Nicodemus: What are you afraid of?

A sermon written on the story surrounding John 3:16. Written for our daughter Avery Kathleen Pugh, on 3/16, the day she was baptized.

The audio is found here.

Two nights ago Jacob and I are lying on his bed in the dark.

Jacob: Dad, have you ever stayed up all night?

Ashley and I have made promises to not lie to our kids.

Me: Yes, Jacob, I have.

More than once? He asks.

Yes, more than once.

Dad, what did you do?

Mostly we got in trouble, I said.

I do not think I want to do that, he said.

I know. But you  will, I said.

There is a saying in our house that Nothing Good ever happens after 2 am? 

Two phrases have dropped out of my vocabulary over time.

What do you have to lose? What are you afraid of? As a young man these two questions got me in plenty of trouble.

But as time has gone on- that same Litmus test doesn’t work.

What am I afraid of? Lots of things. What do I have to lose? Everything.

I always say, I do not know how anyone raises kids these days without having someone to pray to. 

And when I get in bed I offer this prayer, “Lord, watch over my children when I can’t.” Some nights I sleep better than others. The darkness is sometimes overwhelming. Darkness can smell fear. Suddenly I’m breathing in darkness, filling my lungs with pure fear. Fear for my kids. For Ashley, my house, my purpose in life, fear that the uncertainty of the future and the missteps of the past.

I’m a pretty rational guy, but fear ain’t rational. We all have it. My worst fear, the one that finds me in the utter darkness, is that God isn’t really there.

Some say God is angry or dead or doesn’t exist- I envision it more like darkness, like a closet or a cave. Without God there can be no true joy- just synapses and impulses and dopamine. All life is a meaningless illusion. A void bigger than a black hole. Inescapable Darkness. 

That is my worst nightmare.

In my tired and dark moments I turn to scripture. Though where I do not want to turn the light on- for fear of waking someone else up- someone who isn’t struggling with deep metaphysical darkness, instead I close my eyes and read the bible verses I have memorized.

Luther liked to say that  bible is the cradle the holds baby Jesus, and inside the gospel,

He also said John 3:16 is the gospel in a nutshell.

A psychologist might tell you that all phobias ultimately boil down to one: the fear of death. This is the very promise that Jesus aims to make- whoever believes shall not perish, but have life.

Beautiful passage.

It belongs as the heart of a great speech, a sermon on the mountain or plain in the sun high in the sky and where Jesus is reaching thousands. Belongs on the front page of every gospel, on the front of the bible, on bill boards, written in the sky and written on signs held by disturbed men wearing rainbow wigs at football games..

But it’s not in a great speech. There is no great crowd, no cheers after receiving it.

The great John 3:16, when first uttered, falls on the deaf ears of a Nicodemus, a man who wasn’t ready to hear it, in the middle of the night.

It’s dark. And not just because the sun is down. Nicodemus is stumbling in the dark, tripping on his own system of laws, unable to sleep, and afraid to be seen in public at the foot of Jesus.

Nicodemus is over educated.  Rather than the college student he’s more like the professor.

Jesus has no formal training. He’s a carpenters son who got baptized by an eccentric Zealot. For anyone witnessing Nicodemus going to see Jesus in the middle of the night might just think- this is the blind leading the blind.

Under cover of darkness, Nicodemus opens the conversation with no question, but rather tries to tell Jesus who he thinks he is.

Rabbi, we know that you are a teacher who has come from God

Not prophet, not Lord, not savior, not messiah, not Christos- just a Rabbi.

Jesus responds. Very truly, I tell you, no one can see the kingdom of God without being born from above.

Born again? Nicodemus asks. Like in a womb?

Same word born again/above

Jesus: No, born of water and the spirit. Do not be astonished. It’s like the wind, the Spirit blows where it blows, and you can’t see it, and you do not know where it goes.

Jesus is playing with him

Nicodemus finally arrives at the heart of his question, the true nature of his fear: 

How can these things be?

Nicodemus, like all of us, imagine the order of things to be a certain way. And a couple of times in our lives, all of a sudden everything we thought we knew comes crashing down around us.

It’s hard to pick up the pieces of your life falls apart. It is hard to answer the question eating at our souls, “How can these things be?”

We lose our job, or a pet. We ask, how can these things be?

We look at new self- which looks more like an old self and we ask, “How can these things be?”

