Tuesday, September 27, 2022

16 Pentecost Yr C Proper 21 Sept 28 2022




16 Pentecost Yr C Proper 21 Sept 28 2022

Amos 6:1a,4-7, Psalm 146, 1 Timothy 6:6-19, Luke 16:19-31

 

Luke just doesn't let up on us, at all, ever. One parable more difficult and confusing than the last. The kingdom of God is like... layers of meaning, what it seems like on first blush may not be what it really is about. There was a certain rich man, who feasted luxuriously every day, and at his gate lay a certain poor man named Lazarus, all Lazarus wanted was to eat the crumbs the rich man dropped. Remember one of the themes of Luke's gospel is wealth, so is this parable about wealth, and its proper use?

 

Well, Lazarus died, and was carried by angels to Abraham's side, Abraham, the father of Israel. The rich man died and was tormented in the place of the dead. This is clearly a judgement about the proper use of wealth, and the rich man gets it in the end, right? There's more to prove that, Lazarus is being comforted, and the rich man is in great pain, the crevasse between is unbridgeable. There is a chasm between good and bad, rich and poor, it is all clear and easy to understand. Well now, that would not be a parable, would it?

 

So the rich man does not want his five brothers to come to this place of agony, and he wants Lazarus to warn his brothers to repent. It must be about repentance. Is it about wealth, judgement, repentance? It is about all of these things, it is a parable after all.

 

But in the end, is it about resurrection? In the end, is it about how life is to be lived while living? Abraham said, "If they don't listen to Moses and the Prophets, then neither will they be persuaded if someone rises from the dead." In the end, it is really about living. It is not about the reward at the end, it is about the life that Jesus inaugurated on the cross and in the resurrection. It is about the whole new life and the whole new world that Jesus makes real for us, for God's creation. It is about the amazing and abundant love now, in this life, that causes us to be workers for justice, for peace, for healing, for compassion. And it is about Luke's counsel and concern regarding wealth.

 

It is about our riches, our wealth. A priest in the Diocese of Utah, Lyn, told me this story, it's a story about incarnation. It's a story about showing up with and for people. It's a story about the real presence of Jesus. It's a story about an embarrassment of riches, and it's a story of gratitude. Lyn says, one day she answered the phone at her church, and there was an unfamiliar voice at the other end. He said he needed some help. Now, in this business, when you get a phone call like that, you stop listening and wait for the ask. Sometimes you want to stop the speaker and just say, how much money do you need? Lyn listened, and was surprised that what the caller wanted was prayer. He had just seen a doctor and was afraid of what the doctor might tell him, he had a young daughter, but no one else. He just wanted someone to pray with and for him. Lyn did, she prayed with him. He told her he would let her know how it all turned out.

 

Rich and poor don't always look like what we think they should look like. We are rich. We are rich in our community. Any one of you comes right here, to this place, and asks for prayer. And we, your community, envelope you in love, in prayer, in support. We accompany you on your healing journey. You have family, you have friends, you are rich. After your diagnosis, or after your surgery, you have a list of people to call to tell about how it's going. A whole list. This man, who asked for Lyn to pray with him, had one phone call to make after the doctor gave him the news, one phone call, to Lyn. And the news he delivered was good. Lyn could celebrate with him.

 

This is what incarnation looks like. It looks like showing up with and for others. It is bearing God's love and God's hope and God's dream for the world in our very beings. It is bringing healing into brokenness, and it is bringing love to bear when hate is all around.

 

It is seeing, really seeing. The rich man in our story never paid heed to Lazarus in life, never. Seeing is a very big deal. And the rich man's eyes are blind to Lazarus. Before you can have compassion for people, you have to see them, look into their eyes, and see, acknowledge their presence, their needs, and gifts, and above all their status as a beloved and blessed child of God.

 

So I think this is Luke's point, Luke urges us to gratitude, and thankfulness for the abundant life that comes through Jesus' resurrection, the new life that Jesus makes real. And that brings us to seeing, really seeing those around us and around our neighborhoods and around our schools, and around the world as God's beloved children deserving our care, attention, and friendship. And Luke says to us give, give out of your richness, whatever that richness looks like.

