Sermons

July 26, 2020

Eighth Sunday after Pentecost

OK- I’m going to be blatantly honest. It would be disingenuous for me to barrel around the fact that I am not feeling very comforted these days. In fact, a more apt description would be disturbed, disquieted, troubled and here’s the hardest admission – frightened by recent events. I’m guessing that I am not alone in this — especially this past week as Corona virus numbers soar, people are teetering near the edge of homelessness if they don’t get housing assistance, a rogue president acting like a dictator is implementing what looks like a militarized police state along with a slowing down the postal delivery system, upon which, of course, mail in ballots will depend. What a week!  It is hard for me to admit whenever I feel powerless, uncertain of what to do and where to apply my energy for some degree of positive change. So I struggled for quite some time to find a pastoral or prophetic message to address this volatile situation. My usual modus operandi for preaching is to offer a words of hope and possibility with the aim of leaving you less discouraged than when I began.

And that confession is an affirmation that I am being trained by this community in the ways of kindom. One of the most potent lessons I am learning is through the example of others, the power of vulnerability.  Being preceded by preachers Amy Moffit and Mary Mahala, I am humbled by their openness and deep sharing of personal experience during their sermons. This is a growing edge for me! So there it is, I have broken my own pattern, inspired by others within this community to begin this sermon admitting my own weakness rather than my accustomed soldiering through.

July 19, 2020

Seventh Sunday after Pentecost

Good morning Seekers, thank you for the opportunity to share a word with you this morning. I saw the gospel reading for the week, and thought how difficult it would be in part because Jesus tells us it’s meaning, and I wondered what else could say. But then some things started coming up in my spirit. So, I am going to share.

First, let me start with saying a prayer of thanksgiving. God thank you; you call me to rejoice in all circumstances and to give thanks. Yet, I can’t help but ask, how can I rejoice and give thanks knowing that a battle rages on; in the realm of eternity, and on earth, when there’s so much suffering, strife and division? But I recall that my rejoicing is wrapped up in your goodness, and in who you are, and even when I struggle to trust, I trust anyway. So, I give thanks for this wonderful body of believers that I see today. That we would leave this morning encouraged, empowered, and strengthen in Jesus, knowing in him we are all one. Amen

Even though we come from different parts of the world, region, have different skin colors, personalities, ideologies, beliefs, mannerism, intellectual capacity (you name it), I think we are all the same fundamentally; we’re people and I believe that we are all created by God. And so my spirit is troubled because I know that we’re experiencing the consequences of sin; centuries old thinking that is rooted in lies, established by a religious and political system created by men that categorized, divided, oppressed, killed; spiritually and physically the people of God, the precious creation of the Holy One. And sadly, we are all affected; past, present, and future until the coming of our Lord Jesus. I remember when the girls would argue, and when I walked into the room, they’d stopped arguing. I also recall a dream I had a few years ago, there was a storm and people were running around like crazy, then all of the sudden huge white horses with wings descended from the sky, lined up in two rows, and then a cloud came down, everyone stopped what they were doing, and then we all knew, it was Jesus coming back. So, yea, I believe that all these shenanigans, lawlessness, darkness, will cease immediately when Jesus comes back, but in the meantime my heart breaks, I feel anxious most days, I am stressed out, tired, and in the midst of it all, I am strengthened, and in the end I seem to always find my way in God. I guess that’s the sweet paradox of God, tired, yet strengthened.

July 12, 2020

Sixth Sunday after Pentecost

Good morning, Seekers!  As Peter said, my name is Amy Moffitt, and I am both honored and terrified by the opportunity to preach today at Seekers.  As I think most of you know, I visited Seekers once years ago, but I hadn’t been back and wasn’t a part of this community until life circumstances –most notably the global pandemic—had me looking for a community of faith online.  I’ve really enjoyed worshipping with you all, and I count this experience as one of the surprising silver linings of this season.

Since I put it out there that I have a degree from Wesley Seminary, I want to caveat that my emphasis was in pastoral counseling and that I’ve never taken a preaching class.  As for my exegetical approach, I’d like to dignify it by calling it midrash, but essentially it’s just me struggling with and reacting to scripture.  If I am a theologian of any sort, it’s probably more in the school of Woody Allen than Wesley.

Peter mentioned that I put Presby-Cathlo-Episcopa-Mennonite under “denomination” on my seminary application.  Like many of you, my faith journey has taken me down many different paths and exposed me to different kinds of people, different faiths, different perspectives.  I know, as do you all, that there is more than one way to approach any given scripture, and that some of those ways do harm.  I also know that there are ways of doing church that bring an incredible amount of harm, and there are ways of doing church that end up feeling not much like “church” at all.

July 5, 2020

Fifth Sunday after Pentecost

Here is the first part of today’s verses from Paul’s epistle to the church in Rome as paraphrased in The Message[i]:

7^15-16-What I don’t understand about myself is that I decide one way, but then I act another, doing things I absolutely despise. So, if I can’t be trusted to figure out what is best for myself and then do it, it becomes obvious that God’s command is necessary.

^17-20But I need something more! For if I know the law but still can’t keep it, and if the power of sin within me keeps sabotaging my best intentions, I obviously need help! I realize that I don’t have what it takes. I can will it, but I can’t do it. I decide to do good, but I don’t really do it; I decide not to do bad, but then I do it anyway. My decisions, such as they are, don’t result in actions. Something has gone wrong deep within me and gets the better of me every time.

^21-23It happens so regularly that it’s predictable. The moment I decide to do good, sin is there to trip me up. I truly delight in God’s commands, but it’s pretty obvious that not all of me joins in that delight. Parts of me covertly rebel, and just when I least expect it, they take charge.

That describes me pretty well. If you’re honest, doesn’t that describe you too? And all our human institutions:  families, friends, and neighbors; our churches and schools, our businesses, banks, and hospitals; our governments at all levels? Something has gone wrong deep within us and gets the better of us every time.

June 28, 2020

Fourth Sunday after Pentecost

Good morning everyone!  My mission group knows that Zoom meetings have been challenging to me—Sitting on a chair for two hours without the walk into the sanctuary, the standing for hymns and all of the distractions of many faces makes me less attentive than I should be.  But in honor of this technology that allows us to be together, I will make an effort to talk slowly in case one of us has one of those glitches that slows word transmission.  I also have found that switching on Speaker View in the upper right of your Zoom Screen, and even switching off your own video, is what helps me concentrate on Sunday mornings and if you want to do that, I won’t be offended.  But come back for the reflection time so we can see your face!

The Shocking Story of the Near-Sacrifice of Isaac

When you heard today’s lectionary or read the complete selection on line, which one stuck in your head?  Was it Psalm 13:  “How long, O Lord?  Will you forget me forever?  How long will you hide your face from me?”

I doubt it.  It was that Abraham and Isaac story.   I had only heard the kid’s version of this story for much of my life.  A man was trying so hard to listen to God, that he was willing to offer up his own son in sacrifice to God.  At age 34, I started seminary at Virginia Theological Seminary.  I had two young children, and Julia was on the way.  My first impression of reading this story in depth in seminary was:  “What kind of father would take his son up a mountain to sacrifice him?  A monster?  A sadist?  Someone mentally ill?”  I saw the act in my mind’s eye as in Rembrandt’s famous painting of Abraham’s Sacrifice.