Speak The Truth In Love
Stories
Object:
Contents
What's Up This Week
"Speak the Truth in Love" by John Smylie
"Recognizing the Christ" by Sandra Herrmann
What's Up This Week
We are all called as Christians to be conformed into the image of our Lord. What are some of the ways that we can do that? One of the ways that we can become more like Jesus, as Peter demonstrated in Acts, is to "Speak the Truth in Love," as John Smylie articulates in his article of the same title. According to Sandra Herrmann in "Recognizing the Christ," we need to see Christ in our daily living, in simple actions like breaking bread with one another. Once that happens, we can begin to transform our world so that it may reflect the glory of God.
* * * * * * * * *
Speak the Truth in Love
By John Smylie
Acts 2:14a, 22-32
Peter, standing with the eleven, raised his voice and addressed them: "Therefore let the entire house of Israel know with certainty that God has made him both Lord and Messiah, this Jesus whom you crucified."
It seems to me there is a temptation among Christians to be nice. Peter, in addressing this crowd is anything but nice. He loves, but he is not nice.
It takes a lot of confidence to be able to speak the truth without the fear of repercussions. Peter has come to that place having experienced the depth of his own weakness. It wasn't that long ago that he denied his Lord three times when his Lord was in his most vulnerable moments. Peter has obviously done a whole lot of growing since then and now he himself was willing to put himself at risk to speak the truth.
I have a friend who has a gift of being able to speak the truth in love, in pastoral situations, from the pulpit and in almost every walk of life. Somehow those, at least most of those who hear him, love the fact that he is willing to challenge them. I think they love him because they know that he cares for them and is willing to risk his own relationship with them because he loves them so much. He is the best pastor that I have ever met. I have known him to confront the powerful and the meek. I have known him to confront bishops, fellow clergy, government officials, and others.
There was one time when he was at a funeral of a friend who was being buried from a Roman Catholic church. My friend is an Episcopal clergyman and he was dressed in his clerical collar while attending a service. He had no role in conducting the service. He simply was one of those who sits in the pew to worship the Lord, pray for the family, and care for those in attendance while honoring the departed. When it was time to receive communion only the Roman Catholics in attendance at the service were invited to receive the sacrament. Apparently, these are the rules. Something inside my friend got stirred up and he felt called to come forward and receive the sacrament. For him the sacrament meant being connected not only with Christ but with the gathered community and with the departed. For him to skip the sacramental meal that was being offered would have been an insult to the family of his friend and to his friend whose life they had gathered to celebrate. So he disregarded the instruction of the priest, that this was for Roman Catholics only and he came forward and knelt at the altar rail with hands stretched out to receive the Body of Christ.
When the Roman Catholic priest came by he refused to give the sacrament to my friend. My friend then said to him, "You have to give it to me." The priest again refused. My friend then said to him, "If this is the body of Christ, you have to give it to me." My friend wasn't going anywhere. The Catholic priest was becoming angry. My friend then asked him, "Is this just some Roman Catholic thing or is it the body of Christ? If it's the body of Christ you must give it to me." The Catholic priest then placed the sacrament in my friend's hand saying to him, "You will see me in my office after the service." I don't know what happened in the office but I do know that my friend spoke the truth with love to the Roman priest and perhaps even to the Catholic church. It didn't matter to him if it was a local priest, the bishop, or even the Pope administering the sacrament. What mattered to him was the connection that was found in the bread and in the wine -- a connection to the living God -- a connection to the community gathered -- a connection to the God of the living -- a connection to his departed friend.
Some of us come by this talent naturally -- the talent of speaking the truth in love -- others of us, like Peter, may learn this the hard way. Early on in my ministry, I was more concerned with being liked than I was with speaking the truth. I hadn't named that within myself at that time but later I came to learn that this was true -- one of my weaknesses -- one of my flaws. When we discover we are among those who were more interested in being liked and pleasing others than we are in speaking the truth in love, we may discover that we have an opportunity to grow. Being nice and seeking to please others rather than speaking the truth in love leads to a very empty and hollow feeling and certainly does nothing to advance Christianity.
