What Then Shall We Do?
Luke 3:1-18 (I put the two Luke texts together)
Advent 2C 2009 – GSLC
You can listen to this sermon at www.eflock.org

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

My mom’s gravy was lumpy. And she wasn’t happy about it. Thanksgiving dinner required better gravy than this. But as much as we stirred it, heated it, added stuff to it – it stayed lumpy.  We strained it and got the lumps out and thought we were good.  But there were still more lumps in there somewhere.  We knew because a day later after being in the fridge the lumps congealed on the top, we scooped them off and were left with pure turkey goodness.

This is the image that’s been in my mind this past week when hearing the words of judgment from Malachi and John.  Going through a refiner’s fire to be purified.  The the part of the tree that is not producing is cut off and burned up.  The fat on top of the gravy is scooped off.  And what is left is something better.  Something purer.  Something more beautiful.  Something better tasting.  Other than the gravy, these are haunting images.  Axes chopping down trees and throwing them into a fire.  Metal under intense heat.  The coming of the Messiah requires better than deadwood and fool’s gold and lumpy gravy.  It is time to put our best foot forward.  It is time to get ready.

Words of preparation surround us during Advent.  Waiting for the coming of the Messiah we are called to prepare the way – make the crooked roads straight, the rough places smooth.  All of creation will participate as valleys are filled and mountains leveled.  This call comes from the unlikeliest of places.  It comes from a man in the wilderness named John.

The beginning of the lesson from Luke sounds like a movie trailer doesn’t it? Can’t you just hear it – the deep ominous voiceover: In the 15th year of the reign of Emperor Tiberius – while Pontius Pilate ruled Judea and Herod was ruler of Galilee. And so on.  The stage is being set by placing all 7 rulers of the world in their global places.  These rulers are all that matters in the grand scheme of things.  Luke even mentions the High Priests Annas and Caiaphas who were the religious authority in Jerusalem.   But it’s not out of all these grand men in grand places.  Not out of all these rulers with their armies and followers.  But out of the wilderness comes the voice.

In the middle of nowhere John the Baptist finds himself filled with the word of God.  From the time the angel announced his birth to his elderly and barren parents, he has been set apart to lead people back to God.  To call them to true repentance.  A turning of their ways.  To scrape off the fat of their lives to get ready for the Messiah.  All kinds of people heard John’s voice.  The left, the right, and the middle. The poor Jewish crowds, the Roman friendly Jews who acted as tax collectors, the roman soldiers. They all flocked to him, some thinking he was the Messiah himself.  They heard his call to change, to scrape, to purify, and asked “What then shall we do?”

John’s answer to their question, seems according to David Lose, Professor at Luther seminary, a page right out of everything I know I learned in kindergarden.  Share.  Be Fair.  Don’t Bully.  At first glance these seem to be easy enough – right?  Share: If you have two coats, put one on the mitten tree for someone else.  But to the poor crowds, that would mean their only one coat away from having nothing.  They don’t have anything left to share.  The extra coat may be the only thing that feels like a life line to them.  Be Fair: only collect the amount due.  These Jews were seen as traitors- collecting money for the Roman oppressors – the pillars we began with.  And they take more than is due.  But cheating is how they make their living.  Taking that money for Rome and for themselves might be the only way to feel like they have control in their chaotic lives.  Maybe they’re one collection away from having nothing. Don’t Bully: The Roman soldiers in a foreign land.  Although they were in control they were surrounded on every side by people who despised their occupation of the land.  They had to show off their might to the people to keep order.  To keep respect.  Share.  Be Fair.  Don’t Bully.

His answers call the questioners to level the playing field.  The poor are brought up.  The Mighty brought down.  The Valleys filled.  The Mountains leveled.  John challenges who we think we know ourselves to be.  If you’re poor – you should still share, if you’re a hard worker – you should ensure you are not cheating anyone, if you’re a person in a position of power – you must never abuse that power.  Because the coming of the Messiah levels us all.

