mitford sermons

7/28/2019 Mitford Sermons

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Preached by Doug Diehlduring the summer of 1997

at

Zion United Methodist ChurchGrand Forks, North Dakota

(Sermons based on Mitford Series by Jan Karon)

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ORDINARY DAYSScripture Reading: Matthew 8:1-22

I suppose it was during my pastorate in Britton, SD when the Presbyterian Church was withouta pastor and the pastor of the Lutheran Church was gone with his wife as she went through cancertreatment. I was left as the sole mainline Protestant pastor in the area. I was overwhelmed. TheLenten season gave stress enough but now for several weeks it seemed that as soon as I finishedone funeral service I would receive another death call. I was tired - stressed out. I was moaning andgroaning. I whined to Dawn, I wish so much that life would go back to normal. Dawn quickly

brought me up short. Doug, just exactly when was life normal? Is it possible that life could everreally be normal? And then she said something like, Get over it.I think about that conversation whenever I wish for life to return to some imaginary normal.

Really, if I were to define it what would be normal?One of the unanticipated blessings I have received since coming to Zion is the appearance of

a literary mentor. In the past several months Connie Sherwood has introduced me to many goodbooks. At the top of the list is a series by Jan Karon about life in an imaginary small town by thename of Mitford, nestled in the Blue Ridge Mountains of North Carolina. Some of you have alreadyenjoyed them. The Sunday after Christmas Ken Sherwood introduced them to this congregation inhis sermon. During the Thursday Lenten study Jo Hurley referred to them in a devotional. In thetradition of James Herriot and Garrison Keillor Jan writes about Father Tim, a 60 year old, bachelor,Episcopalian rector.

These books will be the basis for my sermons this summer. It may not seem appropriate topreach from bookstore novels, but I wont apologize because these profound and delightful booksare woven together by scripture and a childlike faith in Jesus. I invite you to read them along withme.

Jan Karon, the author, describes the nature of the faith she writes about - In my books I try todepict not a glorious faith with celestial fireworks, but a daily faith, a routine faith, a seven-days-a-week faith. Father Tims faith is part of his everyday life. He has simple prayers, not polished, piousprayers. He follows the Apostle Pauls command to pray without ceasing .... I believe that spiritualityneeds to be basic, common, everyday. She goes on - Father Tim .... operates on the fuel, thesteam that comes from his relationship with Jesus Christ .... hes definitely into reclamationrecycling, helping people find the way which is what Jesus is all about.

I most enjoy Jan Karons ability to understand the heart and the life of a pastor. Actually, it isnothing more than understanding the joys and struggles of any human soul attempting to work outtheir faith and attempting to get along with the people put in ones path.

The first book opens with Father Tim making his way to his study. We read a basic tenet ofhis philosophy He often noted the minor miracle of passing through a door into a completelydifferent world, with different smells and attractions. It helped to be aware of the little things in life ....He arrived at the office, uttering the prayer he had offered at its door every morning for twelve years:Father, make me a blessing to someone today, through Christ our Lord. Amen. (At Home in Mitfordby Jan Karon, p. 9)

This is Father Tim at his best. But in his humanness, on this particular day at least, when heis feeling worn and haggard from the stress of it all, he is hoping that it will just be an ordinarymorning.

Father Tim however doesnt realize that one cant wish for an ordinary morning while at thesame time treating each doorway as an entry into a new experience and praying to be a blessing tosomeone on the other side of that doorway.

On this morning, when he yearns for the ordinary, he is adopted by a slobbering, black, mud-caked dog and his secretary, with whom he struggles because she treats him like a ten-year-old, hasgone and had her gray hair dyed red. And in not too many pages later a hostile mountain boy by thename of Dooley is thrust into his care, an elderly parishioner offers the church $5 million to build anursing home, and a woman by the name of Cynthia moves next door and stirs emotions inside ofhim that he hasnt felt for years. So much for ordinary.

I would guess that there arent too many of us gathered here today who dont yearn for anordinary day or a normal life. Especially now. If there ever was ordinary or normal it is only adistant memory. I desperately want to go back. In spite of the great blessings of all the help wehave received and the great new friendships I have made and the new lower level we will have built Ilong for the day when we no longer have trailers parked behind the church and we are no longerinundated with phone calls and mail expressing concern and offering help and we no longer have allkinds of extra people wandering in and out of the church.

To wish for the ordinary may be very human but it is also misdirected. If held on to too tightlyit will cause impatience, bitterness and dissatisfaction. Actually it is better to realize that theordinary or the normal is a relative term. What is ordinary to one is extraordinary to another.

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PREACHING IN RAGGED SHORTSScripture Reading: 2 Corinthians 4:1-18

My challenge concerning the building project and the length of my hair actually began lastsummer. I was directing a 5-6 grade camp at Wesley Acres and two of the male counselors hadpony tails. One day when they were together I complimented them on their hair and confessed thatalthough I had fairly long hair when I was in college I regretted I never had it long enough to have a

pony tail. Now it was too late. My bald spot was getting bigger by the day and I was getting too old.I probably would have left it at that except some young female campers had gathered to listen in onour conversation and one of them commented, Doug, you know you cant have a ponytail? Icant? Of course not. If you had a ponytail you wouldnt be able to be pastor anymore.

Let me tell you. Something deep down inside of me, left over from the late 60's, arose out ofthe depths of my soul and in an instant linked me back to a bit of rebelliousness still left over.

Back in those days I was extremely upset by a mind set in my home church linking inward faithand outward appearance. I was having my own personal struggles with my parents over long hair.One of their concerns was what would the people in church think? Of course today I understandthat much better. As an old man myself, I have developed my own standards - how could someoneever look like that and love Jesus at the same time? Well, that is what was going on in my homechurch and although I was extremely shy at the time and had no thoughts of wanting to be a pastorone of my secret wishes was to someday get up in front of the church and preach to them a sermonabout the hypocrisy in saying that someone had to look a certain way before they were good enoughfor Jesus and the church.

That day never came. Something happened to me in the meantime. I met Jesus Christ in away I had never known him and He became my Savior, my Lord, and my Friend. The day did comefor me to stand up in front of the church but now the issues were different. I still believed thatoutward appearance and inward faith could not be too easily linked. In fact, by that time I had longhair. But whereas before my emphasis would have been on outward appearance now it was inwardfaith. I wasnt as concerned about the hypocrisy. I was more concerned that these people who hadnurtured me through church also knew Jesus as I had come to know him.

Thats a long story to explain what happened to me last summer at camp. But like I said -when that young girl told me I couldnt be a pastor and have a pony tail at the same time I thought tomyself, Oh, yeah, who says so?

The summer conversation was tucked away in my mind and worked itself out when we beganour discussion on the building expansion campaign. In a fit of convoluted inspiration I decided thiswas the chance to have some fun, get in my pony tail before all my hair fell out and test the theorythat indeed one could be a pastor and have a pony tail at the same time. And I thank you all for yourgraciousness in putting up with it.

Just what does it take to be able to preach the gospel? Just what kinds of things woulddiscount ones ability to preach the gospel? I dont worry so much about long hair nullifying myadequacy to preach as I do about a lot of other areas of my life. What right do I have to preach thegospel of Jesus Christ after a week in which my devotional life is on the skids? What right do I haveto share the good news when my mind is full of negativism, worry and other forms of stinkinthinkin? What right do I have to preach the wonderful words of life when it seems sometimes I cantkeep my office organized and my own personal life together? What right do I have to stand in thispulpit after I have procrastinated my sermon to Saturday night again? Sometimes I am soinadequate, so unworthy. Why would God ever want to use me?

The direction for my sermons this summer come from the Mitford books by Jan Karon. I amamazed at the central character - Father Tim. This 60 year old, bachelor, Episcopalian rectorstruggles with the same stresses and challenges I do. I am amazed that the author could understandit all so well.

Inspiration for this sermon came from a conversation between Father Tim and hishousekeeper, Puny Bradshaw. Father Tim knew he needed a housekeeper. He couldnt keep upwith everything. His church saw the problem even more clearly. They pushed for help and Punyarrived on the scene.

Father Tim actually was embarrassed by the whole thing. He snuck out of the house just asshe was coming in on the first day so that he would not have to go through the awful trial of having totell her what to do. Little did he know that wouldnt be a problem. From the first moment Punywalked in, she took over the house.

This is how the book reads as Father Tim sneaks out, He was humiliated to think that, thenight before, he had hidden his laundry in a pillow case and stuffed it into the back of his closet, likesome sneak thief or chicken poacher. What was considerably worse is that she had found it. Whenhe came home around noon to pick up his sermon notebook, she met him in the hall.

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Father, she said, shamelessly holding up the most ragged pair of shorts he owned, yourunderwear looks like its been in a cat fight. How in the world do you preach a sermon in thesethings?