As we learn this lesson -- as we risk speaking the truth in love -- we become more substantive -- more whole -- more like Christ. I recently had an opportunity to speak the truth in love to an older gentleman who was making life-and-death decisions.
Roger was in and out of the hospital. Over the last several months it seemed that he was spending more and longer stays there. The quality of his life was deteriorating and he was afraid that he was becoming a burden to all those around him, especially his wife, Doris. His heart was failing. The medications that he was taking were becoming more difficult to manage. The internal defibrillator had become a burden that he no longer wanted to bear. His life was slowly ebbing away and he was growing more frustrated with the experience.
After much reflection, discussion with family, his doctors, and his priest, Roger decided that he was ready to stop treatment. To continue on would be to continue on the same path -- the same downward spiral -- more time in the hospital, less time at home -- and he was unwilling to stay on that path. He made the decision to turn off the internal defibrillator and to wean himself away from the medications. He now would qualify for hospice care. He lived in a community that had a residential hospice unit -- a home that he could move into and spend his last days under hospice care. His family could visit as often as they liked -- unlimited visiting hours. In his mind, he wanted to make the transition from this life to the next as easy for his wife Doris as he could. He did not want to burden her even though hospice would offer on-site care for him if he chose to go to his home.
Doris was very clear that she wanted Roger to come home and die in the place that he loved, surrounded by family and the normalcy of everyday life. She wanted to be near him and have him hear the sounds of grandchildren in the house, breathe the aroma wonderful meals being prepared in the kitchen, and experience the normalcy of the ordinary where God may be found most often. Roger didn't want to hear anything of this; he was determined to make life easier for Doris, and he was convinced he knew better. This is where I was invited to enter the conversation. This is where I felt I was called to speak the truth in love to my friend Roger. I had already affirmed his decision to put himself in God's care and allow himself to retreat from the extraordinary medical care that he was receiving. We had spent time reflecting on death as a part of life. What I needed to do here was to challenge Roger to receive the kindness, compassion, dedication, and love of his wife. He was being stubborn and, of course, the temptation was to pity him because of his situation. I did not pity him; in fact I believe with God's grace I was able to speak to him truth in love. When I challenged Roger to stop being so stubborn and listen to his wife and receive her deep and abiding love for him and go home and die there, he looked at me and smiled.
Roger received the word of his priest. Roger received the grace and kindness and compassion and love of his wife. Roger has been received into the gracious and loving arms of his Lord.
Peter spoke the truth with love to those who had rejected Jesus. He told them of their mistake, perhaps knowing full well that he himself might be a victim of the same cruelty his Lord experienced -- the same rejection -- even a similar death. Peter was willing to give these folks a chance to do the right thing -- a chance to turn around, a chance to repent, a chance to experience the good news of the risen Lord for themselves.
Speaking the truth in love really is all about caring for another. Our Lord's entire life is a witness to speaking the truth in love, and each of us is invited to join in his great mission with all that we say, with all that we do, with all that we have, and with all that we are.
John S. Smylie is the rector of St. Mark's Episcopal Church in Casper, Wyoming. Previously he served as the dean of the Cathedral of St. John the Evangelist in Spokane, Washington. He is a published author and storyteller as well as a singer-songwriter. Smylie recently completed Grace for Today, a collection of 25 stories that explores how grace, loss, and restoration are part of the same fabric.
Recognizing the Christ
By Sandra Herrmann
Luke 24:13-35
All through his gospel, Luke (the Greek doctor, supposedly writing for a Greek audience) has posed the question: "Who is this Jesus of Nazareth?" He begins his gospel by establishing Jesus' lineage: Jesus is from a priestly family on his mother's side. Furthermore, he is a cousin of John the Baptist, a widely recognized prophet.
On the other hand, beginning with Jesus' birth, Luke makes it plain that Jesus is not just for the Jewish upper class. God invites to his birth shepherds, who during the contemporary history of the nation had gone from being seen as tender guardians of the flock, and so a representation of God's care of the people, to a despised, ritually "unclean" group, who because they had to live in the fields with the sheep and far from the ritual baths of the temple, never quite measured up to being allowed into the sanctuary. Those two stories describe the tension of the rest of the narrative. "Who is this child?" asks Luke. "What is the business of this man, Jesus?"
