@EUCC Sermons

Shocking, but true--your Senior Minister placed 3rd in the Northeast Iowa Future Farmers of America (FFA) Weed ID competition in the spring of 1978. Over 100 FFA members from all over Northeast Iowa participated in that event. The competition was hosted by the Manchester Chapter of the FFA, and held on a farm just outside of the city limits, which was owned by a family whose son was a member of that chapter.

This third place finish may not be my most notable accomplishment in life, but at the time it was a very meaningful win for me. Here’s why: my classmate Jan Mumm and I, who were registered for this competition, were never meant to be attending the event, much less competing in this contest. 

Girls weren’t supposed to enroll in ag classes or join FFA--at least not prior to the passage of Title 9 in 1972, in many people’s minds. And, even though the year of this Weed ID competition was 1978, it took most educational institutions more than a hot minute to implement Title 9 practices. As an example, Jan and I were the first two girls in the 100 year history of Reinbeck High School to enroll in Vocational Agriculture classes and the first two to join our local FFA chapter. Laws were passed and Educational Codes were changed in 1972, but attitudes about the inclusion of girls in so-called “boy’s activities” were slow to evolve. 

The 11 boys in Voc Ag I treated us decently, but Jan and I were the talk of the town among adults that year. Some went so far as to opine that our involvement in these so-called “boys activities” were further evidence of the breakdown of traditional gender roles and the devolution of American society. (Yes, we were very powerful teenagers.)

As we crack open today’s gospel reading, we find Jesus on a national evangelism tour. Much like candidates running for political office, we find Jesus hitting all the major venues where crowds are gathering, e.g., state fairs, holiday celebrations, and large family reunions. Unlike modern political candidates, though, he did not travel in private jets or luxury tour buses, and he didn’t tell people what they wanted to hear. He migrated on foot, and described the cost of discipleship. Who would vote for him? Who would volunteer for his campaign?

Answer: not many. Jesus invited listeners to share the yoke of ministry with him—by feeding the hungry, healing the sick, and welcoming the stranger. His vision was profound, and his invitation compelling, but very few enlisted. Why?

For starters, Jesus’ lifestyle was what you might call “counter cultural.” He lived in a society that determined identity and status by what, when, and with whom one ate. John the Baptist and Jesus presented themselves as conspicuously unacceptable.

Today’s gospel reading is a reminder that Jesus and his most faithful disciples were not in the marketing business. If they had ever taken a marketing class, they would have flunked it. Amen? 

No one with ambition sets out to launch a marketing campaign for their new product or service with publicity like the messaging Jesus shares in Matthew chapter 10.

Given pronouncements like this, I’ve always found it amazing that Christianity survived beyond the first century AD. 

My former colleague, Jim Crawfod, at the Old South Church in Boston, used to scoff at UCC evangelism campaigns that borrowed heavily from Madison Avenue. “The Gospel was never intended to be popular,” Jim would say, when he would see a flier promoting the latest so-called evangelism campaigns, which he saw as being designed more for the purpose of putting butts in pews than follow the example and teachings of Christ. 

Psalm 116 is a psalm of praise. The author and singers are praising God for listening to them. In particular, they are praising God for hearing and responding to their prayers for healing. In verses 1 and 2, we hear them singing:

I love God because he has heard my voice and my supplications. Because she inclined her ear to me,…I will call on her as long as I live.

Clearly the psalmist is pleased to have recovered from illness, but that is not all. The psalmist is deeply grateful that God has heard their voice, and their supplications--their pleas for healing.

Have you ever prayed for something so fervently that you would describe your prayers as supplications? More importantly, have you felt that those prayers were heard by God, or by anyone?

The primary text for today’s sermon is taken from the book of Psalms, chapter 8. The book of Psalms was Israel’s hymnal. It was a collection of our ancient ancestors' 150 favorite hymns that survived through the aural tradition, earthquake, wind, fire, flood, foreign invasion, and several general editors’ chopping blocks.

If you open your pew Bible to the exact center, you will find Psalm 100. If you thumb through the Psalms, you’ll notice that only the lyrics are provided for the songs. There are no notes for keyboard or woodwind instruments, and no cords for stringed instruments.

This lyrics-only version of the Psalms is similar to the slide versions of the hymns that Pastor Pepper prepares for Sunday worship and that Dawn Coburn makes magically appear at just the right time during the service.

The Easter narrative culminates in the Acts of the Apostles with Jesus explaining that we followers of him are the ones we’ve been waiting for, and that today is the day to restore the kin-dom of God on earth. 