The doctor tells us we need surgery and when we wake up, a part of our body will be gone forever.

“How can these things be?”

Mom calls. She says Dad’s had a heart attack. And all we can think to say is

“How can these things be?”

The darkness fills our lungs and all of a sudden, the same God we worship by day we curse by night.

Nicodemus goes home bruised and limping like Jacob, from his wrestle with the living God.

But his story isn’t over. In chapter 19 he applies his knowledge of Jewish law to properly prepare the lifeless body of Jesus for burial. I imagine him uttering those same words but with different meaning.

This man was supposed to be the messiah. I finally believed in him and now he’s dead. He promised eternal life. How can these things be?

I heard a definition of Faith that I really like. Faith is believing in promises that have been made to you. Like John 3:16.

Those nights of darkness fear and doubt fill our lungs.  

So I have a challenge for you. For a whole week, instead of confessing our sins, lets us try to confess our fears. Confess your inability to trust in things unseen, your struggle to hold onto God’s promise in the dark times of our life. Confess that we want to trust ourselves rather than God. Confess that we do not believe and we do not see.

What are you afraid of? What do you have to lose?

I’d like to read for you a poem called the Conversation of the Unborn twins.

The conversation of a set of twins in the womb of their mother ...

“Say, do you actually believe in life after birth?” the one twin asks.

“Yes, definitely! Inside we grow and are prepared for what will come outside,” answered the other twin.

“I believe that’s nonsense!” says the first. “There can’t be life after birth—what is that supposed to look like?”

“I do not exactly know either. But there will certainly be much more light than in here. And maybe we will be walking about and eat with our mouths?”

“I’ve never heard such nonsense! Eating with the mouth? What a crazy idea. There is the umbilical cord that nourishes us. And how do you want to walk about? The umbilical cord is much too short.”

“I am sure it is possible. It’s just that everything will be a little bit different.”

“You are crazy! Nobody ever came back after birth. Life is over with birth. That’s it.”

“I admit that nobody knows what life after birth will look like. But I do know that we will see our mother then, and that she will take care of us.”

“Mother???? But you do not believe in a mother, do you? Where is she?”

“She is here, all around us. We are and we live within her and through her. Without her we couldn’t exist at all!”

“Nonsense! I’ve never sensed a mother, consequently she doesn’t exist.”

“Yes, sometimes, when we are very quiet you can hear her sing.”

—Author Unknown

Today we baptize our baby girl, Avery Kathleen Pugh, as a child of God, whether she likes it or not. I am so excited to baptize our baby girl I can’t stand it. She is a symbol of God’s promise to give life to the world. Of God’s love.

Baptism is a great reminder that God acts first. There are some who would say that we ought to wait to baptize, until the person can speak for themselves and profess their own faith. But God does not ask our permission to love us.

So when you’re in the dark, when the fear and doubt fill your lungs, remember that sometimes the greatest thing to happen after 2am is the breaking of the first light, and the promise of a new day. 

A Sermon on Broken Families and Posing for Christmas Cards

The audio version can be found here. 

Grace and Peace to You!

As a Dad, I find myself expecting more and more of my boys as they grow older and more capable. I expect them to be in their best behavior when company is over, I expect them to always tell the truth, to clean their room, and treat each other with respect.

I have high expectations of my children, they’re Pastor’s Kids, after all. And I get from them my share of eye-rolls and tantrums. My expectations sometimes go unmet.

And I’m often amazed when I pick my kids up from school or a baby sitter when they tell me how well behaved my children were in their care. My children? I ask.

When my expectations aren’t met, I don’t recoil or recalculate. I don’t lower my bar. I sit them down and ask this question, “What’s your plan?” How do you expect to get the results you want from the behavior you are exhibiting?

I find something they want and I ask them to work for it.

I know they have high expectations of me as your father to not yell at traffic or football games. I am a pastor, after all.

Two weeks ago, while posing for our Christmas photo, I was fussing at the boys to behave, focus, and look happy between clicks of the camera.

My son said to me, though grinned teeth, “What’s your plan, Dad?”  

I laughed, shocked. And then I smiled and we got the photo we wanted. I love that my kids push me to be a better father and human being. I love that they don’t lower their bar for me either. They’re tough but fair.

