Showing posts with label discipleship. Show all posts
Showing posts with label discipleship. Show all posts

Saturday, March 4, 2023

Second Sunday of Lent Yr A March 5 2023


Second Sunday of Lent Yr A March 5 2023

Genesis 12:1-4a, Romans 4:1-5, 13-17, John 3:1-17, Psalm 121

 

The theme we are exploring this Lent is discipleship, what I call following Jesus. I wonder what following Jesus really looks like? Why do we bother, every Sunday, every Wednesday, coming here, to this place to worship a God we cannot see? It would be so much easier to be out with the others, drinking good coffee at our favorite coffee place, reading our newspaper, eating a wonderful confection for breakfast. Or sleeping in late on a Sunday morning, what’s that like? Or reading a good book or hanging out with kids and partner after a long and grueling week. And yet we are here. I don’t think it’s because I compel you to be here, I have thought about preaching hell and damnation if you don’t come, hoping to increase our numbers, but I don’t. I can’t honestly do that because I don’t think it’s right or true. Coming here on Sunday mornings, being together, participating in good music, prayers, bread and wine, body and blood, is not about hell and damnation, it’s not even about life after death, it’s all about new life in the here and now. 

 

According to John, it’s about being born anew. It’s about belonging and identity as God’s beloveds. Belonging is to have the sense of being born again, being born anew. That is what makes us followers of Jesus, that’s what makes us disciples. So what about the eternal life that Jesus talks about with Nicodemus in our story this morning. Eternal life is not about heaven. We live in chronological time, we are conceived, we are born into the world, we grow, we age, and we die. The story we hear from the gospel of John today seems to, and all the other stories as well seem to show a time that is not chronological, or chronos. The stories in the bible speak about God’s time, they show us kairos, not chronos. The word eternal in today’s gospel doesn’t mean forever. It isn’t a uniform measurement of time like days and years marching endlessly into some unknown or even known future. That’s a category or concept that we really don’t even find in the bible. Eternal, as in whoever believes in him may have eternal life, doesn’t mean the literal passing of time, it means transcending time, or wrinkling time, or layering time. It is kairos, belonging to another realm or reign altogether. It means belonging to God’s realm. That is where heaven comes in. When Jesus talked about heaven, he was talking about our present, eternal, intense, real experiences of joy, peace, and love in this life, this side of death and in whatever is to come. Heaven for Jesus wasn’t just someday; it was and is a present reality. Jesus blurs our lines, inviting Nicodemus, and us, into the merging of heaven and earth, the future and the present, here and now, out of the dark and into the light to be born again, born anew, into this new relationship.

 

For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life. God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him. Why do we come here each Sunday morning to sing songs of praise, to worship, to encounter God’s word, to be with each other, to be fed by God’s body and blood? Because new life in Christ demands it. Because the response to God’s amazing creation, God’s amazing love and grace is to give thanks, because the response to God’s amazing gift of life and love is to rise up in prayer and song, and to fall on our knees in awe. And because it’s not about any one of us individually, it’s about us together.

 

Some Christians have co-opted this language of being born again and have made it into a one time and exclusive deal. If you say a particular set of words you have access to some sort of life after death that means you will spend eternity in heaven, as opposed to hell. However, that really doesn’t seem to be what Jesus talks about or is concerned about. Jesus seems to be much more interested in the here and now, and the new life that is available to everyone, but especially people who are suffering, in pain, and on the margins. Jesus gave his life for this new life; Jesus walked a road of pain and suffering, for what? So that some people could have comfort in an afterlife, and so that most people who don’t have access will spend life after death in a place called hell? I don’t think so.

 

God’s amazing and abundant love is available to all, that’s what Jesus’ life, suffering, death and resurrection makes real. There is no exclusivity to it; all of scripture shows us that. That’s why I come here, Sunday after Sunday after Sunday. Not because it’s an exclusive club, but because together we give thanks for this amazing gift, because together we recognize our need for forgiveness so that we can realize fully the love that God has for us, because together we are fed and nourished so that we may feed and nourish others. We belong here, to God.

 

We are born again. In the midst of the pain and tragedy of this life, Jesus walks with us. In the midst of the pain and suffering of our lives, Jesus walks with us. Jesus doesn’t take that pain and suffering away, often we wish he would, Jesus carries the burden with us. The work that Jesus does in life and death, and resurrection, is to absorb all that pain and suffering, violence and hatred, and defeat it with the power of God’s amazing and abundant love.

 

You and I have access to that new life, to that amazing love, right here and right now. We are born again and again and again. It’s not about a one-time deal; it’s not one moment in time. It’s a process of belonging and identity that manifests in our baptism, when we are claimed and marked as Christ’s own, and it keeps happening, with cycles of acceptance and resistance, epiphany and doubt. We keep coming to church and we keep being fed and nourished because this journey is messy and unclear. We glimpse the new life that is right in front of us at one moment, and then we miss it, again we miss the mark, we lose the trail, we wander in the wilderness, and we come back to be fed and nourished and find our way again.

 

And as we are fed and nourished, we go out and feed and nourish others, we witness to God’s love and provision. And in the end, and in the beginning, and in the middle, that is what following Jesus is about, that is what this journey is about. It is about responding to the amazing love that God has for each and every one of us and for all of us, it is about the new life, the eternal life, the life of here and now, that is available to all of us. In the messiness of our lives, in the good and bad choices we make, in the pain and tragedy of human action and inaction, and in the pain and tragedy of disease, God’s amazing and abundant love is available to Abraham who lived in a land that worshiped gods who were not the One God, it is available to Nicodemus, a leader of the Jews, it is available to the Samaritan woman at the well, it is available to the man born blind, it is available to Lazarus and Martha and Mary, all outsiders, all people on the margins, and all who never said the words, I accept Jesus as my personal lord and savior. And this same amazing and abundant love is available to you, and to me and to all of us.

 

Jesus walked this journey to show us the truth of God’s love for us. We walk this journey so that we may live this truth of God’s love for all. Thanks be to God.

