they know how to handle grief.”  I paused, and then replied, “Pastors are really into lament, aren’t they?  I’d rather talk about hope and action.”  Luckily Doug didn’t get up and leave in offence at my almost impolite comment, although he may have wondered if I am a true Mennonite – speaking in such a blunt manner!

The truth is – at that point I’d developed a pretty strong aversion to the words lament and grief. 

This was partially due to a pretty intense season of grief I went through a number of years before – around 2014 – grief over the lack of will or action in our social and political institutions to solve climate change – and along with that, the full realization that individual lifestyle changes could not come close to creating the conditions necessary for a sustainable world.  We needed a complete transformation of our social and economic systems at a global scale.  This realization hit me hard. 

Mennonites (along with lots of other folks) like to work hard to make the world a better place.  We highly value our sense of agency.  One of the major faults of the sustainability movement is the…

https://joelssermons.files.wordpress.com/2020/01/20200119sermon.mp3

The first half of the audio is a historical reading of Mennonite Central Committee, and three members briefly telling of the MCC service experiences.  The sermon begins around the 17 minute mark.

Text: 2 Corinthians 5:18-20

Back in 2004, I had the opportunity to attend the Council for a Parliament of the World’s Religions in Barcelona, Spain.  Along with being happy to just be there, I was especially interested in how these different philosophies and religions would find common ground.  I attended seminars with titles like: “Middle East stories: The significance of the Holy Land in our Sacred Texts,” “A Buddhist-Christian dialogue on responses to environmental violence,” “Interreligious dialogue and non-negotiable dogmas.”  In between seminars there was plenty of time for random conversations with whoever I found sitting or walking next to me, most of them not Christian or American.

One of the things I remember most, now 16 years later, had nothing to do with theological dialogue.  It related to something we all had in common: We all had to eat.  There were plenty of options.  One of them was in a large tent by the conference center.  Every day of the Parliament members of the Sikh religion prepared, cooked, served and cleaned up a free lunch for everyone who wanted to eat with them.  Being a poor seminary student, I went every day.  So did many others.

As we learned, this meal had a name: Langar.  A langar is, by definition, a vegetarian meal Sikhs serve out of a community kitchen that is open to everyone, regardless of religion, race, economic status, etc.

At a large conference about religious cooperation and understanding, the langar enacted what those seminars with fascinating names, and pretty fascinating content, spoke of.

I must say, it’s eye opening to be on the receiving end of hospitality, to experience…

https://joelssermons.files.wordpress.com/2020/01/20200119sermon.mp3

The first half of the audio is a historical reading of Mennonite Central Committee, and three members briefly telling of the MCC service experiences.  The sermon begins around the 17 minute mark.

Text: 2 Corinthians 5:18-20

Speaker: Joel Miller

Back in 2004, I had the opportunity to attend the Council for a Parliament of the World’s Religions in Barcelona, Spain.  Along with being happy to just be there, I was especially interested in how these different philosophies and religions would find common ground.  I attended seminars with titles like: “Middle East stories: The significance of the Holy Land in our Sacred Texts,” “A Buddhist-Christian dialogue on responses to environmental violence,” “Interreligious dialogue and non-negotiable dogmas.”  In between seminars there was plenty of time for random conversations with whoever I found sitting or walking next to me, most of them not Christian or American.

One of the things I remember most, now 16 years later, had nothing to do with theological dialogue.  It related to something we all had in common: We all had to eat.  There were plenty of options.  One of them was in a large tent by the conference center.  Every day of the Parliament members of the Sikh religion prepared, cooked, served and cleaned up a free lunch for everyone who wanted to eat with them.  Being a poor seminary student, I went every day.  So did many others.

As we learned, this meal had a name: Langar.  A langar is, by definition, a vegetarian meal Sikhs serve out of a community kitchen that is open to everyone, regardless of religion, race, economic status, etc.

At a large conference about religious cooperation and understanding, the langar enacted what those seminars with fascinating names, and pretty fascinating content, spoke of.

I must say, it’s eye opening to be on the receiving end of hospitality,…

https://joelssermons.files.wordpress.com/2020/01/20200119sermon.mp3

The first half of the audio is a historical reading of Mennonite Central Committee, and three members briefly telling of the MCC service experiences.  The sermon begins around the 17 minute mark.

Text: 2 Corinthians 5:18-20

Speaker: Joel Miller

Back in 2004, I had the opportunity to attend the Council for a Parliament of the World’s Religions in Barcelona, Spain.  Along with being happy to just be there, I was especially interested in how these different philosophies and religions would find common ground.  I attended seminars with titles like: “Middle East stories: The significance of the Holy Land in our Sacred Texts,” “A Buddhist-Christian dialogue on responses to environmental violence,” “Interreligious dialogue and non-negotiable dogmas.”  In between seminars there was plenty of time for random conversations with whoever I found sitting or walking next to me, most of them not Christian or American.

One of the things I remember most, now 16 years later, had nothing to do with theological dialogue.  It related to something we all had in common: We all had to eat.  There were plenty of options.  One of them was in a large tent by the conference center.  Every day of the Parliament members of the Sikh religion prepared, cooked, served and cleaned up a free lunch for everyone who wanted to eat with them.  Being a poor seminary student, I went every day.  So did many others.

As we learned, this meal had a name: Langar.  A langar is, by definition, a vegetarian meal Sikhs serve out of a community kitchen that is open to everyone, regardless of religion, race, economic status, etc.

At a large conference about religious cooperation and understanding, the langar enacted what those seminars with fascinating names, and pretty fascinating content, spoke of.

I must say, it’s eye opening to be on the receiving end of hospitality,…

Texts: Isaiah 42:1-9; Matthew 3:13-17

Speaker: Mark Rupp

I want to start this morning with an excerpt from a poem called “Traditional Values Worldview” by the spoken word artist named Levi the Poet.  In the first half of the poem, we enter the story of a young woman traveling with her father, a sea captain.  She meets a young man on one of their island stops, and here we pick up as the young woman and this new friend head off looking for adventure:

~~~

[You can read and listen to the full poem HERE.  The excerpt during the sermon began about halfway through the poem at the line: “The boy and I met a mystic…”.]

~~~

The story of Jesus’ baptism is a bit confounding for those of us who may have grown up with a theology of baptism sunk so deeply into the notion of washing away sin that we have forgotten where the surface really is or what it means to fill our lungs to the brink of overflowing.  Those of us who broke forth from the waters gasping toward a forgiveness that could finally make us good,

enough,

we echo that voice from the wilderness stuttering over the thought of the one we’ve been waiting for wading within those waters;

our sloughed-off sin still floating dangerously near the surface, we smile sheepishly at those stubborn stains we’re afraid might still yet need to be beaten out on the rocks. 

When baptism becomes an exercise in “hate the sin but love the sinner” turned inward, conveniently creating sacramental losers and winners, Jesus’ approach toward those waters should give us pause:

…

…

…

Maybe it wasn’t ever about hating anything.

Maybe those mountain mystics who declare their feet evil for ever touching the ground have forgotten that the Divine dances to the music of flutes that must not be refused; she…