Isn’t the question of those crowds our question too?  What then shall we do? When life is just a little too overwhelming.  What then shall we do?  When the problems of the world seem so big and so distant. What then shall we do?  When lists and lines get longer and bills and expectations get higher.  What then shall we do?  When we or someone we love is lies on a hospital bed with nothing to do but to wait for morning.  What then shall we do?  When we feel as if we’re on the crooked roads rather than the smooth paths. What then shall we do? When the valleys and mountains are changing underneath our feet.   At times all we need is for someone to tell us what to do.  I’ve seen the response of this congregation over and over again when there have been calls for help. We need quilts – done.  We need Christmas baskets – done.  We need story bibles for our children – done.  We need to send our youth on a mission trip – done. These things are manageable for us.  These things are good for us to do.  But I wonder, what response John would give that would level us.  That would floor us.  That would change who we are and how we live in the world.

This past week in Confirmation we were talking about wisdom and where the youth get their advice.  When I suggested they ask their parents this week for advice about something – they were floored.  I would say 90% of them didn’t think it was such a good idea. “No way!” some said.  It would change the nature of their relationship.  And that’s so hard.

How would the voice in the wilderness answer your question, “What then shall I do?”  How would it scrape the congealed fat off the top of to do lists?  How would it burn up the dead limbs of our lives?  How would it purify the precious materials God has created us to be?  This week, prepare for the coming of the Messiah by listening to the voice of the one who comes before him. Who points us to Christ.  What answer does he give you?  How will it change you, your family, your relationships?

The answer may be overwhelming.  It may be more than you want to handle right now.  more than you can handle on your own. You may hear the voice and realize you can’t be the change you want to see.  The mountains are too high and the valleys are too low.  You may hear the voice and realize you don’t want to be the change. You’re happy with your coats, careers, and coercion of others.  You may hear the voice call for repentance and fall to your knees.  Waiting for the forgiveness of the one who comes in the name of the Lord.  Who comes as a child and dies as a criminal.   You may hear the voice and realize you respond in all these ways.  Be assured that the coming of the Messiah, the Anointed one, the Christ changes us.  It changes all of creation.  The paths do not straighten themselves.  The mountains do not bow down of their own accord.   It is through the coming of Christ to a cross in the wilderness that we find we are forgiven and changed forever. The preparation for Christ’s coming in the world and in our lives is strengthen by God.  The refiner’s fire that will purify us is fueled by the Holy Spirit.

The Holy Spirit that comes not to the pillars of the world, but to the cross places – places where a seemingly insignificant man dies alone and ashamed.  To places where we often find ourselves, not at the center of life – but on the fringes.  In the wilderness. The desert.  The dry and desolate places of life.  The Spirit comes to people who have questions.  Who have concerns.  Who have doubts and uncertainties about changing anything in our lives.  As Paul wrote to the assembly of people in Phillipi 2 thousand years ago and to the assembly of people in Plover today “The one who began a good work among you will bring it to completion by the day of Jesus Christ.”  The one who sealed you with his spirit and marked you with the cross of Christ in your baptism and who feeds you with spiritual food every week in this sacred meal will not forget or forsake you as you prepare for Christ’s coming.  Lives refining, branches chopped down, and gravy scraped.  Being made into the people God through the power of the Holy Spirit, into the people God has created us to be.

Don’t Worry. Be Happy.
Thanksgiving B 2009 – GSLC
Joel 2:21-27, Matthew 6:25-33

Grace and Peace to you in the name of our Lord, Jesus Christ.
Don’t worry – these same words were spoken at Rachel and my wedding. They sounded a bit tongue in cheek. Dressed in our best. Don’t worry about what you’re going to wear. Preparing to share in a feast with 200 of our closest friends and family. Don’t worry about you’re going to eat. Don’t worry about these things? We’d been worrying and planning for over a year now.

Don’t worry – a year out from an economic meltdown these words still sound a bit tongue in cheek. Don’t worry? Yeah right. The recession has come to an end, so they say. But jobs are still lost. The stock market is on the rise, but life savings remain lost. Don’t worry about those things? We’ve been worrying about them for a over a year now.

