Learning to Follow: The Third Pig

“Do not judge, so that you may not be judged. For with the judgment you make you will be judged, and the measure you give will be the measure you get. Why do you see the speck in your neighbor’s eye, but do not notice the log in your own eye? Or how can you say to your neighbor, ‘Let me take the speck out of your eye,’ while the log is in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take the speck out of your neighbor’s eye.

“Do not give what is holy to dogs; and do not throw your pearls before swine, or they will trample them under foot and turn and maul you.

“Ask, and it will be given you; search, and you will find; knock, and the door will be opened for you. For everyone who asks receives, and everyone who searches finds, and for everyone who knocks, the door will be opened. Is there anyone among you who, if your child asks for bread, will give a stone? Or if the child asks for a fish, will give a snake? If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good things to those who ask him!

“In everything do to others as you would have them do to you; for this is the law and the prophets.

“Enter through the narrow gate; for the gate is wide and the road is easy that leads to destruction, and there are many who take it. For the gate is narrow and the road is hard that leads to life, and there are few who find it. 

“Everyone then who hears these words of mine and acts on them will be like a wise man who built his house on rock. The rain fell, the floods came, and the winds blew and beat on that house, but it did not fall, because it had been founded on rock. And everyone who hears these words of mine and does not act on them will be like a foolish man who built his house on sand. The rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew and beat against that house, and it fell—and great was its fall!”

Now when Jesus had finished saying these things, the crowds were astounded at his teaching, for he taught them as one having authority, and not as their scribes.  Matthew 7:1-14, 24-29 (NRSV)


Grace and peace to you from God, our Creator; Christ, our Redeemer, and the Holy Spirit, our Sustainer. Amen.

It happened when I was in fifth grade. We got a new student in class. A new girl, named Audrey. Now, in most schools that’s probably not a very big deal. But, in a small town, where everyone knows everyone else, like my hometown, this didn’t happen very often.

Audrey and I disliked each other from the start. Has that ever happened to you? Whether it’s a personality thing or whatever it is, we rubbed each the wrong way from the very beginning. To make matters worse, not only did we have to spend the entire school day in the same room with each other, but, we also rode the same bus to and from school each day.

Our dislike for each other escalated throughout the first two weeks of school, reaching a climax one day in the girls’ bathroom, which was located right beside our fifth grade classroom. Audrey and I got into a shouting match over something. (I have no memory of how it started.) We grew more and more angry with each other, until, at one point, Audrey reached up her hand and slapped me across the face.

I was completely stunned. But, that didn’t stop me from reacting. I reached up my hand, then, and slapped her across the face. By this point, our teacher, Mrs. Daczewitz, had heard the shouts coming from the bathroom and she rushed in. 

Now, Mrs. Daczewitz was a very experienced teacher. By the time I reached her classroom, she had taught in our elementary school for well over 35 years. She knew that she could punish us for our behavior, which was pretty inexcusable.  But, I think, she knew that punishment wouldn’t necessarily solve the conflict between Audrey and I. So, as a consequence for our poor behavior, she mandated that, for a week beginning with the time Audrey and I got on the bus in the morning to the time we got off the bus in the afternoon, we had to spend every moment with each other. Every. Single. Moment.

You see, Mrs. Daczewitz was not only an experienced teacher, but she was also very wise. She knew that most often the things we dislike in others are the things we dislike about ourselves. So, when we meet someone who has the same qualities that we dislike in ourselves, it’s like looking in a mirror. And we don’t like it.

This week’s lesson from Matthew, chapter 7, is the last of our three lessons from the famous teaching of Jesus we call the "Sermon on the Mount." If you recall, we spent the first week talking about what God’s reign looks like. About who are the priority in God’s kingdom. And about how this reign is completely reversed from the world’s priority.

Then, last week, we talked about relationships. That God’s reign is built on relationships and, first, that it begins with our relationship with God. A relationship that is constructed on spiritual disciplines, with the most important one being that of prayer. Of talking with God. Of seeking God out. In our own, often simple words. And of listening for God.

This week, we continue that theme of relationship. Of how important relationship is in God’s reign. Particularly, today, our relationship with others. You see, God’s kingdom is made up of both vertical and horizontal relationship. Vertical - meaning our back and forth relationship with God. And horizontal. Meaning our back and forth relationship with others. 