 

Luke says to us that this reality that we celebrate each time we gather for a meal, each time we come to this table, each time we say together, Risen Lord, be known to us in the breaking of the bread, we, crumb by crumb, drop by drop, live into the new creation Jesus makes us into. We see, we experience, the fullness of life God intends and offers, and we embrace the people God has set in our path.

 

Luke tells us in this parable that through the gift of Jesus, the gift of incarnation, the gift of resurrection, God with us in the flesh, God with us in the spirit, we are made new creations, and the character and quality of our lives today matter. Not because we do good things to earn a reward, but because first and foremost we are loved. Eternal life is not a distant reality, it starts now. It starts with Jesus’ relationship with us. Eternal life is life in its fullness now, given to us through God who loves us.

 

And we respond to that gift by giving from our richness, from our abundance. We respond to that gift by really seeing the people around us. Jesus is in our midst.

 

Always remembering, if it isn’t about love, it isn’t about God. Amen.

Wednesday, September 21, 2022

14th Sunday after Pentecost Yr C Proper 19 Sept 11 2022




14th Sunday after Pentecost Yr C Proper 19 Sept 11 2022

Exodus 32:7-14, Psalm 51:1-11, 1 Timothy 1:12-17, Luke 15:1-10

 

We have before us today the first two of three stories that show us what the kingdom of God looks like. First the lost sheep, then the lost coin, and lastly the lost son. These three stories, taken together, show us that Jesus crosses boundaries to find and collect those who are lost, and they show us the exuberance and abundance of God’s grace and love, and the celebration when one is found.

 

Jesus hangs out with undesirable people. Or at least people the Pharisees thought were undesirable. The Pharisees were a group of religious people who kept some pretty rigid standards about who was acceptable and what made them acceptable. The Pharisees were what was called the purity movement. Not only were they the gatekeepers but they also were the rule makers. What was very important to the Pharisees was that standards were kept, therefore, those who did not meet those standards were not welcome, especially when it came to eating.

 

But something was different about Jesus. Jesus was raised in a good Jewish home, by good Jewish parents, but Jesus began to cross some lines, blur some boundaries, make people uncomfortable. The tax collectors and sinners were coming near to listen, and Jesus was eating with them. In fact, large crowds of people would sit on hillsides and in parks to listen to what he had to say. The Pharisees were looking on, they were listening in on what Jesus was saying, and watching for who Jesus was eating with. This is the setting in which these stories, these parables, about the lost things takes place.

 

The sheep is lost. It has wandered off, ninety-nine sheep left behind, and the shepherd goes out to find that one darned sheep. The shepherd looks and looks and finally there it is. The shepherd wraps this sheep in his arms, cradles it across his shoulders, tucked around his neck, where the shepherd can feel its heartbeat, slowing with every step, calming with every assurance, you’ll be ok, I’ve got you now.

 

One coin, out of ten, was lost. The woman lights a lamp, sweeps the house, and searches diligently until she finds it. And when she does, she invites her friends to come and rejoice with her.

 

The third story is left out of our lectionary, the story of the lost son, most commonly known as the prodigal son. It’s probably left out today because it is the longest and most detailed of the lost stories, it actually has its own place and time. But the three really need to be considered together. The youngest son in the household demands his inheritance from his father, takes it and leaves. That effectively removes the son from the family and the community, he no longer really exists. After years of excess, the son realizes his mistake, and returns home. The father declares what was lost has now been found, and what was dead is now alive. The father rejoices at the return of his son.

 

Have you ever felt like that one who is lost? Have you ever wandered, wondered, if you would ever be found again, scooped up in the arms of anyone who loves you? You may know what that embrace feels like. But maybe not, maybe that return and embrace is yet to come. The one who waits, the shepherd, Jesus, anticipates your return.

 

Don’t you hate that feeling of losing someone in a crowd? The initial panic of “Where’d he go?” followed immediately by “Oh my God he’s lost!” Even when it’s just for a minute. We were at the Minnesota State Fair when the kids were very young, you all know what those kind of crowds are like. Up near machinery hill, playing on the Rainbow Playsets, and all of a sudden our son Tom is gone. We panic, and look desperately for him, convinced someone has snatched him and run off with him. And the god-awful longest minute later, there he is, running toward us, as panicked as we are, and we snatch him up and hold him tight never to let go again. There is never even a question of leaving the ninety-nine behind, of course I search for the one who is lost.