Don’t worry – spoken to a mixed crowd of people from a hill in an occupied land. Insiders, outsiders, followers, seekers, wonderers and wanderers, poor and oppressed, rich and elite. It’s sounds a little tongue in cheek. Don’t worry because God feeds the sparrows. Yet so many go hungry. Don’t worry because God clothes the grass of the fields. Yet so many are without adequate clothing. Don’t worry about these things? They’ve been worrying and waiting for over 400 years now.

Ever since losing everything. House and home, all their belongings, years of work stored up. Gone. Where have we seen this in our world? Their families relocated to someplace foreign – to be ruled over and put to work. Where there’s not chance of storing up or starting over. Exiled from everything they had. Everything familiar. Everything that was promised to them since Abraham and Sarah. Since the beginning. It was all gone when God spoke through Joel, the prophet of our first reading today.

Do not fear, O soil. Do not fear, you animals of the field. O children of Zion, be glad and rejoice in the Lord your God. The cupboards that are now bare will soon be stuffed. The jugs that are dry will soon be overflowing. All of this said when they have nothing. When all of they had was taken away.

Do not fear. Do not worry. Not because our food, our clothing, our homes do not matter. Not because they are a mere distraction to God. Not, but the exact opposite. They are central to God’s care and concern for our lives. God is deeply connected with the stuff of life. The actual stuff. The pay checks, the cupboards, the homes, the clothing.

Often we want to separate the stuff of life from our life in God. God, we say, isn’t concerned with this fleshy stuff. God is concerned with just the spiritual aspect of life. Jesus died to save the lost sheep, not our lost savings. And really, it’s not as if the ELCA’s board of pensions had any holy insights to protect them from the most recent economic storm. So the words “do not worry” don’t apply to us, because we think if we’re not worrying no one else will.

Or maybe we’re hoping God is just concerned with the spiritual aspect of our lives. Because then it won’t matter when we exploit others so that we can make an extra buck. This isn’t God’s area. God delivers people from slavery to sin, not the slums.
And so there’s God’s space. And earthly space. The two may overlap at little bit – like during stewardship drives and youth fundraisers – but that’s just here. Out there in the real world. That’s a different story. Either God doesn’t care and so we have to worry about making sure we have enough for our needs or God doesn’t care and so we don’t have to worry because we can do whatever we want.

But the One who says, “Blessed are the poor – in spirit for theirs is the kingdom of God,” and “blessed are those who hunger and thirst – for righteousness, for they will be filled,” also says that the God who is concerned for the sparrows in the dead of winter and the blades of grass that turn brown in the fall is the same God who delivered Israel from oppression, who brought the land back to life that it would produce and feed after years of famine – is the same God who is intimately involved with every aspect of your lives. The physical, the spiritual, the emotional, the relational, the familial. This God who reveals himself most fully in Jesus, a human being, in flesh and blood, reveals himself also in the everyday things; paying bills, dressing children, feeding one another with nourishing food.

Don’t worry. To those who do not see God at work in their money. To those who are sure that God is only concerned with their eternal soul when their done with it. It sounds a little tongue in cheek. But for us, who are washed and claimed in waters of baptism and clothed in Christ’s grace and love; who are encountered by the living God every week in bread and wine it is freedom. Freedom like the freedom all those people from Israel who returned to their homes from far off places. Who returned and found the soil and the animals rejoicing. Freedom because in these things we experience that God is present and active in every part of our lives. In eating, drinking, and in washing and dressing.

Christ our food. Christ our clothes. Not only for life later. But life now. As we give thanks this week, in the meals we share with family and friends. In the family and friends themselves. There God is providing for us. There God is present.

Everywhere we look we see the hand of God at work. Everywhere we look we see God’s provision abounding. In the mundane and everyday moments. Assured of God’s activity here, we are freed from anxiety and fear about what the future holds. God has promised all we already have – our selves, our time, and our possessions. Signs of God’s gracious love.

So let us give thanks. Thanks for the ways and the wonders God has shows us. Thanks for the places and the people God is providing for us. Thanks for the ways that God will provide for our every need in the future.

Don’t worry. Be Happy. Rejoice for the Lord has done great things. is doing great things. Will continue to do great things for the good of his people. for the good of you. Don’t worry. Be happy.

Let’s take these next few minutes to remember and give thanks for the ways that God sustains and provides for us.

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.

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.

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
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.

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

You can find the audio version here

Seeds of Grace

Pentecost 2B – GSLC 2009

Mark 4:26-34

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

With what can we compare the kingdom of God or what parable will we use for it?  These words of Jesus have been running through my mind this week.  A city on a hill?  A garden of paradise?  Streets of gold and rivers of life?  These are images that we can envision.  They are places of beauty and riches.  Places of might and power.  Places of splendor and awe.  Let’s compare the kingdom of God to the castle of Camelot or to the mountains of Montana.  Places we can envision God dwelling and ruling from.  What is it that you think of when you pray “Thy kingdom come?”

Jesus says that we shall compare the reign of God to a farmer scattering seed on the ground.  And then she goes to sleep. Night and day. Not doing anything to the seed.  And the earth produces of it’s own accord.  It produces automatically.  No fertilizer.  No spraying for bugs.  No watering needed.  On it’s own it the seed grows.  She does not know how.

Jesus says that we shall compare the rule of God to a mustard seed that is so tiny, yet it spreads out all over the land providing shade and shelter to the birds of the air.  Not like the great tree that Ezekiel mentions.  Not a tree whose produce is good for something.  Olive Tree, fig tree – no a mustard shrub.

I don’t know about you but I don’t immediately think of gardening.  Rachel and I planted a garden this year and we put all kinds of goodies in there – tomatos, peppers, herbs, lettuce – thinking about the harvest we will feast on throughout the summer.  And now we wait however many days for the seeds to grow and to produce whatever it is they will produce.  A bunch of plants waiting to grow? Is this really what the kingdom is like?  A bunch of waiting around?  Of going to bed at night and rising in the morning to see the small movements of growth?

The kingdom of God is more than a place.  It is more than a temple, a thrown, a  castle.  The kingdom of God is not about a place at all.  It is all about the in-breaking power of God that causes the seeds of life to grow unexpectedly and unexplainably.  It is about the sovereign rule of God spreading out throughout the world so that all birds might have a place to rest and to find safety.

It’s into this vision of God’s reign and rule that we are invited.  We are invited to cast the seed of God’s word of justice and love.  So that it might grow – that it might spread. We are good at casting the seed of the kingdom in the places that we can control – that we know are good soil.  We choose the people, the needs, the things that show promise of producing fruit.  The people and places that we know how to cultivate.  We think that the casting of seed is about us – about our abilities.  And so the kingdom begins to look at lot like us.  Like our expectations.  Like what we think the world should be.  And so we reserve the seeds of grace for safe investments.  We reserve the seeds of love for dividends that will return love.  Especially in these  unusual economic times we are skeptical of scattering seed in seedy places.  We hoard rather than scatter.  We store up rather than let the seed fall down.  We’re tired of waiting and so we make things happen of our own accord.

We point to the parable right before these today where only the seed that falls on good soil produces.  We say “we ought to be good stewards of the grace, the love, the resources God has given us” and we determine where the good soil is.  We protect the seeds of the kingdom for the times and places that are ideal for planting.  Are all people truly welcome in the pew next to us?  Do we reserve justice only for who deserve it- who have earned it?  Will we only help those who help themselves.  We so easily forget about the incarcerated and their struggle to re-enter society – we reject aid to the foreigner in our midst because they haven’t paid their due.  We surround ourselves with what we think is good soil and distance ourselves from the bad soil because it smells and we can’t see how anything can grow from it.

But these parables are not about us.  They are not about the church.  They are about God’s in-breaking rule and reign in the world.  A reign that finds it’s power in weakness – a rule that finds it’s might through serving.  So even though we refuse to let go of the seed of God’s justice mercy into the world – God scatters in spite of us.  God scatters seed in the places that we think is rocky, the places that are covered with thorns.  God plants there in the bad soil – transforming it into good soil.  Causing the kingdom of God to grow there – where we least expect.  The rocky places of our lives.  The over run thorny places of society.  The  places we’ve waited for so long for something to grow that we’ve given up hope In the places of death, first and foremost at the foot of the cross.  God scatters the seed everywhere.

Jesus is the seed that is scattered – Jesus is the seed that falls to the ground.  That produces a new thing.  A plant not like the cedars of Lebanon that so many thought would restore the kingdom of Israel to power and might.  But a plant like the mustard shrub – a weed that grows uncontrollably throughout the countryside.  A shrub that grows anywhere that it is wanted and everywhere that it is not.  Like the dandelions that pop up in our highly maintained yards – that as soon as you pick one from the ground, another has taken its place the next day.  As much as we try to manage them, they will be back next spring – bright and yellow – turning into a seed that spreads far and wide – into every crack and crevice of our gardens, yards, and fields.

The reign of God spreads like the a weed and grows with no help from us.  Christ the seed is buried in the ground and rises of its own accord – automatically – bringing forth a harvest of life.  A meal that is a foretaste of the kingdom to come.  Wheat and Grapes.  Bread and Wine.  Christ’s own Body and Blood.  This is the harvest that we truly look forward to. A feast more filling than any garden can provide.  A meal more satisfying than any gardener can grow.

In this meal we are filled with the seeds of God’s grace.  God’s reign.  God’s kingdom.  The seeds of God’s grace are planted within us – growing without our control.  Spreading throughout our spirit’s until God’s rule is everywhere.  Making our faith a harvest for the sake of the world.  As the abundance of these seeds of grace overflow in our lives we respond by continuing to cast these seeds in the world.

Cast the seed in the unlikely places – the foot of the cross, the tomb of Christ – from these places of surprisingly good soil God grows a new thing – from the places that no one in their right mind would sow any seed.  Cast the seed.  That is our calling.  Cast it everywhere you go – trusting in the promise that God will grow that seed into something that will spread throughout the earth bringing forth a beautiful harvest that will feed the world.

This is pretty close to what was preached on Sunday.

Here’s the audio if you prefer.

Undergo
Easter 6B – Good Shepherd Lutheran Church
John 15:9-17, 1 John 5:1-6

Grace and peace to you in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ.
My mother-in-law, Heidi, has the gift of creating relationships with everyone she meets. The first time I met here when Rachel and I were dating, she wrapped her arms around me and gave me a kiss on the cheek. I thought to myself, “I am so in.” Later when I told Rachel about this encounter I said, “I think you’re mom likes me.” Rachel simply responded, “She does that to everyone.” Wherever she goes, she seeks people out she’s never met before and listens to them and cares about them. And when she’s left she you feel so special and connected. And if you’ve met Heidi in one of her visits, I’m sure you know what I’m talking about.

On my better days, I can begin to strive to be like that- to lay down my life for a friend, rather trying to overcome the world. But it’s hard work. It’s not instinctual. Instinct tells us to lay the other down for us. Instinct tells us to overcome the world before the world overcomes us. Instinct tells us the best way to move forward is to push forward as hard as we can.

Last weekend my parents were here to help with our house. The project for me and my Dad was to put up a railing for our deck. Simple enough, but I am not a skilled craftsman – and it showed. As pounded in the nails, often they were a little skewed and went off at weird angles. Instead of slowing down and straightening them out, I kept pounding as hard as I could – trying to force them to straighten out. Stop bulling them Dad would say. I needed to ease up. Back up and try again, more intentional, gentle.

Bulling the nail is how I want understand ovecoming obstacles. Overcoming the world as John writes in his letter. That’s how we overcome the situations in our life’s path and the people who journey with us. And instead of creating something new, instead of being connected through a firm bond, our connections are weakened. What we create needs to be taken apart. This way of living of seeing life causes us so much blood, sweat, and tears – yet we pound away – thinking eventually it’s going to work.

As much as we toil and strain to overcome the odds, overcome illness, overcome the whatever it is that stands in your way….Jesus is the one who truly overcomes the world. Not through the “vini vidi vicci,” “the I came I saw I conquered” mentality of Caesar that through force and coercion makes thy will be done. Jesus overcomes by undergoing. He undergoes human flesh and blood. He undergoes betrayal and humiliation. Jesus undergoes torture and death. Jesus forgets about status. Jesus forgets about what’s due him. Jesus forgets about what is rightfully his and undergoes into the world.

It is through dying that Jesus overcomes. Through death, Jesus is risen. Through undergoing death, death is destroyed. Human bonds are broken. Our prayer “Thy Will Be done”is answered. And we are set free. We are called, not slaves. Not servants. But friends.Friends that Jesus has chosen in spite of our selves. Friends that Jesus will always choose. In Jesus’ undergoing death, the grave, and resurrection our relationship with the God of life is drastically changed.

Life in light of risen Christ undergoes a transformation. Through the new life of baptismal waters, through the renewal of faith in the feast of Christ’s body and blood we are changed. The parts of us that would have us live to ourselves – that would have us requiring special knowledge from others in order to receive acceptance – that would have us seeing potential servants in each other rather than friends – that would have us shy away from the hard work of Christian love find that they are overcome. One scholar writes, “the power of the gospel is discovered by being so transformed that the tough, relational work of living in community is not experiences as a burdensome duty, but as a gift of God.”

In other words, it’s being like Heidi. The relational work that the gospel calls us to is easy for her. She fully enjoys it and it energizes her. Her love for God, overflows into her love for people. Her love for people, strengthens her love for God. Her care and concern, her interest and love for people she meets models for me the vision of community that John puts forth for us. Heidi doesn’t overcome others. She undergoes to them. Making their needs, her needs, their concerns, her concerns, their joys, her joys. In Heidi I see what it means to call someone a friend and to lay down your life for them.

It is through our love for our sisters and brothers that we overcome the world. Today in welcoming those born of God into our community, in witnessing the new birth of a child, we love – we overcome division and hatred through Christ. We proclaim unity and love through the Spirit.

This victory of love in Christ, this proclamation of unity through the Spirit does not end at those doors. The support and guidance does not end after we’ve said the words and done the actions of baptism and confirmation The celebration of welcome does not end after our reception this afternoon. The gospel transforms us forever. So that every relationship – every interaction with another is a gift of God.

Changing diapers is a gift. visiting the homebound and praying for the sick is a gift. reaching out to the lonely and encouraging the despairing is a gift. caring for ailing parents is a gift. The person you greet during the peace, the person you don’t know, the person you don’t want to know – that person- the relationship you can have with them is a gift of God.

The gift does not begin with us. It begins with Jesus, who calls us friend, not servant. Not slave. not an object to be used, but a relationship to be nurtured. “I have told you this so that my joy, my grace, my gift may be in you and that your joy, your grace, your gift may be complete.” It begins with Jesus and his friends, all of them, all of us, all of those who aren’t here, all of those who can’t be here, called to eat a meal together. An agape feast. A feast of love. Of joy. Of grace. Gathered at one table, serving and being served, undergoing for one another and overcoming together. Sisters, brothers, friends – filled with grace from Christ’s own body let us go forth together striving to follow the command of God. Let us overcome the world with love.

Laying Down and Getting Up
John 10:11-18, 1 John 3:16-24 – Easter 4B (Confirmation)
Good Shepherd Lutheran Church

A little late in posting this….Audio version can be found here

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

During my summers in college I spent my time working at a Lutheran summer camp called Camp Mowana. My first summer after freshman year, I became a counselor was the timid and shy one of the staff (Rachel finds this hard to believe). But by the end of the summer, I had a more confidence in myself and began to take on some leadership. That summer at camp I also heard my call to ministry more clearly than I ever had before. In short, it was an amazing summer making strong friendships, growing in faith, and connecting with God in the beauty of God’s serene creation. So, when I went back the next summer, I had reason to believe it would be just as powerful, just as moving, just as monumental as the previous summer.

But when I returned, it didn’t feel the same. This was the place, after all, where I had such mountain top experiences with the Spirit as a camper and as a counselor. I waited all year to return to this place and now I thought the waiting was over, but it had just begun. I remember during the first few weeks of staff training I would lay restless in my bunk – wondering when God would show up. Those restless nights led me to the pond field at midnight to pray “I’m here God, where are you?” Night after night I grew frustrated and weary of waiting. I could tell it was having an effect on my energy. But over the course of those first few weeks, the staff, my fellow friends, saw my struggle, my weariness and they supported me. They encouraged me. They went out of their way to hold me up when I felt so low. It took a while for me to realize it, but my prayer was being answered. It wasn’t in the way that I had expected. It wasn’t through the mountain top experience that I wanted. It was through friends, sisters and brothers in Christ laying down their lives in simple, yet profound ways, in order to get me up.