Matthew doesn’t paint a warm picture, but tells the story of the baby by way of the man who raised him, Joseph. The gospel starts with a lineage as long as a whole page with two columns. The names of famous people are peppered in for flavor-

Kings and adulterers, women famous for a certain reason, and their children. As a whole this litany of 28 generations looks impressive and regal. But under the microscope we see a family full of dysfunction. Joseph is declared the son of David. But David’s wife isn’t named only as “the wife of Uriah” meaning that the family tree and it’s most famous ancestor wasn’t without his skeletons.  

Ultimately this is just another dysfunctional family portrait. No amount of golden-flecked pages are going to hide that. And to make matters worse, the centuries of royalty and nobility come to a screeching halt because of the main character of Matthew’s first chapter: Joseph, son of Jacob, descendant of David and Abraham.

See, Joseph isn’t exactly sure how his fiancée got pregnant, but he knows for sure he didn’t do it. Standing on the shoulders of his “righteous” ancestors, he has no choice but to save his name for another who is more worthy. Mary was a poor girl anyway, he shouldn’t have to lower his standards for her. He decides to take the high road, to dismiss her in secret so that she will forgo trial and probable stoning. The Jewish courthouse should have a sign that says, “Innocent until proven pregnant.” She’s definitely pregnant. Joseph is embarrassed. The family has fallen on hard times. Given his status, he should have his pick of eligible teenagers, but he is no noble, just a carpenter. A handy man. A laborer.

Joseph has made up him mind, not like he had a choice. If his grandparents only knew the shame he felt they’d rise from their graves like Ezekiel prophesied. Them bones them bones them dry bones…

Isaiah had a prophesy too. A messiah would come. From his lineage. Not from a peasant girl with a wandering eye.

Ancients didn’t know what we do about fertility. They believed that father supplied all ingredients for a child and that women merely carried it. This means the child wasn’t half Mary’s, it 100% belonged to someone else.

Joseph made up his mind. He knew his plan. He’d cut bait and try again with someone more deserving. Tough but fair.

Then an angel visited Joseph in a dream. He was, after all, named after his great-great grand uncle Joseph the great dreamer. But enough name-dropping. An angel came to visit him. Probably Gabriel given his lineage. Only the best for the best.

The angel told Joseph that his fiancée was telling the truth and that the baby was made by the holy spirit and was the messiah.

Joseph awoke, probably with a million questions- like the ones we ask today. Wait, if he’s the messiah, then why did the prophet say that it would come from my lineage, if I’m not the father. Don’t you know that the books will tell my family history and leave the reader guessing why after 4 times the perfect number 7 of generations the story ends with me only to start seconds later without me? Joseph must feel like the extension cord that comes up two inches short of the Christmas lights on my mailbox: He’s going to have to find another power source.

Then he probably contemplated how-exactly God plans to grow a child in a human womb that is not of a human father. Only once, the first man was made by God without a mother. Is this supposed to be the New Adam? Is the lineage supposed to end with me? Is this some sort of fresh start?

The angel told me to name his Jesus, well, in Hebrew Yeshua, which means God saves.

Two problems here for Joseph- the prophesy said “you shall call him Emmanuel” but the angel says, “they shall call him Emmanuel which means, ‘God with us’”

Joseph knows what the name means. He knows the prophesy, so why name him something else?

The second problem Joseph would have is that the name Yeshua is not in his family tree, it’s a common name, like John or Bob. It’s a local’s name, a poor person of Nazareth. Why not David or Abraham or Jacob? This naming of someone else’s child a name that belongs to lesser beings is another slap in the face. Joseph must have fought the urge to run from this tornado of disaster. But Gabriel is a family friend. The decision doesn’t add up, but despite his better judgment Joseph follows the voices in his head, the visions in his dream. He weds the woman and settles in for another 28 generations of regret and waiting.

The question that remains unanswered in my mind, is what level of choice Joseph thought he had. Did he have any agency in this? Imagine, just for a second, if Joseph followed the law and turned Mary in. The saint and the Christ child would never have been, and all of Israel would have to have waited who knows how many more generations before God would try again.

He almost said no. He almost turned down the savior of the world in order to save his family’s good name. But I wonder if Matthew didn’t post the lineage of screwballs and harlots on the first page of his gospel to give Joseph some hope. Tamar, Rahab, Ruth, The wife of Uriah, are all wildcards. Each known for using what God gave them, all gentiles and not Jews, all outspoken and kind of awesome. Matthew could have left them out, substituting instead Rachel, Sarah, and Rebecca.

