“FOUR SCORE and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this continent, a new nation, conceived in Liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal.
 
Now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether that nation, or any nation so conceived and so dedicated, can long endure. We are met on a great battle-field of that war. We have come to dedicate a portion of that field, as a final resting place for those who here gave their lives that that nation might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this.
 
But, in a larger sense, we cannot dedicate––we cannot consecrate––we cannot hallow––this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it, far above our poor power to add or detract. The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here. It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us -- that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion -- that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain -- that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom -- and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.”
 
Abraham Lincoln
November 19, 1863
 
LITTLE DID I REALIZE — Thursday night as I looked upward toward the monumental face of Abraham Lincoln that I would be repeating this morning the words of his famous Gettysburg Address, which came to me at that time. I was more than 500 miles from where we stand now. I was walking along one of the streets of Louisville, KY. Suddenly, we came upon it — there it was, this monumental statue of Abraham Lincoln.
 
The spotlight was thrown on this face –– black with the tarnish of time, as black as those people who he unchained, to whom he gave a new birth of freedom. Mysteriously, the feature of this statue depicted a man whose life was filled with love –– love for humanity, for nation, love for God. It was like a magnet –– pulling you upward until you found yourself present, with this man of history. 
 
And there the words of history spoke softly to your listening ears: “Fourscore and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this continent a new nation conceived in liberty and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal.”
 
Tenderly I placed these words back into my subconscious where they had come from in this moment of encounter — I walked quietly onward towards the Sheraton Hotel where I was staying.
 
I had planned this morning to preach on the subject “The Unbalanced Diet” to point out the unbalance of our physical–spiritual life. The sermon died with the tragic death of our President at 1:00 PM Friday. 
 
At the time, I was in a car driving back from Louisville. I did not hear the news immediately. It was not until we stopped in St. Louis at 1:35 (more than an hour after he was shot) that I learned the tragic news. It was in the Men’s Room of the Ramada Inn, an employee, dressed in work clothes with tears in his eyes at the death of our President. It was a heavy blow to me as it was to everyone I came in contact with. The President of the United States of America was dead. 
 
The President was killed by a man whose life was filled with hate. He did not hate the President or America; he hated himself. To say that he was a lover of Russia and the Communists and for this reason he killed, our president — are gullible and senseless words.
 
He did not love Russia.
 
How could he? 
 
He did not love himself.
 
His unstable mind may have favored Communist thinking, but he loved no one; for you cannot love one person and hate another — anymore than you love God and hate humanity.
 
Listening on our radio from St. Louis to Kansas City, we heard reporters from all over the world. While many of our stations in the early hours following his death were still playing “Rock-N-Roll” Europe was listening to funeral music. Their networks announced the news and immediately and switched from their regular program. Willy Brandt in West Berlin called upon his people to place a lighted candle in every window. The reporter from Moscow spoke these words: “A general condolence has been expressed by the Russian people.” 
 
All across the world, people were shocked at the word of the President’s death. Here in America, a Nation Wept. It still is weeping. Theaters which closed bear no shame — no sign of weakness, but the love that every American must-have for their President. 
 
In such a moment the walls — which I believe are necessary in holding our country, together –– the walls which separate one political party from another come down. People from the north and south and east and west forget their political differences and weep the tears of suffering for their leader who is dead. 
 
Why? — came the voice from Rome. Why? — came the voice from London England, Paris France, Bonn Germany, Moscow Russia, Ontario Canada, Sidney Australian, Tokyo Japan. 
 
Why? Came the voices from every home in a nation that is still weeping. Why? There is but one answer: for the freedom of humankind. This is why Lincoln was assassinated –– and Garfield and McKinley –– and John F. Kennedy.
 
These men who served as our Presidents dedicated their lives to the freedom and dignity and respect that man should have and must have for one another. They did not die in vain unless we, who live on allow America to be destroyed and our Freedom taken from us.
 
And this goes much deeper than any animosity we have towards those countries we call our enemies. You do not preserve freedom through hate. You do not create freedom out of coercion. 
 
The preservation of the world depends upon our accepting one another despite these differences or ideological thinking. It is this balance of power that has thus far preserved America –– the wall of differences between one party and another. 
 
In a very real sense, the death of our President should make us re-think our own part in the political structure of our nation. It should make us read and re-read American History until every stream, and avenue, is discovered anew. It should keep us abreast of this land, causing us to give something instead of always wanting something.
 
We moan of taxation — our minds are burdened with grievances and complaints; and yet did you ever stop, to think that this is a part of your freedom. Our blessings in this land are so great that all we have time for is to complain; we have no time to go down on our knees and thank God for America.
 
0 beautiful for spacious skies,
For amber waves of grain,
For purple mountain majesties,
Above the fruited plain!
 
And crown thy good with brotherhood
From sea to shining sea.
 
The continuation and preservation of our land are no longer dependent upon the 35th President of the United States, who gave his life for that cause. It falls upon our 36th President, upon our willingness to work with him and pray for and love him. Symbolically speaking this is a new birth of freedom, which has arisen out of this tragic event.
 
Its survival will depend upon the wholeness of its creation: and its wholeness in turn depends upon God. Who in the first instant gave to us this new birth of freedom. Where then shall we go from here as Americans, as Christians? 
 
There is only one place we can go — or one place from where we can start. We must start with prayer. First, a prayer of sorrow for our President who lost his life for this freedom. Second, a prayer for our new President.
 
Jesus said to her, “Your brother will rise again.”
 
Martha said to him, “I know that he will rise again in the resurrection at the last day. 
 
“Jesus said to her, “I am the resurrection and the life; he who believes in me, though he dies, yet shall he live, and whoever lives and believes in me shall never die.”  Do you believe this? “.... Yes, Lord, I believe.”
 
And in a little while he said to her again; “Did I not tell you that if you would believe you would see the glory of God?”
 
And he cried out with a loud voice, “Lazarus, come out.”
 
The dead man came out, his hands and feet bound with bandages, and his face wrapped with a cloth. Jesus said to them, “Unbind him, and let him go.”
 
This is what Jesus is saying to our deceased President, to our New President — even to you and to me. 
 
“Unbind him, and let him go!” 
 
This is your new birth of freedom — to go now; go stripped of that which has bound you unto death —- go in His name and for His sake.
 
In closing might there be a moment of silent prayer. There may be those who would prefer to come and kneel at the rail here this morning. If you feel so compelled — do so. Come quickly and go quickly so that others may come too.
 
Breathe on me, Breath of God, 
fill me with life anew, 
that I may love the way you love, 
and do what you would do. 
 
For all the saints who from labors rest,
Who Thee by faith before the world confessed,
Thy Name, O Jesus be forever blest.
Alleluia, Alleluia! 
 
 
 
 
 
Sermon delivered at Valley View Methodist Church in Overland Park, Kansas, on November 24, 1963.

 
THOUGHTS by Edna K. Starbuck
 
They come to my mind at night mostly
when I want to rest or sleep
Or – just to be still.
They come sure as day.
Like footsteps in the dark.
Quiet and far away at first.
Then closer and heavier,
Almost staring, it seems, 
Into – my mind's eye.
Not giving me any peace
Until I get up to let them out.
Then with pen and paper
I sit down and set them free.
 
 
THIS POEM, written by my wife, exemplifies her poetic talent and her ability to engage with the deeper meaning of life. We have been married for nearly twenty years, and no expectations or strings have been attached through the years. She has always set me free (much more than I have set her free) to do what God intended me to do with my life. And to be as creative as she is, with the thoughts she puts down on paper, with the movements of her hand and the aid of a pen.
 
Such a gift of freedom comes only through one’s absolute commitment to Jesus Christ, who can set us free. As a youth stated at our Texas Annual Conference a few days ago: “Once we make this unconditional commitment, we are ‘set free’ to love others no matter who they are or what they look like.”
 
It is 5:57 AM, Thursday morning, June 6th. I have just returned to my motel room with a cup of hot coffee and the tragic news of the death of Senator Robert F. Kennedy. The morning before, I woke to find my radio and, later, television telling of his hospitalization following the blast of shots, which wounded five other people at the Ambassador Hotel in Los Angeles. I thought again of the lyrics of a Rodgers & Hammerstein song. A song I have quoted from on several occasions. The words seem so appropriate that I offer them to you, your children, and mine –– once again.
 
You've Got to Be Carefully Taught
South Pacific – Rodgers & Hammerstein
 
You've got to be taught to hate and fear,
You've got to be taught from year to year,
It's got to be drummed in your dear little ear
You've got to be carefully taught.
 
You've got to be taught to be afraid of people
Whose eyes are oddly made,
And people whose skin is a different shade,
You've got to be carefully taught.
 
You've got to be taught before it's too late
Before you are six or seven or eight,
To hate all the people your relatives hate
You've got to be carefully taught.
 
