A Time to Answer: Where Do You Live?
Sermon
Love Is Your Disguise
Second Lesson Sermons For Lent/Easter
Where do you live? It's a question we ask sometimes. Where's your home? Where are you from? Where's home? is a good question. Sometimes, though folks live one place, if you ask them where is home, they will say someplace else, because home is where their parents live. Home is where they spent most of their life journey. Where do you live? Where's home?
346 Pattie Drive was home for us when I was young -- a street of ranch-style houses with shingles on the side. A few doors down, there was a family with a color television, and when our relations were good they'd invite us to come over and see The Wonderful World of Color. It was a place where a man delivered milk and juice to our door and where sometimes the Fuller Brush man stopped. Where's your home? 346 Pattie Drive is near Cleveland, near Baldwin-Wallace College. Did you grow up on a farm? in a different state? in a different country?
In many towns across our land an interesting phenomenon takes place: the North/South High School basketball game. Change the names of the schools and maybe even the sport, and the time-honored tradition of the sports rivalry is played out over and over. Where do you live? Where is your home? Where do your children go to school? Where's your loyalty? Oh, how important it is to know where your children go to school: to North or to South High School, until maybe you are a thousand miles from home and someone says to you, "Where's your home; where are you from?"
"Ohio? I'm from Ohio, too! What a great place."
We have friends from that state up north (Michigan). I must say that my Ohio State Buckeye fan father was probably one who strained to be friends with folks from that state, but I have seen the error of his ways. But even for the most ardent like my dad, if you put him halfway around the world stationed with U.S. armed forces, he'd say: "You from Michigan? Well, I'm from the Midwest, too!"
Where are you from? Where is your home?
Jesus has something to say to us about this as well. "Abide in me and I in you, as the branch cannot bear fruit by itself unless it abides in the vine. Neither can you unless you abide in me." Where is your home? He is your home. "Abide in me."
When I was a child I was so proud to have learned my address: 346 Pattie Drive. I located myself in that community, which I thought was my entire world.
We are a campus church. When students come to campus we ask, "Where is your home?"
For a while they tell us about their hometown, but after they have been on campus for a few quarters, they respond: "I live in the Hanby dorm." Where is your home?
"Well, I grew up on a farm. Oh, what I'd give to be back there these days -- to see the spring, to see the sun shine across the fields at dawn."
In a recent adventure film, a fellow was thrown by dastardly villains out of an airplane. He falls, and with increasing panic, tries to get his parachute open, with little success. Finally nearing the ground, the chute pops open. The fellow, at a speed too fast for human health, lands crashing on top of a junked car. A brother and sister playing nearby are startled and look up. From on top of the car the parachuter sees the children. "Where am I?" he asks.
With widening eyes the little girl responds, "Earth -- welcome!"
Where is your home?
In today's text, Peter is concerned with where you live, how you live, and the conditions under which you live. Peter is writing to first century Christians and to us. In the first century, Christians were undergoing great hardship; Rome had been burned and the Emperor Nero was severely persecuting the Christians whom he suspected of the arson.
Peter writes: "Beloved, do not be surprised at the fiery ordeal which comes upon you to prove you, as though something strange were happening to you. But rejoice in so far as you share Christ's sufferings, that you may also rejoice and be glad when his glory is revealed" (1 Peter 4:12-13). His words encourage these Christians who are in the midst of a terrible situation, and assure them that their suffering has meaning. Suffering gives them even greater grounding as followers of Christ and connects them even more intimately with the glory of God.
We often do not have ultimate control over very significant parts of our lives: our health, our relationships, our employment, the length of our lives. Peter instructs us to live in our circumstances with hope and confidence, and when suffering comes to know that suffering connects us even more fully to God.
Jesus sent out seventy disciples, two by two, and he said to them, "Whatsoever house you enter into, there abide, there live" (see Luke 10:1-7). Jesus was traveling through Jericho with a great throng around him. A certain man not large of stature wanted to see Jesus. He perched in a sycamore tree to improve his view.
Jesus seeing him in the tree said, "Zacchaeus come down from there." He said, "Zacchaeus come down from there, for today I must abide in your house" (see Luke 19:2-5). Abide in me and I in thee which is to say, live in the place where life brings you, and be assured that in each circumstance, in joy and in sorrow, in happiness and in suffering, I abide with thee.
After the resurrection, there were two travelers on the road talking about the things which had occurred in Jerusalem -- about how Jesus had been crucified, had been laid in a tomb, and had been raised on the third day. A stranger came upon these travelers and walked with them.
They explained to him the recent events at Jerusalem. The stranger in turn explained to the two travelers how this was the fulfillment of the Word and opened for them the scriptures. As they drew near to the village of Emmaus, the destination of the two, the stranger appeared to be going on farther. They said to him, "Come, abide with us, for it is toward evening and the day is far spent."