He was so stunned by this display that he hadnt been able to reply.Dont mind me, she said, seeing that he minded very much. My granpaw was a preacher

and I waited on im hand and foot for years, so you might say Im cut out for this job. Tell you whatnext time Im at WalMart over in Wesley, Ill get you a dozen pairs, cause Im goin to use these forcleanin rags! (At Home in Mitford by Jan Karon, p. 97)

What does it take to be a preacher? What qualifies one to be a sharer of the good news? Isit possible to preach the word of God wearing ragged shorts? Ill never tell.

This sermon is not about me or Father Tim. It is about all of us. I suppose a case could bemade about a special calling for full-time ordained pastors but in many more ways we all havereceived the same calling - the calling to share Jesus in wonderful and various ways. It is mostenjoyable to read in the Mitford books about the sundry characters - and some of them are realcharacters - to see how they are used by God to make that part of the world a better place.

It is no different for us. We are all characters of some sort or another but if we have askedJesus into our lives we now have what it takes to share Jesus whether it be from behind the pulpit orover the fence or around the lunch table.

In these past few months my attention has been drawn to 2 Corinthians 4. Actually it wasFrank Hutton, the director of United Campus Ministries, who turned my attention there. We decidedto memorize this chapter together. Frank is doing much better than me.

Two portions of that chapter stand out to me. First the very first verse, Therefore, sincethrough Gods mercy we have this ministry, we do not lose heart. I am not up here behind the pulpitthis morning or any morning because I have somehow earned the right, or received the necessarytraining, or because I fit the proper mold. Through Gods mercy I have this ministry - it is a gift. Paulsays that when we remember it is a gift we do not lose heart. How often that has got me through inthese past months. God has given me this gift. God empowers me. God enables me. Knowing that -I do not need to give up when I feel like giving up, even when I feel incredibly inadequate.

The second portion of this chapter which speaks to me is verse 7 - but we have this treasurein jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us. Once again I amreminded that what makes me adequate is not what lies on the outside. This long-haired vessel isonly a common, ordinary - maybe even ugly - jar of clay. It is the treasure inside that counts, thattreasure being Jesus Christ. So often my attention is drawn to the vessel and in some convolutedmanner I attempt to diminish the treasure by putting myself down or thinking I am not good enough orworrying that I am not talented enough. But it is not my vessel that diminishes the treasure. It is thetreasure lying within that gives value to the vessel. It is an amazing and remarkable gift of grace.

Again this sermon is not just about me. It is about all of us. All of us jars of clay have withinus this treasure if we have asked Jesus into our lives. If we are ever at a place where we say we arenot good enough or talented enough or trained enough or courageous enough to share in theministry of Jesus it is because we have become too focused on the jar of clay instead of on thetreasure it contains. We have this treasure. It has nothing to do with us. It has everything to do withJesus Christ.

So what does this all mean? First of all I want us to pray for men and women in thiscongregation to be raised up to be ministers of the gospel - ordained or non-ordained. Even in ourgreat neediness we are called to give. Second, I want us each, as individuals, to open ourselves upto the possibility that we might be the ones being called. Third, I want us to remember that we havereceived this ministry through Gods mercy, dependent on the treasure that lies within and not on the

jar of clay that surrounds it. Remembering that will make all the difference.

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OVERHEARD FROM THE ATTICScripture Reading: 2 Corinthians 5:11-21; John 3:16-21

Often in these past few months I have wanted to gather us all up for a trip to Mitford, NorthCarolina. Although fictional, in title at least, it would be a nice place to go. The pace of life is a littlebit slower with no sort of flood recovery to deal with. This small town does a good job in taking careof its own. Of course, Mitford is not problem free. Father Tim, the 60 year old Episcopalian rector,has his enemies. In fact, Barnabas, the great big scripture heeding mutt that unexpectedly comesinto his life and he grows to love is kidnaped right in front of his eyes. Sin and abuse lie both withinand outside of the town. The surrounding hills are full of poverty and neglect - alcoholism and drugmarketing - hate and distrust.

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Yet, great things happen in Mitford. Time and time again the people rally around those inneed. Romance springs up in the lives of the young and the old, some who have never felt lovebefore. Faith is expressed simply and profoundly, saturated with prayer. People are changed, someof them in intense and unexpected ways.

Mitford would be a good place for us to be for awhile - a nice place to vacation. Our soulswould be done some real good.

Mitford has mysteries as well. Many strange events puzzled Father Tim in the months thatsurrounded Christmas. While inspecting the church flower beds he noticed ashes, like fireplaceashes, scattered in the flower bed. One noon he found his lunch bag missing from the churchrefrigerator, along with the communion wine. At a lay readers meeting Esther Bolicks famousorange marmalade cake was stolen out of the same refrigerator. Days later Father Tim decided toclean out the closet in the parish hall. It served as a columbarium housing six urns containing thecremated remains of deceased church members. As he dusted them he noticed the remains ofParrish Guthrie rattled differently - almost like pebbles. His curiosity got the best of him. He took itout to the kitchen and unscrewed the top. On to a tea towel he gently shook the contents. Instead ofashes and bits of bone, out came brightly cut gems. Having no idea what to do about it and worriedhow it might goof up an already hectic holiday season, he put it back to deal with it after Christmas.The same day Father Tim went into the sanctuary to pray. An agitated man knelt in the dark. Heshouted, If youre up there, prove it! Show me! If youre God, you can prove it. It was a prayer ofanger, despair and odd hope. Father Tim knelt beside him. You may be asking the wrong question.I believe the question you may want to ask is not, Are you up there? but, Are you down here?

A conversation ensued. It ended with the two praying as the shoe salesman asked Jesus intohis life Thank you, God, for loving me, and for sending your Son to die for my sins. I sincerelyrepent of my sins, and receive Christ as my personal savior. Now, as your child, I turn my entire life

over to you. Amen. (At Home in Mitford by Jan Karon, pp. 182-185)After the prayer the man was suddenly embarrassed. He shook Father Tims hand and tookoff.

Strange events continued. After Christmas it was time to deal with the urn full of jewelsFather Tim called the local policeman. But now the urn was empty. Later he discovered his Biblemissing. One day he walked into the sanctuary and smelled chicken soup coming from the attic

Access to the attic came from a fold down ladder right above and behind the pulpit area. Father Timpulled down the stairs. He found nothing except the wrapper of an Almond Joy candy bar, stilsmelling like fresh chocolate.

All of these mysterious happenings connected one Sunday morning during the worshipservice.

As he offered the prayer before the sermon, he heard a harsh, grating noise somewherebehind him in the sanctuary. When the prayer ended, he saw the entire congregation sitting withopen mouths and astonished faces, gazing toward the ceiling .... the attic stairs had been let down

and ... someone in bare feet was descending .... the man reached the floor and stood beside thealtar .... tall and thin, with a reddish beard and shoulder-length hair .... Yet, the single mostremarkable thing about the incident, the rector would later say, wasnt the circumstances of themans sudden appearance, but the unmistakable radiance of his face.

To make a beautiful, long scene shorter, the man told a story of his struggle with sin and God.Shortly before Thanksgiving he had come into possession of some stolen jewels. As he ran off toget away God got a hold of him. He ended up in Mitford not knowing what to do. Going into theEpiscopalian Church, he noticed saw the stairs into the attic and decided to live there until God toldhim what to do. He hid the jewels in one of the urns in the closet. He roamed the building when thechurch was empty to use the bathroom and find food.

He overheard the conversation between Father Tim and the shoe salesman. As he tells it,That was a real two-for-one deal, Father, because I prayed that prayer with you. You threw out theline for one, and God reeled in two. He confessed to stealing Father Tims Bible and continued, AsI read during the next few weeks, I began to find the most amazing peace. Even more amazing was

the intimacy I was finding with God one-on-one, moment by moment.... I come to you this morning,urging you to discover that intimacy, if you have not.I also come to you to thank you for your hospitality, and to say to whoever made that orange

cake that was the finest cake I ever ate in my life.With that George Gaynor asked that someone be called to take him into custody and with that

starts another story.This is not the last time Father Tim leads someone to Christ - for some the process is slow, for

others it is as dramatic as this. Father Tim considers it an important and natural part of his ministry -bringing people to come to know Jesus.

Believe it or not I was in a setting during the last year with other Christian folk, many of thempastors no less, where it was discussed whether or not talking with people about accepting JesusChrist into their lives is an appropriate dimension of our ministry. One pastor said and another

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agreed that their denominations did not believe in that sort of thing. I couldnt believe it. Didnt theyrealize they would not even be in business today if it hadnt been for the evangelistic sharing of theirforemothers and forefathers? Didnt they realize they wont be in business tomorrow if they dontrediscover it? Didnt they realize that the foundation of our New Testament is the life-changingpower of the gospel of Jesus Christ?