The same hatred for the Jewish people by Robert F. Kennedy's assassin is possessed by many people in this land, this community, and churches for people of another race. Most of the time, its possession is on an unconscious level, but every so often, something is said, or some action is taken, and all that pus–flowing ugliness and hatred comes to the surface and filters the air with its fear, and poison, which intoxicates –– the best of us.
 
I stood in this pulpit a stranger in your midst a year ago. My sermon title was You Are Accepted. As I talked about your acceptance and mine and how it comes about through God's grace, I shared the following words of theologian Paul Tillich with you.
 
“In the light of this grace we perceive the power of in our relation to others and to ourselves. We experience the grace of being able to look frankly into the eyes of another, the miraculous grace of reunion of life with life. We experience the grace of understanding each other's words. We understand not merely the literal meaning of the words, but also, even when they are harsh or angry. For even then there is a longing to break through the walls of separation.
 
We experience the grace of being able to accept the life of another, even if it be hostile and harmful to us, for, through grace, we know that it belongs to the same Ground (the same God) to which we belong and by which we have been accepted. We experience the grace which is able to overcome the tragic separation of the sexes, of the generations, of the nations, of the races, and even the utter strangeness between man and nature. Sometimes grace appears in all these separations to reunite us with those to whom we belong. For life belongs to life.” – Paul Tillich
 
Do you remember the death of Dr. Tom Dooley, the great American Missionary in Laos?
 
In his book The Night They Burned the Mountain, he tells of the personal battle he fought against cancer while healing the sick in the jungles of Asia.
 
At first, Tom Dooley was unwilling to be accepted by his Creator even though he ministered to the people of Laos to set them free. In this instance, his unwillingness to accept his Creator was his unwillingness to face the reality of his disease. Still, such acceptance was to come to this great person, and he was to write; 
 
“From my hospital bed in New York with the same white light of revelation I had known once several years before, I saw what I must do. After Communion that morning, Tuesday, the first of September, my God, and my dream commanded me.
 
I must, into the burnt soil of my personal mountain of sadness. plant the new seedlings of my life –– I must continue to live. I must cultivate my fields of food, to feed those who cannot feed themselves.
 
The concept came to me as strongly and as powerfully as if a peal of bronze bells proclaimed it. There was no more self-sadness, no darkness deep inside; no gritty annoyance at anyone or anything. No anger at God for my cancer, no hostility to anyone. I was out of the fog of confusion standing under the clear light of duty. The jagged, ugly cancer scar went no deeper than my flesh. There was no cancer in my spirit. The Lord saw to that. I would keep my appetite for fruitful activity and for a high quality of life. 
 
Whatever time was left, whether it was year or a decade, would be more than just a duration. I would continue to help the clots and clusters of withered and wretched in Asia to the utmost of my ability. The words of Camus rang through, “ln the midst of winter I suddenly found that there was in me an invincible summer.”
 
You are accepted! No strings attached. In giving your life to God you are set free. The children of Tom Dooley's favorite Texas family wrote him from Ft. Worth, having composed new words to the tune “Hang Down Your Head, Tom Dooley.”
 
Lift up your heart, Tom Dooley,
Your work will never die.
You taught us to love our neighbor
And not just to pass him by.
 
We'll pray for you, Tom Dooley,
Your cure and your patients, too.
We’ll send in our dimes and dollars
For work that's left to do
 
Lift up your head, Tom Dooley,
Life up your head, don't cry.
Lift up your head, Tom Dooley,
Cause you ain't a-goin to die.
 
Even though his physical life was taken, Tom Dooley never died, and neither did John Kennedy, Martin Luther King, Robert Kennedy, or all the others who have given themselves for freedom's sake. So much more significant than you and me, so far ahead of us in our thinking than we can and must but follow them. No strings attached.
 
It is a new day shared by all faiths and all denominations, by all who will participate in it and not be afraid of losing their own life. For if they lose it for His sake, they shall find it.
 
This was my first annual conference of Methodism in the state of Texas.  I was deeply impressed by the growth and creativity that went on in Houston this past week.
 
As the Pharisees would have denied the woman communion with Jesus, we often refuse those whom we consider less righteous than ourselves a fellowship in the Church of Jesus Christ.
 
“Then he turned to the woman and said to Simon; do you see this woman? I came into your home, and you gave me no water for my feet, but she has washed my feet with her tears and dried them with her hair. You did not welcome me with a kiss, but she has not stopped kissing my feet since I came. You provided no oil for my head, but she has covered my feet with perfume. I tell you, then, the great love she has shown proves that her many sins have been forgiven.”
 
I dream that we, too, shall be forgiven for all our sins with no strings attached. That is, only the string of love that we might love others. I have a dream that the good in this church, in this nation, in this world will overcome the evil, be it the violence of an assassin’s bullet or the verbal expression of utter hate and hostility.
 
No wonder one great martyr was able to write, “I have a dream that one day every valley shall be exalted, every hill and mountain shall be made low. The rough places will be made plain, and the crooked places will be made straight. With this faith, we will be able to hew out of the mountains of despair a stone of hope. With this faith, we will be able to work together, pray together, and struggle together...This will be the day when all of God's children will be able to sing with new meaning, 'Let freedom ring.' 
 
So, let freedom ring from the prodigious hilltops of New Hampshire. Let freedom ring from the mighty mountains of New York. But not only that. Let freedom ring from Stone Mountain of Georgia. Let freedom ring from every hill and molehill of Mississippi, from every mountainside; then we allow freedom to ring when we let it ring from every city and every hamlet, from every state and every city, we will be able to speed up that day when all of God's children, black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual, 'Free at last, Free at last, Great God a-mighty, We are free at last.'” 
 
—Martin Luther King Jr., I Have a Dream
 
 
Amen
 
 
 
Sermon delivered at St. Paul’s United Methodist Church in Beaumont, Texas, on June 9, 1968 – three days after the death of Senator Robert Francis Kennedy.
 

Palm Sunday — April 7, 1968

 
 
THREE DAYS AFTER the assassination of Martin Luther King Jr., a day declared by then–President Lyndon B. Johnson as a national day of mourning, for Christians, it was Palm Sunday.
 
THERE IS NO ROOM for violence and destruction in this great country, whether it be the rioting and violence of Black America or the subtle and poisonous mind of racial prejudice, which reaches out and cuts us from within, time after time, to destroy and dehumanize our civilization. 
 
Jesus, —knowing he would meet death, returned to Jerusalem. He wept bitterly over that city. He died for that city and the world, but his truth goes marching on.
 
Zechariah 9:9 – The Coming Ruler of God’s People
 
Rejoice greatly, O daughter of Zion!
    Shout aloud, O daughter of Jerusalem!
Lo, your king comes to you;
    triumphant and victorious is he,
humble and riding on an ass,
    on a colt the foal of an ass.
 
Zechariah (9:9), the prophet, has spoken. In 530 B.C., he “began to prophesy,” the period following the Jewish people's return from exile. It was also the period of Jewish history when the people's hearts and minds were heavy and filled with hopelessness and discouragement; we catch something of this in the 5th chapter of Lamentations.
 
Lamentations 5:1 – A Plea for Mercy 
 
“Remember, O Lord, what has befallen us; 
behold, and see our disgrace! 
Our inheritance has been turned over to strangers, 
our homes to aliens.” 
 
Into this setting, Zechariah came. Empathizing with the feelings of his people — reaching out to them, loving them — knowing of their discouragement and hopelessness, he gave them hope. He prophesied, saying: 
 
Zechariah 10:6 & 12 – Restoration of Judah and Israel
 
“I will strengthen the house of Judah, 
and I will save the house of Joseph. 
I will bring them back because I have compassion on them, 
and they shall be as though I had not rejected them; 
for I am the Lord their God and I will answer them. 

12 I will make them strong in the Lord 
and they shall glory in his name,” 
says the Lord.” 
 
Zechariah has spoken… 
 
Zechariah 9:9 – The Coming Ruler of God’s People
 
“Rejoice greatly, O daughter of Zion! 
Shout aloud, O Daughter of Jerusalem! 
Lo, your king comes to you 
triumphant and victorious is he, 
humble and riding on an ass, 
on a colt the foal of an ass.” 
 
And some five hundred years later, he did come. He marched triumphantly and victoriously into the city of Jerusalem.
 
He came riding an ass as Zechariah had prophesied.
 
“Spread on the ground before him were garments and branches of palm trees.”
 
“Hosanna to the Son of David! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord.” — “Hosanna in the Highest!”
 
Use Our Imagination
 
We, too, can see Him —there. He is among the throng. A vast multitude has come out to –– greet him. Some are waving. Some are shouting. Some are present out of curiosity; I know of no greater description of this event than in Lloyd C. Douglas's book, The Robe, where the enslaved Greek Demetrius was caught in the press of that crowd. 
 
THE ROBE  by Lloyd C. Douglas – Excerpts from Chapter V
 
“Standing on tiptoe for an instant in the swaying crowd, Demetrius caught a fleeting glimpse of the obvious centre of interest, a brown-haired, bareheaded, well–favoured Jew. A tight little circle had been left open for the slow advance of the shaggy white donkey on which he rode. It instantly occurred to Demetrius that this coronation project was an impromptu affair for which no preparation had been made.
 