 

That one horrible minute of being lost, it’s not about anyone being at fault, it is about the love and compassion in the finding, and in the returning to the arms that enfold, and encourage, and celebrate our return.

 

Our State Fairs feel like the biggest party on earth. It seems like everyone in the entire state attends, all of humanity is there, all at the same time I am. And the food…the corn on the cob, and the cream puffs, and everything imaginable on a stick.

 

But the party held at the return of the one who was lost, is even bigger and better than any State Fair. Because, like the State Fair, no one is left out, every darn person is invited, even people I would never have invited to my party, there are people there I would never have eaten a pronto pup next to in any other place or at any other time.

 

Now all the tax collectors and sinners were coming near to listen to Jesus. And the Pharisees and the scribes were grumbling and saying, “This fellow welcomes sinners and eats with them.

 

The story of the lost sheep, the story of the lost coin, and the story of the lost son, help us to see how deeply Luke believes that this great feast, this great banquet, this amazing meal, is the portrait of the kingdom of God. In those stories, what was lost is found, what was dead is alive, and the celebration begins. In the third story, the lost son, we never find out if the older son, the one who was loyal and never got himself lost, ever joined in the celebration. He may very well have missed out because he was so angry at his father for welcoming back his brother. Each story shows us an increasing measure of loss and pain. But the measure of that loss and pain is nothing compared to the immensity of the joy of the one who welcomes the lost ones back.

 

The joy of the one who welcomes back the lost, and the celebration that ensues, shows us what the Kingdom of God looks like. It includes the outcasts and sinners, it includes the expanse of time and space. It includes the fellowship we have around our kitchen tables, our Eucharistic tables, and our soup kitchen tables. It includes even the one who would rather not be included.

 

I’m reminded of a movie I watched with my kids, over and over. Hook, with Robin Williams, a remake of the story of Peter Pan. In Hook, the kingdom table is piled high with all the wild and wonderful things that can be imagined. And the people sitting at that table, are lost boys, battered, bruised, lost, and found.

 

God’s kingdom table is populated with all those who have turned from God and returned to God. God’s kingdom table is populated with all those younger children who have been reckless, and all those older children who have been loyal. God’s kingdom table is populated with all those who stand on the margins and look in, and those in the center whose gaze is nearsighted. God’s kingdom table is populated with those who wish to be first, and those who are always last. God’s kingdom table is populated with all of us who are scooped up by the joyful, compassionate one, and ride on those shoulders all the way to the celebration. The table is set, the party is ready. Come.

 

13 Pentecost Proper 18 Yr c Sept 4 2022



13 Pentecost Proper 18 Yr c Sept 4 2022

Deuteronomy 30:15-20, Psalm 1, Philemon 1-21, Luke 14:25-33

 

Luke keeps at us, never lets up, and 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 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 following Jesus 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 your possessions and 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.

Sunday, August 28, 2022

12 Pentecost Proper 17 Yr C Aug 28 2022



12 Pentecost Proper 17 Yr C Aug 28 2022

Sirach 10:12-18, Psalm 112, Hebrews 13:1-8, 15-16, Luke 14:1, 7-14

 

Luke, the gospel writer of hospitality, tells us a story about Jesus who is going to eat at the house of a leader of the Pharisees, who we learned all about last week as the keepers of the Law. This is the Sabbath, a day that is held in high esteem according to the Law, a day set apart from all other days. In the story that Luke is telling us, Jesus observes how the guests take their places, and tells a story about an invitation to a very special meal, a wedding banquet, and another rather ordinary meal, like a luncheon or dinner. So we have before us, a story within a story, and then, another story.

 

I just presided at the wedding of my nephew and his bride, it was a very fun affair, and a privilege to be the presider. However, a wedding banquet in 1st century Mediterranean culture would have been nothing like that. It would have gone on for days, and the celebration was public, everyone in the whole village would have come to the celebration at one time or another. And in fact, there would have been multiple meals all week long. So after Jesus talks about the wedding, he then goes on to describe meals, and hospitality sort of generally, giving an accounting for who should be invited. There are many things going on here.

