Cool Water and K.I.S.S. Evangelism

Cool Water and K.I.S.S. Evangelism

Pastor Mark Havel

Matthew 10:40-42

[Jesus said,] “Whoever welcomes you welcomes me and whoever welcomes me welcomes the one who sent me. Whoever welcomes a prophet in the name of a prophet shall receive a prophet’s reward. Whoever welcomes a righteous person in the name of a righteous person shall receive the reward of the righteous. And whoever gives even a cup of cold water to one of these little ones – truly I tell you, none of these will lose their reward.”

---

I always feel like we need to put this bit of Matthew’s Gospel into some context, just in case you haven’t been here for the last few weeks to here what Jesus has been up to.

Up to this point in the 10th Chapter of Matthew’s Gospel, Jesus has basically been laying out a job description for his disciples. And a lot of what they can expect isn’t pretty, to be honest. If you were here, you remember there was all of that stuff about not bringing peace, but a sword and about families being separated, one from another, because of their affinity for, or their call to follow Jesus. There were even some warnings about arrest, persecution, and death, too.

So it doesn’t sound like such a great gig, being one of those first disciples: Hitting the streets with the Word of God. Knocking on doors to share the Good News of the Kingdom. Preaching the Gospel. Healing the sick. Inviting themselves into the hearts and lives and homes of people … welcoming strangers into The Way of following Jesus, who may or may not want anything at all to do with what they were selling.

Which is where we end up today … at the end of this ministry plan … where it seems Jesus tries to wrap it all up on a high note, with some encouragement, some hope, some promised – if unidentified – “rewards” for doing this work, for accepting this mission, for living this life. Rewards for the disciples who welcome others into the fold AND rewards for those who welcome them as they do his bidding.

A Facebook friend of mine, someone I knew in junior high and high school, posted a picture on social media this week and it made me laugh. It was a hot pink Post-It -note – handed to her by her UBER driver – that said, “God has something special for you. God bless you always. Smile, God loves you. (Smiley Face) Happy day!!!”

My friend’s response, via Facebook, was “OMG I’m in hell. I mean, Indiana.”

It might help to know that my friend and I knew each other when we lived in the suburbs of Detroit, again when we were in Junior High and High School. She’s lived most of her adult life in California, as far as I can tell – San Francisco and Oakland. She’s always been an artist – drawing and painting – and she travels the world lecturing on things like Artificial Intelligence in the world of computers and technology that is utterly beyond me. (She does things in virtual reality like designing holograms and robots, for crying out loud.) She’s always been a free-spirit, a deep thinker, and a non-conformist, yada, yada, yada.

Which is why, I imagine, being back in the Midwest – and in “ruby red” Indiana, in particular – where presumptuous prayerful Post-It Notes that promise God’s blessings and proclaim God’s love to perfect strangers might as well be Mars – or feel like Hell – depending on your religious inclinations and if you’re a cynical skeptic, like my friend.

Which is why her reaction made me laugh. See, she’s reached out to me via social media over the years – knowing I’m a Pastor – to say how disillusioned she’s become with Christianity and the Church. She didn’t get into specifics, but I have a hunch she means the politics of the “Evangelical Religious Right” and their treatment of women, LGBTQ+ people, and immigrants, among other things. I can laugh at her reaction to that uninvited, presumptuous Post-It Note, because I don’t blame her one bit for her skeptical cynicism – based on all of that.

My friend’s experience alongside Jesus’ marching orders for his disciples this morning about welcoming and being welcomed by others made me think there might be something to “knowing your audience” and “checking your motivation” when it comes to sharing grace and good news with people out there in the world.

Too many Christians can be relentless about their evangelism, either because they really do love their neighbor, because they think it’s on them to convert and save the souls of their neighbors, or both. Which is to say their efforts may be as well-intended as they are misguided, if you ask me. Because the fact is not everyone believes in or wants to be blessed by a God – or told to smile because of a God – they don’t believe in – or that is different from the God they do believe in. And to be told such a thing by a stranger is presumptuous and cringey – if not offensive – to many people, like it or not.

The audacity of it negates or dismisses or fails to care about the recipient’s own faith – or lack of faith – with any measure of respect. It’s akin to demanding we put the 10 Commandments into public school classrooms or making Bible stories part of public school curriculum. It’s like wishing “Merry Christmas” to your Jewish neighbor or “Happy Hanukkah” to your Muslim co-worker.

I think the simple explanation for all of this is that too many Christians take for granted our privileged place in our culture. And we forget that Jesus was living in a culture very different from ours – where he and his followers WERE NOT practicing a faith that was privileged or popular in their neck of the woods. And I think Jesus is saying, today, that we can welcome others more kindly, more faithfully, more graciously, more humbly, more simply, and more practically even, because of that. It’s why he calls us to start with nothing more and nothing less than a cup of cold water.

Jesus uses this image and example of cool water, because it’s something with which his poor, peasant disciples – living on the road in the dust and the heat of Galilee – could relate. Water was a precious commodity in those days, and in that region, whether it was used for cooking or washing or to quench your thirst. Everyone needed it, wanted it and could find a use for it – no matter how much or how little of it you had to offer.