In the first part of today’s reading, the focus is on our own self-deception. We deceive ourselves by believing that we are better than others. It’s the same kind of self-deception Audrey and I were engaged with in our own little spat. 

In the opening words of the reading, Jesus says, “Do not judge.” Warren Carter, a New Testament professor at Brite Divinity School has studied and written extensively on Matthew. He suggests that this common translation is neither accurate, nor helpful. Because, as he writes, we have to make judgments every day in our lives. We would be in trouble if we did not make judgment or discernment about various people, situations, and actions. So, when Jesus says, “Do not judge” - this is an impossible ethic for us.  In addition, in previous chapters, Jesus himself has judged things: synagogue practices, Gentile prayer, and lives that are focused on material goods. 

Carter suggests that a better translation is to use the word “condemn.” That, instead of the phrase being translated as “do not judge,” it is better translated, “do not go on condemning to hell.” It is meant to address various situations that involve other people - situations in which we have a tendency to write off others as beyond redemption. As outside of God’s grace. As people who should be confined to hell. People with whom we are in conflict. Or intolerant of because of differences, or prejudice, or disgust, or anger, and the like. Jesus’ command in this first verse forbids the arrogance of denying someone mercy. Particularly, of declaring that someone is beyond God’s mercy.

It’s easy to deceive ourselves about others with whom we are in conflict. To think we need to pluck out the splinter in someone else’s eye, when, as our text says, we have a log in our own. 

"Do unto others as we would have others do unto you," our text tells us. "Love your neighbor as yourself," Jesus will say later on in Matthew. The Golden Rule. How much do we hear this espoused in today’s world? So much that it has become an ethic to live by that is completely disconnected from its context here in the Word. Because, this Rule provides a vision of discipleship that is shaped by God’s grace in commissioning Jesus to show and to be the example of God’s saving presence. This Golden Rule cannot be disconnected from the life of Jesus. And from Jesus’ death. It is a rule that was initiated with God’s movement downward. To us. And for us. Freeing us from the guilt and shame of our sin and failure. Thereby, freeing us to love without abandon our neighbor as our self.


And then we come to pigs. You’re probably wondering what’s going on today with me and pigs. It started with this Valentine gram that came in the mail from ELCA World Hunger. “Hogs ‘n kisses.” More on that later. After this, then, it seemed that every time I turned around, I was being bombarded by pigs. Today’s reading talks about swine. This past Tuesday was the beginning of the Chinese New Year. Yep, you guessed it. It’s the Year of the Pig. Pigs all over the place. And, then, I got to the last verses of our text. The comparison of the wise builder and the foolish builder. The wise builder who builds his or her house on rock. Compared to the foolish builder, who builds on sand. So, of course, what should come to mind, but the story of “The Three Little Pigs!”

I have to admit, I had to look it up. Because, it’s been a long time since I read it. Can you help me tell the story?

It’s a story about three little pigs who decide to seek their fortune and build their houses. The first little pig built his house of...straw. The second built his house of...sticks. The third pig decided to build his house of...bricks, because he wanted to make sure his was a very strong house. When all three were finished, they were very happy.

Then, along came the wolf. He went to the first house - the one made of straw - and he huffed and he puffed and he blew the house down. Then, he went to the second house - the one made of sticks. And, again, he huffed and he puffed and he blew the house down. The wolf went to the third house - the one made of bricks. And he huffed and he puffed. And he huffed and he puffed. And he huffed and he puffed. But, he could not blow the third house down.

The moral of the story? Be like the third pig. Ground your lives in the kingdom of God, the great reversal, that is here and now, and eternal. Ground your lives in Jesus’ teachings in the Sermon on the Mount, that you may have lives of deep relationship with God. And with others. But, mostly, ground your lives in God, who is our very Rock and our Salvation, and upon whom our lives of faith should be built. Amen.

Preached February 10, 2019, at Grace & Glory Lutheran Church, Goshen, KY.
Epiphany 5.
Readings: Matthew 7:1-14, 24-29, Psalm 37:16-18.