So the stranger went to stay with them. And as they shared a meal, the stranger made himself known to them, revealing himself to be Jesus, in the breaking of the bread (Luke 24:13-31).
Abide with me and I with thee. Where is your home? Your home is in him. Your home, in him. In the fourteenth chapter of John, Jesus tells his disciples: "Let not your hearts be troubled; believe in God, believe also in me. In my father's house are many abiding places. If it were not so would I have told you that I go to prepare an abiding place for you? And when I go and prepare an abiding place for you, I will come again and will receive you unto myself, that where I abide, you may abide also" (see John 14:1-3).
Where is your home? Where is your heart's true home?
Today we address two key concerns. First: Where's your home? Where will you abide? The second:
The father is the vine dresser and there is some pruning that happens and suffering which occurs.
Do you know certain plants prune themselves? If a branch is useless, it dies off and falls to the ground. But there are other plants that need to be pruned, and this pruning is never pleasant. They need a vine dresser or a gardener to do the pruning. And pruning is more than shaping.
When I was a little fellow, my dad used to be my barber. There was always relative chaos in our family when my dad would try to cut our hair (there were three boys). My mother would supervise and have too many opinions. She would stand looking over my father's shoulder, trying to tell him what to do, and his work on our hair was never satisfactory. So sometimes we would go around for a while with half a haircut because he would simply get frustrated and stop. "Okay, you do it! I'm done!" he'd say handing her the scissors.
Now that I am older and have a choice, I pay to have my hair cut. I loved one barber I had as an adult. This fellow was funny and I enjoyed talking to him, yet sometimes he would forget what he was doing. His scissors would begin to work on my ears. I couldn't stay with him. It didn't matter how much I loved him, because he was pruning more than barbering. Pruning is more than shaping.
Fred Craddock writes: Jesus' message is clear -- My Father is the vine dresser. "The vine dresser comes into the vineyard with a knife and every plant is severely cut. Some are cut away because they are fruitless." Some are pruned ... in order to be more fruitful. "But how are we to know the difference?" Craddock asks. These experiences are painful. It is often the case that pruning, severing a debilitating branch, causing the loss of a burdensome thing or meaningless pursuit, is understood as being estranged from God -- leaving believers angry, confused and hurt. Perhaps even the early church, facing difficulties as it was, needed to be taught that they could be facing pruning, for greater fruitfulness, and suffering, to be more fully grounded in Christ.1 Churches that move through hardships often find increased commitment to mission, find power and vision because they have been pruned, because they have suffered, because they have become more fully grounded in Christ.
Or think of Jesus' story: A lawyer stood up and questioned him. "Teacher, what shall we do to inherit eternal life?"
Jesus said to him, "What is written in the law, how do you read?" He answered, "You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your strength, and with all your mind. And your neighbor as yourself." And Jesus said to him, "You have answered right. Do this and you will live." But desiring to justify himself, he said to Jesus, "Who is my neighbor?" And Jesus told the story -- the very familiar one. A man was going down the road from Jerusalem to Jericho and he fell among robbers and he was stripped and beaten.
And they left him for dead. Now by chance a priest was going down that road ... you know the story. And then came a Levite down that road and looked upon the man ... you know that story. But then a Samaritan came down that road and he looked upon that man and he took pity on him (Luke 10:25-37).
Oh, people of God, is it not true that sometimes God prunes away things which confuse us, which cause our lives to be diminished and the Church to be diminished? Is it not true that God takes our suffering and grounds us in Jesus to help us see with the eyes that Jesus saw? Lest we walk down the road and leave the one who has been beaten and broken in the ditch?
Where is our home? Do we think our home is at 346 Pattie Drive or some such address? Because of our grounding in Christ, is our field of vision bigger? In the words of the lyricist, "O Lord my God, when I in awesome wonder consider all the worlds thy hands have made. I see the stars, I hear the rolling thunder, thy power throughout the universe displayed. Then sings my soul, my Savior God to thee, How great thou art!"2
Where is your home? Is your home with him? Is your home in him? Is there pruning? -- Yes. Is there suffering? -- Yes. Is there glory and power throughout the universe displayed -- Yes! Does our suffering ground us more fully in Christ? -- Yes. Does our suffering connect us even more intimately with God? -- Yes.
Where is your home? Where is your heart's true home? Abide in me and I with thee. I live with Jesus and so do you, and he lives with us. He prunes us and shapes us and frees us even in suffering to be fruitful. Thanks be to God who abides with us.
____________
1. Fred B. Craddock, John H. Hayes, Carl R. Holladya, Gene M. Tucker, Preaching The New Common Lectionary, Year B: Lent, Holy Week, Easter (Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1984), pp. 204-205.