 

So how can we understand these stories, these parables. Imagine yourself as an invited guest. What does that mean for you? Where do you sit? With whom do you sit? Is there ever a time you may think to yourself, surely not saying anything out loud, that person should not be here, or that person is not distinguished enough, or that person is not good enough, that person is not like me, that person should not be at this table. But Jesus says, "give this person your place." And we hear in the letter to the Hebrews, Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by doing that some have entertained angels without knowing it.”

 

Now, I want you to imagine yourself as the one who does the inviting. You’re throwing the party. Jesus says, When you give a luncheon or a dinner, do not invite your friends or your brothers or your relatives or rich neighbors, in case they may invite you in return, and you would be repaid. But when you give a banquet, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame and the blind. And you will be blessed, because they cannot repay you, for you will be repaid at the resurrection of the righteous.”

 

Remember, Jesus tells this parable when he is at a meal in the house of a leader of the Pharisees. You gotta believe the leader of the Pharisees have an agenda in inviting Jesus over, usually, they want to test him, they want to see what he's made of, they want to find out if he is righteous before the law. And so far, in the eyes of the Pharisees, Jesus has failed miserably. He heals on the Sabbath, he eats with sinners and outcasts, and now, he's telling everyone in hearing distance not to invite the important people over for a meal but invite those who cannot return the invitation. Who do we invite to come eat with us here at this tableDo not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by doing that some have entertained angels without knowing it.”

 

And lastly, I want you to imagine the invitation itself. This is an invitation that we cannot pay back. Jesus invites each and every one of us to the table, it's not about whether or not we deserve an invitation. Because, somehow, we are transformed in the eating. Somehow, we cannot leave the table without being changed. It is not our own doing, it is indeed the love that wins, the love that blesses, that changes us, the love that heals us. Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by doing that some have entertained angels without knowing it.”

 

You see, this story within a story from the gospel writer Luke, who is all about hospitality, gives us a picture of God's kingdom. 

What does the kingdom look like in this story?

 

Again, in Jesus’ culture, the greatest good was one's honor. Of course, you sat at the head of the table, of course you expected those less than you to sit at the lowest place. Of course, you invited the important people, the people who could do something for you, the people who had something you need. You would not have considered any other way. That's the way the world worked. It's really not so much different today. Jesus came among the first century people, as Jesus comes among us and says there is a new way, a way of God's kingdom. And in that kingdom, everyone has honor, everyone has status, and that is based on God's love, that is based on being created in God's image. It is not about who you are, it is not based on how much you have, it is not based on anything you can do. In God's kingdom, we are all related, and what we do matters. In God's kingdom it is love that wins and love that blesses.

 

What do you hear in this story? I hear a story of abundance and of enough. Do not be worried about who comes to the party, there will be enough. In God's kingdom there is enough, share what you have. Jesus is inviting us to stop counting and start giving and blessing. What would it be like to live into the freedom to stop calculating our social prestige and stop worrying about what others think and simply be kind to everyone around us, particularly those who are not often the recipients of kindness? What would it look like at work, at school, and at the places we volunteer or play sports or socialize, to look out for those who seem off on the margin and to invite them into the center by inviting them into our lives, inviting them to the lunch table? Jesus invites us to experience the joy of playing Gods helper” in handing out the abundant gifts of dignity and worth and value with which we have been blessed. There is joy that comes from blessing others with our regard.

 

We are called to this hospitality, we are called to this invitation, we are called to build this kingdom, where no one is an outcast, where all of us sinners are welcome. We are called to the table to feed and be fed. As we feed and are fed, we are sent into the world to be the heralds of this kingdom. We are sent into our work, and our school, we are sent into our communities, bearing this new reality. We are sent into the world to show hospitality to strangers, for by doing so we entertain angels. By doing so we are the agents of God's kingdom. By doing so we bring God's healing and reconciliation to all who are broken, which is each and every one of us.

 

We are followers of Jesus. We are invited to the table where there is no preference of place. We are invited to be builders of the kingdom. We are charged to engage every person with mercy and compassion, for by doing so, we entertain angels. Amen. 