It is a Biblical theme that cannot be ignored unless one chooses to ignore the authority of theBible and the experience of life. In the New Testament the word salvation or derivations of theword saved are found 161 times, only one of the words used to describe the process of acceptingJesus Christ as Lord and Savior. One cant read the Bible without being brought face to face overand over again with the invitation to be saved - to be converted - to be born again - to be changed

inside out and outside in - to come to the truth. One cant read the Bible without being brought faceto face over and over again with the command to share that good news with others.And it is good news. We have found ourselves to be in places where have desperately felt

the need to change - where we have felt the need to be saved from ourselves; saved from the messwe have put ourselves in; saved from sickness, despair, loneliness; saved from the consequences ofour sins. Like the shoe salesmen we cry for God to show Himself to us. As we have come to Jesuswe have experienced the goodness of being forgiven, of being healed, of being set free from the guiltand power of our sins.

As we have experienced it ourselves we must never forget that we are surrounded by peoplewho are looking for God, who are desperately seeking salvation from the messes of their lives.Father Tim was wise enough to know what to do. He shared Jesus. This is our calling as well.

George Gaynor came to Christ as he overheard the conversation between Father Tim and theshoe salesman. Thats another good image to keep in mind. As the people on the outside over seeand over hear our life and conversation are they led towards Jesus or away from Jesus? (At Home in

Mitford, p. 265)As we read from 2 Corinthians 5:17 -- So if anyone is in Christ, there is a new creation:

everything old has passed away; see, everything has become new! All this is from God, whoreconciled us to himself through Christ, and has given us the ministry of reconciliation.

Jesus brings change and he invites us not only to enjoy it for ourselves but to pass on theopportunity. If we fail to offer Jesus to the world we are withholding from them the greatest gift evermade available. Do we not love our friends, our family, our world enough to want them to have thebest?

Thanks to a parishioners hospitality I spent a good majority of this week by myself at MapleLake. With my bike, my guitar, my Bible, my Mitford books I relaxed and was renewed. I especiallyenjoyed spending a lot of time in the water. It hasnt been until the last couple of years that I haveenjoyed swimming. I have often wondered why now all of a sudden. I came up with some reasonsthis week. One reason is I now have a little more fat surrounding my skinny bones so I dont get coldquite so easily. Probably closer to the truth, now I can see when I swim. I have been wearing

glasses, very thick glasses, for the past 35 years. It looked just a little too nerdy to wear glasses inthe pool or at the lake so whenever I went swimming I was virtually blind. About 15 years ago Ibegan wearing contact lenses but never felt comfortable with the risk of wearing them in the water.Within the last two years I discovered disposable contacts. Not only are they cheap but they are socomfortable I can wear them even swimming.

This is a primary reason why I enjoy swimming so much more. Water can be frighteningenough but when one cant see, at least for me, it was extremely uncomfortable. Now that I can see Iam no longer afraid of the water. I enjoy it.

Could that same principle be true of life? We are filled with discomfort and fears anduneasiness when we cannot see clearly. The eyes of our heart are closed. We are surrounded bydark. But when Jesus comes into our life and our eyes are opened to His light and love we lose thefear of living. Maybe that is what John Newton had in mind when he wrote Amazing Grace.

Amazing grace, how sweet the sound, that saved a wretch like me. I once was lost, but nowam found, was blind but now I see.

This is a message we need to experience. It is a message the world needs to hear.

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CONTROLLED BY THE WORDScripture Reading: 2 Timothy 3:10-4:5

.... [Father Tim] arrived at the office, uttering the prayer he had offered at its door everymorning for twelve years: Father, make me a blessing to someone today, through Christ our Lord.

Amen.As he took the key from his pocket, he felt something warm and disgustingly wet on his hand.

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He looked down into the face of a large, black, mud-caked dog, whose tail began to beatwildly agaist his pant leg.

Good grief! he said, wiping his hand on his windbreaker.At that, the dog leaped up and licked his face, sending a shower of saliva into his right ear.Get away! Be gone! He shouted. He tried to protect the notebook he was carrying, but the

dog gave it a proper licking before he could stuff it in his jacket, then tried to snatch it from him.He thought of running, but if anyone saw him fleeing before a shaggy, mud-caked dog,

everybody in town would know it within the half hour.Down! He commanded sharply, at which the dog leaped up and gave his chin a bath.

He tried to fend the animal off with his elbow, while inserting the key in the office door. If hewere a cussing man, he reasoned, this would offer a premier opportunity to indulge himself.Let no corrupt communication proceed out of your mouth," he quoted in a loud voice from

Ephesians, but that which is good to the use of edifying... Suddenly, the dog sat down and lookedat his prey with fond admiration.

Well, now, he said irritably, wiping the notebook on his sleeve. I hope youve got thatnonsense out of your system. At this, the dog leaped up, stood on its hind lets, and put its vastpaws on the rectors shoulders.

Father Tim! Father Tim! It was his part-time secretary, Emma Garrett.

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He stood helpless, his glasses fogged with a typhoon of moist exhalations.Whop! Emma laid a blow to the dogs head with her pocketbook. Then, blam, she hit him

again on the rear flank.And dont come back! she shouted, as the yelping dog fled into a hedge of rhododedron and

disappeared.Emma gave him her handkerchief, which was heavily scented with My Sin. That wasnt a

dog, she said with disgust, that was a Buick!The dog came back. It seemed to appear out of no where adopting Father Tim as his own.

Father Tim eventually reciprocated naming him Barnabas and taking him into his home and heart.

On one particular day Father Tim brought Barnabas to his office. He had been having a hardtime controlling him. He sat down and turned to his Gospel reading for Sunday. He prepared toread it out loud as was his custom.

Barnabas appeared to take that as a signal to stand by his masters chair and place his frontpaws on his shoulder, giving a generous lick to the Bible for good measure.

[Father Tim] had just read that ignoring negative behavior and praising the positive could be afruitful strategy....

And as Jesus passed by, intoned the rector, avoiding the doleful stare, he saw a manwhich was blind from his birth....

Barnabas sighed and lay down.He continued, without glancing into the corner.... He read aloud through verse five. Then, he

stopped and studied Barnabas with some concentration.Well, now," he said at last, this is extraordinary.Whats that? asked Emma, his secretary.

This dog appears to be..., he cleared his throat, ...ah, controlled by Scripture.No way! she said with disgust. That dog is not controlled by anything!Just then, the door opened, and Miss Sadie Baxter helped prove the odd suspicion.Before she could speak, Barnabas had bounded across the room to extend his finest greeting,

whereupon the rector shouted what came immediately to mind, and what Peter had told themultitude:

Repent and be baptized, every one of you!Barnabas sprawled on the floor and sighed with contentment.I was baptized, thank you, said Miss Sadie, removing her rain hat. (From At Home in Mitford

by Jan Karon, chapter 1)One of the more unique twists to the Mitford books is this dog Barnabas. Most amazing is the

heed he gives to scripture. Something happens to Barnabas when he hears scripture. A peacefulresignation comes over him and he mellows out.

I've never before used a dog as a role model in a sermon but Barnabas seems to be a fittingexample. Don't you think an great description for any of us as Christians might be - "she/he iscontrolled by scripture."

No time better than the present to experience something like that. In this time ofinconvenience and agitation, in these days when our patience is being tested and our future seemstentative and unknown we need something we can take like a medication of sorts that will quiet ourworries and settle our anxieties, that can anchor us and hold us, that will bring wisdom andconfidence to our decisions. As we feel out of control we need something to control us and center usand calm us down. To be controlled by the scriptures - that is what we need.

But how? It's obvious that in order to be controlled by the scriptures we have to interact withthe scriptures. There is no such thing as a Bible pill. We can't soak it up by putting on thenightstand or on the coffee table and expect it to radiate itself inside of us somehow.

It even takes more than simply reading it or taking Bible classes. We must allow ourselves tobe exposed to it and exposed by it. One person said, "What makes the difference is not how many

times you have been through the Bible, but how many times and how thoroughly the Bible has beenthrough you." I would add -- it has nothing to do with how many hours we spend scrutinizing theBible but how diligently we allow the Bible to scrutinize us.

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The Bible is a treasure. We need it far more than we know.A man was out walking in the desert when a voice said to him, "Pick up some pebbles and put

them in your pocket, and tomorrow you will be both sorry and glad."The man obeyed. He stooped down and picked up a handful of pebbles and put them in his

pocket. The next morning he reached into his pocket and found diamonds and rubies and emeralds.As the voice prophesied he was both glad and sorry. Glad that he had taken some -- sorry that hehadn't taken more. That is how it is with God's word.

You may have noticed that instead of entitling the sermon "Controlled by Scripture" I entitled it- "Controlled by the Word." I did it for a reason.

There is a difference between being controlled by the "word" (with small letters), synonymouswith the scriptures, and being controlled by the "WORD" (with big letters), synonymous with Jesus.You may remember that John describes Jesus in the beginning of his gospel like this: In thebeginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.