2. "How Great Thou Art," words and music by Stuart K. Hine, Burbank, CA: Manna Music, 1953, no. 77, The United Methodist Hymnal.
346 Pattie Drive was home for us when I was young -- a street of ranch-style houses with shingles on the side. A few doors down, there was a family with a color television, and when our relations were good they'd invite us to come over and see The Wonderful World of Color. It was a place where a man delivered milk and juice to our door and where sometimes the Fuller Brush man stopped. Where's your home? 346 Pattie Drive is near Cleveland, near Baldwin-Wallace College. Did you grow up on a farm? in a different state? in a different country?
In many towns across our land an interesting phenomenon takes place: the North/South High School basketball game. Change the names of the schools and maybe even the sport, and the time-honored tradition of the sports rivalry is played out over and over. Where do you live? Where is your home? Where do your children go to school? Where's your loyalty? Oh, how important it is to know where your children go to school: to North or to South High School, until maybe you are a thousand miles from home and someone says to you, "Where's your home; where are you from?"
"Ohio? I'm from Ohio, too! What a great place."
We have friends from that state up north (Michigan). I must say that my Ohio State Buckeye fan father was probably one who strained to be friends with folks from that state, but I have seen the error of his ways. But even for the most ardent like my dad, if you put him halfway around the world stationed with U.S. armed forces, he'd say: "You from Michigan? Well, I'm from the Midwest, too!"
Where are you from? Where is your home?
Jesus has something to say to us about this as well. "Abide in me and I in you, as the branch cannot bear fruit by itself unless it abides in the vine. Neither can you unless you abide in me." Where is your home? He is your home. "Abide in me."
When I was a child I was so proud to have learned my address: 346 Pattie Drive. I located myself in that community, which I thought was my entire world.
We are a campus church. When students come to campus we ask, "Where is your home?"
For a while they tell us about their hometown, but after they have been on campus for a few quarters, they respond: "I live in the Hanby dorm." Where is your home?
"Well, I grew up on a farm. Oh, what I'd give to be back there these days -- to see the spring, to see the sun shine across the fields at dawn."
In a recent adventure film, a fellow was thrown by dastardly villains out of an airplane. He falls, and with increasing panic, tries to get his parachute open, with little success. Finally nearing the ground, the chute pops open. The fellow, at a speed too fast for human health, lands crashing on top of a junked car. A brother and sister playing nearby are startled and look up. From on top of the car the parachuter sees the children. "Where am I?" he asks.
With widening eyes the little girl responds, "Earth -- welcome!"
Where is your home?
In today's text, Peter is concerned with where you live, how you live, and the conditions under which you live. Peter is writing to first century Christians and to us. In the first century, Christians were undergoing great hardship; Rome had been burned and the Emperor Nero was severely persecuting the Christians whom he suspected of the arson.
Peter writes: "Beloved, do not be surprised at the fiery ordeal which comes upon you to prove you, as though something strange were happening to you. But rejoice in so far as you share Christ's sufferings, that you may also rejoice and be glad when his glory is revealed" (1 Peter 4:12-13). His words encourage these Christians who are in the midst of a terrible situation, and assure them that their suffering has meaning. Suffering gives them even greater grounding as followers of Christ and connects them even more intimately with the glory of God.
We often do not have ultimate control over very significant parts of our lives: our health, our relationships, our employment, the length of our lives. Peter instructs us to live in our circumstances with hope and confidence, and when suffering comes to know that suffering connects us even more fully to God.
Jesus sent out seventy disciples, two by two, and he said to them, "Whatsoever house you enter into, there abide, there live" (see Luke 10:1-7). Jesus was traveling through Jericho with a great throng around him. A certain man not large of stature wanted to see Jesus. He perched in a sycamore tree to improve his view.
Jesus seeing him in the tree said, "Zacchaeus come down from there." He said, "Zacchaeus come down from there, for today I must abide in your house" (see Luke 19:2-5). Abide in me and I in thee which is to say, live in the place where life brings you, and be assured that in each circumstance, in joy and in sorrow, in happiness and in suffering, I abide with thee.
After the resurrection, there were two travelers on the road talking about the things which had occurred in Jerusalem -- about how Jesus had been crucified, had been laid in a tomb, and had been raised on the third day. A stranger came upon these travelers and walked with them.
They explained to him the recent events at Jerusalem. The stranger in turn explained to the two travelers how this was the fulfillment of the Word and opened for them the scriptures. As they drew near to the village of Emmaus, the destination of the two, the stranger appeared to be going on farther. They said to him, "Come, abide with us, for it is toward evening and the day is far spent."
So the stranger went to stay with them. And as they shared a meal, the stranger made himself known to them, revealing himself to be Jesus, in the breaking of the bread (Luke 24:13-31).