Monday, August 22, 2022

11th Sunday after Pentecost Yr C Proper 16 Aug 21 2022



11th Sunday after Pentecost Yr C Proper 16 Aug 21 2022

Isaiah 58:9b-14, Psalm 103:1-8, Hebrews 12:18-29, Luke 13:10-17

 

Behold, I make all things new, my favorite verse in the book of Revelation. Behold, I make all things new may very well what the gospel writer Luke is trying to tell us. Luke is concerned with the relationship of the Law, given to God’s people, and the new creation, Jesus, given by God to God’s people. 

 

So what is the purpose of the law?

According to the stories told in the Old Testament, the purpose of the law is to provide us guidance in how to live with each other so that all of us may get more out of this life and world we share. The law, in short, promotes civility, cooperation, and health. It lends a certain order to our lives, order that creates space in which to flourish and grow. For all of these reasons, the law is given to the Israelites by God not to help them become God’s people but as a precious gift because they already are God’s people. But that’s not always how we use the law. Simply because law does, in fact, lend a modicum of order to a chaotic world, we are all too often seduced into thinking that creating and maintaining order is the purpose the law. We forget that the order the law provides is not an end in itself but rather is meant to serve life and health.

 

Which is what happens here in Luke. The original commandment to keep the Sabbath holy and to do no work on the Sabbath was meant to ensure that people who had been slaves for years and never knew rest would finally be guaranteed at least one day of rest a week. It was, in this sense, the first labor protection law, ensuring that employees and servants alike were not overworked. The law of the Sabbath, in other words, was designed to promote life and health.

 

But in this scene we see how one who is charged with keeping the law turns a means into an end, chastising Jesus for bringing life and health to this woman because it disrupts the order we tend to prize above all.

 

Before we are too hard on this zealous religious leader of Jesus’ day, however, let’s keep in mind how often we insist on keeping the letter of the law at the expense of its intent, and let’s be honest about our own craving for order and stability that makes it difficult for us to imagine “exceptions” to the law that promote greater life and health. Jesus challenges the letter of the law, even breaks its ordinance, because Jesus remembers the purpose of all of God’s Law. 

 

The purpose of all of God’s Law is freedom. This woman with a spirit that had crippled her for eighteen years and was bent over and quite unable to stand up straight. When Jesus saw her, he called her over and said, "Woman, you are set free from your ailment." When he laid his hands on her, immediately she stood up straight and began praising God. 

 

Any day that celebrates new life is a good day for healing. Today is the day to stand up straight and praise God. Not only is today the day to stand up straight and praise God, it is the day for walking, leaping, moving forward informed by the past, into a future of hope, a future of creativity, a future of wholeness and healing. You see, that’s what this is all about; this gathering each Sabbath. 

 

We are the same as the woman in our gospel today. This woman whom Jesus set free. This woman who was bound up, or enslaved, for all of her adult life. This woman whom Jesus released. This good news we hear today is true. You and I know it is true because it describes our lives, each one of us is set free, each one of us is released from the bonds that hold us at a distance from each other, we are released from the bonds that keep us believing that ultimately our needs, real or perceived, are the most important needs in the room. You see, unlike what we experience in so many places in our lives, God's relationship with us is not transactional, God's relationship with us is loving, giving, emptying, freeing.

 

We find ourselves here today not because we have to be here, or we are obligated to be here, but because we are free. We are free from the bonds of selfishness, from the bonds of self-absorption, and egotism. We are free from the religion of our culture that preaches our worthiness is in a transaction - you must buy, you must have, you must consume, you must be the most important or good looking person in the room.

 

And Keeping Sabbath matters, your being here matters. Just like this woman, we bring all our brokenness, we bring all our hurt, and we are healed. And in the healing and being made whole again, being put back together, we are freed. We are freed to show compassion. And in reaching out, showing compassion, we participate in bringing God’s healing, freedom, joy and peace to those in need, and that is a rejuvenating path, a creative path, to experiencing those things more fully in our own lives. We are free to be transformed into the persons we are created to be. So what’s really important here? God's dream is healing and reconciliation, God's dream is love and compassion. Keeping the Sabbath is about keeping God’s dream the main thing. And it is about the nearness of the kingdom.

 

The woman in our story today was released from the bondage of her ailment. We too are released from bondage, but you and I both know that we tend to choose to stay in bondage. We tend to believe the religion of our culture that says to us either “you are like God” and deserve to have anything and anyone you want, or “you are worthless” and deserve only what happens to you, both of which are lies. 

 

The truth is so very different from any of that. The truth is that we are God’s beloved creation, and that God loves us whether or not we love God, and that God came to be part of creation, to live, love, suffer and die, so that we may be reconciled, joined together with God and with one another so that we may be free. The truth is that the story is not about any one of us, but the story is about God’s relationship with us, and our relationship with God and our neighbor.

 

That’s the main thing, and what flows from that main thing, what flows from God’s amazing and abundant love for us is the freedom to love others, regardless of approval or disapproval, regardless of whether or not they deserve our love, regardless of whether or not they brought life’s circumstances upon themselves or if they are a victim of circumstances. What flows from God’s amazing and abundant love for us is mercy and compassion.

 

So this week as we reflect on the gospel, it might do us some good to linger where Jesus lingers, to begin in a moment of Sabbath, to start from a quiet place within, and remember the main thing. The main thing, that it isn’t about me today, it isn’t about any one of us, it is about what happens outside the walls of this church. It is about meeting others with God’s compassion, God’s mercy, and reminding ourselves of the dignity, the freedom, the blessing that is God’s desire for each of us as God’s child.

 

Behold, you are made new. You are made in God’s image. Amen


*Much thanks to David Lose with the work on Law.

 

 

Saturday, August 13, 2022

10 Pentecost Yr C Proper 15 Aug 14 2022




10 Pentecost Yr C Proper 15 Aug 14 2022

Jeremiah 23:23-29, Psalm 82, Hebrews 11:29-12:2, Luke 12:49-56

 

Fire is one of the most powerful forces of nature. Spending the last two months with my son, who was attending the St. Paul Fire Academy, was fascinating. He’d come home to tell us all about how fire starts, how it moves, how it gets subdued. Fire threatens people and property. Fire threatens forest and hillside. Fires are destructive, fire burns, fire kills. Fire is energy and force that consumes until it burns itself out. And yet fire is necessary for a forest to be reborn.

 

The fire that Jesus came to bring to the earth is a fire of transformation. It is a fire that does not destroy but that refines, renews, and purifies. We know that not only does fire destroy, at the same time fire is the very thing that provides the energy for seed pods to open to create new life. You can see that so clearly in a place like Yellowstone National Park. We visited Yellowstone after the fires in 1988. The Park had been devasted. We visited again a few times in the 2000’s, and the new growth that has resulted from fire is amazing. Wildflowers, trees, that would never have grown if it weren’t for fire. 

 

This is like the refining and purifying fire that Jesus brings. This is the fire that has the strength to create something new out of something old, something alive out of what seems dead. This is the fire that molds liquid into solid, and melts solid into liquid. This is the fire that transforms a lump of clay into a beautiful pot.

 

In JRR Tolkein’s story, The Lord of the Rings, the premise is that a ring that was forged from the fires of the earth holds unbearable power for the ringbearer. The bearer of the ring is always corruptible, and will, eventually, succumb to the power of the ring. The only way for the ring to give up its power is to be thrown back into the fire. The journey of the ring bearer and the fellowship is a journey of transformation and refinement. It is a journey away from individualism and concern only for oneself, toward unity of purpose and shedding of selfishness. On the way, the dwarfs, men, hobbits, and elves, are faced with their own mortality, their own limitations, and realize the journey is about much more than each of them individually, and is much more about who they are together. They were challenged to use their gifts in ways they never thought possible. When the mission was accomplished, something new had been created out of the fire that refined, molded, melted, reshaped.

 

Fire transforms, fire refines, fire purifies. Fire is powerful. Jesus came to bring fire to the earth. Jesus came to transform and refine us. Nothing is the same after the fire. Nothing looks the same, nothing smells the same, everything is different. What was old has been reshaped, reformed. Jesus came so that nothing is the same as it was.

 

One of those things that Jesus transforms is relationships. Remember that the gospel writer Luke claims that part of Jesus’ mission was and is to redefine kinship. Everything changes with Jesus and after Jesus, especially kin relationships. Everything changes, including the assumptions that have always been made about the natural order of family relationships. What I think Jesus is saying here, and it is probably one of the most difficult passages in the gospel to hear, is that kinship is not the most important relationship, but our relationship to God is our most important relationship, our primary relationship. This is not different from the message of Luke that we’ve been hearing for some weeks. Our relationship with God is our primary relationship. But this transformation of relationship causes fractures. When all the members of a family are not in relationship with God, family relationships can be stressed, families even can become broken. 

 

In order to form a relationship, we must spend time in that relationship and pay attention to the other in the relationship. When we are in relationship with God, we must spend time with God in prayer, we must learn about God through reading scripture, and we Christians understand God who is one of us, Jesus Christ. We are an incarnational people. God is made known to us in the flesh, Jesus Christ. We say we know Jesus Christ through others, we say we know Jesus Christ through the breaking of the bread. So one way we are in relationship with God is to be in community, we participate in the body of Christ, we are made into the body of Christ.

 

Each one of us must be in relationship with God through prayer and learning, and all of us together as church must be in relationship with God through prayer and learning. That is part of what makes us followers of Jesus in community; and what results from prayer and learning in this community is that we may end up in different places, we may disagree. God created us all different, unique; we all have different lenses through which to see.

 

In a little book by the Rt. Rev. Neil Alexander, the former bishop of the diocese of Atlanta, called This Far by Grace, Bishop Alexander makes an observation, he says, “In the Anglican tradition, we got over the need to agree with one another centuries ago. One of the glories of our way of being faithful is to hold together, in creative tension, a cacophony of diverse voices, a rich continuum of temperaments, and almost as many ways of knowing as there are things to be known. It’s often tense, but never boring.”

 

I think this is the kind of fire of creativity that Jesus calls us to in this gospel passage. The fire that creates in each of us something new, something different, something that was only a seed pod before, but now can grow and flourish and be who and what it was meant to be. Eugene Peterson, in “A Long Obedience in the Same Direction” writes, “we do not have a God who indulges our whims, but a God whom we trust with our destinies.” We trust God with our very lives in all of our diversity. We are not created new to be the same; we are created new to be who we are called to be. 

 

The fires of transformation and refinement are not about making us all the same. The fires of transformation and refinement are about making us unique and beautiful; the fires of transformation and refinement are about making us in God’s image. And in that uniqueness and in that beauty, all of us together come closer to being who God creates us to be. We are transformed into the people, not individual people, but a people, not just fathers and sons, not just mothers and daughters, but a people, from different tribes and different nations, which belong to God. We are transformed into a people who show forth their gifts. A people who love one another as we have first been loved. A people who offer dignity and respect to all. A people who together are better than they are apart. A people who are fed, who feed one another, and who go forth into the world giving thanks and praise to our God.

 

Amen. 

Sunday, August 7, 2022

Ninth Sunday after Pentecost Yr C Proper 14 August 7 2022




Ninth Sunday after Pentecost Yr C Proper 14 August 7 2022

Isaiah 1:1, 10-20, Psalm 50:1-8, 23-24, Hebrews 11:1-3, 8-16, Luke 12:32-40

 

Do not be afraid. Do not be afraid God assured Abram, do not be afraid, the angel assured Mary, do not be afraid James and John, for now on you will be fishing for people, do not be afraid, little flock, for it is your father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom. Do not be afraid we must be assured as well, do not be afraid.

 

Fear is a powerful motivator, for good or for ill. It seems that the world in which our sacred stories originated, and the world in which you and I live are not so different. Our ancestors were afraid of the same things we are afraid of, not having enough: food, water, clothing, housing. They were afraid of persecution, afraid of being teased and bullied for being different. They were afraid of death, afraid of the unknown, afraid of the dark, afraid of mortality and absence, afraid of natural disaster and human made disaster. They were afraid of those who seemed a threat, those whose ways are so different, those who believed in a God who seemed so foreign.

 

Today we live in a culture of fear. We are afraid of not having enough, and we are afraid of those we think may take away what we do have. We are afraid of reading the newspaper because we don’t want to read of the sadness, violence, and tragedy all around us. We are afraid when our investments are doing poorly and cutting into our retirement. We are afraid of getting sick because we don’t have enough health insurance to cover the hospitalization. We are afraid of getting old because we are unsure of what our bodies will become and what they will do, and the value of our lives until we die. We are afraid of people who think and do and believe differently from ourselves. We are afraid of dying and so we forget to live.

 

We are afraid of losing, losing our money, losing our lives, losing our house. And when we are so afraid of losing we hold on tight, we become greedy, we worship idols. We heard all about greed and idols in the parable we heard last week of the Rich Fool. Fear leaves us insecure and paranoid. Fear breeds intolerance and suspicion. Fear causes our relationships to be conditional and abusive.

 

No fear. Be not afraid. These are words of comfort, and they are words of action. How do we follow Jesus in a culture of fear? What is the fitting response, the ethical response to fear? Now, fearlessness is not a good thing. But that is why God chooses to be known to us, so that we may stop being afraid of the wrong things. Putting fear in its place is being freed from fear to being empowered by love to love. The quieting of fear is required in order to hear and do what God asks of us, and yet in our culture, fear seems to make the loudest noise.

 

Quieting our fear is not easy, but these overwhelming fears need to be overwhelmed by bigger and better things, by a sense of adventure and fullness of life that comes from locating our fears and vulnerabilities within the larger story that is ultimately hopeful and not tragic. It is the story of God’s abundant and amazing love that resides with us in the life and love, in the pain and suffering, in the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. And only by facing death, our most primal fear, can we move ahead to embrace life with the great nevertheless that is God’s gracious word to a broken world.

 

At our baptism, we were united with Christ and marked as Christ’s own forever. Through baptism we have already faced death, and seen it overcome. Every time we gather together here to celebrate Christ with us we acknowledge the work that God does in Jesus on the cross. Be not afraid, you are not alone.

 

Following Jesus in this culture of fear is to offer hospitality, and then we are no longer strangers. Following Jesus in this culture of fear is to be compassionate instead of safe. Following Jesus is to transform this culture of fear into a culture of hope.

 

And this is what it looks like to follow Jesus, it is our work as baptized people. Bringing the kingdom near, for the gospel writer Luke, is all about the amazing grace of God. We are followers of Jesus who express openhanded mercy to others, especially those in need. Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, extend hospitality to those who cannot reciprocate, give without expectation of return. Such practices are possible only for those whose dispositions and convictions and commitments have been reshaped by the transformative encounter with God’s amazing grace.

 

And we continue to hear, Do not be afraid, little flock, for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom. How do we live as kingdom people and live without fear? Sell your possessions, and give alms. In other words, be generous, give to the poor. The call of discipleship is to live as if we mean it, not as if we are afraid of it. The call is to live as if God is our priority. Eugene Peterson’s translation in The Message is, Steep yourself in God-reality, God-initiative, God-provisions. You’ll find all your everyday human concerns will be met. Don’t be afraid of missing out.

 

The call is to live our transformed lives in the world, and when we do that, we can change our world, we can transform our world, and the kingdom will be near. The call of discipleship is to no longer be afraid to be yourselves, to be the person God created you to be, to live your life as the beloved of God. When God is the priority, when God is our treasure, there our hearts will be also, and there will be no fear. There will be courage, we will be dressed for action and have our lamps lit. There is nothing we miss out on, instead, we are emboldened and encouraged to live our lives as agents for change, as revolutionaries, we are participants in bringing the kingdom near.

 

God gives us opportunities for discipleship, God gives us opportunities to minister with the least, the lost and the left out. God gives us opportunities to live boldly and courageously. God gives us opportunities to live as if we mean it, to live with no fear, and to witness to the nearness of God’s kingdom.

 

Be not afraid.

Be an outrageous expression of hope.  

Sixth Sunday after Pentecost Proper 9 July 5 2026, St. Martha and Mary, Eagan MN

Sixth Sunday after Pentecost Proper 9 July 5 2026, St. Martha and Mary, Eagan MN Genesis 24:34-38, 42-49, 58-67, Psalm 45: 11-18, or Song of...