Throughout the first part of the gospel, starting with Jesus' encounter with Satan in the desert, Jesus is constantly confronted with Satan's challenge: "IF you are the Son of God, prove it: Make this stone into bread. No? Then surely you have power over the nations. No? Well, then, IF you are the Son of God, fulfill the psalmist's prophecy: Throw yourself off the temple wall. Surely God will uphold you on angel's wings." But Jesus is not to be trapped. He walks away from such signs and powers (see Luke 4:1-13).
Nevertheless, he declares in his home synagogue, "The Spirit of the Lord is upon me" (Luke 4:18). After he is literally thrown out for saying this, Jesus goes to Capernaum. There, he is confronted by his first demon. A man "possessed by a demon" says, "Ha! What do you want, Jesus? Have you come to destroy us? I know who you are -- the Holy One of God" (Luke 4:34).
That's the kicker. Only the demons keep saying so. The temple priests and lawyers, on the other hand, keep asking, "Who is this fellow? How does he dare teach as he does?" Worse, "How does he heal people?" Because people are naturally going to follow someone who can do what he does.
So it goes, right up to the Transfiguration (Luke 9:28-36). At that point, Jesus asks his disciples, "Who do the people say I am?"
"A prophet, maybe Moses or Elijah," "a magician" (for so healers were called in those days). "But you, my closest followers, who do you say I am?" Peter says, "You are the Anointed One of God." Eight days later, his three closest friends hear God say, "This IS my son. Listen to him!"
From that moment on, Jesus sets out for Jerusalem, and the emphasis is on what it costs to be a follower of this Christ. He must suffer and die; we must suffer and die. He continues to heal, and he sends out his disciples to do the same. No longer do demons cry out "I know who you are!" only to be silenced at his command. No longer do others ask who he is.
Instead, Luke records Jesus' commands for his disciples: how to pray; how to treat one another, even those we dislike; how to call others to the light; how to avoid "acting" (the meaning of the Greek word "hypocrite") and start doing. Above all, Jesus teaches the uselessness of worrying rather than placing faith in God. He seems determined that they will go on without him as well as they have in his presence.
The crucifixion ends this part of the story. Jesus is dead and buried; the disciples are hiding or leaving town. No one knows what to make of this end to their hopes. It is not clear whether these two, walking to Emmaus, have even heard the story the women told about meeting angels at an empty tomb. They are clearly bereft, their eyes on the road, unable to see the Master who is right in front of them.
There is a gift here for those who want to have the reality of the Christ in their lives. The man they have been listening to as they walked along, having been invited to dinner, offers thanks for the bread, and breaks it. In that moment, in that action, there is the Christ! But as quickly as they recognize it, the moment -- and the man -- are gone.
What are we to make of this? We make bread and new wine with this! We set the table, spread the linen, break out the glasses, and celebrate! For just as surely as you have bread at a meal, just as deeply as you drink from the cup, so are you in the presence of Jesus the Christ. If we can see him there, we can see him everywhere. Then all things are possible, says Luke. So keep your eyes open, alert to every opportunity to transform this weary world into a replica of the realm of God.
Sandra Herrmann is pastor of Memorial United Methodist Church in Greenfield, Wisconsin. She is the author of Ambassadors of Hope (CSS); her articles and sermons have also appeared in Emphasis and The Circuit Rider, and her poetry has been published in Alive Now and So's Your Old Lady.
**********************************************
How to Share Stories
You have good stories to share, probably more than you know: personal stories as well as stories from others that you have used over the years. If you have a story you like, whether fictional or "really happened," authored by you or a brief excerpt from a favorite book, send it to StoryShare for review. Simply email the story to us at storyshare@sermonsuite.com.
**************
StoryShare, April 6, 2008, issue.
Copyright 2008 by CSS Publishing Company, Inc., Lima, Ohio.
All rights reserved. Subscribers to the StoryShare service may print and use this material as it was intended in sermons, in worship and classroom settings, in brief devotions, in radio spots, and as newsletter fillers. No additional permission is required from the publisher for such use by subscribers only. Inquiries should be addressed to permissions@csspub.com or to Permissions, CSS Publishing Company, Inc., 517 South Main Street, Lima, Ohio 45804.
What's Up This Week
"Speak the Truth in Love" by John Smylie
"Recognizing the Christ" by Sandra Herrmann
What's Up This Week
We are all called as Christians to be conformed into the image of our Lord. What are some of the ways that we can do that? One of the ways that we can become more like Jesus, as Peter demonstrated in Acts, is to "Speak the Truth in Love," as John Smylie articulates in his article of the same title. According to Sandra Herrmann in "Recognizing the Christ," we need to see Christ in our daily living, in simple actions like breaking bread with one another. Once that happens, we can begin to transform our world so that it may reflect the glory of God.
* * * * * * * * *
Speak the Truth in Love
By John Smylie
Acts 2:14a, 22-32
Peter, standing with the eleven, raised his voice and addressed them: "Therefore let the entire house of Israel know with certainty that God has made him both Lord and Messiah, this Jesus whom you crucified."
It seems to me there is a temptation among Christians to be nice. Peter, in addressing this crowd is anything but nice. He loves, but he is not nice.
It takes a lot of confidence to be able to speak the truth without the fear of repercussions. Peter has come to that place having experienced the depth of his own weakness. It wasn't that long ago that he denied his Lord three times when his Lord was in his most vulnerable moments. Peter has obviously done a whole lot of growing since then and now he himself was willing to put himself at risk to speak the truth.
I have a friend who has a gift of being able to speak the truth in love, in pastoral situations, from the pulpit and in almost every walk of life. Somehow those, at least most of those who hear him, love the fact that he is willing to challenge them. I think they love him because they know that he cares for them and is willing to risk his own relationship with them because he loves them so much. He is the best pastor that I have ever met. I have known him to confront the powerful and the meek. I have known him to confront bishops, fellow clergy, government officials, and others.
There was one time when he was at a funeral of a friend who was being buried from a Roman Catholic church. My friend is an Episcopal clergyman and he was dressed in his clerical collar while attending a service. He had no role in conducting the service. He simply was one of those who sits in the pew to worship the Lord, pray for the family, and care for those in attendance while honoring the departed. When it was time to receive communion only the Roman Catholics in attendance at the service were invited to receive the sacrament. Apparently, these are the rules. Something inside my friend got stirred up and he felt called to come forward and receive the sacrament. For him the sacrament meant being connected not only with Christ but with the gathered community and with the departed. For him to skip the sacramental meal that was being offered would have been an insult to the family of his friend and to his friend whose life they had gathered to celebrate. So he disregarded the instruction of the priest, that this was for Roman Catholics only and he came forward and knelt at the altar rail with hands stretched out to receive the Body of Christ.
When the Roman Catholic priest came by he refused to give the sacrament to my friend. My friend then said to him, "You have to give it to me." The priest again refused. My friend then said to him, "If this is the body of Christ, you have to give it to me." My friend wasn't going anywhere. The Catholic priest was becoming angry. My friend then asked him, "Is this just some Roman Catholic thing or is it the body of Christ? If it's the body of Christ you must give it to me." The Catholic priest then placed the sacrament in my friend's hand saying to him, "You will see me in my office after the service." I don't know what happened in the office but I do know that my friend spoke the truth with love to the Roman priest and perhaps even to the Catholic church. It didn't matter to him if it was a local priest, the bishop, or even the Pope administering the sacrament. What mattered to him was the connection that was found in the bread and in the wine -- a connection to the living God -- a connection to the community gathered -- a connection to the God of the living -- a connection to his departed friend.
Some of us come by this talent naturally -- the talent of speaking the truth in love -- others of us, like Peter, may learn this the hard way. Early on in my ministry, I was more concerned with being liked than I was with speaking the truth. I hadn't named that within myself at that time but later I came to learn that this was true -- one of my weaknesses -- one of my flaws. When we discover we are among those who were more interested in being liked and pleasing others than we are in speaking the truth in love, we may discover that we have an opportunity to grow. Being nice and seeking to please others rather than speaking the truth in love leads to a very empty and hollow feeling and certainly does nothing to advance Christianity.
As we learn this lesson -- as we risk speaking the truth in love -- we become more substantive -- more whole -- more like Christ. I recently had an opportunity to speak the truth in love to an older gentleman who was making life-and-death decisions.
Roger was in and out of the hospital. Over the last several months it seemed that he was spending more and longer stays there. The quality of his life was deteriorating and he was afraid that he was becoming a burden to all those around him, especially his wife, Doris. His heart was failing. The medications that he was taking were becoming more difficult to manage. The internal defibrillator had become a burden that he no longer wanted to bear. His life was slowly ebbing away and he was growing more frustrated with the experience.
After much reflection, discussion with family, his doctors, and his priest, Roger decided that he was ready to stop treatment. To continue on would be to continue on the same path -- the same downward spiral -- more time in the hospital, less time at home -- and he was unwilling to stay on that path. He made the decision to turn off the internal defibrillator and to wean himself away from the medications. He now would qualify for hospice care. He lived in a community that had a residential hospice unit -- a home that he could move into and spend his last days under hospice care. His family could visit as often as they liked -- unlimited visiting hours. In his mind, he wanted to make the transition from this life to the next as easy for his wife Doris as he could. He did not want to burden her even though hospice would offer on-site care for him if he chose to go to his home.
Doris was very clear that she wanted Roger to come home and die in the place that he loved, surrounded by family and the normalcy of everyday life. She wanted to be near him and have him hear the sounds of grandchildren in the house, breathe the aroma wonderful meals being prepared in the kitchen, and experience the normalcy of the ordinary where God may be found most often. Roger didn't want to hear anything of this; he was determined to make life easier for Doris, and he was convinced he knew better. This is where I was invited to enter the conversation. This is where I felt I was called to speak the truth in love to my friend Roger. I had already affirmed his decision to put himself in God's care and allow himself to retreat from the extraordinary medical care that he was receiving. We had spent time reflecting on death as a part of life. What I needed to do here was to challenge Roger to receive the kindness, compassion, dedication, and love of his wife. He was being stubborn and, of course, the temptation was to pity him because of his situation. I did not pity him; in fact I believe with God's grace I was able to speak to him truth in love. When I challenged Roger to stop being so stubborn and listen to his wife and receive her deep and abiding love for him and go home and die there, he looked at me and smiled.
Roger received the word of his priest. Roger received the grace and kindness and compassion and love of his wife. Roger has been received into the gracious and loving arms of his Lord.
Peter spoke the truth with love to those who had rejected Jesus. He told them of their mistake, perhaps knowing full well that he himself might be a victim of the same cruelty his Lord experienced -- the same rejection -- even a similar death. Peter was willing to give these folks a chance to do the right thing -- a chance to turn around, a chance to repent, a chance to experience the good news of the risen Lord for themselves.
Speaking the truth in love really is all about caring for another. Our Lord's entire life is a witness to speaking the truth in love, and each of us is invited to join in his great mission with all that we say, with all that we do, with all that we have, and with all that we are.
John S. Smylie is the rector of St. Mark's Episcopal Church in Casper, Wyoming. Previously he served as the dean of the Cathedral of St. John the Evangelist in Spokane, Washington. He is a published author and storyteller as well as a singer-songwriter. Smylie recently completed Grace for Today, a collection of 25 stories that explores how grace, loss, and restoration are part of the same fabric.
Recognizing the Christ
By Sandra Herrmann
Luke 24:13-35
All through his gospel, Luke (the Greek doctor, supposedly writing for a Greek audience) has posed the question: "Who is this Jesus of Nazareth?" He begins his gospel by establishing Jesus' lineage: Jesus is from a priestly family on his mother's side. Furthermore, he is a cousin of John the Baptist, a widely recognized prophet.
On the other hand, beginning with Jesus' birth, Luke makes it plain that Jesus is not just for the Jewish upper class. God invites to his birth shepherds, who during the contemporary history of the nation had gone from being seen as tender guardians of the flock, and so a representation of God's care of the people, to a despised, ritually "unclean" group, who because they had to live in the fields with the sheep and far from the ritual baths of the temple, never quite measured up to being allowed into the sanctuary. Those two stories describe the tension of the rest of the narrative. "Who is this child?" asks Luke. "What is the business of this man, Jesus?"