But this is a family of heroes not do-gooders, and well behaved women rarely make history.

Matthew leads us to assume that Joseph decided to father the child BECAUSE of his crazy family.

God works in mysterious ways.        

Yes, Joseph had a choice. We know that because God always gives us a choice. God is powerful and can be wrathful. God would have good reason to wipe out humanity and start over for the 3^rd time, with no one left on earth to remember the promise of the rainbow to Noah.

But God doesn’t come to us this time in the name of wrath, but in the name of love. The one that is to be called “God saves” doesn’t arrive with a wand and a book on sorcery, but is born like a human being is born- tiny and helpless. He comes to us as vulnerable as a newborn baby so that we may learn to care and love God as He cares and loves us. If he had come with a sword he would have been met with shields of hatred. But he comes in the innocence of a helpless, lovable creature that makes grown men let down their guards.

I imagine my boys saying, “God, what’s your plan?” How do you expect to get the results you want from the behavior you are exhibiting? God’s plan seems far-fetched and ill-fated.

 But it works on the hard-heartedness of Joseph. In times where paternity of a child is in question, whoever names the child is legally the father. By naming the child, Joseph acknowledges Jesus as his own.

And Joseph lives into God’s plan, not by naming his son from the heroes of the past, but names him for the hero of the future. “Jesus” which means “God saves.” And a nuclear family is joined together Mary, Joseph, and the Savior of humanity. I imagine receiving their Christmas card in my mailbox, they’re all smiles for the camera. Fortunately the smell of the stable doesn’t translate to the photo. There is no question that the first Christmas literally stunk. But we don’t usually focus on that.

I’m glad today that we have Matthew’s Gospel. It isn’t the pretty version- no- we save Luke’s version for Christmas Eve. But Matthew’s version wonderfully real. It’s not a posed portrait, it’s a snapshot of real life.

Two years ago we posed for our Christmas Card photo on the park that overlooks the golden gate bridge. It took too long to get the kids ready, so by the time we got there the sun had moved to directly behind us, making a shot of the bridge behind us impossible. So we turned around and with the Berkeley hills behind us, we shot 200 or so images to find one that was passible. We had to adjust because Jacob had a broken arm, so we put that hand behind us. We couldn’t get Thomas to smile, he had a cold, and two days later would be taken to the ER for an asthma attack on Ashley’s Birthday. And he’d go back the night after that. 4 trips to the ER in 30 days. But darn it, we were going to get our Christmas card. 

We worked hard for that picture, the stress of life hidden behind our eyes and lying though our exposed teeth. A year ago we blew that picture up and placed it over our fireplace, to remind us of the beauty of our family in good and bad times. People come over and they comment on the beautiful picture, but I can’t look at it without seeing the broken arm, the nights spent screaming in pain, the birthday Ashley spent in the ER. It wasn’t until about a month ago that Ashley told me she spotted, in the upper right hand corner of the picture the blue port-a-potty. We went for a posed portrait and left with a snapshot of real life.

This Christmas, that photo hangs proudly above the mantle that holds the manger scene and Christmas stockings, including the stocking for our baby girl who knows nothing yet of this world. 

The Church, along with her parents, will help her grow, asking her “What’s your plan”, and holding her to high standards out of love. She, in turn, will hold us to high standards, out of the same love. However you picture it, it will be full of love.  

Sometimes the truth even more beautiful than the story.   

Amen.

Govn't still resting on the 7th day: A call to prayer

The Hebrew creation poem states that on the 7th day God rested; and it was good. 

But our government is not working after 7 days of nothing, and for millions of Americans that's bad. If you aren't concerned about that for yourself, you should be for the millions of people who can't eat, sleep, or work because of it.

My wife Ashley works for the WIC Clinic, a government program that gives vouchers to Women, Infants and Children (WIC) to purchase HEALTHY foods in the grocery store. Next trip to the grocery store, keep your eye out for little tabs like this one- they will be where you find bread, fruit, milk, and beans.
The purpose of WIC is to ensure that the most vulnerable people in our society (the children) get the nutrition they need. It works like gangbusters for the people who need it. The women, babies, and children get the food they need to function and stay happy and healthy members of society. Whenever I talk to someone about what my wife does, I almost always get push-back from the person I talk to about how government programs get abused.
In speaking with a church member today on the subject (let's call him Jim), he told me a story of when he saw a woman over-flowing her cart with more milk than she can possibly drink. The story struck Jim as odd so he told it to someone else who told him that the WIC Clinic gives out vouchers to buy milk. He and I assumed that she took the milk and sold it for cash. Now we can assume all kinds of things about what she did with the cash, but more often than not she went to great lengths to sell the milk at a discount because she really needed the money to keep the lights on, or pay the rent, or pay for child care so she could work.

