There was an error in this gadget

Sunday, July 13, 2008

Average Joe - John 1:29-42 (Blackburn's Chapel)

The next day he saw Jesus coming toward him and declared, “Here is the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world! This is he of whom I said, ‘After me comes a man who ranks ahead of me because he was before me.’ I myself did not know him; but I came baptizing with water for this reason, that he might be revealed to Israel.” And John testified, “I saw the Spirit descending on him from heaven like a dove, and it remained on him. I myself did not know him, but the one who sent me to baptize with water said to me, ‘He on whom you see the Spirit descend and remain is the one who baptizes with the Holy Spirit.’ And I myself have seen and have testified that this is the Son of God.”
The next day John again was stranding with two of his disciples, and as he watched Jesus walk by, he exclaimed, “Look, here is the Lamb of God!” The two disciples heard him say this, and they followed Jesus. When Jesus turned and saw them following, he said to them, “What are you looking for?” They said to him, “Rabbi,” (which translated means Teacher), “where are you staying?” He said to them, “Come and see.” They came and saw where he was staying, and they remained with him that day. It was about four o’clock in the afternoon. One of the two who heard John speak and followed him was Andrew, Simon Peter’s brother. He first found his brother Simon and said to him, “We have found the Messiah” (which is translated Anointed). He brought Simon to Jesus, who looked at him and said, “You are Simon son of John. You are to be called Cephas” (which is translated Peter).

I need to let you know this morning that this particular sermon is not going where you think it is. Sermons on this passage have tended to focus on either the beginning or the end of the story – either they focus on Jesus as the Lamb of God, or they focus on Simon Peter, who gets the nickname “rock.” While either one of these would make for a good sermon, that’s not where I want to focus today.

Today, I’d like for us to think about little brothers. Who in the room has a little brother? Take a look around, I want everyone to note this. Now, who in the room is a little brother? Those of you who raised your hand the first time, I want you to take special note of these little brothers around you! Little brothers have it tough, growing up in the shadow of their older siblings. Little brothers find themselves often wanting to be like their big brothers, but wanting to do it on their own and without any extra help. Little brothers tire of being compared to their older siblings, and often develop fiercely independent personalities.

In our text today, we also meet two brothers. We meet Simon Peter, and his little brother, Andrew. Andrew is an average Joe, an ordinary guy. We know Andrew, but we’ve overlooked him so many times. The Andrews of the world easily disappear within the shadow of the more dynamic Peters. But, as a little brother myself, I think the little brothers of the world have been overlooked for too long! As an Andrew myself, I think the Andrews of the world have been overlooked for too long! Before we’re all said and done today, hopefully you’ll see why the world could use a few more Andrews. May we pray.

Who was Andrew?
Andrew was Simon Peter’s kid brother. I picture him growing up in his big brother’s shadow. When they played a game growing up, who decided what they would play? Simon Peter. When a joke was being told, who was telling it? Simon Peter. When someone asked them a question about fishing, who jumped in with an immediate response? Simon Peter. In the background, playing second fiddle, was Andrew. People always knew he was there, but he never got quite the recognition his older brother did.

In our text, we’re told that Andrew was a disciple of John the Baptist. Remember that a disciple is simply someone who follows someone else. Andrew resonated with John the Baptist’s message and wanted to immerse himself in his teaching. In our text today, John the Baptist is standing there as Jesus walks by, sometime very shortly after Jesus’ baptism. He whispers. “Pssst. Hey Andrew. That’s him. That’s the guy. You know, the one I’ve been telling you about from the beginning. You know, the Lamb of God. The one who will take away the sin of the world, who will change the world, the one who will bring about reconciliation between all the world and God. That’s him!”

