In preparation for our (rescheduled) congregational annual meeting today, today we’re looking at two questions: What is our message, and how do we proclaim it?
Here’s my sermon for the 5th Sunday of Epiphany, on Isaiah 40:21-31, 1 Corinthians 9:16-23, and Mark 1:29-39 for February 7, 2021.
Grace to you and peace, from the One who was, who is, and who is to come, Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen
If you listened to last week’s sermon, you might have noticed I was trying to preach an “annual meeting” sermon. Honestly, one of the reasons I was frustrated we had to postpone the meeting (which was absolutely the right call by the way – it was nasty out!) was because I thought I had this great angle to preach about for the meeting.
I thought of just moving that sermon to this week and doing last week’s readings today, but by the time we realized we needed to cancel, I didn’t have time to come up with a different sermon for last week.
But, I actually really like the lessons we have today as preparation for an annual meeting. And even if you’re not able to come to the meeting this year, I think the message in these readings is still relevant for everyone in our congregation.
Today’s readings all address the question of why we exist as church, what we have to offer the world. Specifically, I think they answer two questions: What is our message, and how do we proclaim it?
What is our message?
Look at the first lesson from Isaiah: The prophet asks, “Have you not known? Have you not heard? The Lord is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth.”
That’s the heart of our message. The Lord is God, the One who created the heavens and the earth. God is God. God is creator. God is in charge. You and I are not god, but we know who God is.
Isaiah goes on to describe God: “God does not faint or grow weary; his understanding is unsearchable. He gives power to the faint and strengthens the powerless…those who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength, they shall mount up with wings like eagles, they shall run and not grow weary, they shall walk and not faint.”
This is good news! God is big. We serve a big, amazing, awesome, almighty God, and this God we serve gives us strength! Strength to get through the day, strength to keep going when life feels overwhelming, strength to persevere.
The Psalm says God is worthy of praise, because God is gracious. The Lord heals the brokenhearted, and binds up their wounds, giving food to the animals, lifting up the downtrodden. Our hope is placed in God, and God is worthy.
That’s the first part of our message.
The second part of our message—the Christian proclamation—is that this big, almighty, unsearchable deity is knowable. God has come to earth in Jesus Christ. Jesus is God in the flesh, God with skin on. Jesus is the object of our hope.
Jesus is the proof of God’s love for us. So the distinctive proclamation of Christians for two thousand years is that Jesus is Lord, Lord over everything.
Jesus is Lord over death, over the world, Lord over empires and nations. And it’s a personal proclamation: It’s not only that Jesus is Lord, it’s that Jesus is my Lord. Jesus is the Lord of my life, and Jesus wants to be Lord of your life.
That’s our message. We exist as a church because we have something to say. God has given us a message to share with the world. We are ambassadors for God’s kingdom, charged with spreading the hope we’ve found to a hurting and broken world. God the Holy Spirit gathers us together, whether it’s online or in a park, or in a church building, week after week to hear that message, and to respond by going out and proclaiming to the world: Jesus is Lord. God is knowable, and God loves us. God loves you.
It’s not our message; it’s God’s message given to us, trusted to us to share. Sometimes I look at the church and all the mistakes we’ve made and how often we’ve failed to proclaim the message, and the ways the church throughout history has corrupted this Gospel message and twisted this good news into something else, and I wonder what God was thinking, but this is the way God has chosen to do it. We are the way God has chosen to do it. We carry the message of God.
So as Paul says, proclaiming the Gospel doesn’t make us great; it just makes us faithful. In fact, if we’re getting rich off of the Gospel—and some churches and pastors do—if we’re getting lots of political power—and some Christians use the Gospel for that too—if we’re gaining earthly prizes for proclaiming God’s message, we’re missing the point.
I’ve said this before, and I expect I’ll say some version of it every year around annual meeting time, but if we start caring more about our own benefit than about our neighbors, more about our church institution’s survival than about the difference we’re making in the world, we might as well pack it up and go home.
I think there should be a motion at every congregational meeting for the congregation to close, so that we have the chance to vote no and say “We’re not done yet; we still want to be a church. We still want to be part of what God is doing here in Greene, in Iowa, in the world. We still want the burden of proclaiming the good news that Jesus is Lord to our neighbors.” Because it can be a hard message to proclaim.
Proclaiming the Gospel, proclaiming Jesus is Lord and God is the creator of the ends of the earth is inherently challenging, because if God is God, then you and I are not God. If Jesus is Lord, then we are not in charge. If we’re going to say Jesus is our Good Shepherd, then we also have to say we are the flock, the sheep, the followers.
So if everyone in the neighborhood respects us, if no one is ever challenged or even a little bit offended by our proclamation, we’re probably not being bold enough. Inviting people to become sheep and to follow a leader is a tough sell!