Whenever we talk about government aid agencies, it seems like the conversation always turns to abuse of the system. I think this is for two reasons: (1) many of us have few encounters with government assistance, so our limited ones stand out to us. This is the one that Jim fits in- someone else explained to him what he saw. And (2) we stand to benefit from assuming that abuse is pervasive. The more abuse, the more we can justify defunding. The more abuse, the more we can otherize those receiving aid.

 Look- I work at a church- I've been scammed plenty of times. But by pregnant women? Not mostly. By babies and children? I wish.                

I've got a saying that I hope you can remember-

The Plural of Anecdote is Not Data

A story of abuse does not mean most people are abusing, just the opposite. It wouldn't be a good story if it was normative. Social programs being shut down is the story.

Most of us reading this will never know poverty. We will never get our power shut off or our children taken away for negligence. We will never consider using the services of WIC, or food-stamps, or government assistance because we can do better.

These aren't posh services- they are bare-bones care.

And right now, they are not there. Since I started writing until now, I received a phone call from my wife saying that there are only enough vouchers until the end of the day. She told me this to say that she will be home late in order to fill as many orders as they can, and that now her job is in jeopardy. But this isn't about her job- that is a secondary concern. You should be concerned, as they are, because they know what will happen if their mothers can't get food and formula: the children will go hungry. Maybe more moms will try to breastfeed. But, please, for the ones who can't- pray for them. For them, formula is impossibly expensive. For them as of 5pm today, their support in the WIC program is offline...

Two days ago our church participated in a Poverty Simulation. I played the role of a 21 year old who should be thinking about college. But my character had to drop out and beg for a job to keep the family afloat.
 It sounds ridiculous, but even me, a Pastor, finally learned that poverty doesn't end with the homeless and the jobless. The working poor represents millions in our society, and they need our help. 
They work through the Sabbath just to make ends meet. They work the jobs we would never, and they live lives that we can't imagine. Pray for them.
My church is full of prayer warriors. One woman I visit, Martha, despite her own health issues, always asks me to pray for the children in the world. This time I'm taking Martha's advice. Prayer is free. Prayer is powerful.  We are called to pray. Pray for the babies. Pray for moms and moms-to-be. Pray for health and safety of those most oppressed. Pray for compassion. Pray for school children. Pray for leadership. Pray that God looks down on creation and says, "It is good."

 The sad truth is, millions of people are suffering needlessly. I find it ironic, however, that if the government shuts down for more than a month and my wife gets furloughed, even we would qualify for government assistance. Not that there would be anyone there to grant it...

Join me in prayer this day. 

Science and Religion: A fair fight?

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Explanation of Hiatus

I have been on hiatus for a number of reasons. We bought a house, moved, and discovered that Ashley is pregnant for the third (and final) time! In addition the boys are home for the summer. This means that I am expected to be more entertaining than usual. 

But I've been studying and reading a lot this summer- and I have several blog posts in the writing stage. Most of my work has been trying to understand the world of science. Specifically I'm exploring the fields of particle physics and dabbling a bit in Neurobiology and human consciousness. While I'm nothing of an expert in these fields, in talking to experts I find a great deal of wealth that they have in the conversation.
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You know what I love about science? With every theory or discovery- the big bang, evolution, the God particle- what we now know is always outweighed by our new questions. 

One year ago the so called "God particle" was discovered in Switzerland. Since then, we haven't heard much about it. Why? Two reasons- one, the Large Hardon Collider is offline for repairs; and two, this one proof of the Higgs Boson particle proves the existence of the Higgs Field, which will change the way we look at physics. And thus; we have more questions than answers.

Something I didn't know was that lots of Scientists hate that anyone has called it the "God Particle" because while the discovery of the Higgs Boson particle is really cool, the bigger find is the Higgs field, the (until now) theory that everything in the universe moves through and is effected by this field. The particle known as the "God particle" is a basic building block of the universe that has properties unlike anything else known to humanity. If you speak particle physics you'd say that it is a boson with no spin, electric charge, or color charge. It is also very unstable, decaying into other particles almost immediately.  