Andrew doesn’t need to hear anything else. Before John has even stopped speaking, Andrew is off. He knew John’s message was one of preparation, and his teacher has just told him that the person for whom he was preparing has arrived. Andrew doesn’t need further convincing. Andrew has been a disciple of John the Baptist, and now, he will be a disciple of Jesus. He knew that his time with John the Baptist was to prepare for an encounter with the Lamb of God, the Messiah, the Anointed One. I doubt he really knew what to expect as he followed Jesus. He simply knew that he was to follow him, and when he did, his life was forever changed.

Andrew was just an ordinary guy
I mentioned earlier that Andrew often fades into the shadow of his more gregarious brother, Simon Peter. Part of the reason is that Andrew is much more ordinary than his older brother. Simon Peter – he’s someone you meet only once in a great while. He’s the guy up front, the guy who can do all things and do them well – and he gets all the attention. He’s the one we read about in the newspapers and watch on the evening news. When you get your alumni magazine, you immediately flip to the alumni notes section to see what extraordinary things he’s been up to lately. He’s a rare species, he’s larger than life, and you remember meeting someone like him.

But Andrew is just a normal, average guy. Andrew is someone you meet everyday. He drives your bus, he sits next to you in class, he’s the vice president at your bank, he’s your next-door neighbor, and your daughters play softball together. Every few years, you read about in the alumni magazine because he got a modest promotion, or moved to a new town 70 miles away, or had another baby. Andrew is just a regular, ordinary, normal guy – someone just like you and me. And that’s what I want us to remember about Andrew – he is a regular, ordinary, normal guy – someone just like you and me.

And it is his ordinary-ness that makes him so remarkable. For every Simon Peter, there are 10,000 Andrews. For every gregarious, charismatic, talented up-front person, there are 10,000 regular, ordinary, normal people. It is Andrew’s ordinary-ness that makes it possible for God to use him like he does. Let’s look further at how God used an ordinary guy like Andrew.

God’s use of the ordinary
Andrew follows Jesus and ends up spending the better part of 24 hours with him. We don’t really know what they talked about, or what happened, or what was said. But something happened that was truly transformative, and Andrew became a disciple of Jesus Christ.

And what did he do? First thing the next morning, Andrew ran to find his larger-than-life big brother and share the wonderful news, “We have found the Messiah. The one for whom we have hoped for so long is here, he is among us. I have met him, and I want you to meet him too.”

Andrew shows us what it means to be an evangelist. A pastor in our conference was meeting with his evangelism team one night at the beginning of a new year, and the new members of the team wanted to know if they could change their name. They were uncomfortable with the word “evangelism.” For half the group, the term brought to mind people like Billy Graham, and they didn’t feel worthy to be associated in the same company. For the other half of the group, the term brought to mind a host of television preachers, including Jim Bakker and Jimmy Swaggart, and they didn’t want to be associated in the same company.

So here is how Andrew shows us what it means to be an evangelist. Andrew was an ordinary person, who had an encounter with Jesus and felt something within himself changed. And so, he went and found his brother and brought him to Jesus. Andrew did not try to convert his brother. Andrew did not try to change his brother or convince his brother. Andrew knew that if he brought his brother into the presence of Jesus, that his brother could be transformed just the way that he had been transformed by Christ. Andrew brought his brother to Jesus, and Simon Peter gave his life to Christ.

In fact, everywhere we meet Andrew throughout the rest of the story, he brings people to Jesus. When a great crowd had gathered and was starting to get hungry, Andrew had been talking to a little boy who had a sack lunch with five loaves of bread and two fish in it. Andrew said, “I would like you to meet Jesus.” Jesus transformed that little boy, transformed his meager meal, and transformed the crowd. Then later, Andrew meets a few Greeks – a few outsiders, that is – and introduces them to Jesus and they become disciples. Everywhere you turn, he is bringing people and introducing them to Jesus, and lives are changed because of it. One doesn’t need to be flamboyant and larger than life like Peter. The world needs regular people, just like Andrew, who bring people to Jesus. And when people are brought to Jesus, lives are transformed.