I know some people who are controlled by the word (small letters) who I wouldn't want toemulate and I don't think God would want us to emulate either. In fact, one of the greatest strugglesJesus had during his ministry was dealing with people who were controlled by the word. ThePharisees were a case in point. They lived by the law and to make sure they were living by the lawthey fine tuned it by adding amendments and addendums, making it as black and white as possible.They were bound up. They had lost the reason for it all. In their quest to love the law they lost theirlove for God and for the people God had put into their lives. When Jesus healed on the Sabbaththey were aghast. Jesus couldn't understand why on this day set aside for the LORD mercy andhealing for God's children wouldn't be a part of it.

I know people who are controlled by the word - controlled by the scriptures - and it is not apretty sight. The gospel which sets the hearts of men and women free is replaced by a religion thatsays "you better not do this and you can't do that and better not go there and you shouldn't look likethat." Their hearts are as cold as stone. Their faces look like they have been sucking lemons formost of their lives. Their world is only big enough for them and Jesus and nobody else becausenobody else is good enough or worthy enough.

But to be controlled by the WORD (big letters) - to be controlled by Jesus - is an entirelydifferent matter. As the hymn says, "Make me a captive, Lord, and then I shall be free." To becontrolled by the WORD means no longer being motivated by "thou shalt not" but being motivated by"you shall" and "fear not" and "you are forgiven, go and sin no more" and "you will receive power."Guilt and fear is replaced by love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness,gentleness, self-control, grace and mercy.

To be controlled by the Word, we must give ourselves to the WORD.An old National Geographic magazine tells about Carl Sharsmith, an 81 year old guide in

Yosemite National Park. "Carl was back at his tent quarters after a long afternoon with tourists. Hisnose was flaked white and red with sunburn; his eyes were watery, partly from age but also fromhearing again an old question after a half century of summers in California's Yosemite National Park.

A lady tourist had hit him with a question where it hurt: "I've only got an hour to spend at Yosemite,"she declared. "What should I do? Where should I go?" The old naturalist -interpreter-ranger finallyfound voice to reply. "Ah, lady, only an hour." He repeated it slowly. "I suppose that if I had only anhour to spend at Yosemite, I'd just walk over there by the river and sit down and cry."

The WORD of God has so much to offer us. What a tragedy to give Him a moment here anda moment there, a quick read here and a short prayer there.

We are offered so much more. May we not settle for so much less.

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UNEXPECTED VISITORScripture Reading: Romans 12:9-21

Andy, Betty, Christopher, Doris, Elmo, Franzi, Gust, and Hannah do you recognize thesevisitors who unexpectedly showed up in our community? Do any of you claim responsibility forinviting them? The flood is another visitor we could have done without.

It reminds me of a visitor Father Tim had.I dont know what happened the first 60 years of Father Tims life but for some reason now all

of a sudden his life is full of unexpected visitors - a big black dog, a young teenage red headed boy

from the hills named Dooley, a new next door neighbor named Cynthia, a rough and angry buildingforeman named Buck Leeper.One of the more interesting is an invited, unexpected and a quickly unwelcome visitor - a

cousin actually - by the name of Meg Patrick. Father Tim had finally taken a vacation to Ireland withsome American relatives. Some time after arriving home in Mitford he received the following letter.

Dear Cousin Timothy,It was lovely to meet you at Erin Donavans tea. I had heard for years of the Cousin Tim who

was a priest in America and never dreamed we might tip a glass together. I found you terribly cleverand charming and so like Great-aunt Fiona that I could scarcely tell the difference except for yourtrousers.

My scheme is to see your country, as you have seen mine, and to settle for a bit among thepeople.

I was sweet of you to suggest that I come round whenever Im in America.Yours very truly,

Meg PatrickHe didnt remember meeting any cousin Meg but there were a lot of people to remember.

Anyway, it was nice to have the connection. If only he knew what lay ahead.Some two months later the doorbell rang. He didnt recognize the tall red-haired woman

flanked by suitcases, squinting at him through heavy bifocals. He thought her eyes looked like themagnified eyes of a housefly that hed seen on the cover of a natural-science book. She introducedherself as Cousin Meg.

He should have known he was in trouble when she asked him for a twenty for the taxi driverBut the best was yet to come. Cousin Meg was eccentric. After being shown to the guest room shestayed put. She said she was working on a book. Nobody saw her much. Only when Father Timinsisted - did she come out and eat with the rest of the household. The only evidence she wasaround was the pounding of a typewriter which she apparently had placed on the wood floor. FatherTim was not impressed but what could he do. She was a relative after all. (This story comes fromA Light in the Window by Jan Karon)

Thats the thing about visitors. Some are unexpected. Some are longed for most expectantly.Some are invited. Some come uninvited. Some are welcome. Some are unwelcome. Some wewish would stay forever. Others cant leave soon enough.

Thats the problem with hospitality. If we choose to be hospitable who knows to whom or towhat we will open ourselves.

Whatever the risk, hospitality is a virtue to be sought after. In our scripture reading we heardthese words - extend hospitality to strangers. It is a theme repeated often in the Bible. Actually itwas a custom woven into the very fabric of life in that area of the world. In most religions andsocieties hospitality was considered a sacred duty. In the New Testament we find that hospitalitywas a major criteria in the qualifications of a church leader. Hospitality was also a necessaryqualification for any widow who wished to receive help and support from the church.

Now more than ever we should be much more aware of the importance of hospitality. It wasntlong ago that many of us were evacuees - refugees of sorts - and persons, some unknown to us,opened their homes and facilities and their hearts to us. It seems like a long time ago now and some

of it has been dampened by all that has happened since but we cant forget.

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For some of us -- if we hadnt thought about being hospitable before -- we are now looking atit in a different way. I think of all the different people who have stayed in our home and in a trailer inour driveway and here at the church since the flood. I would be the first to admit it has complicatedlife but how can that even begin to compare with the blessings some of these persons have broughtinto my life? I am not alone. I know of others of you whose lives have been greatly touched by theseunexpected visitors into your own homes.

Yes, hospitality may bring in some visitors that we wish had never showed up, but the risk ofmissing out on some great and fantastic blessings should convince us all of the importance ofopening up our lives to others. The author of Hebrews writes, Do not neglect to show hospitality tostrangers, for by doing that some have entertained angels without knowing it. (Hebrews 13:2)

Before the flood it was so easy to be in complete control of whom we would allow into ourlives. In Gods great mercy some of that control has been taken away from us and we have openedourselves to treasures and wonders we would never have experienced otherwise. I have said itbefore and I will say it again, we can not return too quickly to life before the flood. It was notnecessarily a better life.

Before we become self-serving in our hospitality let us temper that with a reminder thathospitality is a ministry - a ministry to which we have been called as individuals and as a church. Weare called to open ourselves up to any and all that God brings our way.

An old legend says that one day Abraham was standing by his tent door when he saw an oldman coming along the way, weary with his journey and with bleeding feet. With true hospitality heinvited the old man to share his meal and to lodge with him for the night. Abraham noticed that heasked no blessing on the meal and inquired why he did not pray to the God of Heaven. The old mansaid, "I am a fire worshiper and acknowledge no other god." At this, Abraham grew angry and senthim from his tent. Then God called Abraham and asked, "Where is the old man? I have cared for

him for over a hundred years even though he has dishonored me. Could you not endure him onenight and so prove to him God's love?"To be given to hospitality as we heard in our scripture reading means, literally, to pursue

strangers with love. This is a calling for Zion United Methodist Church.Lets take it even further. Hospitality deals with much more than just people. Being hospitable

means having an open mind. Being hospitable means being receptive to new thoughts and ideasBeing hospitable means being favorable to growth and development. Just as we can be pleasantlysurprised by opening ourselves up to unexpected and never met before guests, we can be blessedby allowing ourselves to entertain new thoughts and ideas.

Again, this flood has forced us to do this in ways we never would have experienced without it.Before the flood we had the luxury to resist change in order to maintain life as it was but now life willnever be the same. It has all changed -- much of it to which we can never go back. May we behospitable to the future. It may be better than ever.

Most important -- and this will protect us in our openness to what is new -- being hospitable

deals with an openness to Jesus Christ and the movement of His Spirit in our lives.One of the saddest portions of scriptures is found in the opening words of Johns gospel. He

begins by reminding us that it is through Jesus, the Word, that the world and we who are in it havebeen created. He goes on to tell us that as Jesus came into this world the world did not know him.John writes, He came to what was his own, and his own people did not accept him.

How hospitable are we to Jesus? Jesus stands at the door of our hearts and knocks. Do wehear it? Have we opened the door?

We open the door. We ask Jesus into our life. He comes in. Where is he now? Is hestanding just inside the entryway by himself while we are off doing our own thing?

Just how comfortable have we made Jesus in our home? Have we given him access to all therooms? Is he allowed to read our books or watch our videos? Does he get to eat with us? Are wepaying attention to him?

The old gospel hymn says O what peace we often forfeit, o what needless pain we bear,all because we do not carry everything to God in prayer.

We can receive no greater guest than Jesus. Just what are we missing out on when we arenthospitable to him?

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I want us to close by singing another old song - a song I remember from Sunday School.We sang it every Sunday during our opening exercises. As we sing it may we sing it as aninvitation to Jesus to be a part of our lives in a new way.

Into my heart, into my heart,Come into my heart, Lord Jesus.Come in today, Come in to stay.

Come into my heart, Lord Jesus.~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

HOMELESSScripture Reading: Hebrews 11:8-16

In our wildest imagination we would not dream of homelessness in our own community.Of course we have always had the homeless. For them we have the Grand Forks Mission.Besides they are a little different. They are a them surely not a part of us. But now - as of

April 18 - when we talk about homeless we talk about us friends and neighbors -- us,ourselves. We were homeless. Some of us are still homeless.

A central character in the Mitford books is Homeless Hobbes. His actual name is SamuelK. Hobbes. We meet him as Father Tim makes his way along the creek to a ramshackle house,delivering the annual Thanksgiving basket from the Episcopalians. It appears that Samuel K.Hobbes is the towns token destitute. Upon entering the shack Father Tim noticesrepresentation from every church denomination, each with a basket to deliver.

Homeless moved nimbly on his battered crutch, pouring coffee for every guest.You could use another chair in this place, suggested a Methodist deacon who was

standing in a corner.Nossir, I couldnt, said Homeless, setting the empty pot on a shelf. Mr. Thoreau himself

had two and often regretted it. Fact is, m two pairs of pants is one too many.After taking inventory of all the food that had been brought for him Homeless replies,

Well, boys, much as I preciate all this, Ive got to tell you the gospel truth .... Im goin to givethe best portion of these eats to folks whore worse off than me.

Weeks later, Father Tim makes another call to Homeless. This time Homeless is in hisshorts.

Youre visitin a man s plain, hes settin here with no britches on. One pair is hangin onthe closeline, and I give th other pair away. Fella lives up th creek yonder was too ragged tlookfor work, so I steped out of m pants, an he put em on and headed to town....

Still later Homeless receives a reward for finding and returning Father Tims stolen dog. Itwas a substantial amount - more than $2500 put up by friends in the community. He declaresthat he will not be taking the reward:

Up on the hill behind th creek is a lot of folks who need it worsen I do. Theres little bittybabies in there that dont get fed right, an old people that needs medicine and a hot meal.Theyre people that slip through th cracks, somehow or nother. Id like t see that money go inan emergency fund t help the ones that need it th most.

Give ol Fred money t buy is own britches instead of wearin min to look fr work. Buythat little ol Pritchard baby something t wear, instead of it runnin around naked. Get ol womanHarmon a pair of shoes, shes been half-barefooted fr two winters. Maybe have a free supperonce a week, Ill do th cookin.

Homeless Hobbes attitude is a sermon in itself. We need to be more like Homeless,getting by with less, sharing more of what we do have with others.But we wont stop there because there is so much more to the story. At the very least we

need to explain how Samuel K. Hobbes became Homeless Hobbes.Earlier when Father Tim comments on his plain life Homeless explains that sometimes

one has to gag on fancy before one can appreciate plain. He goes on to explain his life as anadvertising account man living a very fancy life, talking very fancy talk. There he met alcohol.Everything went wrong. He was drunk for 30 years - appearing successful but half-shot thewhole time.

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I lost three wives, nine jobs, four houses, two kids and one foot. Th only thing I didntlose was m self-respect, and thats because I didnt have any....You might say I did everything Icould to earn th name Homeless and live up to it. And now that things are diffrent and Ive beensober for nine years, I dont try to dodge m name. It reminds me of what I was. Homeless!Sick! Slobber in th gutter.

We also find out that Samuel Hobbes nickname is appropriate for more than one reason.Somewhere along the line he had lost a spiritual home and in spite of a great attitude toward lifeand servanthood he struggles with his spiritual homelessness.

Father Tim asks him to describe his relationship to God.We talk, said Homeless. Were definitely on speakin terms. Im no all-out pagan, by a

long shot. I was raised in th church, and baptized as a boy. But theres somethin lackin and Idont know what it is. Its like somethins itchin me, wont let me be. I caint name it, and t tellyou th truth, I dont want to think about it.

As is evident with most of the main characters in the Mitford books God is at work in theirlives and they are changed. Homeless is no exception.

As Homeless returns Father Tims lost dog Father Tim thanks him You know, youvebrought me something I thought Id never find again.

That brings me to m own point, said Homeless. Somethin I lost has been found, too.And whats that? asked the rector, leaning against the sink.My faith. It looks like its come back. An t tell th truth, its a whole lot stronger than it

was when it left.... I took down th New Testament you brought me, an I said, I blieve Ill just

crack this open fr a minute I knew I didnt want t go gettin no religion out of it, nossir.So I baited me a hook and I put it on my fishin line and went n sat on th creek bank....an I commenced t read, , and first thing you know, I was dead into it.... I [fished] all day, and bythe time Id fried me some fish and eat a good dinner, it come to me plain as day that m faithwas back. God Almighty had put his hand on me again after all these years....

I figure what can y lose? Jesus said, Verily, I say unto you, he that believeth on me hatheverlasting life.... Well sir, what if thats a lie? If its a lie, then you live in sin, and die in sin, andthe worms consume yr flesh, anyway. But if its th Gods truth, like he says it is, you win. Yrsins are forgiven, you get a clean start, and when you die, you live for eternity.... It seems t methats a deal a man caint pass up. Number one, its free. Number two, you caint lose it.Homeless grinned happily. Its a good feelin. Kind of like Ive found a home.

Homeless Hobbes came home. Homeless Hobbes came home.Deep, deep, deep within us lies a longing - a calling - a yearning - for a home that can not

be built with two by fours and sheetrock, a home that can not be moved off of its foundation by

the rushing Red River, a home that can not be filled with muddy, dirty water, a home that cannotbe appraised, or condemned or bought out or smashed to pieces by a front end loader.As we have been forced to look at our houses in ways never before anticipated we also

refocus on our homes. Mother Nature may take away our houses but only we can let go of ourhomes - be it our relationships with family, friends, or ourselves -- most important the spiritualhome for which each of us longs.

Our desire to create and nurture and preserve an earthly home is only a symbol of agreater longing that is satisfied when we seek and experience our home with God. It is not anearthly home created by us but a spiritual home built for us by the nail scarred hands of Jesus.

It is only this home made for us that brings internal and eternal fulfillment. It is only thishome in which we will ever feel really at home. It is only this home which can not be touched byfire and flood, divorce and death. It is only in this home that we will find what we need to handlerightly our earthly home.

This home built by God is the only home to which we are called to cling with all our might.

We must not hold too tightly to the safe and familiar. In fact we will not be able to find ourspiritual home if we stay too close to what can be seen, heard and felt.In our scripture reading Abraham left what was familiar when called by God. He did not

have the slightest idea where he was going. When he got to where he was going he lived as asojourner. After responding to God he never had a permanent place again. He lived in a tent. Itdidnt matter. We read he was looking forward to the city with foundations, whose architect andbuilder is God.

The writer of Hebrews goes on to say that the old Testament saints admitted they werealiens and strangers on earth. They were longing for a better country - a heavenly one.

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May we not get so caught up with our houses that we forget about our home. May we notget so caught up with our earthly home that we pay no attention to the home whose architect andbuilder is God.

I am always amazed to stand at the side of someone whose earthly life is nearing its endand hear them talk about going home - not home on 19 th street but home to be with Jesus.Where does that come from? While house or apartment and family and friends were at onetime very important their attention shifts in another direction. Is it possible that as they comeface to face with the infirmity and frailty of their earthly home they sense in a way never before

the reality of their heavenly home?Because of this flood you and I have come face to face in a way never before with the

frailty and impermanence of our earthly homes. We must and we will rebuild them. Yet, even inrestoration we can only take them back for a little while longer. Three years from now, 27 yearsfrom now, 68 years from now we will have to let them go. When that moment comes, when wemust leave it all behind, may we not be found to be homeless. Instead, may we find ourselves ina new home - a home built for us by God - a home towards which we travel even today.

Through many dangers, toils and snares, I have already come; tis grace hath brought mesafe thus far, and grace will lead me home.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

KEEPING THE HEDGE OPEN

Scripture Reading: Ephesians 2:8-22Father Tim had lived by himself for 60 years. Sure -- he could have been happier. And --

he could have had a little more fun. But -- he was comfortable. Into this life of satisfactioncomes a big dog - Barnabas: a fiery house keeper - Puny; and a 11 year old freckle face boy -Dooley. This is only the beginning. Far more profound and impacting is the appearance of anew next door neighbor, not much younger than him and as the town people warn him -- "withvery nice legs."

Here is how Father Tim and Cynthia Coppersmith meet (Barnabas, the dog, has just takenoff after an unfamiliar cat):

Barnabas stood at the foot of the tree, his thick fur bristling, filling the night with a barkthat seemed to carry to the monument and echo back along the storefronts.

(If you remember a previous sermon, this dog is controlled by scripture) Father Timbegins --

"Be filled with the spirit!" he shouted. "Speak to one another in psalms, hymns, andspiritual songs!" He never knew which scripture would float to the surface in such emergencies."I'll fill you with the spirit!" a voice announced. Suddenly, the beam of a flashlight shone

directly into his eyes. "What are you doing in my hedge?""I'm trying to retrieve my dog from this yard, what else would I be doing?""I haven't the faintest idea," the voice said coldly. "Come, then, and get this beast at

once."The flashlight beam was removed from his eyes and, though he found himself

momentarily blinded, he proceeded to shout a thundering verse from Jeremiah.Barnabas crashed obediently through the rhododendron, and sat trembling at this

master's feet. Father Tim grabbed him roughly by the collar."I'm very sorry, and I apologize," he stated to the hedge, still unable to see who had

spoken.The new neighbor Mule Skinner had promised finally moved into the realm of her porch

light, dress in a robe and pajamas, and carrying a flashlight that she had mercifully put on lowbeam.

"Is this going to be the usual behavior of your...dog?" She said the word with a tinge ofloathing.

"Quite possibly, if your cat continues to tear through our yard, dispensing with any shredof caution."

There was an uncomfortable silence.Then the woman laughed and extended her hand though a bare spot in the foliage."Cynthia Coppersmith," she said, "and you must be Father Tim."

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"I am. And I'm sorry we've given you such a poor welcome. I promise to make it up."Her hand felt as small as a child's, and warm.

"There's no need," she said. "I'm sorry, too. Nerves, you know. Nothing has gone rightwith this move! Violet is all nerves herself. You know, cats don't like moving, and I saw this manin my hedge, and Violet up a tree, and a dog the size of my refrigerator, and well..."

"I got off lightly, then.""Yes! You did!"

So begins the relationship between Father Tim--the 60 year old, bachelor, Episcopalianrector and Cynthia--the kind, optimistic writer of children's books who seems to love just abouteverything. By the third book of this series of books Father Tim and Cynthia are husband andwife.

It is quite a romance -- surely not for the faint-hearted. Father Tim just can't seem to gethis act together. Many tense moments are experienced when it seems like this relationshipmade in heaven will never come together.

One of tangible images that gives indication to the health of their relationship is the hedgethat stands between the two homes. The first time the importance of the hedge is mentioned isin a conversation quite some time after Cynthia asks Father Tim if he is interested in goingsteady. He has had a hard time deciding. He explains, "I won't try to kid you. I honestly don'tknow what I want to do. All I know is that I want the decision to be right and good. If I wereyounger, it would be an easier decision. But I've been so one-track minded, for so long, that Idon't know if I can run on two tracks without causing a collision."

Cynthia responds: At first .... I was hurt that you didn't answer right away. But I think I'vecome to understand you better just recently, and I feel good about what you're saying. Yet,there's something in me that says, you fool, you've been pushy and presumptuous, he doesn'tcare for you any more than all the other people he's so lovely to, and you'll frighten him off if youdon't back away, and then ... and then the path through the hedge will grow over ...

The path through the hedge will grow over.Hadn't she been the one with the courage to blaze that path in the first place?He took her into his arms and held her close, and kissed her hair. They were silent for a

time.... "We must not let the path through the hedge grow over, " he said with feeling.As the story develops throughout the ensuing months the hedge does grow over from time

to time. All kinds of things happen to make the hedge between them an almost formidable wall --misunderstanding, jealousy, mistrust, unwillingness to change, unwillingness to be honest, fear,poor self-esteem.

All of these shortcomings are the same bricks that build the walls and keep up the walls

we find standing between ourselves and others and -- between ourselves and God.Last year the theme for Promise Keepers was "Let the Walls Fall Down." We sang thetheme song earlier this morning. We who attended were challenged to allow God to take downthe walls that stand between ourselves and others because of race and denomination -- to takedown the walls that stand between ourselves and our spouse and our parents and our children --to take down the wall that separates us from God. After all, Jesus is in the business of takingdown walls.

As Jesus gave up his spirit on the cross the gospel writers tell us the curtain of the templewas torn in two from top to bottom. Later reflection in the New Testament ties Jesus work withthe removal of any separation that stands between God and human beings. In our scripturereading this morning we heard (Ephesians 2:14) -- For he is our peace; in his flesh he has madeboth groups into one and has broken down the dividing wall, that is, the hostility between us.Paul is talking not only about the removal of the wall between us and God but the wall thatstands between the Jews and the Gentiles. He extends the list even further in Galatians 3:28

... There is no longer Jew or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male andfemale; for all of you are one in Christ Jesus. Jesus tears down the walls that separate us onefrom another.

A couple of thoughts about walls:Think of the walls that went down as the dikes went up, as we labored together filling

sandbags. Neighbors became neighbors. Think of the walls that went down as the dikes gaveway as we made our way to the evacuation centers as we stood in line for porta-potties,cleaning kits, Red Cross meals, the mail. The walls between neighborhoods, communities, whitecollar workers-blue collar workers, east side-west side, north-south were gone. We were all thesame.

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A few weeks ago I signed my name to the charter of VICTORY - Valley Interfaith CoalitionTO RecoverY. This interfaith coalition is dedicated to the long term spiritual, emotional andphysical recovery of the upper Red River Valley. We have two ministerial groups in Grand Forks one for the evangelical churches, one for the more mainline denominations. With the floodand its recovery these two groups have come together to work together for the first time since atleast I have been here. Ive been told of the possibility that this interfaith movement might be themost all-encompassing ecumenical recovery movement in the history of the United States.

Think of the walls that are going up as we live through this recovery. We are being told

that as this recovery period lingers the potential exists for walls to go up that will be evidencedby increased heart attacks and strokes, increased depression and suicide, increased divorceand family stress, increased impatience against those who should know how to solve ourproblems for us, increased anger between those who have and those who havent. We can't letthat happen. An article in Fridays Herald by Robin Silverman referred to that. She pleaded withus not to let this flood take away our dignity and kindness as we look for others to blame for ourfrustration.

Do you know what if feels like when the walls in your life get closer and closer and tallerand taller? -- suffocating, dark, restrictive, anxiety producing, paralyzing, overwhelming.

Let me ask it this way? Did you notice how much bigger your basement seemed after thewalls were taken down? I sure have been amazed at the size of the lower level of our church.When I stand down in our basement and look from one end to the other and one side to theother I see a much bigger area. I see new opportunities and new possibilities. I can see afuture.

Let us take down the walls. Let us set our hearts free to love and to live. Let us set ourhearts free to dream and hope. Because of Jesus love, through Jesus love, with Jesus love, byJesus love let the walls fall down.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A SINNERS PRAYERScripture Reading: Romans 3:9-26; Mark 2:1-12

A preacher, known for his simple yet forceful preaching style, was preaching on the text,Unless you repent, you will all perish.

Just as he was hitting the climax of his sermon, a large fly landed next to him on thepulpit. He pinned the fly down with his finger. Yes, my friends, unless you repent you will surely

perish... just as surely as I will flatten this poor fly.Before the preacher could squash the fly it got away. So thinking fast, he exclaimed, Myfriends, you still have a chance.

Through the gospel we learn that when it comes to our relationship with God and Godsjudgement of us, God gives us another chance it is called grace. Although we dont deserveit; although weve proven to God we are unable and unwilling to remain sinless; God graces uswith the gift of another chance.

This second chance does not come cheaply. God does not close His eyes and pretendthat none of our sinning ever happened. Somehow our relationship with God must be reconciled- a payment of some sort must be made. We heard again in the scripture reading that Jesustransacted a redemption. We cant begin to understand all the whys and hows, but we are toldJesus died in judgement for our sins so that we could be given another chance.

You may have noticed that most of my sermons this summer have centered in on thistheme. It is a theme of the Mitford books people being given a second chance people

turning their lives around. It is a foundational message of the Christian faith. One cannot readthrough the Bible without seeing that theme repeated over and over again - even in the OldTestament.

This morning we will focus on three words that describe and explain how we can takeadvantage of another chance with God -- repentance, forgiveness and freedom.

John the Baptist began his ministry preaching, Repent, for the kingdom of heaven isnear. Jesus began his ministry with the same central message, The time has come. Thekingdom of God is near. Repent and believe the good news! When the church was born atPentecost, the early preachers preached, Repent and be baptized, everyone of you in the nameof Jesus Christ so that you sins may be forgiven.

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Repentance is crucial. It is the part we must play in restoring our relationship to God.Whether a saintly person or a sinner of sinners -- whether we have grown up in the church or wehave never set foot in the church -- all of us somewhere along the line must make a consciousdecision to repent. It is more than just saying Im sorry. It is consciously acknowledging thatwe have not always chosen Gods way, that we need to be forgiven by God, and that we arewilling with His help to change our ways. The experience of repentance may be a simple andquiet acknowledgment or an emotional, earth shaking experience but it needs to be done.

