Pastor Rachel B. Livingston 

Cheltenham United Methodist Church 

July 19, 2020

Psalm 86: 11-17; Romans 8:12-25

 

• Online Worship Bulletin 20-07-26
• Online Worship 200726

                                                                                                     

 

            As I grew up, it was important for my family to connect me to my history and the journey of my ancestors.  As I look back, I can remember a hymn that hung on lips of my foremothers and forefathers that said, “Sometimes I feel like a motherless child, sometimes I feel like a fatherless child, sometimes I feel like a parentless child, a long way from home.”  These were words that were expressed by someone who had been displaced from home. But it was more than that, they were not just displaced from their home but so broken with the weight of the oppressions of the world on their neck, with the weight of the world choking the life out of them, and with the shackles of their situation suffocating the movement of love within the world that they could not even feel the love of the one whose love is normally a given.  They could not feel  the love of a mother or a father, and it may seem as if the love of their own creator, their God, was nowhere to be found.  Their situation left them in the in the blues, in the heartache of feeling alone in the world, with a crisp gentle moan of the heart, with guttural stirring deep within the soul, with a shaking sorrow that can be played over a melody to move the spirit deep within.  The question is raised, have you ever felt deep within your gut, the soul wrenching, heart throbbing feeling that the whole world around you feels like a lonely world, that you are living here without the love of a parent and that God may seem silent in your abandonment? Have you felt stirred by the blues that you felt like a motherless child, a parentless child, a long way from home?

 

Pastor Rachel B. Livingston 

Cheltenham United Methodist Church 

July 12, 2020

Psalm 119:105-112; Romans 8:1-11

 

                                                                                   

                                                                 “Prayers of the People” – Picture of the Western Wall in Jerusalem taken by Pastor Rachel B. Livingston

 

Have you ever received a letter – a letter that someone had taken the time and specifically thought of you to write out words intended for you, intentionally written out by hand using pen and paper – a letter that has the power to change your whole life? A letter that reveals the foundation of life – a letter that elaborates the fullest extent of our faith.  Who would have known that all of this – love, faith, intentionality, doctrine – could come from a letter in the mail?  That all of this could not only speak to the church of Rome, but speak to a future generation – a generation that encompasses the time of now, where we exist as a church as the faithful people of God, and extends to future generations.  The scripture we now read, sent to the church of Rome is a letter that holds such great foundations for our faith, it holds information that can allow us to see God at work in our lives, it holds the words that affirm God’s grace, it holds the concepts that encourage us to be in relationship with Christ and allow the spirit to transform our very being.  We now know this scripture to be part of our Biblical scripture, part of our holy text, but it started out as a piece of mail written by Paul.  A letter that left his hands and traveled along the Mediterranean countryside until it reached the already established church of Rome.  Who could have known that this letter could hold so much, that it could influence our faith and the way in which we live it out?

 

Psalm 145: 8-14; Zechariah 9:9-12

 

                                                                                                               

 

Rev. Mark Schaefer
Cheltenham United Methodist Church
June 14, 2020
Genesis 18:1–15; 21:1–7; Matthew 9:35–10:15

 

That’s a comforting thing to hear as a new pastor. It’s nice to know that you’ve been accepted. And our lives are filled with such rites of belonging, those moments when you know that you’re truly welcomed in a place. 

That it should happen in church should not be surprising. I have rarely gone to a Methodist church and not felt welcomed. Once, in college, I attended services at McKownville United Methodist Church. They were so friendly to me that one of them even wondered whether they’d scared me off for good. I didn’t go back there, but it had nothing to do with their friendliness and more to do with the schedule I kept in college which was not conducive to Sunday morning piety.

It’s encouraging to see that so many of our churches are welcoming spaces, because welcome is at the heart of our Christian values.

There are a lot of things I can explain, if asked. 

I can explain why the word for ‘father’ in the majority of Indo-European languages is something like pater and starts with a ‘p’ but in the Germanic languages like English, German, and Dutch, the word starts with an ‘f.’

I can explain how the Interstate Commerce Clause of the United States Constitution is a mechanism for federal regulation of matters that would otherwise be state matters.

I can explain how it was that the District of Columbia wound up getting disenfranchised without any voting representation in the Congress. I can explain the various possible remedies to that disenfranchisement. I can even explain why this has been such a tough problem to solve.

I can even explain how a telephone works—something I once had to do when I was trying, in vain, to explain to my 85-year-old boss in 1996 what the internet was.

But ask me to explain the Trinity? Well, that’s a whole different story.

Rev. Mark Schaefer
May 31, 2020—Pentecost Sunday
Acts 2:1–21; John 20:19–23

I. BEGINNING

אַשׁלמֵתֽ לכֻֽון גֵ֗יר מֵֽן לֻוקדַֽם אַיךֽ מֵדֵ֗ם ד֗קַב֗לֵתֽ
ַ֗משִׁיחֹא מִיתֽ עַל אַפַ֗֯י חטֹ֯הַין אַיכַ֗נֹא דַ֗כֽתִֽיבֽ
ודֵֽאתֽקבַֽר וקֹם לַתֽלֹתֹֽא יַומִי֯ן אַיךֽ דַ֗כֽתִֽיבֽ

I’m sorry… I’m being told that people don’t understand Aramaic. That’s a little surprising, don’t you think? I mean, after all Jesus spoke Aramaic and we’re supposed to follow in his example. Should I have not assumed that Christians everywhere understood Jesus’ language perfectly well? Should I have not assumed that Christians were completely in step with Jesus’ teaching in light of its historical, linguistic, cultural, and theological context?