Vince Antonucci tells the story of speaking at a conference for teenagers. He gave his message, and then offered an invitation for the students to come forward who wanted to give their lives to Jesus. The stream of kids slowed to a trickle, and then stopped altogether. Vince closed his eyes and prayed, “God, maybe there’s one more kid who needs to give their heart to you. No one’s coming forward now, but maybe there’s one more kid . . . “ He opened his eyes, and a boy with no arms or legs was getting pushed to the front of the room in his wheelchair by two of his friends, both with smiles beaming. He thought, “Wow, that kid must have had such a rough life. I am so glad that now he’s going to have Jesus in his life. And thank you, God, that he had friends who were willing to invite him to come along, and to hang out with him.”

Who is the Andrew in your life? Who is the person or the people who cared enough about you to introduce you to Jesus? Was it a parent? A pastor? A neighbor? A co-worker? An ordinary, average, regular little brother? But another question for you: in whose life can you be an Andrew? Who is waiting for you to introduce them to Jesus? To whom can you say, “Come and see?”

It’s as simple as an invitation. This story focuses on invitation. The text shows us that simple words of invitation are more crucial to the life of redemption than our grand and well thought-out proclamations and carefully worded doctrinal statements. The church begins with an invitation, and it spreads, person to person, house to house, nation to nation, with the simple words of a heartfelt invitation.

Jesus invites Andrew to “Come and See,” and Andrew invites Simon Peter to see what he has seen. From this point on, the way to Jesus is experienced through personal invitations. Our evangelism is simply a reflection of this truth. Andrew invites Simon Peter to come and see; Andrew welcomes because he was welcomed himself. We welcome because we were welcomed ourselves. We invite because we were invited.

Something so ordinary as an invitation, yet look at the extraordinary things God accomplishes through the ordinary. Through ordinary water, God is able to cleanse us, claim us, and commission us in baptism. Through ordinary bread and wine, God draws us into fellowship and strengthens us for a life of discipleship. Through ordinary people, people like Andrew, people like you and me, God’s love and redemption is offered to a hurting and broken world. People are invited to come and see, people are brought into the presence of Christ, people have an encounter with the living Lord, and their lives are transformed.

The world could use a few more Andrews. The world could use a few more people who bring people to Jesus.