Certainly, there were no efforts to bedeck the pretender with royal regalia. Instead, he was clad in a simple brown mantle with no decorations of any kind, and the handful of men — his intimate friends, no doubt — who tried to shield him from the pressure of the throng wore the commonest sort of country garb. 
 
Again Demetrius, regaining his lost balance, stretched to a full height for another look at the man who somehow evoked all this wild adulation. It was difficult to believe that this sort of person could be expected to inflame a mob into some bold action. Yet, instead of receiving the applause with an air of triumph or satisfaction, the unresponsive man on the white donkey seemed sad about the whole affair. He looked as if he would gladly have had none of it. 
 
‘Can you see him?’ called the little Athenian, who had stuck fast in the sticky-hot pack an arm's length away. 
 
Demetrius nodded without turning his head. 
 
‘Old man?’
 
‘No, not very,’ answered Demetrius, candidly remote. 
 
‘What does he look like?’ shouted the Athenian impatiently. 
 
Demetrius shook his head — and his hand, too — signaling that he couldn’t be bothered now, especially with questions as hard to answer as this one.
 
‘Look like a king?’ yelled the little Greek, guffawing boisterously. 
 
Demetrius did not reply. Tugging at his impounded garments, he crushed his way forward. The surging mass, pushing hard from the rear, now carried him on until he was borne almost into the very hub of the procession that edged along, step-by-step, keeping pace with the plodding donkey... 
 
...Now, there was a temporary blocking of the way, and the noisy procession stopped. The man on the white donkey straightened as if roused from a reverie, sighed deeply, and slowly turned his head. Demetrius watched with parted lips and a pounding heart… 
 
…Everyone was shouting — all but the Corinthian slave, whose throat was so dry he couldn't have shouted, who had no inclination to shout, who wished they would all be quiet, quiet! It wasn't the time or place for shouting. Quiet! This man wasn't the sort of person one shouted at or shouted for. Quiet! That was what this moment called for — Quiet! 
 
Gradually, the brooding eyes moved over the crowd until they came to rest on the strained, bewildered face of Demetrius. The eyes calmly appraised Demetrius. They neither widened nor smiled; even so, in some indefinable manner, they held Demetrius in a grip so firm it was almost a physical compulsion. The message, they communicated, was something other than sympathy, something more vital than friendly concern; a sort of stabilizing power that swept away all such negations as slavery, poverty, or any other afflicting circumstance. Demetrius was suffused with the glow of this curious kinship. Blind with sudden tears, he elbowed through the throng and reached the roadside. The uncouth Athenian, bursting with curiosity, inopportunely accosted him. 
 
‘See him—close up?’ he asked. 
 
Demetrius nodded; and, turning away, began to retrace his steps toward his abandoned duty. 
 
“Crazy?” persisted the Athenian, trudging alongside. 
 
‘No.’
 
‘King?’
 
‘No,’ muttered Demetrius, soberly, ‘not a king.’
 
‘What is he, then?’ demanded the Athenian, piqued by the Corinthian's aloofness.
 
‘I don't know,’ mumbled Demetrius, in a puzzled voice, ‘but—he is something more important than a king.’”
 
Something more than a King… 
There amid the throng were all sorts of people. Let us see if we can identify them, the subject, and the object. Now we are standing in front of a mirror —the recollection of the crowd comes back to us. What do we see? 
 
First, we see the curious ones. Not truly caring for the man Jesus, not knowing who it is that has attracted the crowd's attention, but present because of the throng. A crowd was conforming again to the winds that swept across Jerusalem that day and in the days immediately ahead. 
 
There is the blind man. 
 
The woman caught in the act of adultery.
 
The disabled boy.
 
And, there, a young man who cannot hear… 
 
Can we find ourselves in this crowd? 
 
What infirm condition do we take with us? Are we there, and are we here this morning out of curiosity, or have we come searching for a meaningful faith? 
 
Second, there are those in the throng who have come once again to trap Jesus. But, now they are more sure than ever that they will reach their goal –– accomplish their task.
 
Paying taxes to Caesar 
 
Healing on the Sabbath 
 
Stoning to death a woman who sinned. 
 
She broke the commandment, “Thou shalt not commit adultery.” 
 
And then there is Judas! Someone used him. 
 
Politics — Using people.
 
Something More Than Palms  
Third, the most important person in that Palm Sunday throng was Jesus himself. 
 
Something More Than A King.  
 
Yes, — King of kings and Lord of lords. 
 
He was the Saviour of the world. God had sent him to save the world, but the world knew him not. Only a few of his people understood this man Jesus. Only a few men today understand him and willingly give their lives for him; Jesus was 33 when he died. 
 
He healed the sick. He caused the blind to see the lame to walk. Even so, such miracles as these did not kill Jesus. It was the political, economic, and social changes which he advocated that killed him. The same injustice he spoke against finally put him to death. 
 
The hatred of humanity, not the love he taught and exemplified, brought him to that cross on Calvary. 
 
The man killed by an assassin's bullet last Thursday night was crucified because, like Jesus, he also advocated political, economic, and social justice for all men. I do not want to talk about Martin Luther King, Jr. this morning.  It Is Too Painful…
 
And yet, I must; even though I know you are exhausted with the subject, I am also exhausted. It was not my intention even to mention race and prejudice in today's sermon, and of the things I have prayed about since I came to you is that I would not alienate you or cause you to think that I was trying to coerce the love which God has given me for the black people on you. 
 
I do not want to do either of these things this morning. 
So, I'm going to stop preaching — right now! 
 
I will talk to you as you speak to me when there is a death in your family. I do not seek your respect for the man who meant so much to me; I only seek your love in sharing with me the pain and suffering that this event of history has thrust upon me in the tragic death and loss of my brother. 
 
I talk out of deep pain, sorrow, and grief. It was in 1963 that I first came to know Martin Luther King. I was fresh out of seminary and had struggled with some of life's problems, including racial prejudice. However, I never took it seriously. 
 
A part of my upbringing was to play it safe; don't be controversial. Stay away; don’t become involved.
 
And then I received this letter from Martin Luther King, and I cried, and sometimes I still cry when I read it. This is where my brother has been misunderstood because people have seen only the violence, which often followed the non-violent movement. 
 
Martin Luther King, Jr. never carried a gun or a knife from the day he walked into the Baptist Church in Montgomery, Alabama, following his seminary and doctorate at Boston University. Instead, he preached love, and he died because of it. I wish there were time to read the whole letter but let me complete it by sharing the last few paragraphs. 
 
A Letter from Birmingham Jail  –– A vigorous, eloquent reply to criticism expressed by eight other clergymen. 
 
“Things are different now. So often the contemporary church is a weak, ineffectual voice with an uncertain sound. So often, it is an arch-defender of the status quo. Far from being disturbed by the presence of the church, the power structure of the average community is consoled by the church’s silent — and often even vocal — sanction of things as they are.
 
Nevertheless, the judgment of God is upon the church as never before. If today's church does not recapture the sacrificial spirit of the early church, it will lose its authenticity, forfeit the loyalty of millions, and be dismissed as an irrelevant social club with no meaning for the 20th century. Every day I meet young people whose disappointment with the church has turned into outright disgust.
 
Perhaps — I have once again been too optimistic. Is organized religion too inextricably bound to the status quo to save our nation and the world? Perhaps — I must turn my faith to the inner spiritual church, the church within the church, as the true ecclesia and the hope of the world. But again, I am thankful to God that some noble souls from the ranks of organized religion have broken loose from the paralyzing chains of conformity and joined us as active partners in the struggle for freedom.  
 
They have left their secure congregations and walked the streets of Albany, Georgia, with us. They have gone down the highways of the south on torturous rides for freedom. Yes, they have gone to jail with us. Some have been kicked out of their churches; have lost the support of their bishops and fellow ministers.  
 
But they have acted in the faith that right defeated is stronger than evil triumphant. Their witness has been the spiritual salt that has preserved the true meaning of the gospel in these troubled times. They have carved a tunnel of hope through the dark mountain of disappointment.”
 
Something More than Palms! 
 
Jesus — knowing he would meet death — returned to Jerusalem. He wept bitterly over that city. He died for that city and the world, but his truth goes marching on.
 
There is no room for violence and destruction in this great country, whether it be the rioting and violence of Black America or the subtle and poisonous mind of prejudice, which reaches out and cuts us from within, time after time, to destroy and dehumanize our civilization. 
 
I would pray that both groups might reorder their lives rather than have a hell on earth, which is more than a possibility. Then, we might strive to have one nation, under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all. 
 
Let us pray! 
 
 
 
Historical Note: In the aftermath of Martin Luther King Jr.’s assassination, there followed a nationwide wave of riots in more than 100 cities; this was the most significant wave of social unrest the United States had experienced since the Civil War. People were scared, and White America was frightened. This sermon was delivered in this social and racial context at St. Paul’s United Methodist Church in Beaumont, Texas.
 