 

Sunday, July 11, 2021

Seventh Sunday after Pentecost Proper 10 Yr B July 11 2021




Seventh Sunday after Pentecost Proper 10 Yr B July 11 2021

2 Samuel 6:1-5, 12b-19, Psalm 24, Ephesians 1:3-14, Mark 6:14-29

 

Once upon a time, there was a party that no one would ever forget. No sooner did glasses empty than they were filled. When the feast was finished, desserts that dazzled the eyes were set out. Every key player in the kingdom was in attendance, and the most beautiful women in the land danced to delight the king. This is our story today in Mark, but it may very well be indistinguishable from any one of a number of TV shows and movies we’ve seen recently, where this one is jealous of that one and has an affair with the other one and decides to behead the first one? None of them hold a candle to this bizarre story we read today in Mark.

 

John, being held in the king’s prison, being kept safe at the king’s command, heard the sounds of the party. John had captured the king’s curiosity and even his respect. Even though the king was often perplexed by what John had to say, he knew the man to be a man of God. So the king feared John, even though the king held him a captive.

 

But everything changed at the party. When King Herod had had too much to drink and was too excited to think clearly, all his fine promises of security to John the Baptist vanished before the movements of an exquisite belly dancer. The executioner burst into the prison cell and emerged with John’s head on a platter. Herod’s promises to John expired upon the enticements of beauty and the stupidity of drunken oaths. It’s a tale as old as time. But there continue to be Herods today, rulers that are hungry for power and will do anything to stay in power, politicians that twist and turn their words to make themselves look good.

 

Why does Mark tell this tale? Let’s look at where it is in Mark’s story. Right before it, what we read last time, is Jesus sending out the disciples two by two, along with instructions about who to stay with and how to respond if they are not welcomed into a community. These are Jesus’ instructions about the practical matters of discipleship. Jesus has given the disciples authority to heal and cast out demons. And by all accounts, the disciples are successful. 

 

After this story Jesus gathers the disciples to go off to a deserted place to pray. They had been working so hard, and in such a hurry to proclaim the kingdom, Jesus wanted to pull them away for a while. But what happened was that the crowds figured out where they were going, and they showed up on the beach, and Jesus had compassion for them and taught them many things. And then fed them with five loaves and two fish. 

 

Before and after we have these wonderful stories of discipleship, of following Jesus, and of healing and feeding happening. So why this story? I wonder if it’s Mark’s warning. Is Mark saying that following Jesus isn’t all fun and games, there is a cost to discipleship. 

 

One lesson the disciples simply do not want to learn is that, when they follow Jesus, the end of the road will more likely be a platter or a cross than a spotlight or a toast. There are people like Herod in this world, people like Herodias, people who are pumped up with their own importance. It is enticing to be on a first-name basis with a guy like Herod, but the results are almost always deadly. 

 

What does that mean for us? We claim to be followers of Jesus, like the disciples that first followed. But there is a cost. It may not be as horrific as losing your head, but there is a cost. Mark goes on to describe some other grizzly things, like chopping off your hand or poking out your eye. But what if this is less about dying a grizzly death, and more about living a true and authentic life? Maybe it’s a description of what happens to us when we get caught up into the kingdom of God. 

 

Remember way back to 1999 when we first watched the Matrix? Maybe the cost of following Jesus, rather than a taking away of life and limb, is more like being freed from the Matrix. Humans were unwittingly plugged into a computer organism and the characters that had been unplugged, who had been freed from the Matrix, were identifiable by a scar on the back of their necks. The back of the neck was where they had been shackled to the Matrix. And when they chose to have a real life and not be in bondage to the machine, they were unplugged from it. But it hurt to be unplugged. Maybe like having something cut off their body, it hurt to have the illusion pulled away. But in exchange they got life, real life, not an illusion, but live with real freedom and real purpose. 

 

Following Jesus is costly in ways that we can only begin to imagine. Following Jesus demands that we unplug from the Matrix, unplug from the stuff that keeps us from being free to love like Jesus loves. What are we so attached to that giving it up hurts? For some that is addiction to drugs or alcohol, for some that is food. For many these days it is screens. 

 

But I think that is what Mark is telling us. Being free to love like Jesus loves means unplugging from the machine. It is not easy, and its cost is dear. It means setting aside our pride, our grudges, our own efforts at perfection and pleasing others. It means that we forgive ourselves and our neighbors. And it most especially means that we accept and receive God’s grace, God’s word, God in the flesh. 

 

Dietrich Bonhoeffer, who was known for his staunch resistance to the Nazi dictatorship, wrote the book, The Cost of Discipleship, in it he writes,

 

“Costly grace is the gospel which must be sought again and again and again, the gift which must be asked for, the door at which a person must knock. Such grace is costly because it calls us to follow, and it is grace because it calls us to follow Jesus Christ. It is costly because it costs a person their life, and it is grace because it gives a person the only true life. It is costly because it condemns sin, and grace because it justifies the sinner. Above all, it is costly because it cost God the life of his Son.”

 

Following Jesus is costly because it costs a person their life, and it is grace because it gives a person the only true life. You see, therein lies the rub. Following Jesus is about laying down that which is killing you, it’s like a part of you must die, in order for the new life, the true life, to grow. 

 

This is not the life our culture encourages. But it is the life of following Jesus. This is a life of love that demands our very best self. In a world where a very best self is about success and happiness, this love and grace calls us to work for the very best of the beloved. In a world where a very best self is about beauty and health, this love and grace calls us to be our very real self, which is beautiful. In a world where the very best self looks like a charade of bluster and lies, this love and grace calls us to live a truth of forgiveness and healing.

 

And, it is a promise. Jesus promises that when a part of ourselves dies, there will be resurrection, there will be new life, and there is always hope. Amen.

Saturday, September 19, 2015

17th Sunday after Pentecost Yr B Proper 20 Sept 20 2015



 17th Sunday after Pentecost Yr B Proper 20 Sept 20 2015

Leaving there, they went through Galilee. Jesus didn’t want anyone to know their whereabouts, for he wanted to teach his disciples. He told them, “The Son of Man is about to be betrayed to some people who want nothing to do with God. They will murder him. Three days after his murder, he will rise, alive.” The disciples didn’t know what he was talking about, but were afraid to ask him about it. They came to Capernaum. When he was safe at home, he asked them, “What were you discussing on the road?” The silence was deafening—they had been arguing with one another over who among them was greatest. Jesus sat down and summoned the Twelve. “So you want first place? Then take the last place. Be the servant of all.” He put a child in the middle of the room. Then, cradling the little one in his arms, he said, “Whoever embraces one of these children as I do embraces me, and far more than me—God who sent me.”

In the gospel of Mark, whenever the disciples and Jesus were passing through, they were on their way to Jerusalem. And you and I know what happens in Jerusalem, Jesus is hung on the cross. The disciples in this story were afraid, as they so often are, but not sure of what it was they were afraid. And, as fear often is expressed as argument and anger, we hear the disciples arguing. On the road, Jesus surmises that they are arguing about which one of them was the greatest, something that Jesus was not concerned with at all. Jesus' concerns had to do with teaching the disciples how to live out God's dream of reconciling love. The disciples were only  concerned about themselves.

And so Jesus tells them that following him is not about them at all, and Jesus sets as the example of the kingdom, the welcome, the embrace of a child. Jesus shows us that following him is about that sort of welcoming embrace, following him is being the servant of all, following him is not being the greatest, but being vulnerable. This is truly a radically counter-cultural image. 

History shows us various views of children in society. In contemporary American culture we have gained much around the protection of children in families and with child labor laws in the workplace. Children were taken out of factories and the public education system was established only recently, as late as the 19th century. Children have been variously valued as workers in the fields, as extra mouths to feed, and as dispensable commodities.

In the first century Mediterranean world, where space is divided into women's space and men's space, men's space was public space, women's space was private space in the home. A child was most definitely not seen and not heard in public space, and not in men's space in the home. For a child to be in the same space as these men is quite odd and unusual. For Jesus to embrace the child is a radical statement of the change that takes place because Jesus is in the world. What Jesus does in this seemingly tender embrace is to show that even a child, with no status, no possessions, no honor, is loved abundantly by God. What Jesus does is to confer new life on this child.

Jesus also sets as the example of the kingdom a description of what it looks like to be a follower. Followers of Jesus are to be like servants, followers are not to be the greatest, but are to be vulnerable, like the child.

You'd think after reading these stories about Jesus and the disciples we'd have it all figured out by now. But is seems like we have to keep being reminded what discipleship looks like, it seems like we keep forgetting that following Jesus is not about being the best, or the greatest, or the most honored. But following Jesus is about being vulnerable, following Jesus is about being a servant. The disciples kept forgetting, the disciples needed reminding, so do we.

It's tough, in this world where we just keep seeing and hearing about people who grab power, who grab attention, who grab money, for us to follow the path of giving, of serving, of laying down our selves. But that's what following Jesus looks like. And that is where Love really does win. what we really want to do is to hide our true selves. The self that is not perfect, the self that gets hurt and hurts the ones we love most. We try to stuff our brokenness and our warts and our shallowness, and our inability to forgive and our desire for life to be all about me, into our briefcases and our backpacks, or maybe under our beds or into the dark recesses of our basements, so that we don't have to look at all of that darkness, and so that no one else need see our imperfectness. We work so very hard to keep all of that away from the light of the world, away from those who love us most, because, like the disciples, we are afraid. But Jesus says, "take the last place, be the servant." Jesus says, let go of your control, put down your burden, be vulnerable, let my love seep into the hard places of your heart, let my love soak through that hard exterior, let love win.

When we do, amazing things happen. Discipleship is not just about doing the right thing, it is that but it is so much fuller, so much more complete. Following Jesus is about being loved and offering love. Following Jesus is about being treated to grace, and mercy, and compassion, and treating others with grace, and mercy, and compassion. Following Jesus is about being broken, and being healed. Following Jesus is about laying our selves down, and when we do that, we can truly be ourselves and be filled with God's spirit. We then can truly be disciples.

And following Jesus is not just about you, but about all of us. Which brings us back to the children. Here at Trinity, we are one part of the body of Christ, and one of the ways we live that out is in offering hospitality to all who come, no matter what, no matter who, because we believe that Love wins. We believe that God's love, grace, and mercy are available to all, no matter what. We believe that God calls us, as individuals and as a community, to participate in the building of God's kingdom. God's kingdom that looks like embracing children, and everyone. God's kingdom that is revealed in the wisdom and the innocence of the youngest of these. God's kingdom that is made real in the bread and the wine, in the body and the blood. God's kingdom that looks like the community of children sitting in a circle, embraced in the word of God. God's kingdom that looks like hands held up, to be filled with Jesus. God's kingdom that looks like the least who are first. God's kingdom in which Love wins.

Saturday, September 7, 2013

16 Sunday after Pentecost Yr C, Sept 8 2013

Luke comes off a little harsh in this passage, don't you think? Whoever comes to me and does not hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, yes, and even life itself, cannot be my disciple. That's not really what discipleship is about, is it? That's not really what Jesus asks of us, is it? Well, what do you think? Take up your cross and follow. Know what you're getting into before you get into it. 

I think what is being described in this passage is the cost of discipleship. Discipleship is not cheap, nor is it easy.  Dietrich Bonhoeffer, a man who knows about paying a price, he was a a prisoner in a concentration camp because he opposed the Nazi's, and wrote a book called The Cost of Discipleship, writes, "Earthly goods are given to be used, not to be collected. In the wilderness God gave Israel the manna every day, and they had no need to worry about food and drink. Indeed, if they kept any of the manna over until the next day, it went bad. In the same way, the disciple must receive his portion from God every day. If he stores it up as a permanent possession, he spoils not only the gift, but himself as well, for he sets his heart on accumulated wealth, and makes it a barrier between himself and God. Where our treasure is, there is our trust, our security, our consolation and our God. Hoarding is idolatry." 

What Luke describes, and what Bonhoeffer interprets is not any sort of Christianity Lite. A low cost, low buy in sort of Christianity. It's not Christianity only on Sundays, or any days of my choosing. It is not Christianity that is about feeling good and being nice. It is not Christianity that is about getting what I want, or even being successful. The kind of Christianity that Luke describes means giving it all up, laying it all down. Following Jesus means letting nothing, not even our relatives or our possessions get in the way. The cost of discipleship is high, it hits us at the core of our humanity, it is about dying to that which is killing us, it is about rising to the new life that God promises us. Discipleship, following Jesus, demands our transformation.

You see, the Good News is that with Jesus, nothing is the same. It's not about how much you have, or what you can buy, or who your family is. Remember, honor was the highest good in Jesus' time, and the way to garner honor was to whom you were related. So the admonition to give up family relationship, father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, was about finding value and worth in being children of God. 

Following Jesus is about divesting yourself of all of your possessions and all of your relationships that keep you from relationship with God and with others. Jesus is a proponent of the sport’s quote, “Go big or go home.” Jesus does not seek Sunday-only followers or part-time disciples; Jesus expects our full commitment. Rather than giving God our leftovers, we are compelled to offer God our lives. Jesus asks us to take up our cross, by laying it all down. As another of my favorite philosophers so wisely has said, "Do or do not, there is no try." 

That same philosopher, who is Yoda, by the way, also said to his disciple Luke Skywalker,  "Train yourself to let go of everything you fear to lose." Fear will kill us, fear ties us up, fear lives deep in our guts and kills us from the inside out. Jesus knows this about us. Jesus knows that it is the fear of losing our possessions that keeps us accumulating more. Jesus knows that it is those possessions that keep us from living fully and completely. And our culture encourages us to accumulate more and build bigger. But the problem is that accumulating more only anesthetizes us to the reality that none of us get out of this life alive, so instead, we live as if we are already dead. It is new life indeed, that Jesus gives us.

You see what Jesus asks of us as followers is to live this life unencumbered. We are to live this life with our pack on our back, nimble and ready to serve. As Rick and I prepared to go abroad, we listened to Rick Steves, the PBS travel expert, on how to pack. He advised, lay everything out that you think you need, and then cut it in half, and cut it in half again. And Rick Steves also says, if you need it, you can get it when you're there. 

That's what Jesus is talking about. What we think we need gets in the way of living our lives wide awake, encountering the amazing world that surrounds us, accepting the hospitality of those whose paths we cross, paying attention to God's gifts, giving thanks for what is right there and who is right there in front of us. When we are carrying too much stuff, we miss the hospitality of the moment, we miss the invitation to rest awhile, we miss the connection to one another and all of God's creation. When we lighten our load, when we divest ourselves of that which we are convinced we must have, when give up our possessions, when we give up our fear and our anger, the world begins to let loose of us, and we are freed to receive the love that wins, the love that blesses, and we are transformed. We are changed into followers of Jesus.

This is your chance. What is it you are afraid to lose? What is it you need to lay down? What is in your pack that you can leave behind? Put it down, put it down. That is the cost of discipleship. And rise up to meet the new day. Rise up to follow the one and only one who can give you the love and life that you yearn for. Rise up to follow the one who loves you.

Saturday, October 27, 2012

22 Pentecost Proper 25 Yr B Oct 28 2012


We take up with the gospel of Mark again in the shadow of Jerusalem, on the way to the cross. We've been on this road for a while now. This story of the blind Bartimaeus is the last story of Jesus’ ministry, before the cross and the passion.

"What do you want me to do for you?" Jesus’ question of Bartimaeus is the same question that Jesus asked James and John only a moment ago. But the contrast between the request of James and John and the request Bartimaeus makes is cavernous. James and John were somewhat confused, they ask Jesus for power, they think the kingdom is about a seating chart. Bartimaeus asks to see. Not at all like the power and status that James and John were all about, and Bartimaeus wasn’t even officially a disciple.

Jesus called the disciples, Jesus said to them, come, follow me, and they did, they left everything to follow Jesus. But somehow there's a difference here between James and John, and Bartimaeus. It seems the healing; the transformation of James and John was a bit long in coming, not unlike most, if not many of us. It takes time to be changed by God’s amazing and abundant love. For most of us that doesn’t happen immediately, it happens gradually. I’ve spoken in recent weeks about the importance of examining what it is that we hold most dear. What is it that we hold on to so tightly it becomes idolatrous? What are the barriers that we set up in our relationship with God, with ourselves and with others? Are there burdens that we need to set down so that we may follow God’s love in Jesus Christ? We are much more like James and John than we are like Bartimaeus. For most of us, our blindness is not immediately noticeable to others, unlike Bartimaeus whose blindness was obvious. Our hurts and pains are buried deep and wide, and instead of being healed, like Bartimaeus, we look to taking power and hope to sit next to Jesus, like James and John. Jesus' call to us, the call to discipleship, is to open ourselves up, to reduce our baggage, to lay our burdens down, to let Love win. It’s hard to hear the call when there's so much noise, it’s hard to follow when what we carry is so heavy, it’s hard to move when we’ve built our sturdy wall. Being healed isn't easy for us.

Being healed changed Bartimaeus’ life completely. There’s some good and some not so good about being healed. The good part for Bartimaeus was being restored to the community. As a blind man in that culture he was outcast, on the margins, unseen by any who walked by him on that road. His work was begging and as a man restored to society, he had to get a job.

There is risk involved in being healed. There is risk involved in transformation. Life will never, can never be the same. Out of what seems like death comes resurrection. We cling so desperately to that which we believe is our identity, it's nearly impossible to give that up to an identity as beloved of God. Letting go of what we believe defines us to take on our true identity may hurt and is hard. But unless and until we let die what is killing us, we can never be healed, we will never be transformed into the new person in Christ. The Good News is that when we do let die what is killing us, we make room for Love to win, there will be new life in ways we can hardly begin to imagine.

Bartimaeus regained his sight and followed Jesus on the way. The way at this point is to the cross, which is where the rest of the story takes place. Not easy, no more business as usual, always death before resurrection. Discipleship, following Jesus on the way, to the cross, all the way to resurrection, is not about gaining or wielding power and status, it's not about a seating chart, and it is not about pain and suffering for suffering sake, or for the sake of martyrdom, but is about embracing this life with all it entails. It is as much about joy, thanksgiving and gratitude, as it is about pain,  suffering and tragedy. It is about our God’s willingness to be with us in the middle of it all.

Bartimaeus is called, and healed, and in faith follows Jesus. Had Bartimaeus known what lie ahead for Jesus and for the rest of the followers, they might have bailed, who knows. The journey to and through the cross is as difficult as it is exhilarating, discipleship is not for the feint of heart. It was only a very short period of time between Bartimaeus being healed, being restored to the community, and Jesus’ passion, suffering, death and resurrection. Bartimaeus could easily have it wasn’t worth it, why bother,  what happened to the reward, where’s the power and status in all this.

So discipleship as Bartimaeus shows us is not about the reward, it is about the journey. It is about being accompanied by Jesus on the road, it is about accompanying others on the journey, it is about seeing, seeing, the grace, the joy, the wonder, in all that life throws at us, because we know that Love wins. We know that resurrection happens. We know that life always wins over death. We know that we are part of resurrection. There is hope. There is hope.

Discipleship, following Jesus, is not about having the right answers; it’s not about being perfect. Discipleship is seeing healing right in front of us; discipleship is seeing the divine in one another and joining with one another in the journey. Discipleship is being transformed, being changed; becoming the creation that God calls us to be. Discipleship is answering yes to God’s call to come, even when the road ahead seems treacherous because Love wins.

Saturday, October 6, 2012

19 Pentecost Proper 22 Yr B


Again Jesus is saying and doing something radical here. He shows the Pharisees, and the disciples, in a world where women and children are possessions, relationship matters. Jesus is saying that relationships with God, and with others, matter. Indeed, not only do relationships matter, relationships are salvific. The whole of the gospel of Mark shows us what the Kingdom of God looks like, and throughout the story we learn about being disciples. Jesus announces the coming of God's kingdom, and Jesus brings to us the embodiment of the kingdom. So this passage from Mark tells us much more about God than it tells us about ourselves, but it does indeed tell us something about ourselves and our role as disciples. It tells us about who God is, who we are, and how we are to relate to God and to one another.

So I start with what it shows us about God. The truth is that God as creator is the integrating force, not just the most powerful integrating force in nature, that would suggest there are other integrating forces. But it is God who is the integrating force. That means that God is wholeness, and in a world of brokenness, it is God who makes us whole. This is how we experience God in the stories of creation, God calls order from chaos, God creates wholeness out of nothing. It is important that we understand that that is the starting point, and that Jesus always points to God's Kingdom as that which is unifying. Kingdom is about wholeness and health, God's kingdom is about compassion and mercy. God's kingdom is about being related to God and to one another. And relationships matter to God.

That is how Jesus responds to the questions of law that the Pharisees ask. The Pharisees are concerned with laws in these questions, they are not concerned with love. You and I approach marriage from the standpoint of love, and romance. The Pharisees approach marriage from a legal standpoint. This is not about law, but about love. There is a place for law, for protection of the most vulnerable in our society. A very important place. But that's not what this is about. Marriage is a contract by which the man takes possession of the woman from the woman's father. But Jesus responds to the Pharisees, not by upholding or disparaging the law, but by describing the desire that God has for humanity to live in relationship, relationship that honors and respects the beloved. This kind of relationship is the way God relates to us, and this kind of relationship is God's desire for us in relationship to one another.

God yearns for humanity to be committed to one another, God wants for humanity to put the beloved before self, God wants for humanity to live together with dignity, respect, love. This is what the kingdom looks like. Jesus knows what happens when relationships are rent, and when relationships are torn asunder. That's what he describes in this passage. Humans are torn apart. Hearts are broken. Children are hurt.

We live in a world of contingency, which is about the opposite of committed relationships. Contingency and casualness, is a message that is splayed all across our screens. When I am on facebook, there is an ad consistently that tells me that with some surgery I too can have a perfect body, or with a pill I can lose weight instantly. A theme of some of our favorite television programs is that if you are not satisfied with the partner you have, you can leave them for another. But it goes even deeper than that. The message that in order to be valued in this world you have to possess a big house, a nice car, a good wife, successful and beautiful children is pervasive.

In the world of 1st century Mediterranean culture remember the highest value was honor and status. It is into all of this that God invokes relationship and community. Here is the place where the highest good is commitment to one another. Where promises are made about always being there for the other.

It's also the place where humanity lives. You and me in all of our glory and in all of the messiness of life. God yearns for us to be together, to put the other first, and yet God knows how we fall short of that. God knows the pain of broken relationships. God knows the pain of love. Isn't that where we are going with Jesus, on this path of discipleship? Straight to the cross, that's the road we are on with Jesus. Right through that pain and suffering of brokenness. And as some might say, it ends badly with death on a cross. But you and I know different. We know it doesn't end there. We know that God loves us so absolutely and completely that something happens, that Love wins. That a new thing happens, resurrection. That's the hope in God's relationship with us, and in our relationship with others. We fail. We hurt. We are broken. But because God shares God's very self with us, and because we share our lives with others, we share the very fiber of our being, we are forgiven. We have a second chance. We live through the pain we cause, we live through the pain others cause in our lives, we are broken. And God's love seeps into our brokenness, God's love seeps into the fissures of our hearts and the fissures of the fibers of our skin and bones and muscles and organs, and somehow we are healed. Somehow we can live again. Somehow, Love wins.

As disciples, we live in God's kingdom. We live in the place where relationships matter, where relationships are sacred. Where every person has dignity, where every person belongs. The Gospel of Mark starts in the lonely places and Jesus will end up on the cross. But being alone is not what God wants for us. God says, "I am here, in my Son, to be in relationship with you. Nothing can separate us any longer." That's why we do what we do. That's why we ask for forgiveness every time we come to the table to eat. That's why we gather together and stand shoulder to shoulder to eat the bread and drink the wine. That's why we share our prayers and deposit them in this holy place, together. And that's why we go out into the world bearing God's yearning for relationship to all who we meet. We are Jesus' disciples, we live as kingdom people, and for us, Love wins.

Saturday, September 22, 2012

17 Pentecost Yr B Proper 20

Leaving there, they went through Galilee. Jesus didn’t want anyone to know their whereabouts, for he wanted to teach his disciples. He told them, “The Son of Man is about to be betrayed to some people who want nothing to do with God. They will murder him. Three days after his murder, he will rise, alive.” The disciples didn’t know what he was talking about, but were afraid to ask him about it. They came to Capernaum. When he was safe at home, he asked them, “What were you discussing on the road?” The silence was deafening—they had been arguing with one another over who among them was greatest. Jesus sat down and summoned the Twelve. “So you want first place? Then take the last place. Be the servant of all.” He put a child in the middle of the room. Then, cradling the little one in his arms, he said, “Whoever embraces one of these children as I do embraces me, and far more than me—God who sent me.”

In Mark, whenever the disciples and Jesus were passing through, they were on their way to Jerusalem. And you and I know what happens in Jerusalem, Jesus is hung on the cross. The disciples in this story were afraid, but not sure of what it was they were afraid. And yet, on the road, Jesus surmises that they are arguing about which one of them was the greatest, something that Jesus was not concerned with at all. Jesus' concerns had to do with teaching the disciples how to live out God's reconciling love. The disciples were concerned about themselves.

And then Jesus tells them that following him is not about them at all, and Jesus sets as the example of the kingdom, the welcome, the embrace of a child. Jesus shows us that following him is about that sort of welcoming embrace, following him is being the servant of all, following him is not being the greatest, but being vulnerable. This is truly a radically counter-cultural image. History shows us various views of children in society. In contemporary American culture we have gained much around the protection of children in families and with child labor laws in the workplace. Children were taken out of factories and the public education system was established only recently, as late as the 19th century. Children have been variously valued as workers in the fields, as extra mouths to feed, and as dispensable commodities.

In the first century Mediterranean world, where space is divided into women's space and men's space, men's space was public space, women's space was private space in the home. A child was most definitely not seen and not heard in public space, and not in men's space in the home. For a child to be in the same space as these men is quite odd and unusual. For Jesus to embrace the child is a radical statement of the change that takes place because Jesus is in the world. What Jesus does in this seemingly tender embrace is to show that even a child, with no status, no possessions, no honor, is loved abundantly by God. What Jesus does is to confer new life on this child.

Jesus also sets as the example of the kingdom a description of what it looks like to be a follower. Followers of Jesus are to be like servants, followers are not to be the greatest, but are to be vulnerable, like the child.

You'd think after reading these stories about Jesus and the disciples we'd have it all figured out by now. But is seems like we have to keep being reminded what discipleship looks like, it seems like we keep forgetting that following Jesus is not about being the best, or the greatest, or the most honored. But following Jesus is about being vulnerable, following Jesus is about being a servant. The disciples kept forgetting, the disciples needed reminding, so do we.

It's tough, in this world where we just keep seeing and hearing about people who grab power, who grab attention, who grab money, for us to follow the path of giving, of serving, of laying down our selves. But that's what following Jesus looks like. And that is where Love really does win. what we really want to do is to hide our true selves. The self that is not perfect, the self that gets hurt and hurts the ones we love most. We try to stuff our brokenness and our warts and our shallowness, and our inability to forgive and our desire for life to be all about me, into our briefcases and our backpacks, or maybe under our beds or into the dark recesses of our basements, so that we don't have to look at all of that darkness, and so that no one else need see our imperfectness. We work so very hard to keep all of that away from the light of the world, away from those who love us most, because, like the disciples, we are afraid. But Jesus says, "take the last place, be the servant." Jesus says, let go of your control, put down your burden, be vulnerable, let my love seep into the hard places of your heart, let my love soak through that hard exterior, let love win.

When we do, amazing things happen. Discipleship is not just about doing the right thing, it is that but it is so much fuller, so much more complete. Following Jesus is about being loved and offering love. Following Jesus is about being treated to grace, and mercy, and compassion, and treating others with grace, and mercy, and compassion. Following Jesus is about being broken, and being healed. Following Jesus is about laying our selves down, and when we do that, we can truly be ourselves and be filled with God's spirit. We then can truly be disciples.

And following Jesus is not just about you, but about all of us. Which brings us back to the children. Here at St. Andrew's, we are one part of the body of Christ, and one of the ways we live that out is in offering hospitality to all who come, no matter what, no matter who, because we believe that Love wins. We believe that God's love, grace, and mercy are available to all, no matter what. We believe that God calls us, as individuals and as a community, to participate in the building of God's kingdom.  God's kingdom that looks like embracing children, and everyone. God's kingdom that is revealed in the wisdom and the innocence of the youngest of these. God's kingdom that is made real in the bread and the wine, in the body and the blood. God's kingdom that looks like the community of children encircling the table. God's kingdom that looks like hands held up, to be filled with Jesus. God's kingdom that looks like the least who are first. God's kingdom in which Love wins.

Saturday, April 23, 2011

Easter Vigil/Easter

This is the night, when you brought our forebears, the children of Israel, out of bondage in Egypt, and led them through the Red Sea on dry land. This is the night, when all who believe in Christ are delivered from the gloom of sin, and are restored to grace and holiness of life. This is the night, when Christ broke the bonds of death and hell, and rose victorious from the grave, we heard Christie sing. We rehearsed the stories of our faith, the stories of God’s activity in the life of God’s people, the story of reconciliation, restoration, resurrection, in the midst of wandering, whining, and wailing. Bones that join together and wind and spirit to give them new life. Water that cleanses, water that hydrates, water that is poured over us.

On this night, death does not have the final word. We have kept vigil, we have listened to litanies and prayers, we have sat in the silence and wept, we have been to the cross with Jesus, we have recognized our complicity in the whole mess, we have held one another’s hand, we have wondered whether we are worth all this pain and trouble, we have told the stories of who we are and whose we are, and we, like the women who go to the tomb to see Jesus, are afraid.

At the two pivotal times of the church year, Incarnation and Resurrection, the angel says, “Do not be afraid.” "Do not be afraid; I know that you are looking for Jesus who was crucified. He is not here; for he has been raised!” Indeed this is good news, received with fear and great joy. What are we to do with this Good News, that death does not have the final word? The women go and tell the others. Come and see, go and tell. This is not a secret to keep, it is Good News to tell, God has raised Jesus to new life, and God will raise you to new life too. It is transforming news.

On this night, we are surprised by joy, we are surprised by hope, Love wins. God acts decisively on behalf of all creation, on behalf of the Peters, and the Judas’, the Roman soldiers and the apathetic bystanders, the Mary’s and the Martha’s, you and me. And we must go and tell. Every story we tell points us to God who loves creation so very much, that God is willing to take extreme measures to show us that Love wins, that death does not triumph.

Come and see, go and tell. We see Jesus. Jesus who was born into this world, our world, born in a barn, to parents of questionable status. Jesus, who taught in the temple when he was twelve. Jesus who ate with tax collectors and sinners, hung around with women and children. Jesus who fed the hungry, five thousand at a time. Jesus, who spoke with the woman at the well, who healed the blind man, who raised his friend Lazarus from the dead. Jesus, who restored the marginalized people to status, who literally gave new life where there was no life at all. Come and see.

Incarnation shows us that God comes into our time and walks this road with us. Jesus’ life, and love, pain and sorrow, death and resurrection, show us that it is not God’s purpose to remove sadness, loneliness, pain and sorrow from the world, but to show us a new way to live. Resurrection shows us that God actively works in human history because God never gives up on the creation God loves so very much.

This Easter story, this story that Love wins, that death does not triumph, changes the world and must therefore change us. Do not be afraid the angel says. I think the angel tells us not to be afraid, because we are so afraid of change, and this will change you. God is doing something new through Jesus, and God wants us to be a part of it. God adds a twist to the old stories with Easter. With Jesus, God says there is no more business as usual. God’s kingdom, that begins with Easter, which begins with resurrection, is not like the world. Love wins, hate, greed, envy, oppression, lies and apathy, have no place in this new kingdom. The first will be last, the last will be first.

Jesus calls disciples, the ones who followed him while he walked this journey on earth, and you and me, Jesus’ disciples today, to teach us who we are, to teach us about being citizens of the new kingdom. We are to be growing in generosity, forgiveness, honesty, courage, truth telling, and responsibility, this is a change from the ways of the world, do not be afraid.

And on this most holy night, we renew our promise to grow into the full stature of Christ, as we stand with Rex and Amy, and Cadence’s godparents, as they make these promises as well. Our baptismal promises that help us to grow in generosity, forgiveness, honesty, courage, truth telling, and responsibility. We enter the waters of baptism; we die with Jesus and are brought out of death to new life with Jesus.

Love wins. All of creation is joined to God. Go and tell. Do not be afraid.
Alleluia, Christ is risen. The Lord is risen indeed. Alleluia.

Saturday, January 15, 2011

2 Epiphany Yr A

We hear this morning from Paul that God is faithful and we are called into the fellowship of Jesus. We hear in Isaiah that God is faithful and that we are chosen, it echoes what we heard last week from Matthew and Isaiah and what we heard in Jesus’ baptism and what we hear in our own baptism. And in John’s gospel, as two disciples ask Jesus where he is staying, we hear an invitation, Jesus responds to the disciples with Come and see. Come and see.

Imagine yourself as one of those people who hear or sees Jesus, imagine yourself following Jesus as he invites the two disciples to come and see. What did people expect, what do you expect, of this long awaited Messiah, this Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world? Many people of Jesus’ time expected the Messiah to come in power and glory. As you followed Jesus would you expect to see a palace? At least a mansion or maybe a tastefully appointed home, at least a colorful tent with a cot to sleep on. But instead, there really is not much to see, Jesus doesn’t have a colorful tent and a caravan to show off, in fact he has nothing to show off. Come and see the stone for his pillow, come and see the dirt on which he lays. This is nothing like what was expected, and it is not about what we get when we respond to Jesus’ invitation and God’s faithfulness. This is not about what’s in our wallets, it is not about getting what we deserve, or living in prosperity. This is not about getting our needs met. Responding to the invitation to come and see is about relationship.

A relationship with Jesus, who is Emmanuel, God in our midst, Jesus is the one who walks with us, through the scary places, by the deep and dangerous water, by the peaceful and still water, to show us the way. For it is only a God who is willing to live this life with us, a God who is willing to give up all power to be like the powerless, who is a God in whom I can put my faith.

It is because Jesus is Emmanuel, God with us, the God-Revealer, the Lamb of God that it is worth the cost to follow. Jesus invited Andrew and Simon to come and see, and they recognized him for who he is, Rabbi, teacher, God with us. And they followed. They gave up their lives as fishermen, and followed Jesus, it cost them everything, for this relationship, they were disciples. Immediately following this part of the story we heard this morning is the calling of Philip and Nathanael, who also recognized Jesus and followed.

Why do Andrew and Simon, Philip and Nathanael, give up everything to follow Jesus? Not because of who they are, but because of who Jesus is. It’s not about them, it’s not about us, it’s about Jesus. In the gospel of John, Jesus is God’s word spoken into human form, God’s word clothed in arms and legs, hands and feet, God’s word entering human history.

Jesus speaks the word and it happens: forgiveness and judgment, healing and illumination, mercy and grace, joy and love, freedom and resurrection. Everything broken and fallen, sinful and diseased, is called into salvation by God’s spoken word, by Jesus the God-Revealer.

Eugene Peterson, who wrote The Message, writes in his introduction to the gospel of John, Jesus doesn’t impose salvation as a solution, he narrates salvation into being through leisurely conversation, intimate personal relationships, compassionate responses, passionate prayer, and his suffering and death. You and I cannot casually walk away from words like that; we cannot walk away from Jesus without making some sort of response. The response that Andrew and Simon, Philip and Nathanael made was to follow. You and I have that same choice, to follow, or not to follow.

Tomorrow we celebrate the life of one of Jesus’ modern day followers, Martin Luther King Jr. Much has been said and much has been written about Martin Luther King Jr., and my purpose today is not to reiterate all of that, but to talk about discipleship as a response to who Jesus is, and Martin Luther King Jr. embodied that discipleship. Martin Luther King Jr. was a great man, and a flawed man, much like many of us. But about himself what he wanted people to remember was that he fed the hungry, clothed the naked, and loved and served humanity.

