Ahh Damn

I think I jinxed worship today. My sermon, based on the Gospel lesson John 2:1-11, deals with the fact that we are human and occasionally screw up including in worship. Well apparently that gave us the excuse we needed. The organ quite during the last refrain of the hymn of the day, there was a big spill of communion wine on the altar, I messed up some words during the Eucharistic prayer. But yet we just laughed and kept on going! Anyway enjoy the sermon; I did, especially cause I got to say "Damn" during it.

The other text for today were: Isaiah 62:1-5, Psalm 36:5-10 and 1 Corinthians 12:1-11

On Monday I was on the phone with my accountant. And over the course of our conversation we were joking about the IRS and taxes and the other general banter about money and government. At one point, he says the word “Damn.” He then immediately apologizes and corrects himself with the word “darn.” Because of course I, as a pastor, would have been offended by such a swear word and because he, as swearing in a conversation with a pastor, is going directly to hell, do not pass go, do not collect $200. Secretly I love these moments because most of the time these people who barely know me do not realize that not only have I heard just about every swear word there is but I also have said most of them too.

We as a society have put religion up on this pedestal and have put pastors and other religious leaders up there as well. Granted after Pat Robertson’s comments about Haiti this last week, I’m not sure how much we deserve this pedestal.

Most of us have had a person treat us slightly differently after they find out that we are regular church-attendees. Not sure if we are oddities or have been brainwash or will be offended by the slightest infraction of the 10 Commandments or other “laws” that we have created and we might even try to save them. In many ways, we are told as a society, to put faith and therefore Jesus into this untouchable, holier than thou, realm where we must be on our best behavior, wear our finest clothes and pretend that we have no problems in our lives.

But faith really isn’t like that. Most people have felt closest to God and in most at need to rely on their faith when they are having the most problems. When the rest of their world has fallen apart. When all they want to do is shout and scream at the world and at God and sometimes can hardly get out of bed in the morning, much less put on their best clothes. As Norman Rockwell-esque as that is, as much as we might want to fit into that mold, many people realize that they do not and therefore avoid churches for fear that they do not measure up.

We have all seen the pictures are of the smiling homogeneous family all sitting quietly listening to the sermon or singing together out of the hymnal, but we all know that in reality we are daydreaming about what happened last night or mentally creating the grocery shopping list for the afternoon and the kids are complaining about when they can leave, coloring pictures or playing games. And sometimes the adults are even doing that too. It is perfectly normal, perfectly human to have these moments of reality.

That is what really happens here. In this church, in this sanctuary, we are truly human together. In order to worship together, in order to care for one another as a community, we must put away our false pretenses, we must admit that we are broken and cannot become whole by ourselves. That is why we begin most worship services with the order of confession and forgiveness: to remind us that we are human and that God is the one who forgives us. God is the one who heals us. God is the one who makes us whole.

For us to gather and ask for prayers for ourselves, family and friends, prayers of both celebration and concerns, we are reminding ourselves that we are human, that we are all human, that no one is better than any other. That we all celebrate our births, that we all mourn deaths, that we all struggle with sickness. That we struggle to understand natural disaster far from us and illnesses that have hit closer to home.

And one of the things that drew me to Bethlehem, that makes me smile just about every week at some point in the worship service, is that we do not take ourselves too seriously. At some point we “screw up.” The wrong hymn is announced, the wrong pronunciation is given for a name during a reading or prayer, we mess up at communion one way or another. And I have yet to hear a complaint about how worship was ruined for someone because we “screwed up.” The offering was taken the wrong way, the silences were too long or too short between prayer petitions, we had communion here at the font instead of the communion rail. And God forbid it the altar cross is off centered. And trust me there are churches who complain about such things.

So what does this have to do with our text today? With Jesus turning water into wine? Well here at the beginning of the Gospel of John, the gospel that focuses the most on Jesus’ the divine, the gospel that begins not with human things like Jesus’ birth but with the inspiring yet divinely focused text of “In the beginning was the Word and the Word was with God and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God.” Here, just a chapter after those cosmic, vast words about Jesus being God and with God, we hear about Jesus being at a very earthly, very human wedding. Jesus was not separate from earthly things. He was not too holy for a wedding. He ate with tax collectors, prostitutes and other blatant sinners. People were not always on their best behavior around him. They did not always wear their Sunday’s Best clothing and instead of hiding their problems, they came to him with them; problems of physical ills, disputes between neighbors and even being out of wine at a wedding.

And Jesus solved many of those problems. He healed broken people. He taught peace and justice and he even turned water into wine. Jesus had a joy for living. He comforted those who mourned but also celebrated with those who rejoiced and partied. And boy he must have liked a good party. 120 to 180 gallons of wine! That is some party. Jesus had a joy of living. He was not offended when people were people, when they came to him as they are, when they swore, smoke, drank, wore ratty clothes, and stopped paying attention during a sermon. Jesus was tangible to these people, he was not put on a pedestal to be revered but never touched.

And Jesus still is tangible to us. Jesus is given to us in the waters of baptism, in the bread and wine of the Lord’s Table. Jesus is not to be put up on a high shelf never to be taken down. He is not the best china only to be taken out at holidays. Jesus and our faith are to be used everyday. Our faith-lives are not to be wrapped in bubble wrap, and stored carefully in the attic only to be take out for special occasions or in case of emergency. Our faith lives are suppose to be used and the more they are used, the more they are exercised, the more we realize that our faith is an active part of our everyday life, and the stronger our faith becomes. The more we can be our real selves with our faith and our faith community, the more we realize that God still loves us, even when we “screw up” whether it is in worship or at work or in our personal lives, the more stronger our faith will be. And the stronger our faith is, the more we can respond to those in need. Whether it is to a close friend struggling with life or an entire country devastated by an earthquake.

Jesus and our faith gives us a joy of life, a life of sorrow and happiness. A life that is lived in and by grace, a life that is lived fully, abundantly and vibrantly. A life that may not be picturesque but that is still loved, blessed and graced by God. A God who has joy for living.