Two months later, on June 6, 1968, the nation witnessed the assassination of Robert F. Kennedy.
 
Sermon delivered at St. Paul’s United Methodist Church in Beaumont, Texas, on Sunday – April 7, 1968 – three days after the assassination of Martin Luther King Jr.

 
  


Personal Note from the Publisher/CEO of Saint Julian Press — Ron Starbuck:​

I was nearly sixteen years old at the time and remember so clearly still, standing in the den of the parsonage where we lived in Beaumont, Texas, holding my father as he cried over the tragic death  of Martin Luther King Jr., and what it meant to the nation. 

​A week or two after the assassination, a group of students, both black and white, from South Park High School gathered at the parsonage to talk about Martin Luther King, Jr.’s death. My parents welcomed them with open arms, and my father led the conversation we had that evening. As teenagers growing up and maturing soon into young adults, we needed someone in authority to listen to us. We needed a community, so we created one that evening. We came together to find some healing and cast off the bonds of enmity and violence.
 
Two months later, on June 6, 1968, the nation witnessed the assassination of Robert F. Kennedy.
 
Sermon delivered at St. Paul’s United Methodist Church in Beaumont, Texas, on Sunday – April 7, 1968 – three days after the assassination of Martin Luther King Jr.

​

​“For God so loved the world that he gave us his only begotten Son.”
 
 
TWO MONTHS AGO, I sat on a park bench on Esplanade Street overlooking the Missouri River. I'm sure it was the same bench I had sat on many times during my teenage years. I was in Leavenworth, Kansas, once again, where I graduated from high school in 1945.
 
Fifty–five years have passed; the buses no longer were in operation, the drug store where I worked was gone, and the high school building had just been closed for its final year and sold to First United Methodist Church, next door, where three of our four children had been baptized.
 
I was alone in the early-morning hours, looking over the river again, but in so many ways for the first time. Heraclitus, the ancient Greek philosopher, was right. You can never step into the same waters twice. The river keeps flowing– day after day, year after year. You see it repeatedly — each time is like the first time, for you always see something different.
 
On this particular morning, I saw my father walking beside me, warning me of the dangerous waters below, voicing very softly but discreetly that I must never try to swim in the Missouri River. It is too treacherous with so many whirlpools ready to take you under at any moment.
 
I also saw my oldest daughter when she was only nine. I had taken her there to tell her that I had decided to enter the ministry. I explained to her that we would leave Leavenworth in a few short weeks. At that moment, I looked across the river. And suddenly realized that while I was in Kansas, the state of Missouri was just on the other side. I saw all of this again for the first time.
 
You surely must know what I'm talking about, seeing something again but for the first time. How many patients have come into my office over the years, and on their tenth or eleventh visit, they notice a picture or a decor for the first time, even though it has always been there? I've erred a few times like this by complimenting my wife over a new dress. One she has previously worn, so she reminds me. But I'm seeing it now again for the first time.
 
I have experienced such a sensation in reading and studying the Bible. I want to address that area this morning. Please allow yourselves to get caught up with me in such an experience, so you can understand and share the unfolding of a beautiful picture and work of art in what we have come to call The Good Book.
 
As an adult, I still remember the Bible stories I learned as a child from the Old Testament. Stories like “Noah & The Ark,” “Eli & Samuel," “David & Goliath,” the “Wisdom of Solomon,” and “Daniel in the Lion's Den.” Years after returning to the university, at the age of 31, we studied and read these same stories from the Old Testament in my classes. It was like reading the stories again but for the first time.
 
In my earlier years, I had no idea that the Old Testament was divided into three categories — The Law, The Prophets, and The Writings. I learned that the Old Testament was the chronicle of the Jewish people’s struggle. Their everyday joys and hardships. And how they were caught up in their economic, political, social, and religious world. I learned about their faith — the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. I discovered that the first five books were considered the Law or Torah in Hebrew — and served as a value system and a way of life for the Jewish people.
 
The books of Joshua, Judges, Samuel, and Kings are known in the Hebrew Bible as the Former Prophets, while such books as Isaiah, Jeremiah, Amos, and Hosea belong to the Latter Prophets. These books help us to understand the Jewish people's faith in their struggle between good and evil. The Writings consist of such books as Psalms, Proverbs, Job, and Ecclesiastes. They offer us lessons of wisdom, give us comfort, and often challenge our faith.
 
Each time I turn the pages of the Old Testament, it is like reading it again, but for the first time. God chose Moses to set his people free, who were held in bondage by the Egyptians, crying out to them, “Let my  people go.”
 
God is still imploring us to listen. After I left prison service at the United States Penitentiary, Leavenworth, Kansas, and found myself as a parish minister, I started writing a book yet to be finished. I gave it a simple title, Out of a Prison to a Prison House. I saw many people in those early days who were very active within the church but still in bondage.
 
They were very religious, attending church every Sunday and actively involved in church life, but utterly oblivious to what was happening in their world. The Bible, for them, was full of events that occurred several thousand years ago. And in which there was little they could relate to in what was happening in the present moment.
 
The Bible comes alive only as we allow ourselves to become a part of that historical narrative, which set the initial course for where we are today.  It parallels our very existence, for our nation is much like the nation of Israel when the prophets of old echoed their voices of proclamation.
 
Vision of the Plumb Line
 
7 Thus He showed me: Behold, the Lord stood on a wall made with a plumb line, with a plumb line in His hand. 8 And the Lord said to me, “Amos, what do you see?”
 
And I said, “A plumb line.”
 
Then the Lord said:
 
“Behold, I am setting a plumb line
In the midst of My people Israel;
I will not pass by them anymore.
The high places of Isaac shall be desolate,
And the sanctuaries of Israel shall be laid waste.
I will rise with the sword against the house of Jeroboam.”
 
Amos prophesied to people enjoying wealth and prosperity but neglecting those in need. Our nation spends millions of dollars investigating each other's political party while there is no money for prescription drugs with those on Medicare. At one point in his utterance, Amos says:
 
18 Woe to you who desire the day of the Lord! For what good is the day of the Lord to you? It will be darkness, and not light. – Amos 5:18 (NKJV)
 
Let's paraphrase that today by asking: Why are you waiting for the Second Coming? Why would you look for and have Christ the Messiah return? Of course, this would be of no avail to you. But let justice roll down like waters and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream.
 
Again – For The First Time!
 
On Father's Day this year, I found myself with my two sons, attending church, breaking bread, and sharing our lives. My oldest son gave me a book I had not previously read. It was by Marcus J. Borg, Professor of Religion and Culture at Oregon State University. He titled it, Meeting Jesus Again For The First Time. Now you know the spin-off for the title of my sermon.
 
What impressed me so much about his book is his affirmation of my understanding of Jesus' life and ministry. Remember the words of Paul, “When I was a child, I spoke like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child; when I became an adult, I put an end to childish ways.” 
 
We have a granddaughter who just turned eleven. We have noticed lately that she acts more like a young lady than a child. As she grows older, her roles are shifting, and her thought patterns and reasoning abilities are shifting and evolving.
 
As a child, I took Christ’s miracle stories to be just that – a bit of magic like we read about in the Harry Potter books. I'm on my fourth one. Which ones are you reading? But then — perhaps not; after all, magic is for kids. As a child, I thought it was cool how Jesus healed the leper, the woman hemorrhaging, or the blind man from birth.
 
I had some idea what it must be like not to see, but I had no idea what leprosy was and certainly had no knowledge about the woman hemorrhaging.
 
Reading the book Meeting Jesus Again For The First Time affirmed my belief that Jesus was not religious but spiritual. There is much difference between the two, for a religious person may belong to an institutional church, be they a Christian, Jew, Muslim, Buddhist, or another faith. On the other hand, a spiritual person cares deeply for humanity. They care for humanity without considering a person’s religious or nonreligious beliefs. Jesus was a spiritual person; Jesus was a compassionate person full of God’s lovingkindness.
 
Looking back over the years, my life's journey has been fulfilled in many good ways. My cup has overflowed many times. I have been blessed because I have touched the lives of so many beautiful people. Two months ago, when I made my trek to Leavenworth, I rented a bike for the first time. I rode up and down those hills, just as I had when I delivered prescriptions for a local pharmacy as a teenager.
 
I soon learned that those hills were much more challenging to climb than 60 years ago. My bike then was not a 12-speed, but multiple speeds, depending on how fast I pedaled. Those were the days when older people had no means of transportation or not enough gas for their cars; in World War II, they rationed gas. Or people might be too sick to leave their homes, so they waited patiently and gratefully for you to deliver their medicine.
  
I remember my years in O.R. in the VA Hospital in Leavenworth, trying to calm and assure the pre-op patients that they would be okay. And my years of prison service found me interacting with criminals who were still children of God despite their offenses. My latest gift was given to me two years ago when I was asked to work with sex offenders.
 