God's Promise of Jesus: Being Made New

In those days John the Baptist appeared in the wilderness of Judea, proclaiming, “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near.” This is the one of whom the prophet Isaiah spoke when he said,

“The voice of one crying out in the wilderness:

‘Prepare the way of the Lord,

    make his paths straight.’”

Now John wore clothing of camel’s hair with a leather belt around his waist, and his food was locusts and wild honey. Then the people of Jerusalem and all Judea were going out to him, and all the region along the Jordan, and they were baptized by him in the river Jordan, confessing their sins.

But when he saw many Pharisees and Sadducees coming for baptism, he said to them, “You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the wrath to come? Bear fruit worthy of repentance. Do not presume to say to yourselves, ‘We have Abraham as our ancestor’; for I tell you, God is able from these stones to raise up children to Abraham. Even now the ax is lying at the root of the trees; every tree therefore that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire.

“I baptize you with water for repentance, but one who is more powerful than I is coming after me; I am not worthy to carry his sandals. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire. His winnowing fork is in his hand, and he will clear his threshing floor and will gather his wheat into the granary; but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire.”

Then Jesus came from Galilee to John at the Jordan, to be baptized by him. John would have prevented him, saying, “I need to be baptized by you, and do you come to me?” But Jesus answered him, “Let it be so now; for it is proper for us in this way to fulfill all righteousness.” Then he consented. And when Jesus had been baptized, just as he came up from the water, suddenly the heavens were opened to him and he saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove and alighting on him. And a voice from heaven said, “This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased.” Matthew 3:1-17 (NRSV)

Grace and peace to you from the Triune God: Creator, Redeemer and Sustainer. Amen.

I’ve been doing a lot of thinking this week about water. As I was thinking about our worship on this day known as the Baptism of Our Lord, my mind began to wander as I was thinking about water.

When you think of water, what comes to mind for you? There are a few things for me. One of them is a memory from my childhood, when I was about seven years old. My dad loved to fish. So, on weekends, when the farm work was finished for the week, we’d travel as family to one of two rivers nearby. If we went an hour or so east, we’d run into the Missouri River - a river that was particularly known for its walleye. If we went a little northwest, we’d come to the Grand River. This was a muddier river and, because of it, was known for its catfish.

It was on one of these fishing trips that we were accompanied by two of my great uncles - Philip and John.

Now, I’m sure you can’t imagine this, but I was kind of a little brat growing up. I was the youngest, a little spoiled, and was kind of sneaky. On this particular fishing trip, I was in pretty rare form. As my dad and my two great uncles stood on the riverbank, casting for catfish, I decided it was my job that day to pester the heck out of them. I decided I would sneak up behind them and pour a small bucket of water on each of them.

Well, this only lasted a few times before my great uncles had had enough of me. The next time I began to sneak up on one of them, they were fully prepared. My Uncle John grabbed me. Then, my Uncle Philip grabbed me. They picked me up, one holding me under my arms and the other holding my feet. They started to swing me back and forth and, then, on the count of three, they promptly threw me in the river.

Now, fortunately, the Grand River was a pretty shallow river. It was more like a creek. And I knew how to swim, so there really wasn’t any danger involved. But, it is an experience I have never forgotten. The water was cold. I was fully clothed and got soaking wet. And I spent the rest of the day, somewhat uncomfortable in my damp clothing. (It was still worth it, though!)

For us, as children, water was something that fun to play in, especially during the warm days of summer. But, for my father, who was a rancher and a farmer, water meant a lot more. We lived in an area that didn’t have irrigation, so the feed crops my father grew were completely reliant upon the weather. 

Water was critical for our animals. There were many times that my father would have to go down to our creek in the winter and break through the ice so that they were able to drink. In the summer, he or my brother were constantly repairing the windmills that pumped water from the ground into big tanks for our livestock to drink. Our family’s livelihood was critically dependent upon water.

In our more urbanized lifestyle today, we rarely have to think about water or its availability. We just turn on the shower and it’s there. Or open the refrigerator door and grab a bottle to drink. And, here, in Louisville, where, last year, we experienced the wettest one on record, we’re almost mindless in how we use water. 