Our world and our culture like to tell us we are the most important thing, that the world revolves around us. I’ve heard some of the ads this afternoon during the Super Bowl are supposed to feel a little different this year, less focused on selling and more sensitive to the pandemic. I’ll believe it when I see it. If you’re watching this afternoon (and my Packers lost, so at this point who cares!), but if you’re watching, pay attention to the message companies are trying to sell you.
I’m sure there will be a bunch of thanking frontline healthcare heroes, and that’s good, but the ultimate message is generally going to be that you are not enough…but you could be if you buy our product. This truck will give you control. This drink will let you be in charge. This tax software will get you what you deserve.
Our message is different. The Gospel message is about giving up control, about following the example of the one who gave himself up for us and for the world. Our message is that we are not in charge. We are followers. Jesus is Lord, not us. As Paul says, “Woe to me if I do not proclaim the Gospel!”
Paul continues with a message we need to hear today as much as ever: What’s important is the message, not the means by which we proclaim it. If we were singing today, I’d suggest we sing “I Love to Tell the Story” because I love its image of singing a new, new song to tell the old, old story.
Paul makes it clear that in different circumstances and for different audiences, the way the good news is presented needs to change. When he speaks to Jews, he says, he became a Jew, he uses Jewish language, he explains who Jesus is in a way that the Jewish people can hear and understand, since they already worship God.
But when he speaks to gentiles, to non-Jewish people, the category he labels as “those outside the law,” he uses different language to speak in a way they can hear and understand.
Part of Paul’s genius is his ability to recognize different people are starting from different places, and he adapts his message accordingly. Verse 22: “To the weak I became weak, so that I might win the weak. I have become all things to all people, that I might by all means save some.”
What a great example for us to follow as a 21st century church! I wonder, what in the way we proclaim the old, old story of the good news of Jesus needs to change in this changing world?
How can we adapt and recognize that our neighbors are starting from different places in their relationships with God, in their understanding of church, in their knowledge of faith?
This is hard for me, because I was raised in the Lutheran church. My family were the ones who were at worship every Sunday. I think there were even years when I got awards in Sunday School for perfect attendance. I was that kid. My mom is currently on church council.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful to have grown up in church, but I catch myself falling into the trap sometimes of thinking everyone else has the same kind of background, that people should just know how a hymnal works, or what church words like communion or salvation or sin mean, and that’s just not the case for lots of people. People learn differently. People worship differently. How can we meet them where they are?
In this last year with the pandemic, I’ve tried to be more aware that people are watching online who don’t often make it into the building for worship, but I still have a long way to go. It’s hard sometimes to remember that our job is to proclaim the good news that Jesus is Lord in a way people can hear, not to get people to fit into the way we are used to do things.
One of my hopes for our congregation is that in this year when we know many people are out of the habit of coming to worship, we can take a look at what we can change to make worship more accessible, more welcoming, more meaningful for our neighbors, worth coming back to.
Two more things to note, both from Mark’s Gospel.
First, look at Jesus’ example, how he himself proclaims the good news of the Lord: He heals people. First he goes to the synagogue, the place of studying, of being fed with God’s word, where we are right now, and then he leaves the synagogue and goes to be with someone in need, and he helps her. He heals her.
In this case, it’s Peter’s mother-in-law, and by the way, did you know Peter was married? I’d love to hear some more of Peter’s wife’s story, but none of the Gospel writers seem to feel the need to give us anything about her.
Anyway, Jesus heals Peter’s mother-in-law, who responds by getting up and getting to work, serving her family, loving her neighbors. Then more and more people come to Jesus, and he heals them too. Proclaiming that Jesus is Lord, that the Lord is the everlasting God, the one in charge, looks like making a practical difference for people in need. We do that as church too.
Second, look what else Jesus does in this story: He goes and prays. Even Jesus himself needs to spend intentional time with his Father. So do we. Everything we do as a church needs to be grounded in prayer.
Again, I’m not as good at that as I wish I was. This is hard to say as a pastor, but sometimes I’m better at talking about prayer than at actually praying. But if praying is talking with God, and we’re here as a church to do God’s work, to proclaim God’s message, then we better be talking with God and listening to what God wants us to do.
So as we enter a new year for our congregation, let’s remember we have something to say: Jesus is Lord. Let’s grow this year in how we proclaim that message. And let’s pray. Right now: Let’s pray.
Good and gracious God, you have called us to be your hands and feet in the world, to be ambassadors for your kingdom. Gather us together as a community of faith, that we may encourage and support one another, and send us out to bear your creative and redeeming word to all the world. Give us hope, confidence, and a living and daring faith in you as our Creator, Redeemer, Sustainer, and Lord.
Amen