Our last session before Christmas this past year found me putting two chairs in the middle of the room. One by one, I would have a member within the group sit in one of the chairs while I was in the other. I would take three or four minutes to say positive things to the person and end by saying, “I love you.” A seventy–four–year–old was so emotionally overcome. He said this is the first time I have been told that someone loves me since I committed my offense.
 
My favorite story in the Bible is the Prodigal Son, the one we read in Scripture this morning. As a child and even a teenager, I thought that was neat – spending all the money his father gave him. And then head back home. That's what a lot of young people do today. They move out of their parent’s house, find they can't make it, and return home. 
 
There is a vast difference between youth in society today and the prodigal son, yet they share a common humanity. Something very unusual happened to this young man. He came to himself. Now, what does that mean? It means he turned around. He was converted — that's what conversion means — to turn around. 
 
His father loved him so much that he set him free – even giving him his inheritance. It is often painful to let our children go. We tend to hang on to them long after they are gone. We still want to tell them what to do and how to live their lives. The Father of the prodigal son let him go. He wasn't even sure where his son had gone. He didn't know what had happened to him or that he had lost all his money. He only knew he loved him. His love and compassion were so great; that he ran toward him – embracing and kissing him. 
 
The father threw a celebration because he was elated. He gave his son the best robe they could find, a ring on his hand, and shoes on his feet. Then they killed the fatted calf, so they would eat and make merry. 
 
What a celebration! Why? 
 
Because… “This, my son, was lost and now is found.” 
 
There are so many people lost and alone out “there” in the world. We need to have compassion for them. This is our calling, our ministry. 
 
“For God so loved the world that he gave us his only Son.”
 
This is God's gift to us that we might love, even as we are loved. 
 
Hear what our Lord Jesus saith: 
Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with
all thy soul, and with all thy mind. This is the first and great
commandment. And the second is like unto it: Thou shalt
love thy neighbor as thyself. On these two commandments
hang all the Law and the Prophets.    Matthew 22:37-40
 
Amen.
 
 
 
 
Rev. Robert Paul Starbuck MDiv, PhD

Sermon delivered at Sunset UMC, Pasadena, Texas, July 2000.

Do you see what I see? A star, a star, dancing in the night...
 
 
"Do You Hear What I Hear?"

Lyrics by Noël Regney & Music by Gloria Shayne Baker

Said the night wind to the little lamb,
Do you see what I see?
Way up in the sky, little lamb,
Do you see what I see?
A star, a star, dancing in the night
With a tail as big as a kite,
With a tail as big as a kite.

Said the little lamb to the shepherd boy,
Do you hear what I hear?
Ringing through the sky, shepherd boy,
Do you hear what I hear?
A song, a song high above the trees
With a voice as big as the sea,
With a voice as big as the sea.

Said the shepherd boy to the mighty king,
Do you know what I know?
In your palace warm, mighty king,
Do you know what I know?
A Child, a Child shivers in the cold-
Let us bring him silver and gold,
Let us bring him silver and gold.

Said the king to the people everywhere,
Listen to what I say!
Pray for peace, people, everywhere,
Listen to what I say!
The Child, the Child sleeping in the night
He will bring us goodness and light,
He will bring us goodness and light.
 
 
"Do You Hear What I Hear?" is a song first written in October 1962, with lyrics by Noël Regney and music by Gloria Shayne Baker, they were married at the time.  The song was written as a plea for peace during the Cuban Missile Crisis, but it is widely known now as a Christmas Carol.

It is still an important message to share even now at this time. Especially, in a weary world where it is long past time to end the religious strife that divides humankind so often.  To come to some understanding of our common humanity, one that takes us beyond the tenets of any faith, in an interfaith dialogue and acceptance, as surely as Jesus taught us to love one another.

    It will soon be Christmas Eve and then Christmas morning!
    Do you hear what I hear? Do you hear the song high above the trees?
    Do you see what I see? Do you see the star dancing in the night?
    Do you know the child shivering in the cold?
    Listen to what I say: He has brought us goodness and light.

Thus, for Christians, begins the first day of Christmas. There will be twelve entire days before we arrive in Bethlehem to offer our gifts of gold and frankincense and myrrh, which will take place on January 6, another Christian feast day called Epiphany.

Epiphany means to manifest, to see a spiritual event unfold. This is a manifestation of the Divine love in human form, for Christians it is a celebration of the revelation of God as a human being in Jesus Christ. God’s love made manifest in the world. And brings about an indwelling of the Spirit for all humankind.

This was and still is God's gift to us. We decorate our trees, our houses, our yards and we become excited as we wait for the event to unfold. We even give gifts to others, which are symbolic of God's gift to us.

I work with children and even adults who know nothing about this gift. Christmas is simply a secular holiday in which school gets out for two weeks and gifts are exchange. They know there is a baby somewhere in the picture - Baby Jesus, they say, but other than the name they know nothing about him. They don't know that he came to save the world from our sins - to make us whole again.

Do you know that people sing Amazing Grace - a catchy little tune, but have no real concept of what it is all about. It is sad because they are not even aware when Grace strikes them.

I cherish the words of Paul Tillich, noted theologian in his sermon You Are Accepted, from his book The Shaking of the Foundations.

He says:  “It would be better to refuse God and Christ and the Bible than to accept them without grace. For if we accept them without grace, we do so in the state of separation, and can only succeed in deepening the separation. We cannot transform our lives, unless we allow them to be transformed by that stroke of grace.”

He goes ahead to say:  “It happens or it does not happen. And certainly it does not happen if we try to force it upon ourselves, just as it shall not happen so long as we think, in our self-complacency, that we have no need of it. Grace strikes us when we are in great pain and restlessness.

It strikes us when we walk through the dark valley of a meaningless and empty life. It strikes us when we feel that our separation is deeper than usual, because we have violated another life, a life, which we loved, or from which we were estranged. It strikes us when our disgust for our own being, our indifference, our weakness, our hostility, and our lack of direction and composure has become intolerable to us.

It strikes us when, year after year, the longed for perfection of life does not appear, when the old compulsions reign within us as they have for decades, when despair destroys all joy and courage. Sometimes at that moment a wave of light breaks into our darkness, and it is as though a voice were saying: You are accepted. You are accepted, accepted by that which is greater than you.”

Love came down at Christmas. It can happen at Christmas but it can happen at any time. After such an experience (a happening) we may not be better than before, and we may not believe more than before. But everything is transformed. In that moment grace conquers sin, and reconciliation bridges the gulf of estrangement. And nothing is demanded of this experience, no religious or moral or intellectual presuppositions, nothing but acceptance.

I think now of Jeremiah, known as the Prophet of Prayer. "This is the covenant I will make with them I will put my law within them, and I will write it upon their hearts; and I will be their God, and they shall be my people." Jeremiah made God very personal for he told the people that they shall, all know me from the least of them to the greatest.

Then John in the New Testament tells the story of Nicodemus. "Truly, truly, I say to you, unless one is born anew, he cannot see the kingdom of God." Nicodemus did not understand Jesus' saying.

He asked, "How can a man be born when he is old?" We now know that being born of the spirit has nothing to do with chronological age. It has nothing to do with one's social or economic status. It does have something to do about being struck by grace.

Christmas is certainly about such grace - about being transformed. Once this happens we know what it is to be one of his disciples. We know something about discipleship - knowing what it is all about and living it. The poet Ann Weems has provided us with a beautiful poem in her book Kneeling In Bethlehem. I used it five or six years ago.
 
 
Christmas Trees And Strawberry Summers 

by Ann Weems

​
What I'd really like is a life of Christmas trees and
strawberry summers,
A walk through the zoo with a pocketful of bubble gum and
          a string of balloons.
I'd say "yes" to blueberry mornings and carefree days
          with rainbow endings,
I'd keep the world in springtime and the morning glories
           blooming.
But life is more that birthday parties;
           life is more than candied apples.

I'd rather hear the singing than the weeping.
I'd rather see the healing that the violence.
I'd rather feel the pleasure than the pain.
I'd rather know security than fear.
I'd like to keep the cotton candy coming,
but life is more than fingers crossed;
           life is more than wishing.

Christ said, "follow me."
And, of course, I'd rather not.
I'd rather pretend that doesn't include me.
I'd rather sit by the fire and make my excuses.
I'd rather look the other way,
           not answer the phone,
           and be much too busy to read the paper.

But I said yes and
           that means risk-
           it means, here I am, ready or not!
 
O Christmas trees and strawberry summers,
you're what I like and you are real.
But so are hunger
           and misery
           and hate-filled red faces.
So is confrontation.
So is injustice.
Discipleship means sometimes it's going to rain in my face.
 
But when you've been blind and now you see,
           when you've been deaf and now you hear,
           when you've never understood and now you
know,
           once you know who God calls you to be,
           you're not content with sitting in corners.
There's got to be some alleluia shouting,
           some speaking out
           some standing up
           some caring
           some sharing
           some community
           some risk.
Discipleship means living what you know.
Discipleship means "Thank you, Lord"
           for Christmas trees and strawberry summers
           and even for rain in my face.