It’s why I think Jesus might be saying, “keep it simple stupid.” Sharing a cup of water is a simple way of encouraging his people to meet the needs of those in need; to meet people where they are; to graciously offer something practical and holy and to let the Holy Spirit of God’s grace do the rest.

So what constitutes a proverbial cup of cold water in our lives? What is it that you could share? What is it that others around you need? What is it – large or small – that could make a difference for someone in your circle? How can you … how can I … how might we … go about offering up these cold cups of water in welcoming ways that matter?

Maybe it’s handing over some cash, a gift card, or a bottle of cold water to the next beggar you pass on the street…

Maybe it’s sharing food by way of our food pantry that doesn’t ascribe to all the rules, road blocks, and requirements that some food ministries demand…

Maybe it’s opening your church up to kids who could use a little more time and practice their English or their reading during summer break…

Maybe, it’s free “Mom Hugs” at a Pride festival for a kid whose own parents refuse to let them back in the house, now that they’re out of the closet…

Maybe it’s mowing your elderly neighbor’s lawn … maybe it’s paying for some other kids’ school supplies in your own child’s classroom … maybe it’s a more generous tip for the server at your favorite restaurant… maybe it’s giving blood in the parking lot at Church on Sunday morning.

I think it’s doing any of the above – and whatever else moves you – quietly, compassionately, humbly, and trusting God’s grace to do whatever God’s grace will do with it.

And I think this, because my Facebook friend from high school, the one who was scandalized by the pink Post-It Note from her Indiana Uber driver – despite her disdain and disillusionment with Christians and the Church these days – has also acknowledged, and found hope, in some of what she’s seen me post and preach online – and in some of what she’s noticed we have going on around here. She’s told me it’s given her a different kind of perspective about the way Christians and the Church can be – in and for the sake of the world. When we get it right, we really do do it with no questions asked, no requirements, no obligations, no pressure, and no strings attached – and people notice and are moved by that.

There are cold cups of water in every one of our lives waiting to be shared with thirsty people all around us who are thirsty for something the world can’t give. May we learn to discern what that looks like and how we might share it generously … with humility and faith … until hearts and lives are changed for the better and until the rewards of the kingdom are poured out for all people, and for the sake of the world.

Amen

How to Live a Life

How to Live a Life

Pastor Cogan

John 1:29-42

The next day he saw Jesus coming toward him and declared, “Here is the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world! This is he of whom I said, ‘After me comes a man who ranks ahead of me because he was before me.’ I myself did not know him, but I came baptizing with water for this reason, that he might be revealed to Israel.”

And John testified, “I saw the Spirit descending from heaven like a dove, and it remained on him. I myself did not know him, but the one who sent me to baptize with water said to me, ‘He on whom you see the Spirit descend and remain is the one who baptizes with the Holy Spirit.’ And I myself have seen and have testified that this is the Chosen One.”

The next day John again was standing with two of his disciples, and as he watched Jesus walk by he exclaimed, “Look, here is the Lamb of God!” The two disciples heard him say this, and they followed Jesus. When Jesus turned and saw them following, he said to them, “What are you looking for?” They said to him, “Rabbi” (which translated means Teacher), “where are you staying?” He said to them, “Come and see.”

They came and saw where he was staying, and they remained with him that day. It was about four o’clock in the afternoon. One of the two who heard John speak and followed him was Andrew, Simon Peter’s brother.

He first found his brother Simon and said to him, “We have found the Messiah” (which is translated Anointed). He brought Simon to Jesus, who looked at him and said, “You are Simon son of John. You are to be called Cephas” (which is translated Peter).

---

A couple of weeks ago, I signed up for Better with Time, a weekly newsletter course. Each week, I get a new tip in my inbox. Something small I can do at a different time of day to add a little more joy and adventure to my life. I’m two weeks in, and so far, I’ve experienced no added joy and absolutely no adventure.

And it’s not because I didn’t try—well, maybe the first one. Week one’s suggestion was to eat chicken parmigiana for breakfast. I mean… who would do such a thing? The point wasn’t nutrition. It was control. The author argues that breakfast can be whatever you want it to be, and that by eating chicken parm for breakfast, you reclaim a sense of freedom over your life. You start thinking outside the bowl.

You can let me know how that goes.

Week two didn’t do much for me either. The challenge was to spend twenty minutes flipping through a dictionary. The most joy I got from that was asking Pastor Mark for a dictionary—who, of course, had one from 1922.

I signed up for this newsletter because, honestly, I could use a little more joy in my day—who couldn’t?

I don’t necessarily need more adventure. But a distraction would be nice. A distraction from the endless updates of insanity that seem to flood our newsfeeds, no matter which one you’re looking at. So when I saw something that promised to tell me how to live my life in a way that might add a little joy—and it was free—I thought, why not?

After all, we are constantly being told how to live a life. By people, by companies, by experts.

We’re told what we should want, what we should value, and then—almost always—we’re offered a solution. Usually at a cost. But our passage today gives us a pretty good picture of how to live a life.