Today’s story is set near water. The Jordan River. It’s where our story opens as we introduced to John the Baptist. Some 30 years has passed between our story last week about Herod and the flight of Joseph and his family to Egypt to escape. Matthew describes him as a voice crying out of the wilderness. He occupies a place on the margins. On the margin of Jerusalem. On the margin of this center of power - this city that is the cultural, religious and political center of Judah. And, yet, even though he is on the margins, John’s ministry draws people out from the city and from the surrounding areas.  Large crowds, our text tells us. So large that John is referenced in all four of the Gospels. And even by Josephus, a Jewish historian from the time. 

Our story today tells us that these large crowds included Pharisees and Sadducees, two groups in opposition to each other in Jerusalem. Each fighting for power in Jerusalem. It’s no wonder that John calls them “You brood of vipers.” It's the start of a conflict that begins with John and, as we move through our Matthew text, we’ll see that it continues with Jesus. Our story also begins to show us a difference in the ministries of John and Jesus. John, who’s ministry is removed from the central location of the powerful elite. Jesus, who’s ministry begins on the margins, but will move into the centers of power, bringing challenge and conflict.

There is one thing, though, in today’s story the connects everything. It is the water. Or, more specifically, the water of baptism. 


Last September, we began our lectionary cycle with the story of Noah and the great flood. This is often called the second creation story. God’s reboot of creation. When water was used to cleanse a world that had become so very evil. A way for God to start over with a human creation to whom God had given free will. A human creation that, even after the flood, consistently seemed to separate itself from God and seek power for itself. 

How interesting it is that God then uses this same, simple element of water and with God’s Word claims us as God’s own. In baptism. Where, with the water and the Word, we are washed clean through the power of Christ’s cleansing death. Claimed, just as Jesus was claimed, as God’s beloved ones. God’s own. In whom God finds happiness. This is the power of our baptism. The power of the water with God’s Word. As Luther writes, “Baptism is an external sign...which so separates us from the world [so that]...now baptized we are thereby known as a people of Christ.” 

He speaks of the threefold aspects of our baptisms: the sign, its significance, and of faith. That the sign consists of the physical thrusting into water in the name of the Triune God--Father, Son and Holy Spirit. But, particularly, that we are not left there, but are drawn out again. He uses a German expression: aus der Taufe gehoben, which means that we are "lifted up" out of the baptismal water. 

This is the second aspect of our baptisms, then. The significance of our baptisms. That it is a dying to sin and resurrection in God’s grace. Where our old person - our old sinful person - is drowned. And a new person, born in grace, comes forth and arises. It is a washing of regeneration. A being made new. This significance, though, Luther writes, is not completely fulfilled in this life. Our spiritual baptisms, the complete drowning of sin, last as long as we live and are completed only in death. We give ourselves up to the sacrament of baptism, claiming our desire to die, together with our sins, and to be made new. God accepts this desire and grants us baptism. And, from that hour, begins to make us new people, by pouring into us God’s grace through the Holy Spirit. 

That, then, leads us to the third aspect of baptism: faith. Faith means that we firmly believe all of this. That we believe that, with our baptism, we have entered into a covenant with God to fight against sin and to slay it, while God promises to be merciful to us, to deal graciously with us, and to not judge us with severity. Luther writes that this faith is the most necessary aspect because it is the ground of our comfort. Philip Britts, who was a British writer and poet, pastor and naturalist from 70 years go, writes that “Faith is like water at the roots...If we have faith, we can face the sun, we can turn the heat and the light into life-giving fruits, into love...Faith is a gift like the rain and, like the rain, it is something to be watched for and prayed for and waited for.” 

This is baptism, then. Christ the water, incarnating God’s water of creation, flowing continuously in the Spirit, who waters the believers, who, then, themselves, become the spring of living water in the world.

In the water of baptism, with God’s Word, we are made new. So walk wet. Remember your baptism. Remember that God has created you for God’s purposes. It is God and not sin that holds a claim on your life. 

In your bulletin, you have a small piece of paper. I invite you now to reflect upon an area of your life that requires renewal, repentance, or a new beginning. Pray about this in silent confession. Write or draw something on your paper to symbolize it. And, then, when you are ready, come to the font and submerge your paper in the water and watch it dissolve. And give thanks to God for the chance to begin again. To, once again, be made new. Amen.