His message is just that simple, and just that challenging. It’s easy to psych ourselves out by doubting our power and denying our ability or authority to change the things that can be changed. But every once in a while, we get our acts together and show up like the modern day apostles that we are capable of being. . .

Erstwhile Emory University Professor Emeritus Fred Craddock explains in his commentary on Esther that this OT book is technically an Israelite novella rather than a book, per se. The novella’s historical context was the reign of King Xerxes, who reigned over Persia (now known as Iran) from 485-464 BC.1 The names were changed to protect the innocent. Xerxes’ pseudonym in the Hebrew Bible is Ahasuerus.

This novella illustrates and affirms the ingenuity and faithfulness of the eastern Diaspora, who like the protagonist Queen Esther, persevered in spite of the persecution that they endured 400 hundred years before the birth of Christ.

This novella also serves as the basis for one of the lesser Jewish holidays known as the Feast of Purim, which celebrates Israel’s delivery from persecution. This holiday is usually celebrated during a 24-hour period in the month of March.

The name “Purim” for this holiday is derived from the root “pur,” which means “lots.” In the novella, King Ahasuerus’ lead military advisor, Haman, proposed that the date for a pogrom against the Jews be determined by casting pur (or lots). Hence the festival is called Purim.

Forty-two years ago this spring, my twin sister, Marlene, and I graduated high school, and decided to celebrate our last summer together by driving to Daytona Beach, Florida to visit our former pastor and his family who had moved there the year before.

Willie Nelson’s hit song, “On the Road Again,” was playing on every radio station in the nation. That song became our theme for the summer. Every time we heard it playing on the radio, we busted out singing it together. We’ve talked about this road trip so much, my nieces could tell it for us and make it sound like they had traveled with us.

Mar and I loaded up my Honda Civic with our suitcases and sleeping bags, a pup tent borrowed from our youth advisors, and a bag of charcoal and a pint of lighter fluid. We intended to eat cold cereal for breakfast, fast food for lunch, and camp and cook at KOAs for supper.

Our mother packed us a huge picnic lunch consisting of tuna fish sandwiches, grapes, and chocolate chip cookies. She also threw in two cans of pork and beans for supper. Unfortunately we forgot to pack a can opener.

The protagonist in today’s gospel reading is a character commonly referred to as “Doubting Thomas.” Many of us identify with him because we are skeptics by nature, or we go through long periods of doubt about the existence of God or the divinity of Jesus, or a whole bunch of other things that we think we are supposed to believe.

If you’re one in that number, then this sermon is especially for you.

So that there are no surprises, I adamantly disagree with the assumption that doubting is incompatible with faithfulness. On the contrary, I believe that doubts and questions are essential to the development of a mature and authentic faith. They are grist for the mill. Asking and exploring questions are a way by which we can grow in the faith, rather them being evidence of a lack of faith.

Doubting and questioning also put us in good company with Jesus’ first followers and Christians throughout history.

Furthermore, the Apostle Thomas has been largely misunderstood in popular culture, and as a result, he has been inappropriately maligned for his willingness to articulate the doubts and questions that were, and often still are, on most people’s minds.

The way that John tells the story, Mary Magdalene went early to the tomb to prepare Jesus’ body for burial. But when she got to the cemetery, she found the stone rolled away and the tomb empty.

So she ran to Peter and John and told them that someone had stolen Jesus’ body, and she didn’t know where they had taken him. The two men ran back to the tomb with Mary in hopes of finding out what happened to Jesus’ body.

Grave robbing was a thing back then, so some--maybe most--of the disciples thought that Jesus' tomb had been ransacked and his body removed by thieves.

But according to John’s gospel, the beloved disciple had a different view. John reached the tomb first, went in, confirmed that the body was missing, but instead of assuming that his body had been stolen, John announced that Christ had risen.

If you are listening or reading closely, you will note that the messiah is described as riding on both a donkey and a colt. Did you catch that point?

Perhaps you, like me, are familiar with the old adage: you can’t ride two horses. Now a horse is not a donkey, and a colt is not a mature donkey, but all three are beasts of burden. So we are left to wonder if Zechariah truly envisioned the messiah riding on both a donkey and a colt.

These subtleties in the Bible are lost on urban people, but country people like me know that you shouldn’t ride a horse or put any significant weight on the back of a draft animal until it’s at least three years old. You could injure the animal and negatively affect the health and growth of it.

Given this fact, I think it’s unlikely that Jesus actually rode two animals in the first Palm Sunday parade. Instead, I suspect that he rode the donkey, and that the colt tagged along at its mother’s side. Here’s why: