Devoted & Devoured

•November 8, 2009 • Leave a Comment

Devoted & Devoured
1 Kings 17:8-16, Mark 12:38-44
Good Shepherd Lutheran Church 2009 Pentecost 23B

The past month or two the readings from the gospel of Mark have been an unfolding drama – we’ve been following Jesus as he and his disciples traveled from the areas outside of Israel – foreign lands, unclean places, with wretched people – into the center of holiness, the temple at Jerusalem. Jesus foretold of his death 3 times and each time the disciples couldn’t understand. They sought to be first while Jesus taught they would be last. What we skipped over these past two weeks as we celebrated Reformation Day and All Saints Day is the Triumphal Entry into the holy city. The palms were waved, the cheers were called out, the coats laid down. And now we find ourselves in the Temple with Jesus and the disciples. Jesus is being tested on every side – Pharisees and scribes trying to get him to say something that will implicate himself. They have been trying since the beginning of the story to trap him and get him arrested to no avail. Now for the first time he’s in their territory, the temple. The drama is heating up. The tension is thick. Because while there, he starts bad-mouthing the religious elite.

They wear their robes long and like to sit in places of honor and say long prayers, fortunately for me and Pastor Al we’re not wearing robes today. Yet while they do all this outwardly religious stuff they devour widow’s homes. In other words they take from the very people they are obligated to care for. Women with no source of income other than what is given to them by the community. Beware of these scribes who are only concerned with looking the part.

Then Jesus moves to another part of the temple and watches as people give to the treasury. The rich give large amounts out of their abundance. What they have left over after they’ve paid the mortgage and made the car payments. After they’ve bought their clothes and set their table. After the cupboards were stocked and the children fed. But a widow gives a couple copper coins. All that she had. Practically worthless to provide any kind of upkeep in the temple. Barely worth a cent, what good did she expect would come from it? The frugal and wise thing would have been to save it – because she needed it more than the temple. Jesus sees this and calls his disciples to him and points her out – her giving is over and above the vast sums the rich had given. She didn’t give what she could afford, what worked into a budget, what was fiscally prudent. She gave all she had to live on. She gave what the rich young ruler could not. How hard it is for the rich to enter the Kingdom of God – it’s easier for a camel to get through the eye of a needle. The worthless widow gave all she had to live on. The literal translation is, she gave her entire life.

Yet we give little of ourselves, proud of the abundance we have left over – that we might look the part. That we can have the status in our community that we think we’re expected to have. Whether it’s by the cars we drive, the places we live, the clothes we wear, the stores we shop – putting on airs so other will see our abundance rather than our giving. Striving for places of status. All this show on the outside – with mis-directed devotion on the inside.

Or maybe we don’t even show up – like the widow in 1 Kings, who had given up all hope for her & her son, ready to cook a last meal and die, we’ve lost all hope. We’re uncertain of what our future holds. Or we’re certain that the future holds nothing good for us. So we give up. Throw in the towel. Ready to savor the last little bit we have only to die. What’s the point of a couple copper coins? It’s not worth the effort. We’re not worth the effort.

Rarely if ever do we give our entire lives away to someone or something let alone an institution filled with people who have devoured our own homes. This widow shows her devotion – not to the temple or it scribes, not her own self-worth or perception. If these things were at the forefront of her mind, she wouldn’t have given, either out of anger at her oppression or out of her shame. Rather, the widow gives out of her devotion to God. How she uses her money – how she spends her entire life – which seems worthless – a mere copper coin or two – says everything about who she is. The rich gave out of what they could afford because it was easy. She gave her entire life – a few cents.

And the widow is the one that Jesus attends to. Jesus is always attending to the wrong people – the unclean & the outcast, the blind & the lame, the unworthy and worthless. Not the people have life put together. Who have their fortunes made and the lives set. Not the people whose kids act perfectly and as Rob Bell says, whose kid’s t-shirts are always ironed. Jesus lifts up as examples those have nothing to offer him or the world – little money, no prestige – only their entire lives. It is for these wrong people and the people who get it wrong that Jesus offers up himself. Like that widow who offers literally, her entire life even though the institution devours her home – Jesus offers his entire life for the sake of people who devour his life. Like those disciples who want the robes and the seats at Jesus’ right hand, who want to give out of abundance. Like us who struggle each and every day to be devoted to God in world that is ready to devour us if we don’t play by its rules. Jesus attends to us who haven’t figured it out yet. Who always seem to be behind the ball. Who missed their shot.

Fortunately, the widow is not a story about us and what we do with our money- as much or as little as we may have in our bank accounts right now. As Jesus faces his final days – knowing the pain and suffering, rejection and ridicule he will receive – this poor lowly woman, worth a couple copper coins is a sign of what Jesus is about to do. She is a reminder of the call to the disciples to give up everything – to be wholly devoted to being last and least to being the servant of all. To going the way of the cross. Because on the cross Christ demonstrates his devotion by being devoured. This story of the widow’s couple copper coins is really about Jesus.

His entire life is given over to death that our entire lives might be given over to life, life in abundance. His body and blood are given to us in this bread and wine. Bread & wine, which like the oil and flour from the widow of Zarapheth in our 1st lesson – never run out. In times of greatest famine – of hopelessness, of fear and uncertainty, when we are at the end of our lives – the bread and wine is given for us to devour. To enjoy avidly. To be filled with abundance of life. When we have nothing left, that is when God’ presence is most fully revealed and God’s provision is provided. God’s grace comes to us when we’ve lost it all. When our could ofs become should ofs. Grace is for those who have nothing to give, no corporate ladder to climb, no appearances left to maintain.

Last, least, and servant of all. That is the call of the cross. That is the call of the crucified. That is our calling. To give our entire lives. To give of ourselves not out of our abundance, but out of the very center of who we are. Christ as our center, our body, our blood we have confidence that we can give abundantly because we are sustained by God’s Spirit. Showing our devotion to the One who is devoured. Showing our devotion to those whom the world devours. The children who die of hunger and thirst and disease that are treatable. The women whose bodies are exploited as a commodity. The friends and family whose lives are full of famine and hopelessness.

No, today’s lesson is not about money. It’s not about stewardship drives and budgets. It’s about much more. The good news today is about Jesus giving his entire life to us. And in response we are called to give ours. Not out of abundance, but abundantly. For we have life to the fullest because of Christ’s death and resurrection, through this baptism where we bathe, in this meal we share.

May you go out this day full of life. May you go out this day confident that God will provide for you in your days of famine. May you go out this day and give your entire life, as you already are doing in so many different places and ways. May you go out this day trusting in Christ’s entire life given over for you and for the sake of the world.

Actively Resting

•October 29, 2009 • Leave a Comment

I’m currently reading two books: “The Scandalous God: The Use and Abuse of the Cross” by Vitor Westelle and “The Forgotten Ways” by Alan Hirsch. Westelle is a Lutheran theologian and Hirsch an Evangelical church planter.

As Hirsch recounts his story of planting a new congregation in South Melbourne, Australia he shares his vision for changing the worship experience from a 80/20 passive/active event to a 20/80 passive/active event. That is where 20% of those worshipping are actively participating in worship. I am not sure how he defines passivity and activity in worship. He would also put the passive number higher for “traditional” congregations (around 95%). He calls this kind of worship consumptive. He is opposed to individuals coming to worship are coming to a feeding trough and to receive services. He would rather have the community become more active in their gatherings. Hirsch writes:

In order to ensure that we fulfilled the church’s mandate to ‘make disciples,’ we simply had to revers the ration of active to passive (from 20:80 to 80:20) in order to move away from being a vendor of religious goods and services. We wanted the majority of community members to becoming and directly involved in the journey of becoming like Jesus. (p 46)

I have seen a movement throughout our entire culture to become more active, from commenting on news reports and blogs to Twittering live during continuing education events (with Jurgen Moltmann) and sermons while posting the tweets on a screen to making the sermon more of a dialogue between the preacher and the community and between community members. I certainly appreciate this trend and look for ways to implement it in the ministry at Good Shepherd.

In reading Westelle today I came across his discussion of poiesis, praxis, and theoria (Aristotelian terms). Poiesis (where we get poetry) is the creation of something that is lasting.  Praxis is the practice of something for the sake of doing it well.  Theoria is an observer’s “pure receptivity.” He relates it to the theater.  Poiesis is what the playwright does in writing the play that will be passed on.  Praxis is what the actors do in attempting to perform well for the sake of doing something well.  Theoria is what the audience does in observing the praxis of the poiesis.  In doing so, they are enriched.

Westelle continues to relate these to how God has acted in the world in creation and in Christ.

While in Genesis poiesis (creation) is followed by theoria (Shabbat) and then by praxis (human interaction, here the praxis of Jesus (his interaction) leads to his death. An unlikely moment of contemplation, rest, theoria, comes next (at least for those women in the evangelical narrative). This is followed by a new creation, poiesis, which closes the cycle with the resurrection account, bu only have the Shabbat of utter empitness is over. (p 136)

Theoria is important. The act of pure receptivity.  Those few moments when we stop producing, we stop practicing, and we simply receive.

In a church where the primary mode of interaction is through worship, maybe we rely too heavily on theoria. In a culture that finds its worth in producing or perfecting, maybe we rely too heavily on poiesis and praxis. They should not be pitted against one another – that’s too easy.  As a church leader, I need to find ways that the community can use all three – producing lasting gifts for the world, practicing their discipleship through study and prayer, and purely receiving the gifts of God in worship.

Oh Crap! Lord Help Me!

•October 8, 2009 • Leave a Comment

Today I had my first, “Oh Crap! Lord help me!” moment in ministry. An early morning phone call led to a leaving of the coffee brewing and a bowl of cereal in the fridge in order to meet someone in crisis.

What was I suppose to say? What was I suppose to do? Could I handle this?

We met and talked for a little while. I tried to recall Pastoral Counseling 101, but I didn’t remember this topic being covered.

I relied wholly on the promises of God to speak through me. Every movement I made, every posture I held, every word I spoke felt so intentional.   I pray that out of my jumbled mess of words and care, God will comfort and heal.

Today my prayers are from Anne Lamott – “Help me. Help me. Help me.”  and “Thank you. Thank you.  Thank you.”

What God Has Joined

•October 6, 2009 • Leave a Comment

What God Has Joined
Mark 10:2-16
The audio from this sermon can be found at www.eflock.org.

Grace and Peace to you in the name of our Lord, Jesus Christ.

Today we heard a hard word from Jesus concerning divorce and remarriage.  As I prepared for this sermon, many of my colleagues as well as myself, wondered how do we make sense of this text in a culture in which 1/3 of all first marriages will end within 10 years.  A culture in which almost everyone has had some experience with divorce.  A culture where the divorce of celebrities is just another headline in the check out line, while the divorce in ones own family can be devastating to everyone involved.

Before we get into Jesus’ words for today, it’s important to recognize that this teaching takes place in a series of events.  These events help us to understand this difficult passage.  In a relatively short span of time, Jesus predicts his death thee times.  Our passage comes after his second prediction to the disciples.  And the stories that follow all point back to how everyone else falls shorts of the life-giving service that Jesus has in mind.  First the disciples argue about who will be the greatest among them, while Jesus steadily moves toward his own death.  “Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all.”  Ultimately, this is the way that Jesus goes- the way of servanthood, of lastness, of death.  But the disciples still are unable to comprehend.  So when someone from outside their crowd shows up, someone who is drawing attention away from their own greatness – who is showing them up – they try to stop him.  They broke the rules of engagement that Pastor Al talked about last week.  They dealt with them out of arrogance.  Still wanting to be the greatest.

And then there’s the story right before ours today in which Jesus says that if your hand, eye, or foot cause you to sin you should cut them off.  To be maimed would have been a sign of disgrace to that community.  Nothing maimed or blind was acceptable as a sacrifice to God.  Those who were maimed or blind were not permitted to be priests.  Again, Jesus calls the disciples to be the last.  He challenges them to rethink what it means to be great in the world.   So it is into this line of stories , Jesus on a mission to Jerusalem, which will be the death of him, his predictions of betrayal, rejection, and death, and now these rejections of greatness that we come to this teaching on divorce and children.

The Pharisees again try to trap Jesus.  They are looking for any reason to prosecute him and get rid of him for good.  And so they ask him a question that they already know the answer to. “Is it lawful for a man to divorce his wife?”  Jesus has them answer their own question by referring them to the Scripture that they know so well.  Moses says that it is lawful. That a certificate of divorce must be written, probably to protect the honor of the woman being divorced throughout the community. And while it is grating on our contemporary ears, in that culture the woman and her livelihood was directly connected to either her father or her husband. This certificate would allow her to remarry.  It was a way to protect her from poverty.  Jesus, though, takes it further.  He quotes Genesis with Adam and Eve’s uniting.  What God has joined together, let no one separate.

Jesus is concerned, as one scholar writes, about sacrificing a spouse to satisfy one’s means of ambitions. Jesus is rejecting seeing our spouse as filler until something or someone better comes along, or as a hindrance to our social, economic, or political goals.  We cannot simply cast off a spouse on whim – to separate what God has joined together.  There are marriages and relationships that sadly need to be ended.  That are not life-giving, that are abusive, that are not what God intended.  And those decisions are often entered into with pain and sorrow, guilt and humbleness.  These situations, while just as painful for God as those involved, are the not focus of Jesus’ attention in our lesson.  Here, Jesus is concerned with seeing another person as a commodity that can be cast off for personal gain.

This concern is further revealed by the children who approach Jesus.  Men in the 1st century were deeply concerned with status.  And children were the bottom wrung on the ladder.  They would not always live to achieve adulthood, they were sold as property, they had no status whatsoever.  So why would Jesus, the leader of this movement to overthrow the Roman empire want to spend time with children, the disciples thought.  Doesn’t he have better people to meet, more important individuals to chat it up with in order to gain support?  “Get away from here” they shouted.  No! Bring them to me. Jesus shouted back.  They ought not to be sacrificed to satisfy one’s means of ambition.  These little and last ones.  These little children who are the opposite of greatness.  The opposite of status and ambition.  The opposite of what you want to be.  The kingdom belongs to them.  So be like them.  Little, last, and least.  That is how we must enter the kingdom.

Whatever we think makes us great, Jesus rejects.  Being a part of the in-crowd, following the letter of the law, physical prowess and athletic genius, spending time with the best of the best of society and disassociating with the lowest of the low, having all the money that you could ever want.  Jesus doesn’t care for those things.  Jesus says let the outsiders in, sacrifice yourselves for the sake of one another even if the law doesn’t require it, cut off your hands, your eyes, your feet if they are a detriment to others, gladly spend your time with the lowly, give all that you have away to the poor.

I thought about how these would translate into our modern world.  What would these situations be for us.  But they speak for themselves. Ambition, arrogance, materialism, self-regard.  In light of where Jesus is going and what Jesus gives himself up to, how can we claim greatness for ourselves?  In light of Jesus going to cross, becoming the least and servant of all, how can we claim that we have more right to the kingdom as followers than anyone else? We are separated from what God intends to be joined – us and our neighbor, us and God.

Like the disciples, who are told over and over again that to be great we must be the last and servant of all, we don’t understand.  We think following Jesus is about us.  That it is only about the ministry that we provide to those inside these walls.  To those on the inside.  To those who act like us, who sit next to us. That church is about getting what we need so that our family will be a showcase for the community.  We think that following Jesus is about the glory that we want to fill our lives in so many different ways.  But in reality following Jesus is about the cross. Humbleness.  Servanthood.  Suffering for the other. Relinquishing our rights.  The disciples won’t get it until after the fact.  After Jesus is dragged away, beaten, and hung on the cross.  They will hold on to their ideas of grandeur and power – fleeing from Jesus when he is at his weakest.

But in Jesus’ death, his weakness, his least-ness, Jesus is raised up to the right hand of the Majesty on high.  He is the reflection of God’s glory and the exact imprint of God’s very being.  Not just in his glory.  But most fully in his suffering.  In his sorrow.  In his rejection of what we claim is great and making great, what we reject.

As we look to the cross, we may find ourselves separated from God because of our aspirations for greatness, for stature, for ambition at the sake of others.  But there at the foot of the cross, weak and broken, last and least, rejected and resigned Jesus looks down and says let them come to me. Made great through his rejection.  All of you children of our Heavenly Father. Joined together through Christ’s separation.  And he takes us up in his arms, lays his hands on us, and blesses us.

What God has joined together through the death and resurrection of Christ Jesus, may no one or no thing separate.  Amen.

Today’s Prayer

•September 28, 2009 • Leave a Comment

All who for love of God forgive
All who in pain or sorrow grieve!
Alleluia, Alleluia!
Christ bears your burdens and your fears;
Still make your song amid the tears;
Alleluia, Alleluia, Alleluia, Alleluia, Alleluia!

And you, most gentle sister death,
Waiting to hush our final breath:
Alleluia!  Alleluia!
Since Christ our light has pierced your gloom,
Fair is the night that leads us home.
Alleluia, Alleluia, Alleluia, Alleluia, Alleluia!

All Creatures, Worship God Most High – ELW 835
Francis of Assisi