What is our response to Jesus, the God-Revealer? To feed the hungry? Clothe the naked? Love and serve humanity? Martin Luther King Jr., Andrew, Simon, Philip, Nathanael, and each one of you is a disciple. Today is a day about discipleship; today is a day about our response to Jesus, the God-Revealer. Last week we heard the words spoken to Jesus, spoken to each one of us, this is my child, chosen and marked by my love, delight of my life. Today is about responding to these words.

Discipleship is simply our response to the awesome and amazing love that God reveals to us in the person of Jesus Christ. But discipleship is costly, as Andrew, Simon, Philip, Nathanael, Martin Luther King Jr., and all the others know dearly. Discipleship is costly. Our culture tends to not consider the cost of leaving behind something when we follow Jesus, instead it asks what do I get? And as Dietrich Bonhoeffer, the prominent German theologian wrote in 1937, when the rise of the Nazi regime was underway in Germany, "costly grace confronts us as a gracious call to follow Jesus, it comes as a word of forgiveness to the broken spirit and the contrite heart. It is costly because it compels a man to submit to the yoke of Christ and follow him; it is grace because Jesus says: "My yoke is easy and my burden is light." The cost of discipleship is being forgiven, it is being made whole, and being in relationship.

My hope for each one of us is to respond to God’s gracious Word, with mercy and compassion, to respond by feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, serving humanity. You and I are called to be Jesus’ followers, to be Jesus’ disciples today as much as any day in history, and maybe more urgently than ever.

Come and see the One who loves you unconditionally, absolutely , and abundantly.

Alleluia. The Lord has shown forth his glory: Come let us adore him. Alleluia.

Saturday, July 3, 2010

6 Pentecost Yr C

The readings from Luke for the last three weeks have been about the unfailing love and abundant grace that God has for us. We have heard how that love and grace calls us into relationship with God, and transforms us. We have heard that God does not call us away or out of the world, but instead calls us to do our work, to be in relationship, to go about our business in a way that is new, in a way that reveals God’s unfailing love and grace to the world. We also call this discipleship. This is our call, this is our work. The gospel of Luke is all about being a disciple.

To be a disciple is to be on a journey of active faith formation, and to be a disciple is to be part of ushering in the reign of God. According to Luke, the reign of God is about reordering human interaction, we see that when Jesus brings to the center those people on the margins. And the reign of God is about loving one another as God has loved us offering peace to all we encounter. In the gospel passage from Luke this week, we hear that discipleship is expanded to include everyone, and that discipleship is about radical hospitality.

In the New Revised Standard Version translation we just read, we heard that Jesus appointed seventy disciples and sent them out in pairs. However, many New Testament scholars are convinced the earliest transcripts read 72. Seventy-two is a significant number. At the time Luke’s story was told, the number of the world’s nations is seventy-two. Seventy-two is also reckoned in an apocryphal book, Enoch, as the number of princes and languages in the world. And according to legend, seventy-two elders were commissioned to translate the law from Hebrew to Greek, a project undertaken in order to win renown throughout the whole world for the Jews and their God.

Seventy-two really means everyone. So now it is not just the original Jewish disciples of Jesus that spread the Good News of God in Jesus Christ. It is gentiles as well, and it is all of us; every one of us is a disciple and we are all called to spread the Good News.

Last Wednesday the church celebrated the feast day of St. Peter and St. Paul. A gift that St. Peter and St. Paul give to us in the 21st century is the gift of disagreement. At the very beginnings of the church, these two important church leaders could not agree on who’s in and who’s out. The argument about circumcision which is referred to in the Galatians passage, was a huge argument in the 1st century. Basically, the question was do disciples of Jesus have to be circumcised as a Jew before they can be baptized? This question was about what it means to be a disciple of Jesus, and what it means to be Jew. It is a question that caused communities to stop talking to each other; it caused communities to split apart and even stop eating together. The answer to the question however, was always Love one another as God has loved you. And, a sign of that love was to settle your differences before you come to the table to eat. St. Peter and St. Paul taught us to agree to disagree, because we are all part of one family. The way St. Peter and St. Paul taught us to agree to disagree is to practice radical hospitality.

That is what this passage before us today is about. All of us are called to radical hospitality; all of us are called to discipleship. What we have before us is both sides of hospitality, offering hospitality as well as receiving hospitality.

Jesus sends the seventy-two out to do the work of preaching and teaching, and harvesting the fruits of that labor. Jesus sends them with instructions. Those instructions are about receiving hospitality. First say “peace to this house” and then stay there and receive their hospitality. Eat and drink, cure the sick and preach the Good News. If they do not welcome you, if they do not offer hospitality, leave in protest, and know that the kingdom of God has come near. Remember, what Luke means when he writes about Jesus ushering in the kingdom of God is the reordering of human interactions. Jesus brings those who are on the margins to the center, those who are first will be last, those who are out will be in.

What does the discipleship of radical hospitality look like in the 21st century? Discipleship is offering hospitality and receiving hospitality, and in doing so, the kingdom of God is near. As disciples we are called to welcome the stranger. We are called to offer rest, to wash their feet, and a place at the table. When we offer this radical hospitality, we act as disciples and the kingdom of God is near. We, as disciples, are called to offer hospitality to everyone, people we agree with, people we disagree with, people that look like us, people who look different than us, people that we grew up with, people who are strangers.

As disciples we are also called to go out into the world, walking along side one another, and say to all we meet, Peace to you, peace to your house, peace to your people. We are to take the gospel seriously, be transformed by it and offer it’s message of hospitality to all we meet, to all whose paths we cross, and to all who come alongside us as we journey together. In this age of rampant individualism, offering hospitality and walking alongside one another, including and especially those who are different from us, is a radical and difficult call. This encounter requires attentive listening and willingness to enter into another’s world and be transformed by this world.

Peace to this house, peace to your house, peace to the stranger’s house.

Worship the Lord in the beauty of holiness: Come let us adore him.

All Saints Day, Nov 1 2026, Sts. Martha and Mary, Eagan

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