Amen.
 
 
Notes:


Poems, prose, and lyrics used under "Fair Use" guidelines & standards for non commercial educational non-profit purposes, with links provide below to each work.

"Do You Hear What I Hear?"
Music by          Gloria Shayne Baker
Lyrics by          Noël Regney
Written             October 1962

"Do You Hear What I Hear?" is a song written in October 1962, with lyrics by Noël Regney and music by Gloria Shayne Baker. The pair, married at the time, wrote it as a plea for peace during the Cuban Missile Crisis but it is widely misunderstood to be a Christmas carol. It has sold tens of millions of copies and has been covered by hundreds of artists. (Wikipedia)

The Shaking of the Foundations by Paul Tillich

Paperback: 192 pages
Publisher: Wipf & Stock Pub; Reprint edition (May 16, 2012)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1620322943
ISBN-13: 978-1620322949
http://www.amazon.com/Paul-Tillich/e/B000APZER4/ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_1?qid=1420154500&sr=1-1


Kneeling In Bethlehem by Ann Weems

Paperback: 108 pages
Publisher: Westminster John Knox Press (January 1, 1987)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 0664228887
ISBN-13: 978-0664228880
http://www.amazon.com/Ann-Weems/e/B001ITXFNQ


A Christmas Sermon ~ DO YOU SEE WHAT I SEE?
Written by Robert P. Starbuck, M.Div., PhD
Edited by Ron Starbuck
Saint Julian Press, Inc. © 2014/2016
Sermon originally delivered at Sunset United Methodist Church on 12-28-08.

This sermon and others came from, In My Father’s House are Many Mansions, from Saint Julian Press, published on November 1, 2018.  ISBN: 978-1732054226
 
 

​Let My People Go

“I have come that you might have life and have it more abundantly.”
 
IN MY FATHER’S HOUSE ARE MANY MANSIONS
Thoughts & Sermons By – Robert Paul Starbuck MDiv, PhD


WHEN GOOD CHRISTIAN MEN & WOMEN — or people from any faith or spiritual tradition, allow the politicians — the fear mongers — and the demagogues of any society to sow discord —  and to reduce our civility to angry exchanges  — to emotional and physical violence. When we see and hear them weaponize social media — assault us and our neighbors daily with their incessant grievances and victimizations — we may not be as able as we would wish — to serve in love the God of History and the Christ of Faith.
 
When we allow all these distractions to consume us, it is hard to live the abundant life of love God has granted and that we deserve within creation. Christians have been given two commandments always to follow. When we do not follow and practice them, sin abounds.
 
When we abandon these commandments, when we worship other idols, when we dehumanize a people, when we dehumanize one another, when we turn our eyes away from intentional cruelty towards others without protest, then we are guilty of the most grievous of sins.  We have placed our ideologies before God’s love and compassion, and in that process, taken God’s name in vain, for “God is Love, ” and we become enslaved by sin.
 
When all our political ideologies and policies are directed against the most vulnerable among us. When we marginalized and disenfranchised people seeking freedom, equality, fairness, justice, mercy, safety, basic food, and shelter. When these political ideologies become graven images. When we stop following God's two greatest commandments, we abandon our faith and God's gift of compassion and grace and begin to worship idols.
 
We become cult followers of a political faith, which has taken over our one true Christian faith and God's call to love one another. When we deny another person the dignity of their humanity and basic human rights, we cease worshiping God. We stop following the Lord's two greatest commandments.
 
When we stop loving our neighbors, all our neighbors near and far.  When we do these things, we miss the mark by an immeasurable margin and have greatly sinned. Because sin is the ultimate separation of ourselves from the source of all being, between one another, and between ourselves and God. And to live in such a state of separation is to be enslaved by sin.

​
WHEN GOOD CHRISTIAN MEN & WOMEN — or people from any faith or spiritual tradition, allow the politicians — the fear mongers — and the demagogues of any society to sow discord —  and to reduce our civility to angry exchanges  — to emotional and physical violence. When we see and hear them weaponize social media — assault us and our neighbors daily with their incessant grievances and victimizations — we may not be as able as we would wish — to serve in love the God of History and the Christ of Faith.  

When we allow all these distractions to consume us, it is hard to live the abundant life of love God has granted and that we deserve within creation. ​Christians have been given two commandments to always follow. When we do not follow and practice them sin abounds.

When we abandon these commandments, when we worship other idols, when we dehumanize a people, when we dehumanize one another, when we turn our eyes away from intentional cruelty towards others without protest, then we are guilty of the most grievous of sins.  We have placed our ideologies before God’s love and compassion, and in that process taken God’s name in vain, for “God is Love, ” and we become enslaved by sin.

When all our political ideologies and policies are directed against the most vulnerable among us. When we marginalized and disenfranchised people seeking freedom, equality, fairness, justice, mercy, safety, basic food and shelter. When these political ideologies become graven images. When we stop following God's two greatest commandments, we abandon our faith and God's gift of compassion and grace, and begin to worship idols.

We become cult followers of a political faith, which has taken over our one true Christian faith and God's call to love one another. When we deny another person the dignity of their humanity and basic human rights, we cease worshiping God. We stop following the Lord's two greatest commandments.

When we stop loving our neighbors, all our neighbors near and far.  When we do these things, we miss the mark by an immeasurable margin and have greatly sinned.  Because, sin is the ultimate separation of our self from the source of all being, between one another, and between ourselves and God. And to live in such a state of separation is to be enslaved by sin itself.

Let My People Go...

 
“WHEN IN THE COURSE of human events it becomes necessary for one people to dissolve the political bands which have connected them with another and to assume among the powers of the earth, the separate and equal station to which the Laws of Nature and of Nature's God entitle them, a decent respect to the opinions of mankind requires that they should declare the causes which impel them to the separation.
 
We hold these truths to be self–evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.”
 
THESE WORDS as we know or should know are the opening words found in the Declaration of Independence written over 240 years ago. I immediately perceived a parallel between what was happening in 1776 and the events as recorded in Biblical history when the children of Israel were in bondage to the Egyptians.
 
I ask you to look with me this morning at this parallel. Allow your eyes to open but mostly your heart. Do you not see Moses and Aaron, standing before Pharaoh — crying out to him, “Let my people go!”  Then let your mind move forward to the third quarter of the 18th century.
 
Our founding fathers tried in vain to negotiate with Great Britain, but their efforts were for naught. Great Britain was such a powerful nation during this time in history. America became just another opportunity for them to gain more power and more wealth. Over the years, America grew into thirteen colonies.
 
The straw that broke the camel's back so to speak was the continuous increase in taxes. Finally, the cry from these thirteen colonies to the British Empire was taxation without representation. On June 7,1776, the Continental Congress met in Philadelphia, where Richard Henry Lee proposed a resolution urging them to declare independence. This led to the drafting by Thomas Jefferson of the Declaration of Independence, which was adopted on July 4, 1776 on what was described as a bright sunny, but cool Philadelphia day.
 
Great Britain refused to grant such independence, which led to the Revolutionary War, which ended in 1783. We tend to forget about those years and focus only on July 4th. We tend to forget the suffering and the loss of lives. This is so true for every war. We forget the hardships, the pain, the anguish and distress that go with every war.
 
In many ways, the picture was no different when Moses and Aaron stood before Pharaoh — crying out to him “Let my people go.” Pharaoh was just as mean and stubborn as was Great Britain, for he said to them: “Who is the Lord, that I should heed his voice and let Israel go? I do not know the Lord, and moreover; I will not let Israel go.”
 
We know the rest of the story – so many stories – so much suffering before they reached the Promised Land. Their history is insurmountable — their faithfulness to the God of Abraham, Jacob and Isaac. Israel grew into a monarch form of government: the three great kings — Saul, David, and Solomon. Later in history, the nation was divided, and finally the downfall of Samaria in 721 BC and Jerusalem in 587 BC.
 
Let my people go! We can still hear the cry. We hear it in every generation, in every nation, in every country. We do believe all men are created equal; they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights; among these are life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.
 
Yesterday we celebrated our nation's birthday, and we continue it this morning. It has become a tradition for Sunset to set aside this Sunday each year, to recognize and participate in our nation's birth.
 
Our patriotism overflows, our cup runneth over. There are many of us who have served in the armed forces of our country. I doubt if there is one family present this morning whose immediate or extended family has not suffered the loss of a member over these past two-hundred plus years.
 
As I have drawn a parallel between the time when Moses and Aaron stood between Pharaoh and our founding father stood before Great Britain, so there is a parallel between our religious faith and the role it played in forming the constitution of this United States of America.
 
During the next few moments let us examine life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness in light of our own faith. Jesus used the word “life” throughout his ministry.
 
“I have come that you might have life and have
 it more abundantly.”
“He who finds his life will lose it”
“It is the spirit that gives life.”
“I am the way, the truth, and the life.”
 