Sunday, July 6, 2008

Living the Dream - Genesis 37:1-28

Jacob settled in the land where his father had lived as an alien, the land of Canaan. This is the story of the family of Jacob.
Joseph, being seventeen years old, was shepherding the flock with his brothers; he was a helper to the sons of Bilhah and Zilpah, his father’s wives, and Joseph brought a bad report about them to their father. Now Israel loved Joseph more than any other of his children, because he was the son of his old age; and he made him a long robe of many colors. But when his brothers saw that their father loved him more than all his brothers, they hated him, and could not speak peaceably to him.
Once Joseph had a dream, and when he told it to his brothers, they hated him even more. He said to them, “Listen to this dream I dreamed. There we were, binding sheaves in the field. Suddenly, my sheaf rose and stood upright; then your sheaves gathered around it, and bowed down to my sheaf.” His brothers said to him, “Are you indeed to reign over us? Are you indeed to have dominion over us?” So they hated him even more because of his dreams and his words.
He had another dream, and told it to his brothers, saying, “Look, I have had another dream: the sun, the moon, and eleven stars were bowing down to me.” But when he told it to his father and to his brothers, his father rebuked him, and said to him, “What kind of dream is this that you have had? Shall we indeed come, I and your mother and your brothers, and bow to the ground before you?” So his brothers were jealous of him, but his father kept the matter in mind.
Now his brothers went to pasture their father’s flock near Shechem. And Israel said to Joseph, “Are not your brothers pasturing the flock at Shechem? Come, I will send you to them.” He answered, “Here I am.” So he said to him, “Go now, see if it is well with your brothers and with the flock; and bring word back to me.” So he sent him from the valley of Hebron.
He came to Shechem, and a man found him wandering in the fields; the man asked him, “What are you seeking?” “I am seeking my brothers, he said; tell me, please, where they are pasturing the flock.” The man said, “They have gone away, for I heard them say, ‘Let us go to Dothan.’” So Joseph went after his brothers, and found them at Dothan. They saw him from a distance, and before he came near to them, they conspired to hill him. They said to one another, “Here comes this dreamer. Come now, let us kill him and throw him into one of the pits; then we shall say that a wild animal has devoured him, and we shall see what has become of his dreams.” But when Rueben heard it, he delivered him out of their hands, saying, “Let us not take his life.” Rueben said to them, “Shed no blood; throw him into this pit here in the wilderness, but lay no hand on him” – that he might rescue him out of their hand and restore him to their father. So when Joseph came to his brothers, they stripped him of his robe, the long robe with many colors that he wore; and they took him and threw him into a pit. The pit was empty; there was no water in it.
Then they sat down to eat, and looking up they saw a caravan of Ishmaelites coming from Gilead, with their camels carrying gum, balm, and resin, on their way to carry it down to Egypt. Then Judah said to his brothers, “What profit is it if we kill our brother and conceal his blood? Come, let us sell him to the Ishmaelites, and not lay our hands on him, for he is our brother, our own flesh.” And his brothers agreed. When some Midianite traders passed by, they drew Joseph up, lifting him out of the pit, and sold him to the Ishmaelites for twenty pieces of silver. And they took Joseph to Egypt.

When I am up here in front of the congregation, there is a little mental game I like to play sometimes. I like to look across the congregation at heads bowed, and ask myself, “Who’s Praying, Who’s Sleeping?”

The next time the person next to you falls asleep in church, you’ll be tempted to wake them up. Before you do, you may want to think twice. As it turns out, people used to go to the temple and intentionally fall asleep, hoping that God would speak to them through dreams. So, when I look around the congregation and see people starting to nod off, I don’t take offense; I simply assume they are participating in a great Biblical tradition.
Today is the second of three sermons you selected for me to preach. You will recall that several weeks ago I gave the congregation the opportunity to vote on their favorite Bible stories, and agreed that I would preach the three most popular choices. Last week was Noah’s Ark, July 20th will be Jonah and the great fish, and this morning, we’re looking together at Joseph’s dreams. May we pray.

I remember a recurring dream I had in the months before my graduation from Duke. The dream was always, more or less, the same. The divinity school holds its ceremony in Duke Chapel. We would be lined up in alphabetical order, marching from the hallowed halls of the divinity school across the quad and into the chapel. Of course, my parents and grandparents were inside somewhere, ready to watch me receive my degree. Just before I passed through those great oak doors into the Chapel, a member of the administration – sometimes the registrar, sometimes the dean, once the president of the university – would pull me out of line. It seemed there had been an oversight when they reviewed my academic file, and I had failed to register for one required class, but that oversight would keep me from receiving my degree that night.

When the actual night of graduation finally rolled around, I can’t tell you how nervous I was. I frantically walked across the quad, my eyes darting left and right, certain that, at any moment, Dean Jones was going to jump out from behind a bush and give me the horrible news that I was not graduating that night.

This morning, our Biblical text introduces us to Joseph, a person who was no stranger to dreams. You probably know him as the star of Andrew Lloyd Webber’s hit Broadway musical, Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat. I’d like us to take a look at Joseph, his family, and his dreams.

Joseph comes from a long line of dreamers. He is the great-grandson of Abraham, the father of many nations. God made a covenant with Abraham. “I will make of you a great nation, and I will bless you, and make your name great, so that you will be a blessing.” This covenant will mark the people of God, and God’s people for all subsequent generations, including ours, are blessed in order to be a blessing to others.

Abraham’s son was Isaac, Joseph’s grandfather. Isaac is the son promised to Abraham and Sarah in their old age, and he is often remembered as the child who was almost sacrificed by his father.

Isaac’s son was Jacob, Joseph’s father. Jacob is a pretty crafty member of the family – he tricks his elderly father into giving him the blessing intended for his older brother. Jacob dreams of a ladder stretching into heaven, with angels descending and ascending on it, and God is revealed to Jacob through this dream. God brings Jacob into the covenant he established with his grandfather Abraham, and it is clear that the two intend to walk together, or in the concept I shared in last week’s sermon, that the two intend to dance together.

Now, Jacob the trickster gets one-upped himself when it comes to marriage. He has his eyes set on Rachel, the younger of the daughters of a guy named Laban. Laban agrees to let Jacob marry Rachel after 7 years of work. However, Laban tricks Jacob into marrying his older, less attractive daughter, Leah. So, Jacob works another 7 years in order to get Rachel, which I’m sure set up healthy family dynamics between the two sisters. Jacob ends up with a total of four wives – Leah, Rachel, and their maids – Bilhah and Zilpah.

Rachel was the favored wife; after all, she’s the only one he wanted in the first place. These wives would produce a total of 12 sons for Jacob. Rachel only had two sons, Joseph, the star of today’s story, and Benjamin, during whose birth Rachel died. Though Benjamin was the youngest, his father always associated his birth with Rachel’s death. And so, Jacob played favorites toward Joseph.

By the time we meet up with Joseph in this morning’s text, he is seventeen years old. Whatever else you know about Joseph, I want you to remember this: Joseph was an obnoxious, spoiled, egotistical brat. Only two verses into this morning’s reading, he is giving a bad report to his father about his two wives. In other words, Joseph was a tattletale.

The relationship among Joseph and his brothers was no ordinary sibling rivalry. It was outright hatred, such to the point that they never even greet him with a daily “Shalom.” They wouldn’t even give him the time of day.

And can you blame them? They were always out working in the fields and tending after the flocks, while Joseph was sleeping in ‘til noon and playing Guitar Hero all day. Joseph always got the last piece of pizza, or an extra baked potato, or a second bowl of ice cream. The other eleven brothers had to share a room, but Joseph had a room entirely to himself with its own private bathroom. And Joseph always got the fanciest designer clothes his father could get his hands on, while his brothers were left to fend for themselves.

This family seems to have taken the fun right out of dysfunctional. There is plenty of blame to go around. Jacobs favors one son over the others. Joseph is an unwise tattletale and braggart. His brothers are full of hate toward him, and even quarrel among themselves as to how they should treat him.

Now, Joseph should have known that his brothers hated him. You would think that he would have been a little more cautious about how he acted around them, but not our Joseph. He’s either foolish or brash, or perhaps a little bit of both. “Hey guys,” he says. “Let me tell you about this dream I had.” We were all out binding sheaves of corn in the field. Suddenly, all on its own, mine stood straight up, and all of yours gathered around it and bowed down before it. Isn’t that a cool dream?”

I don’t know what response Joseph expected to get from his brothers. Did he think this dream was going to impress them? Were they going to be awestruck? Dismiss it some indigestion from whatever bedtime snack he had the night before? Whatever Joseph expected, the text tells us that Joseph’s brothers hated him even more because of his dreams and his words.

Not learning his lesson the first time, Joseph shares another dream with his brothers. “The sun, moon, and eleven stars were bowing down to me.” At this, even his doting father rebukes him. Remember, his father was no stranger to dreams. “Son, you’ve got to be careful running around talking like this. Even if you’re having these dreams and think they mean something, maybe you should just keep some things to yourself.”