So often we expect God to appear in blinding lights with angelic choirs or to rumble the depths of our being in order to get our attention. The voice of the Shepherd that calls out to us may in fact sometimes come in those encounters with the Spirit that are overwhelming and inexplicable. What happens more often than not is that God’s presence comes to us daily not in those momentous ways, but through our community, our friendships, our dwelling within the one flock of the Good Shepherd to which all belong.

Like I did that second summer at camp, we often look past those relationships. We want a metaphysical realignment of our lives. Something that changes us at the core of our being. This is what we’re sold every day. Take this pill and you will experience life in new and amazing ways. Buy this product and you can live life to the fullest. One that I find myself falling into – redecorate your home (or buy your first or dream home) so you finally have a place to call home.

John’s first letter addresses, as Pastor Al shared last week, a different kind of theology called Gnosticism. Basically the body is bad and the spirit is good. It’s a dualism that essentially removes us from the present life that we live and looking forward to a spiritual life. It’s what keeps us falling for the voice of the hired hands that don’t truly care for us. They are only around to make a few dollars at our expense and are willing to run away at any hint of danger. It may be the promise of a classmate to be liked or cool if only we act a certain way or do something that we really don’t want to do. Ironically, we follow after the earthly things that have no spirit to them, and miss the Spirit abiding in our brothers and sisters so close to us.

So often, we find ourselves lost sheep not in green pastures but in threatening valleys. Unable to find our way back. Unable to climb the steep walls that we’ve fallen between. Unable to follow the voice of the Good Shepherd because we’ve fallen so far. Because we’ve followed the wrong voices. Because we’re helpless. Because over and over again we find ourselves looking up to the skies say “God where are you?” and have missed him.

God shows us love first and foremost through a person. Through Jesus – a human being – who had deep meaningful relationships. It was the relationships of love that transformed people not the glory of the transfiguration – which was only showed to a few. God’s love is shown in this Jesus laying down his life for the sake of all people. For God so loved the world. God sends his Son to dwell alongside us, to abide us with us, to live among us. To care for us as a Good Shepherd. Knowing each one of us intimately. Calling us each by name as children in our baptism and each and every other day.

Confirmands – in a bit you will come forward to affirm your faith – to respond to God’s voice that began speaking at your baptism. Today is a big day – there is a lot of anticipation surrounding what these moments will be like. I hope that the image that stays in your mind for years to come is that of those who have supported you over the years – who have laid down their lives so that you would get up and come to worship – some of you at 8am, who have laid down their lives so that you have the strength to get up and stand before the congregation today – who have laid down their lives so that you can get up confident of God’s love for you – those people surrounding you and laying their hands on you whether it’s two or twenty.

They don’t do this on their own. They do it in response to the Spirit of God that abides within them. This is the life of the Good Shepherd’s flock to which all sheep are a part. To love one another as we have been loved by God. To lay down and lift each other up.

When I was installed here at Good Shepherd, local clergy gathered around me and laid their hands upon me – while they pressed down in support, I felt the Spirit of God lift me up. It was through them and you, brothers and sisters in Christ, fellow sheep of the flock, that I encountered God.

As I hear your stories, it is through individuals laying down their lies for you that you have encountered God in your lives. It is their and our response to the call of the Good Shepherd. Today as our 9th graders affirm their faith – as they say “yes” to God’s ultimate “yes” of baptism, they promise, with the help of God, to strive for peace and justice in the world. Through you, God has been and will be working in the world. Through your laying down of your lives in mission trips, in prayer, in service to this congregation and community, God is revealed. Through you God calls out to all sheep – bringing them into the one fold, with one true shepherd, the Good Shepherd. The Shepherd’s Spirit abides in me, in you, in each of us. May that spirit be stirred up and our lives laid out for the sake of the world.