Jesus looked down at the man who had been lying by the pool for 38 years. Do you want to be healed? Then “Take up your pallet (life) and walk.” Jesus is not talking about life in its literal sense. He is not talking about our mere existence. When someone asks me how I am doing and I give them that flipped answer — ‘Well, I'm still above-ground’ — that's not what Jesus is talking about. We can be above-ground, get up every morning, go to work, do our daily chores and still — not experience the life Jesus was talking about.
 
He said, “It is the spirit that gives life.” It is the grace within you – the inner being and spirit who dwell deep within you. It is that unique “YOU,” that no one else has because there is only one of you. Jesus is saying to each of us “You are special!” So if you find that “YOU” — that grace within you will immediately lose it. Jesus said to us, “He who finds his life will lose it?”
 
Life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness! The word Liberty — what does it mean? You're right! It means freedom. It means being able to do as one pleases. It means freedom from physical restraint. It also means one has permission to go freely within limited  boundaries. In other words, I do not have the right to come on your property or cross the boundaries of your existence unless you give me that right.
 
Theologically speaking, it has even a deeper mean. Jesus said, “If you continue in my word, you are my disciples, and you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.” 
 
You will no longer be thirsty if you drink the water that I give. You will no longer be hungry if you eat the bread which I give. Jesus used so many parables in setting us free. He often found it difficult to get through to those around him and once said that sheep hear my voice, “why can't you understand.”
 
I give you eternal life — take it — it's yours. Jesus wasn't talking about life after death. He was talking about life right now, in this very moment, in this very place. If you accept this eternal life you will be free. The shackles that bind you will be removed. The wall which you have built around you to protect yourself from being hurt again because of what someone has said or done to you will just crumble away. 
 
Once again, you will stand naked but free. Vulnerable, yes – but free. The person who is free is always vulnerable — subject to be hurt again, subject to fall from grace again; but, also subject to be loved again.
 
Do you want to be loved again? Do you truly want to reach out and love other? If you say “yes” to either one or both of those questions, then you know something of what it means to be free.

“Let my people go!” 
 
There is a voice within you — deep within, but it is there. Be still and listen — you will hear its voice. It is a power greater than yourself — that power you may call God or Lord or Yahweh or Christ. It is your salvation, your saving grace.
 
Life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness! Our pursuit for happiness always follows our pursuit for life and liberty. This is the eternal life that Jesus talks about. It is the truth that sets us free. It is never ours to keep. It is only ours to share. A still small voice – quietly saying but with a thunderous overtone — “Let my people go!”

This is the voice of the Indwelling Holy Spirit who acts as comforter and counselor, who directs us towards God's mercy and justice. A justice that is always tempered by God's loving compassion. So, I say to you once again, as did the Prophets of the Old Testament, when good men and women of any faith allow the fear mongers and demagogues of society to assault us and our neighbors daily, we are not serving the God of History or the Christ of Faith.
 
I close this sermon by sharing with you a poem recently written by someone I have known for a long time. Don't ask for his name now. You may receive it later if you ask. He first writes a prologue which provides us with the background and setting of the poem.
 
The Harris County Courts District is at the northeastern edge of downtown Houston, Texas, quite close to Minute Maid Park.  Within the district are several social services organizations, various county agencies and courts, the Harris County Jail, as well as Christ Church Cathedral (Episcopal), and Annunciation Catholic Church.  The district includes a diversity of people.  It is quite common to encounter the immigrant, the undocumented, the stranger, the homeless, the hungry, the sick, and the imprisoned.
 
THE JESUS PRAYER FLAG
 
this morning, quite early
in fact,
an hour or so after dawn
while walking to my office
 
I saw a parking garage attendant
in the courthouse district
of downtown Houston
waiving a red–orange
traffic flag
back and forth
back and forth
with the word
JESUS
written there
 
there he was
waving Jesus around
for all the world to see
he was waving Jesus
like a
Tibetan Buddhist prayer flag
flying in the wind
stirring up the Holy Spirit
 
he was waving Jesus as a message
as a hope
as a charity
as a blessing
as a reminder
in remembrance
so that we might
wake up and 
remember too
 
if you listened
carefully
clearly
you can hear
the voices
of the stranger
the immigrant
the undocumented 
the homeless
the poor
the imprisoned, on parole
the weary
like voices from heaven
as they too passed
by
 
saying ...
 
Come, Lord Jesus
Come, Lord Jesus
Come, Lord Jesus
 
uttering his name without pause
as a prayer, as a song, as a thought
 
in the back of my mind I can hear them singing
 
“Jesus loves me this I know
so the Bible tells me so”
I’m sure it was a prayer
a cry from heaven even,
it must have been
for I heard the voices too,
the voices of angels
appearing and arising
as unexpected messengers
as strangers
and
 
I think I saw Jesus smiling,
I’m sure I did,
in the smiles on their faces
 
as I passed by looking, seeing
but staying quiet all the same
not a whisper crossing my lips
not even a small hello
 
but certainly a smile, and a hint of some
blessing unasked for
grace given freely
freely accepted
 
a witness to
God's compassion
at work
in the world
the Kingdom
of God
coming closer
and closer
each day
 
 
Amen
 
Poem by Ron Starbuck
 
 
Book of Common Prayer
According to the use of
The Episcopal Church — Church Publishing Incorporated, New York
The Holy Eucharist: Rite One
 
Almighty God, unto whom all hearts are open, all desires
known, and from whom no secrets are hid: Cleanse the
thoughts of our hearts by the inspiration of thy Holy Spirit,
that we may perfectly love thee, and worthily magnify thy
holy Name; through Christ our Lord. Amen.
 
Hear what our Lord Jesus Christ saith:
Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with
all thy soul, and with all thy mind. This is the first and great
commandment. And the second is like unto it: Thou shalt
love thy neighbor as thyself. On these two commandments
hang all the Law and the Prophets.
 
Lord, have mercy upon us.               Kyrie eleison.
Christ, have mercy upon us.            Christe eleison.
Lord, have mercy upon us.               Kyrie eleison.
 
 
 
Sermon is from:  
IN MY FATHER’S HOUSE ARE MANY MANSIONS
Thoughts & Sermons By
Robert Paul Starbuck MDiv, PhD
 
Published by
SAINT JULIAN PRESS, Inc. 
www.saintjulianpress.com

COPYRIGHT © 2018
TWO THOUSAND AND EIGHTEEN
© Saint Julian Press, Inc.

EDITED BY RON STARBUCK
ISBN-13: 978-1-7320542-2-6
ISBN: 1-7320542-2-3

Library of Congress Control Number: 2018911041
Cover Art: St. John Lutheran Church – Easton, Kansas 
Original Photograph by Kelly Mailen

Cover Design: Ron Starbuck
Author’s Photo Credit: Family Archives
 
Sermon originally delivered at Sunset United Methodist Church in July 2009, with this version edited in August 2019 and October 2020.
 

SOMETHING MORE IMPORTANT 
than dividing a church or a nation into conservatives and liberals.
 
 
AND BEHOLD, there was a man with a withered hand. And they asked him, “Is it lawful to heal on the Sabbath?” so they might accuse him. He said to them, “What man of you, if he has one sheep and it falls into a pit on the Sabbath, will not lay hold of it and lift it out? Of how much more value is a man than a sheep! So, it is lawful to do good on the Sabbath.” Then he said to the man, “Stretch out your hand,” And the man stretched it out and it was restored, whole like the other. But the Pharisees went out and took counsel against him, how to destroy him. ~ Matthew 12:10-14
 
SOMETHING MORE IMPORTANT! On Sunday morning, June 28th, I woke up to the sounds of birds singing in the trees; the brightness of the morning sun already found its way across the foot of my bed. It was a restful night — no fans, no Air-condition; only the cool breeze of a summer night 800 miles north of Houston. I woke knowing this was to be a very special day.
 
There was still hay in the field that had been cut the day before. It needed to be baled and put into the barn. We were at Edna's folks, and I'm sure her father of 75 years thought about the hay that morning and in his own way — wished that it was all baled and stored safely away for the winter. Even so, if the thought ever passed his mind, it was soon forgotten that day —because something more important was about to happen. On the day's agenda was a forthcoming celebration; fifty years of married life.
 
Edna' s brother and wife arrived at the farm shortly after 7:30 a.m. All of us were in the process of dressing for Morning Worship. Church service began at 8:30. By the time everyone was ready (which was about 8:15) Edna's dad was pacing the floor. I was helping him. He was not used to waiting, I could tell he was impatient, but he didn't say anything. After all, this was a special day —something' more important.
 
Soon we were in the cars, —driving north over a hill or two until we reached one of the main arteries running east and west. We turned right, and half a mile took us to St. John Lutheran Church where Edna and I were married; and where Dad and Mom Meinert were united in a service of holy matrimony one–half century ago. As a large family, we took up one whole pew. Everyone knew why we were there because in every small rural setting, everyone knows about everyone else. The celebration of worship seemed so appropriate in setting the climate for the day ahead.
 