Abide with me and I with thee. Where is your home? Your home is in him. Your home, in him. In the fourteenth chapter of John, Jesus tells his disciples: "Let not your hearts be troubled; believe in God, believe also in me. In my father's house are many abiding places. If it were not so would I have told you that I go to prepare an abiding place for you? And when I go and prepare an abiding place for you, I will come again and will receive you unto myself, that where I abide, you may abide also" (see John 14:1-3).
Where is your home? Where is your heart's true home?
Today we address two key concerns. First: Where's your home? Where will you abide? The second:
The father is the vine dresser and there is some pruning that happens and suffering which occurs.
Do you know certain plants prune themselves? If a branch is useless, it dies off and falls to the ground. But there are other plants that need to be pruned, and this pruning is never pleasant. They need a vine dresser or a gardener to do the pruning. And pruning is more than shaping.
When I was a little fellow, my dad used to be my barber. There was always relative chaos in our family when my dad would try to cut our hair (there were three boys). My mother would supervise and have too many opinions. She would stand looking over my father's shoulder, trying to tell him what to do, and his work on our hair was never satisfactory. So sometimes we would go around for a while with half a haircut because he would simply get frustrated and stop. "Okay, you do it! I'm done!" he'd say handing her the scissors.
Now that I am older and have a choice, I pay to have my hair cut. I loved one barber I had as an adult. This fellow was funny and I enjoyed talking to him, yet sometimes he would forget what he was doing. His scissors would begin to work on my ears. I couldn't stay with him. It didn't matter how much I loved him, because he was pruning more than barbering. Pruning is more than shaping.
Fred Craddock writes: Jesus' message is clear -- My Father is the vine dresser. "The vine dresser comes into the vineyard with a knife and every plant is severely cut. Some are cut away because they are fruitless." Some are pruned ... in order to be more fruitful. "But how are we to know the difference?" Craddock asks. These experiences are painful. It is often the case that pruning, severing a debilitating branch, causing the loss of a burdensome thing or meaningless pursuit, is understood as being estranged from God -- leaving believers angry, confused and hurt. Perhaps even the early church, facing difficulties as it was, needed to be taught that they could be facing pruning, for greater fruitfulness, and suffering, to be more fully grounded in Christ.1 Churches that move through hardships often find increased commitment to mission, find power and vision because they have been pruned, because they have suffered, because they have become more fully grounded in Christ.
Or think of Jesus' story: A lawyer stood up and questioned him. "Teacher, what shall we do to inherit eternal life?"
Jesus said to him, "What is written in the law, how do you read?" He answered, "You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your strength, and with all your mind. And your neighbor as yourself." And Jesus said to him, "You have answered right. Do this and you will live." But desiring to justify himself, he said to Jesus, "Who is my neighbor?" And Jesus told the story -- the very familiar one. A man was going down the road from Jerusalem to Jericho and he fell among robbers and he was stripped and beaten.
And they left him for dead. Now by chance a priest was going down that road ... you know the story. And then came a Levite down that road and looked upon the man ... you know that story. But then a Samaritan came down that road and he looked upon that man and he took pity on him (Luke 10:25-37).
Oh, people of God, is it not true that sometimes God prunes away things which confuse us, which cause our lives to be diminished and the Church to be diminished? Is it not true that God takes our suffering and grounds us in Jesus to help us see with the eyes that Jesus saw? Lest we walk down the road and leave the one who has been beaten and broken in the ditch?
Where is our home? Do we think our home is at 346 Pattie Drive or some such address? Because of our grounding in Christ, is our field of vision bigger? In the words of the lyricist, "O Lord my God, when I in awesome wonder consider all the worlds thy hands have made. I see the stars, I hear the rolling thunder, thy power throughout the universe displayed. Then sings my soul, my Savior God to thee, How great thou art!"2
Where is your home? Is your home with him? Is your home in him? Is there pruning? -- Yes. Is there suffering? -- Yes. Is there glory and power throughout the universe displayed -- Yes! Does our suffering ground us more fully in Christ? -- Yes. Does our suffering connect us even more intimately with God? -- Yes.
Where is your home? Where is your heart's true home? Abide in me and I with thee. I live with Jesus and so do you, and he lives with us. He prunes us and shapes us and frees us even in suffering to be fruitful. Thanks be to God who abides with us.
____________
1. Fred B. Craddock, John H. Hayes, Carl R. Holladya, Gene M. Tucker, Preaching The New Common Lectionary, Year B: Lent, Holy Week, Easter (Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1984), pp. 204-205.
2. "How Great Thou Art," words and music by Stuart K. Hine, Burbank, CA: Manna Music, 1953, no. 77, The United Methodist Hymnal.