So, rather than being limitless and universal, the 'God particle' is obscure and freakishly weak. Hmmmm. I'm not sure I'd name it after God. 

The scientist who is credited with calling the Higgs-Boson particle the 'God particle' is Leon M. Lederman who had this to say about it:

This boson is so central to the state of physics today, so crucial to our final understanding of the structure of matter, yet so elusive, that I have given it a nickname: the God Particle. Why God Particle? Two reasons. One, the publisher wouldn't let us call it the Goddamn Particle, though that might be a more appropriate title, given its villainous nature and the expense it is causing. And two, there is a connection, of sorts, to another book, a much older one...

—p. 22^[5]

That other book is the one that I know something about. We all love to talk about what the book of Genesis talks about and what it doesn't. I feel compelled to point out that Genesis deals with the foundations of our world- but not the universe. The passing attention Genesis gives to the "lights in the sky" was so that humans could chart seasons and cardinal directions. Genesis chapter one is a poem, a prayer honoring Yahweh, who is the God of all that we know. All the Hebrews know was that God created the world. They had no idea that the earth was round, and that the moon was not a star, and that stars were distant suns. They only knew about their world, the small patch of dessert between Egypt and the Far East. 
What they didn't know could fill a warehouse. 
They didn't know that there were different types of blood, that rain forests held cures, that diseases come from bacteria and genetic chromosomes.  
They couldn't tell you how to harness energy or predict the weather (although I'm still not convinced we can do that!). 

But they weren't afraid to write poetry. They weren't afraid to give order and meaning to their lives. They weren't afraid to believe.

So often we lose our place in history. We champion our own time over the past without humbling ourselves before the future. 

Lederman (the 'God-particle' guy) points to the Higgs Boson as crucial to the future of physics. Think of it this way; radio waves were once considered "only interesting in the lab" with no practical function. Now they run everything from satellites, to wireless internet, to cell phones, and let's not forget, NPR. This Higgs Boson could change everything we know about physics over the next 100 years. 


But we still won't know it all. We will still look like unevolved monkeys to future people. Our knowledge will seem so trivial, our science so basic, and our discoveries so unsatisfying. 

Theology will rage on. We will be no closer to appreciating what exists and why it exists, no further in our quest for human perfection, and no longer able to deny that grace alone is practically the only good answer to life's mysteries. 

If there is one thing I don't like about science it is the perception among many that religion is an out-dated waste of time. Many within science portray their best minds against religions dumbest. 

A newspaper headline could read, "Local pastor thinks baby born with third nipple is possessed by Satan; Local doctor disagrees."

This is not a fair fight, and certainly not one that would pass a scientific test. 

Another common misconception is that all Christians- or even most- believe the bible in the inerrant word of God, true to the last drop, and wholly against science/evolution/big bang/higgs boson. 

We ain't all that way. 

We have evolved in our theology, just as others have in science. 

My doctor doesn't use the same medical practices from 1517, and neither do I use all the same theological ones. It saddens me that many intellectuals still compare modern science to ancient theology- but not because they underestimate me or others like me: It saddens me because they underestimate the value of modern theology in the conversation with modern science. 

The next book I'm reading comes from a Theologian and Physics teacher named Phillip Clayton, who is the Dean at Claremont School of Theology in Southern CA. I have met Clayton several times and each time I've been entranced with his work. He is continually searching for a conversation among intellectual equals in both science and religion. 

The truth is that it is easy to look down one's nose at others. It's much harder to ask them what they know/think/believe.


Like the ancient Hebrews, I'm looking for God in the unknown, not because I don't believe in science, but because there will always be mystery, and that's just the way I like it.

Hungry for God's creation

Ashley and I wanted to do something for Lent this year to both test our resolve and help the environment. As former hippies in Berkeley, we've heard a lot about concerns for God's creation can be acted out in one's daily lives.

We compost our food scraps and we recycle; and we try to use products that don't create a lot of trash. We have become more aware of the gas we use and drive more sparingly. Once, after reading how much diapers go into landfills, Ashley researched cloth diapers and we've used them ever since. From reusable zip-lock bags, grocery bags, sandwich bags, produce bags, and even smoothie pouches, we've made a dent into our carbon footprint.