The story goes on as Joseph’s brothers sell him into slavery and he is taken to Egypt, where, interestingly enough, he is still dreaming. Only now, he is interpreting other people’s dreams. He meets two servants of the pharaoh in prison, and they tell him about dreams they’ve had, and he interprets their meanings. He then interprets some dreams of the pharaoh himself that predict seven years of plenty followed by seven years of famine. Joseph is put in charge of the affairs of the country because of this, and in an ironic twist, meets his brothers when they come to Egypt to purchase some of the excess grain that was prudently stored during the years of plenty. His brothers bow before him in humility, fulfilling what was prefigured in Joseph’s dream in today’s text, the dream for which his brothers hated him even more.

We see clearly that Joseph’s dreams meant something. The dreams of those he encountered meant something. Indeed, throughout the great Biblical tradition, dreams mean something.

My grandfather used to tell us about a recurring dream he had. He would be walking around in a strange town, utterly lost. He realized at some point that he wasn’t wearing any clothes. In conversation with other members of the family, he discovered that his brother-in-law was having a similar recurring dream. They agreed that the next time either one had the dream, they’d look for each other instead of wandering around the town by themselves.

Many of you have participated in an on-going conversation with me throughout the week on the significance of dreams. I sent out a mass email to hundreds of you and asked you to respond to two questions. 1. What recurring dreams are you having lately? and 2. Do you think dreams actually mean anything or not?

It will not surprise you to learn that the responses to these questions were as varied as each of us. However, a couple things did surprise me in your responses. One, I was surprised at the sheer number of responses. I opened my email the morning after I asked for your responses, only to find that you had literally flooded my Inbox. Two, I was surprised at the deeply personal nature of much of what you shared.

Some of you shared dreams with very little commentary as to their meaning. Others offered half-hearted guesses at what these dreams might have meant. Still others went into great detail about what some of these dreams did mean, and the profound connections these dreams made into your lives.

Here are some of the things you’re dreaming about. Moving. Making a hole-in-one. Conversations with friends and loved ones who have passed into the next life. Moments of awful pain and suffering. Trying to get the attention of someone who had died. Snakes. Brake failure. Missing or forgetting class, appointments, meetings and a whole host of other things. Visions of children and grandchildren being born. Things from our childhood that needed to be resolved. Being trapped – under water, in elevators, in long hallways without doors and windows. Appalachian football. Getting lost in hotels, churches, schools, businesses, homes, or on remote roads. A few of you even said you’d had dreams about me, but, that’s all I have to say about that.

But, what does all this mean? Are our dreams messages? And if they are, who is sending the message?

Dreams can be one of the many ways that God speaks to us. If you want to explore this subject in greater depth, Bobby Sharp recommended a book to me. It’s Dreams: God’s Forgotten Language by John Sanders. He develops the idea that rationalistic, enlightened people like ourselves have cut ourselves off from communicating with God through dreams and have chosen to ignore the spiritual and psychological elements of many of our dreams.

But it’s not just dreams through which God speaks. That’s only one channel. God speaks through worship. God speaks through music. God speaks through the sacraments of baptism and Holy Communion. God speaks through studying the Scriptures. God speaks through prayer. God speaks through our generosity of our time and resources. God speaks through our life experiences. God speaks through conversation with our friends and family. The more channels of divine communication we tune into, the more likely we are to catch the message. If we will simply pay attention to some of these things, I think we’ll find God speaking all the time.

Sometimes, a dream is just a dream. It might be just some random information that found itself together while you slept. It could be anxiety working itself out. It could be a pastrami sandwich you had right before bed.

But sometimes, a dream is a little message. We find that, in our waking and in our sleeping, God continues to work. God has placed a bit of himself within each of us – a dream of what we can become as individuals, but also a dream of what we can become as a community of faith. Identify that dream, figure out what it is, and never let it go. This morning, it is easy enough for me to say, “Never lose sight of your dream,” but I want to go one better. Whatever your dream is, whatever it is that God has placed inside of you to do, or to be, or to become, may it happen in accordance with the will of God. The Lord was with Joseph, may He be with you as well.