Oh, I see. 

Well then, I guess then I’m going to have to translate some this message. Will Greek do? No? Latin? Okay, English, then. 

Now, this is a perilous undertaking. People don’t like it when you translate things. They like it when things stay as they are.

Part 6 of the series “Questions of Faith”
Rev. Mark Schaefer
May 24, 2020
Proverbs 25:21-22; Matthew 5:38-48

I. BEGINNING

Nobody likes being pushed around.  Nobody. It’s why bullies are so terrifying.  These tyrants who terrorize others into doing their will.  Who abuse, manipulate, and threaten others into submission.  We all know that there’s only one response to a bully or a tyrant or someone who’s hurt you: a taste of their own medicine.

We all know that the strong respect only those who are stronger.  A bully backs down when you demonstrate a willingness, even an eagerness, to fight.  Standing up for yourself.  Resisting. Fighting back.  We understand how that works and we admire those who do it.

Rev. Mark Schaefer
Part 5 of the series, “Questions of Faith”
May 17, 2020
Acts 17:22–31; John 14:8–21

I. BEGINNING

There are a lot of things that people don’t understand about Christianity.

Do you really believe that you’re eating the flesh of Jesus when you have that little piece of bread? What does that rabbit have to do with Jesus coming back from the dead? What on earth is a narthex? But perhaps the biggest source of confusion is what it is we say about Jesus: How is Jesus both human and divine?

Of course, that’s not a question limited to people outside of Christian faith; plenty of Christians wonder this same thing. After all, that’s why it’s in a sermon series entitled, “Questions of Faith.”

And so, this is a question that both Christians and non-Christians ask and one that goes right to the heart of our faith. For, in can certainly be said that this is the question that divides us from the other Abrahamic faiths. This is the issue that separates us most profoundly from the other monotheistic traditions.  This is the one where our Jewish and Muslim brothers and sisters draw the line: the Divinity of Christ.

For our Jewish brothers and sisters, it is not just that we declare Jesus to be the Messiah; all manner of messiahs were proclaimed in First Century Judaism (and continue to be proclaimed). The mere declaration that any particular individual was messiah was not enough to be kicked out.  Declaring that person to be God Incarnate: that was a different matter.

In the same way, Muslims also reject Jesus’ divinity.  They accept that Jesus was the Messiah—in fact in the Qur’an, Isa ibn Maryam, Jesus son of Mary, is referred to as the Masih, messiah, and is even declared to have been born of a virgin. But again, Muslims draw the line with equating Jesus with God, or attributing to him divinity, or arguing that he is in any way God’s “partner” in salvation.

So, this is the one.  This is the issue around which is the most disagreement with our fellow members of the Abrahamic faiths. And it’s one of the questions that causes the greatest amount of confusion within the church.

So how do we begin to understand this question?

Rev. Mark Schaefer
Part 4 of the series “Questions of Faith”
May 10, 2020
Acts 7:55–60; John 14:1–7

I. BEGINNING

The best thing about having a club is who’s not allowed to be a member.  Little kids figure this out pretty quickly.  The first time boys get a tree fort or similar hideout, the first thing they do is hang a sign on it that says “No Girls Allowed.” Girls themselves have elaborate qualifications to join what secret clubs they have, usually requiring several oaths of fealty and pledges of the utmost secrecy.

As adults we still recognize the attractiveness of exclusivity. It was the initial appeal of Facebook—that it was limited to college campuses—that drove its early success. Its continued success is that it allowed limited access to view people’s profiles, creating a sense of being “in” that was coveted.  “Membership has its privileges” reads a famous marketing slogan from American Express, suggesting that belonging to this particular club (for which you even have to be willing to pay an annual fee), there is a benefit not available to just anyone. In fact, it is the exclusivity of clubs that makes them attractive. Clubs where just anyone can belong don’t hold the same appeal.  It’s why Groucho Marx famously said, “I don’t want to belong to any club that will accept people like me as a member.”

Sometimes it seems that the same phenomenon holds true with our understandings of heaven.  It’s the ultimate club, isn’t it?  It’s got all the best food, everyone is really happy, lots of celebrities like the Apostles and the Prophets.  Beautiful landscaping.  And soooo exclusive.  I mean, they don’t let just anyone in.  No, this club is reserved only for Christians and even then, we’re not sure it’s all Christians.  I’m reminded of the old joke where a man dies and goes to heaven and is given the tour.  The angel walks him past the grand halls where the Buddhists are meditating, the Jews study the scriptures, the Muslims are praying, until finally he comes across one room and the angel says, “Now, we have to be very quiet around this next room.  It’s full of Christians and they think they’re the only ones here.” 

That joke wouldn’t be funny if it weren’t true.  In fact, the whole reason we talk about this issue today is because this question—what happens to people of other faiths—is one of those questions of faith that resurface time and time again.  And it does so because the presumption is that non-Christians do not have access to eternal life and instead are cast off into the outer darkness.  That presumption is shared by many Christians and non-Christians about what it is that Christianity actually believes.  But is it?  Need it be?

We’ll take a look at this issue using the time-honored Methodist tradition of the Wesleyan Quadrilateral, exploring the question through the lenses of scripture, tradition, reason, and experience.