This is Jesus’ first public appearance in the Gospel of John. And instead of John the Baptist doing any baptizing, he shows up here as John the Witness—or John the Testifier. He doesn’t perform a ritual. He points. Literally.

Every time Jesus walks by, John points and says, “Look! There he is!” Honestly, it’s a little odd. John is like a toddler in public, loudly pointing at a stranger: Look at that person! I can’t help but wonder if it was as embarrassing for Jesus as it can be for parents when that happens. But that’s the scene. John sees Jesus, and he wants everyone else to see him too.

The second time John points and shouts at Jesus, two of his disciples finally pay attention.

They hear what John is saying, and something about it catches them. So they begin to follow Jesus.

And then—Jesus turns around.

He looks at them and asks, “What are you looking for?”

In English, the question sounds simple. But it doesn’t really capture the depth of what Jesus is asking.

It’s closer to: What are you seeking? What do you hope to find? What do you long for? The disciples respond to Jesus by asking, “Rabbi, where are you staying?”

It’s a richer question than it first sounds. They aren’t asking for an address. They’re asking where Jesus dwells, where he abides. And that word carries the sense of belonging. It’s the difference between a hotel and a home. You stay at a hotel. But you abide, you belong, at the place you call home. That’s what the disciples are really asking: Where do you dwell? Because we want to dwell there too.

Jesus responds with a simple invitation: “Come and see.” Not an explanation. Not a theological lecture. Not a test to see if they believe the right things or are worthy enough. Just an invitation. Come and see.

And they do. They spend the rest of the day with Jesus. The text doesn’t tell us what happens while they’re there, but something clearly does happen. We know this because before abiding with Jesus, they called him Rabbi, teacher. Respectful. Formal. After spending time with him, they leave calling him Messiah: the anointed one, the one who saves and frees.

Don’t you wonder what happened in between: what they talked about? what they saw? what they experienced? Whatever it was, it changed them. They had to be impressed. Amazed. Astonished. So much so that Andrew immediately goes and tells his brother Simon what he has seen and experienced.

I wonder how Simon took that news. If he’s anything like me, I imagine his response was something like, No way. Are you sure? Prove it. But Andrew doesn’t argue. He doesn’t explain. He simply brings his brother to Jesus. I wonder if he used the same invitation Jesus used with him: Come and see. Because no sooner than he tells his brother the two of them are off to find Jesus.

And that’s when it clicks for me.

I don’t need a newsletter to tell me how to live a more joyful or adventurous life. I don’t need influencers, companies, or marketing campaigns promising they have the product that will finally solve all my problems. What I need in this life is what those two disciples just experienced—because that is living a life: paying attention, being astonished, and telling about it.

And that’s not my framework, but the poet, Mary Oliver’s. In her poem Sometimes, she writes: “How to live a life: Pay attention. Be astonished. Tell about it.”

The disciples paid attention to what John was saying about Jesus. They noticed where he was pointing, and they were willing to look in that direction. That’s often how faith begins, not with certainty, but with curiosity. With listening to those who point us toward Jesus, and being willing to follow their gaze. And sometimes that pointing takes us somewhere we didn’t expect.

Then they abide with Jesus—and they are astonished by him. What a gift. When was the last time you were astonished by Jesus? Truly astonished—filled with wonder, caught off guard, surprised by grace.

Maybe it happens in the quiet of prayer, when you aren’t looking for an answer, and Christ meets you with peace instead.

Maybe it happens through the words of Scripture - when you read a passage for the one hundred and first time and finally hear the promise it has for you. Not because the words changed, but because you did.

Maybe it happens through a song - when the Spirit overwhelms you at the very moment you least expected it.

You know this kind of astonishment when it happens - because it changes you. No longer is Jesus only a teacher, someone with wise words to admire from a distance. He becomes Messiah: the one you follow, the one who meets you, the one who saves and frees. And once we are astonished, just like Simon, we can’t help but tell about it.

About the Messiah we’ve found. About the astonishment we’ve experienced. About the abiding that has changed us.

And the way we tell isn’t by arguing or proving or persuading. It’s by offering the same invitation Jesus offered in the first place: come and see. Hearts and minds aren’t changed by data or debates. They’re changed through stories and experiences.

Siblings in Christ, Jesus gives the same invitation to us: come and see.

Come and abide with me.

Come and be astonished by me.

This is what I hope for us at Cross of Grace. That we are a people who have seen Jesus, and who can’t help but point to him. A community astonished by his mercy, forgiveness, and grace. So that when others are searching, when they know something is missing, when they are looking for more hope, more joy, more belonging in their life, we don’t try to convince them or fix them.

We simply point. We point to Jesus. We point to a place where he abides with us. A place where they will be welcomed and loved.

And we offer the same simple invitation: Come and see.

Come and see why our joy doesn’t come from newsletters, but from being astonished by the grace of Jesus Christ. Come and see a place where you can experience that grace for yourself.

That’s how we live a life: Pay attention. Be astonished. Tell about it.

Amen.