But like many Americans, we were less aware of how exactly our diet impacted the environment: specifically our meat consumption. Saying nothing of the treatment of the animals we consume, we negatively effect the environment every time we eat meat. In an excellent article in The Guardian, John Vidal writes that the "combined climate change emissions of animals bred for their meat were about 18% of the global total – more than cars, planes and all other forms of transport put together."

I read that "a Vegan driving a Hummer does more for the environment than a meat-eater driving a Prius."

I find that to be shockingly profound. I think it would shock a lot of people to realize that the meat they eat is as bad- or worse- than the gas the use.

Perhaps equally shocking is that the world consumes twice as much meat as it did 30 years ago. Twice!

Not only does this effect green house gas emissions, but it also takes more of the Earth's resources. Let me explain. Corn is good. It grows in lots of places and has nutritional value. It's also part of a balanced diet for cows, who eat 8-14 lbs of "cow food" each day. They are killed when they reach three years old, and for argument's sake weigh 1000lbs, 400lbs of which is turned into edible meat. 10lbs a day for three years  is 10,950lbs of food for 400lbs of meat in the grocery store.

 Vidal writes, "other academics have calculated that if the grain fed to animals in western countries were consumed directly by people instead of animals, we could feed at least twice as many people – and possibly far more – as we do now."

And that's just food consumption- not water or land.Land is perhaps the biggest problem that we face. Again, Vidal,

"A Bangladeshi family living off rice, beans, vegetables and fruit may live on an acre of land or less, while the average American, who consumes around 270 pounds of meat a year, needs 20 times that."

20 acres of land to support my eating habits. I feel ashamed. It was then I realized this simple logic: the bigger the animal, the more land they need, food they eat, water they drink, and methane gas the release.

That's why Ashley and I gave up beef and pork. I haven't lost any weight, gained more energy, or lowered my blood pressure. It wasn't about myself. It's about God and our charge to care for God's creation.

Too often we operate out of a "what's in it for me" mentality. Our hotels boast a greener initiative to save money on laundry. Cleaning products boast greener solutions in order to sell more soap. This half-hearted view of saving God's creation will get us no further than a marginally deserved pat on the back.

But if each of us does something as simple as reduce our intake of beef and pork with the conscious intention of helping to save the planet, then we can begin to call ourselves stewards of God's creation.

This is the first step toward a sustainable future. And it's as simple as making more side dishes or ordering a smaller sandwich. Only you can prevent Climate change.

Life's Not Fair

A Sermon inspired by the story of the Prodigal Son parable in Luke 15

To listen to this sermon, click here.

 

I’m Lost.

Maybe you can help me. 

I always thought that God was fair- the kind of ruler whose Judgment is spot on- never to harsh or to lenient- but perfect. God’s decision making skills, God’s leadership, and God’s authority are all never wrong.

But this story- the one from Luke- this “parable” - is about a dad who is a wimp- and about two kids who grew up with a wimp for a dad.

People have been trying to say what this story is about for forever.

Each time someone “figures out” what the story is about, they change the title.

For example, we call this the story of the prodigal son. But some bibles title the prodigal son and his brother, some, this as the forgiving father- and still others, the father and his two sons.

What does this tell me? That we don’t exactly know what this story means.

That’s why I’m lost. Maybe you can help me. 

When Ashley and I were in premarital counseling, we took the Myers Briggs personality test. The same one that I had to take before going to seminary, and the one that Pastor Rinn and I talk about almost daily when we are talking about how to pastor to all of you. 

In that test, Ashley and I came out as exact opposites. Like many clergy before me, I am an ENFP. Like many science-minded people before her, Ashley came out ISTJ.

The pastor who did our counseling encouraged us to go home and- question by question- analyze our differences. 

There is one question that still to this day that we still talk about.

You ready? 

Would you rather have a boss who is fair or kind? Think about it-

At its core, this is a fundamental difference in thinking. On the one hand, a boss who is fair, keeps stability in the office by treating everyone equally all the time. On the other, a boss who is kind, treats every situation and difference as a case unto its own.

Ultimately, the answer about the boss question is really about you- not your boss. Are you fair or kind? Hopefully you lean toward one of those.

If we dig deeper on this self-understanding- we find another truth-

Do you generally treat all people the same, or all differently? 

Are you the scientist, grouping people and ideas into categories to insure order and stability, or are you the artist who refuses to be defined by limits, rules, or laws?