Young and old, rich, and poor relatives and friends gathered that afternoon in the parish hall across the road. They came to celebrate –– to offer congratulations and add their blessings. The best man and the maid of honor –– the two people who stood up with them 50 years ago were present. The fields were silent that afternoon; untouched by man or machinery. There was something more important taking place.
 
It is wonderful that every now and then we can stop moving in this busy world of ours and join with others in a great event or celebration.
 
It reminds us that we too are but mortal creatures and while we belong to the infinite, we are still finite in nature. Sometimes death interrupts our lives —the death of someone we love. Sometimes sickness interrupts our lives or an emergency operation or a routine tonsillectomy. 
 
The other night I scheduled two appointments and a meeting at 8 O’clock. At approximately 5:40 PM, the telephone rang; our oldest daughter needed help. She was running a high fever; complications from her tonsillectomy of two weeks ago. We discovered later that she had a severe inner ear infection. I had to cancel my appointment because of something more important.
 
Take the story of one of the senior pastors in a large Methodist Church in Houston; I was talking to him only last Monday. He was sharing some of his problems with three other ministers, including myself. A letter went out from his study at the end of May asking his people to continue their church pledge through December of this year. The Conference decided to go on a fiscal year beginning January 1st. If you recall, I talked about this last fall, so we got the jump on a lot of other churches, the wisdom of a fool.
 
He went ahead to tell us that he received a letter from one layperson canceling his pledge because the church was too liberal. The very next day he received a letter from another layperson canceling his pledge because the church was too conservative. In a moment of deep frustration, he cried out, “What am I to do!” The question may seem trivial to you but to this pastor, it was very important. It concerned him ultimately; “What am I to do?”
 
I wished that I could have given him the answer, but I don't have the answer. Oh, I have an answer but not, the answer. My answer would be to him and to you and to myself that there is something more important.
 
There is something more important than dividing a church or a nation into conservatives and liberals. The two words have really come to bother me for I think they are over used, and we are obsessed with them. I do not think that a Christian can be one or the other. We must be both. We must conserve and liberate at the same time. We can never severe our ties from that part of history, which belongs to us.
 
The teachings of the Bible —the rule and guide of faith —our faith, is just as relevant now as it was two thousand years ago. Just because we live in a new day and must continually interpret the importance of God's word for our day does not mean that we throw the baby out with the bath water. You simply do not cut off the past to get to the problems of the future or even to the problems of this day —here and now.
 
There is a danger in a closed mind. We must always look in both directions. Therefore, we conserve and liberate at the same time.
 
Something More Important! Jesus was both conservative and liberal. He was open to the future, but he did not destroy the past. He came not to destroy the law and the prophets but to fulfill them.
 
Again, and again, he referred to the teachings as found in the law and the prophets. They served as the very basis of his sermon —even his Sermon on the Mount. And yet at the same time he offered something new.
 
“A new commandment I give you; that you love one another even as I have loved you.”
 
You have heard that it was said of old, but I say of you...
 
Jesus conserved and liberated at the same time. He did not destroy the past, but he always moved out in such a way as to give life to others and to set them free.
 
Something More Important! Let us enlarge our Text this morning and examine the contents, which appears in the early part of the 12th chapter of Matthew, the Pharisees, caught up in their own way of life and thinking, were threatened by Jesus. – 1. (reference footnote below). 
 
They were very legalistic in their interpretation of the Law and the Prophets, which can still be seen today between different Christian denominations and people within the church and how we judge one another. We must remember and consider that Jesus was adding a new light and thought to an established interpretation and authority. His teachings were a compassionate and radical transformation that embraced all people, especially the poor and marginalized people of his time.

The Pharisees of Jesus's time, did not know how to cope with his message of compassion, hope, and acceptance, so they moved out to dismiss and discount his teachings. Eventually they were successful and caught their game. Humanity can be successful in dismissing other human beings; but it is something else to be so free, and at peace with yourself that you can give this same feeling of freedom and peace to others.
 
Something More Important! Speaking to the parents and members of a graduating class of Pasadena Independent School District a week ago Friday night, I asked them to imagine that they were at a Rock Festival or in a high school auditorium or sitting in a chair viewing their television. I then asked them to listen to the following words as sung by a Rock group known as Traffic.

 
“Crying' to Be Heard” — Written by Dave Mason
Traffic – Studio Album Released October 1968 – “Cryin' To Be Heard” — Recorded Olympic Studios, London, Record Plant, NYC, January–May 1968 
Mason – lead vocal, Winwood – bass, Hammond – organ, harpsichord, backing vocal; Wood – soprano saxophone; Capaldi – drums, backing vocal.

 
Somebody's cryin' to be heard
And there's also someone who hears every word
 
Sail across the ocean with your back against the wind
Listening to nothing save the calling of a bird
And when the rain begins to fall, don't you start to curse
It may be just the tears of someone that you never heard
 
Somebody's cryin' to be heard
And there's also someone who hears every word
 
Reflected in the water is a face that you don't know
And isn't it surprising when you findin' out it's your own?
And so, you try to find out whether it is friend or foe
And what it is it wants from you and what it wants to know?
 
Somebody's cryin' to be heard
And there's also someone who hears every word
 
Well, you're wrapped up in your little world and no one can get in
You sit and think of everything then, then you wonder where you've been
You put the blame on someone that you've hardly ever known
And then you realize too late the blame was all your own
 
Somebody's cryin' to be heard
And there's also someone who hears every word
 
Sail across the ocean with your back against the wind
Listening to nothing save the calling of a bird
And when the rain begins to fall, don't you start to curse
It may be just the tears of someone that you never heard
 
Somebody's cryin' to be heard
And there's also someone who hears every word
 
 
Songwriter ~ MASON, DAVE
 
 
There is – Something More Important, than blaming others —than dividing a church or a nation into conservatives or liberals. Something more important: "A new commandment I give you, that you love one another even as I have loved you." – John 13:34
  
Sermon delivered at Asbury United Methodist Church, Pasadena, Texas on August 9, 1970.

Robert P. Starbuck received his BA in philosophy from Baker University, in Baldwin City, Kansas; his M.Div. from St. Paul's School of Theology in Kansas City, Missouri; and his Ph.D. in Marriage and Family Counseling from Texas Women's University Institute of Health Sciences – Texas Medical Center/Houston, Texas. He served as an ordained United Methodist Minister in both the UMC Great Plains - Kansas and UMC Texas Conferences.  

He also served as a non-commissioned officer (NCO) TEC-4 Combat Medical Technician in WWII and during the occupation of Germany after the surrender of German forces.  Upon his return to America in 1946 he attended the University of Kansas in Lawerence for two years. From there he served on medical teams at both the Dwight D. Eisenhower VA Medical Center, and prison hospital at the United States Penitentiary Leavenworth, Federal Bureau of Prisons, Department of Justice.  In 1958 answered a higher calling and became a pastor of the United Methodist Church, and went on to complete his undergraduate and graduate degrees. 

​

On the front cover of In My Father’s House Are Many Mansions, is an impressionistic art image of St. John Lutheran Church near the town of Easton, Kansas. A special acknowledgement and thanksgiving must be given to the church as a Christian community of faith and believers. And as family too, since our family's connection to the community goes back several generations.

This is where my mother, Edna K. Meinert–Starbuck was baptized and confirmed, and married in 1948. It is where her parents in 1920, and her grandparents in 1883 were married too. St. John Lutheran Church was originally founded in 1880 by German Lutheran immigrants to America.

My mother’s great grandfather Heinrich Friedrich Weilhelm (Henry) Meinert served as one of the original trustees. St. John Lutheran Church is a place where extended family still gathers on Sunday mornings and special occasions to worship.  They are an intimate and vital part of the community in the twenty-first century.

The cover image was created from an original photograph taken by Kelly Mailen, on a winter's day when it snowed. Kelly’s family has a long history with the church, and is the granddaughter of Austin and LaVerne“Kruse” Potter. She now lives with her husband Russell, in Auburn, Alabama, and works for Auburn University and with the Alabama Cooperative Extension System.

 
 
 

1. It must be noted that like most human faiths, Judaism evolved and progressed over time; transforming, and becoming what we know today as Rabbinic Judaism. The Pharisees described in the New Testament were a movement and a school of thought in the Holy Land during the Second Temple. After its destruction in 70 CE, the Pharisaic tradition became the foundational, liturgical, and ritualistic basis for Rabbinic Judaism. Today, there are different Jewish denominations, as there are Christian denominations. Both faiths have evolved deeply over the last 2,000 years of human history, and it is important for us to understand and to value these differences in time and place. Christians must always guard against and prevent the rise of anti-Semitism and hate in any form. The Judeo-Christian values shared in common by both faiths today, are a reflection of how each one has matured and grown across the course of human history.  Both faiths, were instrumental in the founding of America. There is archival evidence that Alexander Hamilton was born and raised in the Jewish faith before coming to America, in a new book by Oklahoma University Law Professor, Andrew Porwancher, titled; The Jewish World of Alexander Hamilton, forthcoming from Princeton University Press in 2021.