This is our part we realize the situation, see the need, and desire a change.

When Randy Maddox was here last fall he used the image of a dance to explain whatgoes on between us and God. God begins the dance by offering us the grace which enables usto come to God in the first place. We then take the next step - a step of repentance.

Now it is Gods turn to take another step. God forgives us. This forgiveness is a dynamicforgiveness. The forgiveness erases our bad record and removes our guilt. We can be forgiven,but it is a whole other matter to have the guilt removed. A friend who we have hurt may tell uswe are forgiven and yet never let us forget we were guilty. We may forgive ourselves concerningsome sin but down deep we still bear the sign marked guilty.

Most of us carry around too much guilt -- guilt from past actions and past thoughts; guiltfrom things made public; guilt over those things that no one else knows about but eats us upinside. Guilt is a devastating burden to carry around. It reeks havoc, externally and internally.

In 1983 Peter Reynhardt, of Chester England went to answer his door knowing that hehad finally been caught. 20 years before his wife had disappeared. The police could not provethe guilt of the suspected husband. Now, workers digging in a peat bog behind his home,accidentally discovered a human skull. When Mr. Reynhardt heard about it he immediatelyconfessed to everything. He couldnt live with it anymore. He was guilty; he was caught at last.Not until the trail was well underway did laboratory tests show that the skull was not Mrs.Reynhardts, but instead they had uncovered the skull of a woman 1600 years old.

Peter Reynhardt might have gotten away with it but the guilt never allowed him to forget.Maybe not as horrendous or violent, many of us have skulls buried back in the swamp

somewhere. Some start small. Some were committed in a moment of weakness. Now the guiltover these things eats away at us. We become paranoid. What if someone finds out what Imreally like? What if Im caught? We become closed and afraid. We read innocent conversationsas indictments against us. What do they mean by that statement? Do they know? Have theyfound out?

Often the skulls are not so hidden. Through our actions and mistakes someone has beenhurt, damage has been done, good things have been torn apart. Marks are made that cant beerased. We are sorry, we may have even been forgiven by our peers and those we have hurt,but that guilt follows us everywhere.

So what do we do? We must look outside of ourselves for the answer.In Sidney, Australia a desperate prisoner escaped. He hid under a delivery truck

frantically clinging to the frame. After what seemed like an eternity the truck stopped, theprisoner dropped down and rolled out to his new found freedom. He found himself in thecourtyard of another prison 5 miles away from the first.

All of our own efforts to rid ourselves of the guilt accomplish about as much. We onlymove ourselves from one prison to another. Whether we try to do it by running away from ourfamily or our faith or we run to alcohol or drugs we will not find release on our own.

Only in Jesus Christ can we receive a forgiveness that removes all guilt. When Jesus toldthe paralytic who had been lowered through the roof his sins were forgiven, Jesus not onlydemonstrated his ability to forgive, he showed the power of that forgiveness. The man was ableto stand up from the mat he had been laying on for so many years and walk home.

Jesus cannot change what has happened and the marks it may have left in other peopleand on other things but he can forgive us, empowering us to leave it behind and start over clean.Gods promise to us, because of Christ, is that no matter how far we have fallen, no matter howmany promises we have broken and trusts we have betrayed, we will be forgiven and we canbegin again.

Our third word is freedom. When God gives us another chance he sets us free. As withforgivenss it is dynamic. This freedom empowers us over the habits and flaws and temptationsthat got us into trouble in the first place.

Jesus says to his followers in the gospel of John, If the Son therefore sets you free, youwill be free indeed. In the same gospel he saves the life of a woman who is about to be stonedfor committing adultery. He says, Neither do I condemn you; Go, sin no more. The woman not

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only was forgiven but Jesus empowered her to live a new life free from sin. We can experiencethe same.

Paul writes in 2 Corinthians 5:17, If anyone be in Christ, he or she is a new creature; theold has passed, behold all things have become new.

Louise Fletcher wrote:

I wish there were some wonderful placeCalled the Land of Beginning AgainWhere all our mistakes and all our heartaches

And all of our poor selfish griefCould be dropped like a shabby old coat at the door,

And never be put on again.

It doesnt have to be a wish. By turning to Jesus Christ we can receive another chanceand the power to succeed in it.

J.C. [newspaper editor reading letter he had received] cleared his throat. Dear Editor,What exactly was the prayer the preacher prayed when the man in the attic got saved? Mydaddy wants to know, and I do too. Thank you.

[Father Tim responds] Do you want me to write it down and drop it by, or just tell you onthe phone?

Phones fine, said J.C., breathing heavily into the receiver.Well, then. Here it is. Thank you, God, for loving me, and for sending your Son to die for

my sins...Got it, said J.C.I repent of my sins and receive Jesus Christ as my personal savior.Got it.And now, as your child...As your what?As your child.Got it.I turn my entire life over to you. Amen.Whats the big deal with this prayer? It looks like some little ol Sunday school thing to

me. Its too simple.Its the very soul of simplicity. Yet, it can transform a life completely when its prayed with

the right spirit.I was looking for something with a little more pizzazz.My friend, the one who prays that prayer and means it will get all the pizzazz he can

handle. (P . 322, At Home in Mitford)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

THE PRAYER THAT NEVER FAILSScripture Reading: Matthew 26:31-46

Not many of the characters in the Mitford books lack interest, such as Buck Leeper. BuckLeeper would have never showed up in town if not for Miss Sadie. Miss Sadie took away thecollective breath of the Lords Chapel church when she announced to them a gift of $5,000,000-- a gift for the purpose of building a nursing home -- not just any nursing home -- a home withbig, sunny rooms and a greenhouse and an atrium with real, live birds and filled with books andmusic and a chapel and a goldfish pond and a waterfall running over the rocks in the diningroom.

It was quite a gift and quite a project. The selected construction company saw theimmensity and importance of the project and selected for job superintendent the best they had Buck Leeper. Buck Leeper would save them money and grief. He would bring the project tocompletion on time and on budget.

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However, Buck would come with a dark side. He was crude. He was unfriendly. Hecussed and drank intolerably. He carried around with him a dark secret that colored his outlookon life and people. Even Father Tim felt the ravage of this man. It was almost as if he had it infor preachers.

Most interesting is a connection between Father Tim and Buck Leeper. In a conversationit is discovered that both men had Baptist preachers for granddaddies, both men had troublegetting along with their fathers, and both men grew up in Mississippi, only 40 miles apart fromone another.

Their commonality did not decrease the tension. It climaxed one evening as Father Timmade his way to Bucks trailer to make an apology. Father Tims negligence had inadvertentlycause an accident on the building site.

Buck Leeper comes to the door drunk. As a conversation ensues Buck explodes into aviolent storm of weeping, cursing and throwing furniture. It ends when Buck runs out of energyand falls asleep on the couch.

Everything seems to take a different turn after that violent evening. By the fourth bookBuck has changed significantly, even forming positive relationships with some of the Mitfordpeople. However, he has not been able to deal with his problem with alcohol. Father Timconfronts him. Buck Leeper takes off.

I cant expose the resolution until I expose another thread that runs through the fourthbook. It is the basis for this sermon. Often throughout the fourth book, at critical times, FatherTim and his new wife Cynthia talk about the need to pray and in particular to pray what they referto as the prayer that never fails. Not once do they reveal what that prayer might be until nearlythe end when Buck shows up on Father Tims doorstep following his run from the subject ofalcoholism.

[Buck] was shaking ... and closed his eyes. Father Tim could see a muscle flexing in hisjaw.

God amighty, said Buck.Father Tim looked at him, praying. The man who had controlled some of the biggest

construction jobs in the Southeast and some of the most powerful machinery in the businesscouldnt, at this moment, control the shaking.

I pulled into an Arbys parkin lot and sat in the car and tried to pray. The only thing thatcame was somethin Id heard all those years in my grandaddys church. Buck looked into thefire. I said, Thy will be done.

Thats the prayer that never fails. (pp. 336-337, Out to Canaan by Jan Karon)Buck went on to ask Jesus into his life by praying the Sinners Prayer we talked about last

week. What I want for us to hear today however is the revelation of the prayer that never fails,Thy will be done.Several years ago I stopped using the phrase thy will be done in my prayers. Someone

who I respected told me prayers ending with that phrase showed a lack of faith. They believedthat in order to get ones prayers answered one had to be totally resolute in the request. To say,God, you know whats best -- You make the final decision showed uncertainty and God wouldnot answer that kind of prayer. So I stopped praying that way.

However, I never felt comfortable with it. I kept thinking about a certain person who usedthat phrase in his prayer, a person who held quite a bit of authority in my faith. On a dark, lonelynight this person was kneeling in a small garden. The future looked foreboding. In an agonizingprayer he prayed, Abba, Father, everything is possible for you. Take this cup from me. Thenhe must have paused before breathing out the words, Yet not what I will, but what you will. Thywill be done.