Are you the goody-two-shoes or the prodical?

Are you an older brother or the younger?

And, once you’ve answered that one: think about this- which one is God?

Ultimately, God can’t be both. 

This is the core problem in the story of the prodigal son- of the forgiving father, or the father and his two sons- however you define the parable.

There are two sons. The youngest- the one who is entitled to less- takes his share of the inheritance and leaves. He loses it all. The older son, stays, works hard, and assumes that he will be his father’s favorite because he assumes that his father is like him- fair- not kind.

The younger son- who lives- and indeed- thrives- on the kindness of others- finds himself penniless. So he finds someone in a faraway land to give him a fair job- go feed the pigs. The younger son says- I will go ask for forgiveness, and perhaps I can be a hired hand- not a son, not a slave- but dad’s kindness for me will get me somewhere in the middle.

He goes home. His father runs to him. The father- who gave his son the inheritance BEFORE he died, now welcomes the deadbeat back home, BEFORE the son ever apologizes. The father is a chump.

If I were putting titles on this chapter- I’d be inclined to call it, “The enabling father” or “Two generations of chumps.” As a father myself, I am appalled by this guy’s laissez- faire parenting style. 

That older brother- that one who worked the fields- he wanted his father to be fair to both brothers, regardless of the circumstances. And that’s not what he got. He got –for lack of a better word- screwed. 

NOT ONLY did his brother leave him in charge of the house, the fields, the animals, and their aging father, but NOW his brother comes home, his father welcomes him back. 

So that’s why I’m Lost.

Maybe you can help. 

If I really think about it- if I let my anger at the unfairness fester- I realize that everything that is left on the farm now, contractually, belongs to the Older son- so when the father tells the servants to kill the fatted calf, he’s going into the Older brothers life savings!

It’s one thing to enable the dope, but throw him a party? The greek word for party is euphraimo- like euphoric. Over a dead beat son who came home without an apology? I agree with Craddock when he says

Of course, let the younger son return home. Judaism and Christianity have clear rules to allow sons to return home, but where does it say that the return should include a banquet with music and dancing? Yes, let the prodigal return, but to bread and water, not fatted calf; in sackcloth, not a new robe; wearing ashes, not a new ring; in tears, not in merriment; kneeling, not dancing. Has the party canceled the seriousness of sin and repentance?

I’m lost, maybe you can help me. 

I don’t understand this story. Honestly- I want to give up. This is the most ridiculous parable I’ve ever heard. 

Actually- there’s another parable that bugs me. You know the one about the lost sheep- and the shepherd leaves the 99 sheep to look for the one. What is that about? Is it FAIR to risk the safety and security of 99 to find one? Of course not! Isn’t one sheep within the margin of error? 

The idea of this parable- I think- is that the shepherd is driven by his emotions. In an effort to be kind to the 1, he is irrational and unfair to the 99. 

Obviously, these parables are supposed to help us reflect on God, and how God treats us. But I find myself thinking that God does not usually reward the ones who do all the hard work. In this story, God- the father- rewards the opposite- bad behavior- the same thing with the 99 sheep- he rewards stupidity.

This is the problem that Paul writes about to the early church. The people hear that grace is free, so they keep on sinning. God’s a sucker. Everyone gets grace who wants it. We can take our inheritance, squander it- and recant on our death bed.

It seems to me- that we should all be under the same rules- or laws. And that anyone found guilty before God should have to pay their consequences. Period. End of Sentence.

But that’s just what I think. 

It’s not what I know.

What I know is that if God were fair, and treated us all the same, we would be condemned, because the law always condemns.

What I know is that if I got what I deserve, I might as well enjoy the fatted calf now because it will be the last happy moment of my existence.

What I know is that I am the sheep that wandered away. Lost and confused, I got what I deserved. Going after me is to seemingly reward stupidity.

What I know is the terrible truth about all of humanity. We all want to believe we’re the righteous brother. But we’re all wrong.

We are all prodigal.

What I know- wretched man that I am- is that I need someone to deliver me, to welcome me, even when I don’t deserve it, and even when I’m not fully repentant.  

What I know is that I cannot by my own reason or strength believe in Jesus Christ my Lord, or come to Him. 

What I know is that I’m not, no will I ever be, worthy of Christ’s sacrifice for my sake.  

What I know is that I’m lost.

Only God can help me.