Throughout the first part of the gospel, starting with Jesus' encounter with Satan in the desert, Jesus is constantly confronted with Satan's challenge: "IF you are the Son of God, prove it: Make this stone into bread. No? Then surely you have power over the nations. No? Well, then, IF you are the Son of God, fulfill the psalmist's prophecy: Throw yourself off the temple wall. Surely God will uphold you on angel's wings." But Jesus is not to be trapped. He walks away from such signs and powers (see Luke 4:1-13).
Nevertheless, he declares in his home synagogue, "The Spirit of the Lord is upon me" (Luke 4:18). After he is literally thrown out for saying this, Jesus goes to Capernaum. There, he is confronted by his first demon. A man "possessed by a demon" says, "Ha! What do you want, Jesus? Have you come to destroy us? I know who you are -- the Holy One of God" (Luke 4:34).
That's the kicker. Only the demons keep saying so. The temple priests and lawyers, on the other hand, keep asking, "Who is this fellow? How does he dare teach as he does?" Worse, "How does he heal people?" Because people are naturally going to follow someone who can do what he does.
So it goes, right up to the Transfiguration (Luke 9:28-36). At that point, Jesus asks his disciples, "Who do the people say I am?"
"A prophet, maybe Moses or Elijah," "a magician" (for so healers were called in those days). "But you, my closest followers, who do you say I am?" Peter says, "You are the Anointed One of God." Eight days later, his three closest friends hear God say, "This IS my son. Listen to him!"
From that moment on, Jesus sets out for Jerusalem, and the emphasis is on what it costs to be a follower of this Christ. He must suffer and die; we must suffer and die. He continues to heal, and he sends out his disciples to do the same. No longer do demons cry out "I know who you are!" only to be silenced at his command. No longer do others ask who he is.
Instead, Luke records Jesus' commands for his disciples: how to pray; how to treat one another, even those we dislike; how to call others to the light; how to avoid "acting" (the meaning of the Greek word "hypocrite") and start doing. Above all, Jesus teaches the uselessness of worrying rather than placing faith in God. He seems determined that they will go on without him as well as they have in his presence.
The crucifixion ends this part of the story. Jesus is dead and buried; the disciples are hiding or leaving town. No one knows what to make of this end to their hopes. It is not clear whether these two, walking to Emmaus, have even heard the story the women told about meeting angels at an empty tomb. They are clearly bereft, their eyes on the road, unable to see the Master who is right in front of them.
There is a gift here for those who want to have the reality of the Christ in their lives. The man they have been listening to as they walked along, having been invited to dinner, offers thanks for the bread, and breaks it. In that moment, in that action, there is the Christ! But as quickly as they recognize it, the moment -- and the man -- are gone.
What are we to make of this? We make bread and new wine with this! We set the table, spread the linen, break out the glasses, and celebrate! For just as surely as you have bread at a meal, just as deeply as you drink from the cup, so are you in the presence of Jesus the Christ. If we can see him there, we can see him everywhere. Then all things are possible, says Luke. So keep your eyes open, alert to every opportunity to transform this weary world into a replica of the realm of God.
Sandra Herrmann is pastor of Memorial United Methodist Church in Greenfield, Wisconsin. She is the author of Ambassadors of Hope (CSS); her articles and sermons have also appeared in Emphasis and The Circuit Rider, and her poetry has been published in Alive Now and So's Your Old Lady.
**********************************************
How to Share Stories
You have good stories to share, probably more than you know: personal stories as well as stories from others that you have used over the years. If you have a story you like, whether fictional or "really happened," authored by you or a brief excerpt from a favorite book, send it to StoryShare for review. Simply email the story to us at storyshare@sermonsuite.com.
**************
StoryShare, April 6, 2008, issue.
Copyright 2008 by CSS Publishing Company, Inc., Lima, Ohio.
All rights reserved. Subscribers to the StoryShare service may print and use this material as it was intended in sermons, in worship and classroom settings, in brief devotions, in radio spots, and as newsletter fillers. No additional permission is required from the publisher for such use by subscribers only. Inquiries should be addressed to permissions@csspub.com or to Permissions, CSS Publishing Company, Inc., 517 South Main Street, Lima, Ohio 45804.