Jesus was only hours away from the crucifixion. Kneeling in the Garden of Gethsemane

he knew he had to make one final choice of whether or not to follow the path along which he hadbeen sent to travel. He chose his Gods way. Jesus was practicing what he had preached.Earlier in his ministry when asked by his disciples how to pray, he taught them a prayer, OurFather, who art in heaven, hallowed by thy name. Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earthas it its in heaven.

It was not an easy thing for Jesus to pray and its consequences were even more difficult.This prayer spoken on Thursday evening caused Jesus to experience the events on Friday -questioned, ridiculed, persecuted and finally put to death on the cross. As Jesus walked throughand lived through each of those horrible moments of that day Im sure again and again heprayed, Thy will be done, God thy will be done.

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Can you imagine what might have happened if those four words had not been a part ofJesus prayer? no crucifixion, no forgiveness of sins; no resurrection, no new life.

Jesus prayer, Thy will be done was not a prayer of uncertainty or faithlessness. He mayhave been uncertain of his own willingness to go through with it. He prayed, Father, if it ispossible, let this cup pass from me. But he was certain of God. Jesus had extreme faith in God.He knew God knew what was necessary and what was best.

When we pray we are not asked to have faith in our own prayers. As well-intentioned aswe might be we may be wrong or at least we might not be praying for what is best. We areasked to have faith in the one to whom we are praying. No better way is possible than to prayfrom the depth of our heart, Lord, let your will be done.

Jesus prayer was not a prayer of fatalistic resignation. He was not whining Okay, God, Igive up - you win or Theres no other way out, I have to submit. Rather, Jesus prayerexpressed this attitude Thank you God that I can surrender my will to you along with mydreams and hopes. Thank you that I can renounce them without it hurting to do so. Thank youthat I can joyfully put myself in your hands.

Resignation may have been a part of Jesus prayer but it was joyful and willful resignation.Jesus would not go kicking and screaming all the way to the cross. He would be strong andresolute to carry out Gods will.

It has been several years now that I started using the phrase in my prayers again. IfJesus used it and taught it then I must use it. Now the problem is getting it to be more than just aphrase. It doesnt do enough just to say it. I must mean it. It must be a part of my attitude andwill.

Sometimes you and I will come to a point where we will clearly see that what we want andwhat God wants are on opposite sides. We must pray, Thy will be done.

Sometimes we will not know how to pray the situations we must face are so confusing,so hard to straighten out. We must pray, Thy will be done.

Sometimes we will not understand what is going on. It will seem as if God isnt listening.We must pray, Thy will be done.

Sometimes we will be sure we are praying for the right thing. We must still pray, Thy willbe done.

This will not always be easy especially if we seek to make this prayer more than justwords. Jesus was in so much turmoil in the Garden he sweat drops of blood. We mayexperience times when the consequences of that prayer will prove to be difficult, at least as theworld views it. We will experience times when it will be hard to understand why God is allowingwhat God is allowing or why God is doing what God is doing.

But we are called to do it. It is a prayer of faith -- not a prayer of uncertainty. Gods wayis best. It is only Gods way that can bring into our lives a peace that passes all understanding.Again I ask, can you imagine what might have happened if those four words, Thy will be

done had not been a part of Jesus prayer?Can you imagine what a difference it might make in our community, in our world, our

family, in our own life if we will change our My will be done to Thy will be done. Today is theday to make that prayer and attitude a part of our lives as we are reminded of such perfectexample Jesus Christ our Lord.

The Greek writer, Nikos Kazantzakis, told the story of an old monk who lived on one of theislands off of Greece. One day a young man who was rock-climbing on the island came acrossthe monk and began conversing with him.

As the young man felt better acquainted, he asked the monk if he still wrestled with thedevil. Oh no, the devout old fellow said, Not anymore. I have grown old and the devil hasgrown old with me. He no longer has my strength. Now I wrestle with God. With God? the

young man queried, you wrestle with God? Well, let me ask: Do you hope to win?The answer the monk gave is worthy of remembering. Win? He asked, Do I hope towin? Heavens no, I hope to lose!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I CAN'T GET IT RIGHTScripture Reading: Romans 7:14-25

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Jeff VanVonderen, in his book Tired of Trying to Measure Up, tells the story of Marywhose mother was ill and expected to die. Mary had told him the painful story of how theirrelationship had broken down long ago. Mary's mother was impeccably groomed, alwayspunctual -- a precise perfectionist who had virtually driven her daughter away from her throughrepeated embarrassments. They hadn't spoken much for the past fifteen years. Now, a phonecall alerted Mary that her mother was flying in from another city for a visit, undoubtedly her last."This is my big chance to reconcile with her," Mary said, wringing her hands. "But I'm all torn upinside. I'm confused. Nervous. Excited. Terrified. What if she won't listen? What if she won't

forgive me? What if I can't forgive her?"Mary's lifestyle was pretty laid back. Her house was small and modest. She dressedplainly. Because her mother was coming she decided to do something special. She boughtthree new bright dresses. She had a friend come over and help perk up the house with freshpaint and new curtains. Mary became a nervous wreck.

After her Mom had come and gone Mary returned for another counseling session. Shegave a glowing report. "Mom and I got along great. We said what we needed to say to eachother. I feel like we are reconciled." Then in the next breath, Mary broke into tears. Jeff wasconfused. When she composed herself, he asks her why she was crying.

She replied, "I still don't know if my mom loves and accepts me. I didn't show her the realme. She saw clothes and decorations I don't usually have. She liked those. But would shehave been the same if I hadn't gone through all the external stuff? Would she have liked me?"

Anybody here have trouble measuring up? Do you ever feel like no matter what you do itis not good enough? Does anyone here have trouble living up to the demands, expectations and

intimidations of often well-meaning people? or yourself? or maybe even God?This past week I visited with an individual who like most of us was an evacuee following

the flood. He lived in one of the neighboring towns for several weeks, commuting most everyday to work on his flooded home. He shared about how hard it was, especially those days hewould make the drive and then feel like he hadn't got anything done. It didn't seem like he coulddo enough. It didn't seem like he could ever do the right thing.

We can relate. If we have ever had a problem with measuring up we have experienced itsince the flood. During those early days as people would call and ask how I was doing,invariably I responded with, "I continually feel like I am not doing the right thing, that I am neverat the right place, that I am never really sure I am helping the right person." It was a feeling ofincompleteness, a feeling of not measuring up to the immense task set before me.

This was not the first time I have felt this way. In fact, the struggle of not measuring uphas followed me most of my life. It was evidenced by my focus on the one bad grade on myreport card instead of the many good grades; by an incredible sense of unworthiness when it

came to pursuing any kind of relationship with people in authority; by my unwillingness to tryanything new that carried with it a high risk of failure; by my many years of fretting over myweaknesses as a pastor instead of enjoying my strengths.

I'm not alone. So many of us feel as if we don't measure up. Some of us have beentaught that unmercifully by parents or spouses or teachers or employers that we hope didn'tknow any better. Some of us don't know where the feeling comes from but it is there.Permeating our lives, it even affects our relationship with God. We see God as an unhappyparent, watching and waiting for perfection from us but never getting the right results.

We try to do better, only to give up. We try harder and we give up once more. We tryagain harder than ever before and again we give up. It is a wicked, joy-sapping, life-dullingmerry-go-round.

The newlyweds, Father Tim and Cynthia, are in trouble. While on a camping trip withsome youth they decide to do a little exploring on their own when they come across a caveentrance. It is exciting at first but within minutes they get themselves turned around. As the

moments go by they lose their light, they lose their bearings, they endanger themselves morethan once, they become cold and wet and thirsty and hungry, and now they begin to lose anyhope of getting out again.

Father Tim is devastated - hopeless. He has never confronted anything like this before.He has spent nearly forty years telling other people how to live in the light, and here he is, lost ina complex maze in the bowels of the earth, in total, devastating darkness.

In his anguish of not being able to solve their life-threatening problem, out of the blue hebegins to think about his father, his father who always seemed to make him feel like he couldnever do anything right. The feelings all flood back as once again he seems to be unable to getthings right. As he cries, he recites the litany that has been so much a part of his life, "I can't get

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it right, I can't get it right ..." This litany has followed him through his 60+ years of life. Heshould be thinking about retiring but he can't allow himself to do it. He has tried so hard to geteverything right in the church and in his ministry but he isn't quite there. He just can't quit untilhe has it right. It is his last chance to get something right.

As he shares this flood of feelings and thoughts with Cynthia, she firmly responds,reflecting on her own life with her first husband, "Listen to me, dearest, and listen well .... I livedwith Elliot for seventeen years, always trying to get it right. When I tried to kill myself and itdidn't work, I remember thinking, I can't even get this right. Elliott was never there for me, not

once .... During those long months when I was recovering in a friends's house in the country,God spoke to my heart in a way He hadn't s

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