The Pride of a Pirates Fan

Today, I attended the Pittsburgh Pirates Season Ticket Members Field Day at PNC Park. For almost 2 hours, I and my friend Dan were given the opportunity to play catch, take batting practice, and field fly balls on the field of PNC Park. This is my 3rd time taking someone to this experience, and I continue to be amazed that a Major League Baseball organization allows its fans to take part in such an event. It prompted me to write a letter to the organization, through my account representative. Below is my letter.

To Whom It May Concern:

As a long-time Season Ticket Member of the Pittsburgh Pirates, I want to take a moment to thank you for being such a great organization. I recently returned from the Season Ticket Member Field Days at PNC Park, my third time experiencing that benefit. The Field Days are truly a unique experience, and every person I have taken with me has remarked how lucky they feel to have this opportunity.

I always expected and practically demanded these experiences when the major league team was not successful every year. And as the on-field success increased year after year, you could have reduced or eliminated perks for Season Ticket Members and been completely justified in doing so. Instead, you have shown continued commitment and loyalty to the fans not only in these experiences, but with top-notch customer service, ticket exchanges, and placing our names on the outfield wall.

Thank you for everything you do for the fans, particularly the Season Ticket Members. I remember a time not too long ago where being a fan and Season Ticket Member of the Pirates brought me ridicule and jokes at my expense, even in my own city. Today, I can proudly say that I am a life-long fan of the best organization in Major League Baseball. I don’t see other playoff-contending teams letting their fans take batting practice and play catch on the field. Once again, you have shown that the Pittsburgh Pirates are in a class all by themselves both on and off the field.

With sincere gratitude,

Erik Hoeke

Prayers for Charleston

Lord, words cannot adequately express the heaviness within our hearts today. Last night in Charleston, SC, 9 of your children died in bible study because of hatred. 3 of your children watched the horror unfold. One of your children rebelled from your love in the worst way, committing the racially motivated act of murder that can only be described as hatred.

It reminds us, God, that even the Church is not safe and secure from evil, that even our houses of worship can quickly be turned into scenes of violent crime and murder. We weep for the victims, their families, the congregation of Emanuel AME Church, and the community of Charleston, as we pray for healing and hope in the midst of unimaginable grief and horror. We pray for the shooter, that his hardened heart be filled with your love, that he may come to realize the gravity of the unspeakable acts he committed and the consequences, and most of all that he recognize the face of Jesus in all people, including those whose lives he took. And we pray that this moment may teach us all to love one another more deeply, especially those who look or act different than us, so we may realize that we are not so different after all and that black lives do matter.

O God, humanity is full of so much hate and evil, sometimes manifest in racism, and sometimes in violence and death. Lord, where hatred is blossoming drive it out with your love. Where blood is shed, beat guns and knives into instruments of productivity and peace. Where we fail to understand why someone would take the lives of others, help us to understand your goodness in the midst of the evils we face.

As religious people enter houses of worship this weekend, we will do so more fearfully than last week. We will be more on edge, we will wonder if any place is truly safe. And we will be startled by the answer: not in this world. No amount of prayer, security systems, emergency action plans, licensed handguns, or military might will ever create the security we seek. But we do know this: even in the valley of the shadow of death, you are with us. Even when death comes early as the result of violent, hateful acts, you are with us. You comfort those who mourn, you welcome these 9 departed souls into your kingdom, and you remind us in your own death and resurrection that physical death cannot and will not have the last word.

No, hatred, evil, and death do not win in the end. And the cosmic battle is not about good people ultimately vanquishing bad people. It is about your love and grace utterly destroying the powers of evil and death so that they are no more. In this we place our hope, even if today that hope is barely visible through the tears welling up in our eyes.

The Season of Quiet

Living as a Christian in Western Pennsylvania means you can't go a few months without hearing the ubiquitous Steelers Excitement Christian Guilt Trip. Each pastor has her or his own spin and verbiage, but the argument goes something like this: in church, we are quiet/proper/boring/lethargic, but at football games, we are loud/rowdy/easily excitable. The resulting lesson is simple: we clearly love our Steelers more than we love God, because if we really loved God we would be jumping up and down, waving "Trinity Towels" and screaming "Here we go, Jesus, Here we go!"

To some extent, the Steelers Excitement Christian Guilt Trip, or SECGT, has a point. We do get excited about things we love, and if we can't get excited about our faith in God, then perhaps we have some spiritual growing up to do. But there are certainly times when the life of Christian discipleship requires a response entirely different than what is found at a sporting event.

Today marks the beginning of Lent, a season filled with meditation, repentance, and most of all, silence. It's a solemn season, not depressive but reverent. Lent is when we "bury the Alleluias" and leave services in darkness and silence. Lent is not the time to be measuring our depth of faith with the yardstick of football enthusiasm.

Furthermore, when we compare worship to a football game, as the SECGT does, what are we saying about God? After all, football is little more than frivolous entertainment. I sure hope God is more than one of many weekend entertainment options from which we may choose.

But I'm not completely a spoil-sport. I do think there are days to jump and shout and sing in celebration and praise of the almighty God. Easter is one such season, standing in stark emotional contrast to its predecessor, Lent. Pentecost is another, as the disciples got so rowdy with worshiping God that others accused them of hitting the football tailgates a little too hard.

Lent serves as an annual reminder that God is worthy of praise with all our emotions and temperaments. Excitable worship will return in a few weeks, but there is tremendous value in quiet, reflective worship - especially in a culture in which these things are lacking. So, let's embrace the season of quiet, because we desperately need it right now.

Humble Beginnings

Sermon for Sunday, January 11, 2015
Avery United Methodist Church
Washington, PA
Rev. Erik A. Hoeke

Mark 1:4-11

New Revised Standard Version (NRSV)

4 John the baptizer appeared in the wilderness, proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins. 5 And people from the whole Judean countryside and all the people of Jerusalem were going out to him, and were baptized by him in the river Jordan, confessing their sins. 6 Now John was clothed with camel’s hair, with a leather belt around his waist, and he ate locusts and wild honey. 7 He proclaimed, “The one who is more powerful than I is coming after me; I am not worthy to stoop down and untie the thong of his sandals. 8 I have baptized you with water; but he will baptize you with the Holy Spirit.”

9 In those days Jesus came from Nazareth of Galilee and was baptized by John in the Jordan. 10 And just as he was coming up out of the water, he saw the heavens torn apart and the Spirit descending like a dove on him. 11 And a voice came from heaven, “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.”

The obvious question on this Sunday - the day every year in which we celebrate the Baptism of Jesus - is, "WHY?"

Why does Jesus get baptized? Why on earth does the Son of God, the Savior, the Messiah, the one who is God incarnate, need to be baptized?

All four Gospels tell this story in some form, but they give few answers. And the answers they do give aren't very good:

• Mark, the text for today, gives no explanation - just that it happened.

• Luke mentions Jesus' baptism as more of an afterthought - "all the people were baptized," he writes, and "oh yeah, Jesus was too."

• Matthew clumsily explains it as some vague fulfillment of righteousness, but then doesn't tell us anything about what he means by that.

• And the Gospel of John conveniently leaves out any mention of Jesus being baptized, though all the other elements - the Isaiah reference, John's water baptism, even the Spirit descending like a dove - are there.

So, why does Jesus need to be baptized?

Some have suggested a spiritual reason: that baptism was symbolic of his call into earthly ministry. Though just a few weeks ago we celebrated his birth, we have already moved on to his age 30 year, when his ministry begins. And maybe this ritual purification affirmed from God above serves as a "kickoff" for his ministry. At the font we start our journey, as the song goes, and Jesus does too.

Or, perhaps there is a theological reason for Jesus' baptism: In becoming human and taking on every aspect of humanity, does he take on original sin from the fall of Adam and Eve? Does Christ becoming human make him in need of purification by baptism? That's a rabbit hole we could descend into and get lost for a while.

Maybe it's more simple; a practical reason: in being baptized, Jesus is just showing us what he wants us to do; being a good leader by modeling proper behavior for his followers.

Whatever the reason for Jesus' baptism, it does mark the beginning of his earthly ministry. For the writer of the Gospel of Mark, this is the beginning of the story of Jesus. His readers would not have had the benefit of the birth stories of John the Baptizer nor Jesus to explain what all this meant. This baptism story is the beginning of the good news of Jesus.

But if you're paying attention, you notice that Jesus starts his ministry really passively. I mean, he doesn't even do anything. It seems like he just wanders into the scene, John leads him into the Jordan and baptizes him, then as he comes up, both a Spirit dove and a voice descends upon him as the heavens are torn apart.

This is pretty compelling action here, but little (if any) of it is coming from Jesus. John, the heavens, the Spirit, and the voice are the primary actors, and Jesus is the one acted upon. Even the names show this - John the Baptizer and Jesus the Christ or Lord. Jesus has a title; while John has a job. Whose ministry are we talking about?

But I think that's the point Jesus is trying to make. Sure, he may not need to be baptized with repentance and forgiveness of sins, because he is the Son of God - he is God. But he submits to the ritual act to model and encourage the behavior for the rest of us, but maybe also to avoid appearing snobby, turning his nose at purification rituals that drip with the essence of humanity: sinfulness, confession, repentance, begging for forgiveness. This is sooo not the scene of a messiah.

Or is it? Again, that's why he came. He came to save us from these things. He came as God's tangible sign of forgiveness - the same forgiveness we beg for.

As he is baptized, Jesus does this other strange thing: he has John baptize him. He didn't need to do that either. After all, he's Jesus. But as parents invite children to help even when the help isn't necessary, or as pastors ask others to pray for them even though they can do it themselves, Jesus is someone with complete authority who invites John the wilderness prophet to baptize him. He doesn't need John to baptize him, but he asks him anyway.

In this story, we discover the humility of Christ. Here is the Son of God asking a camel's hair wearing, locust and honey eating human to do a ritual purification that he could have done himself, and that maybe he didn't even need in the first place.

Jesus' ministry begins so humbly, and it continues that way. As we read the Gospels, we see a man of great humility:

• A man who listens to "the least of these" without an air of superiority.

• A man who kneels down to wash the grimy feet of his followers.

• A man who humbles himself to the point of death on a cross, setting aside his own glory so that we humans may participate in that glory too.

Jesus' life and ministry had a humble beginning, and a humble ending too. Along the way, he disarmed people continually with his humility; people who valued power and superiority and beating their chests and climbing ladders and always being right and never needing anyone's help, least of all someone from Nazareth - for what good can come from that Godforsaken place anyway?

Jesus modeled a different way, a better way. In his example, we see that all our power-grabbing and chest-thumping and defensive rhetoric can be replaced by compassion, service, love, and sacrifice for the sake of others. And when he invites John the baptizer to do something he could just as well have done himself, we realize we can do that too. Just because we can make it on our own doesn't necessarily mean we should try.

Christ's humility teaches us that. He teaches us how to be more like him as we move through this world. He teaches us that everyone we meet has something to offer to us, if only we invite them to share it. And he teaches us that humility enables us to shed our sins with the waters of baptism, to receive the Spirit, and to hear those same words from above that he heard: this is my son/daughter, the beloved, with whom I am well pleased.

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.