Preached January 13, 2019, at Grace & Glory Lutheran Church, Goshen, KY.
Epiphany 1
Readings: Matthew 3:1-17, Psalm 2:7-8

Faith in God's Promises: Unexpected Plans

Now the birth of Jesus the Messiah took place in this way. When his mother Mary had been engaged to Joseph, but before they lived together, she was found to be with child from the Holy Spirit. Her husband Joseph, being a righteous man and unwilling to expose her to public disgrace, planned to dismiss her quietly. But just when he had resolved to do this, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, “Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary as your wife, for the child conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. She will bear a son, and you are to name him Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins.” All this took place to fulfill what had been spoken by the Lord through the prophet:

“Look, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son,
    and they shall name him Emmanuel,”

which means, “God is with us.” When Joseph awoke from sleep, he did as the angel of the Lord commanded him; he took her as his wife, but had no marital relations with her until she had borne a son; and he named him Jesus. Matthew 1:18-25 (NRSV)

Grace and peace to you from the Triune God - Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.

We began today talking about trust. With a couple of you, I tested your trust in me. Your faith in me. Whether I would drop you. Or not. Our reading today about Joseph is also about trust. About who or what he should believe. And why.

There are a lot of legends in our world today, aren’t there? Legends that many people think are true. We’ll call them urban legends. Here’s an example. If you swallow your chewing gum it will take seven years to digest. Do you think that’s true? Or false? It's false.

Here’s another. One that’s especially appropriate for December. Most of our body heat is lost through our heads. True or false? True for infants, but false for everyone else.

One more. This one is about Coca Cola. We’ve all heard about how if you pour Coke onto a car battery it will wash away corrosion. Did you know that, if you put a tooth in a glass of Coke overnight, it will dissolve by morning? Do you think that’s true or false? It’s false.

How do you know what to believe or who to believe? Any ideas?

Most often, we believe in the people we trust. Perhaps we trust them because we know them well - we’ve been in a long relationship with them. Perhaps we trust them because of their knowledge. Or their education. Or their role. Or, perhaps, we trust them because their word is reliable. They do what they say they will do. Whatever the reason, trust usually happens as a result of our experience with people.

Today is the fourth Sunday of Advent. We’ve been waiting for a few weeks now. Thinking, as we wait, about courage and hope and justice. Today, we make a transition. Not only is this the last Sunday of Advent, but in our lectionary we now move out of the Hebrew scriptures and into the New Testament. Into the gospel of Matthew.

Scholars believe that Matthew was written near the end of the first century, some 40-50 years after Jesus’ ministry. The author of Matthew was writing to a mostly Jewish audience after the fall of the Second Temple in 70 CE. God’s very home on earth had been destroyed. The city that had been the place of God’s presence had been overwhelmed by Romans. Thousands of friends and relatives of Matthew’s readers had been brutally killed. Hundreds of them by crucifixion on crosses. The world and the future did not look good for the Jews or even for the small, yet growing Jesus movement. 

Does this feel like a deja vu moment? After all, isn’t this nearly the same story as those we’ve been hearing about for weeks in our Old Testament readings. About Israel’s capture by the Assyrians. Then, the capture of Judah by the Babylonians. And with it the destruction of the First Temple. And the exile of the Jewish people. The diaspora - the dispersion of God’s people into exile away from the land that God had given to them. 

So, it’s no accident that in our reading today - in these opening verses of Matthew - that we hear the writer’s reminder of a prophecy for his audience. A prophecy from Isaiah. About a virgin (although the original Hebrew speaks of a young woman). About a girl who is pregnant. Not Mary! But, a girl who would have a child whom she would name Immanuel. Immanuel. Which means “God is with us.” In this prophecy, given at a time when Judah was under attack, Isaiah promised that by the time this child was old enough to know the difference between right and wrong, the cities of the kings who were threatening Judah would be in complete ruin. And Judah would be safe. Because God was with them.

The author of Matthew is using Isaiah’s ancient prophecy to remind his audience nearly 800 years later that God was with them, too.

But, let’s turn to the time of our story. About Joseph. And Mary. And the birth of Jesus, the Messiah. Our story begins by telling us that Mary and Joseph were engaged. Now engagement, or betrothal, in ancient times was much different that it is today. When two people became engaged, it was a formal step. A formal agreement between two families. A point at which gifts were exchanged. Between the families. And between the bride and groom to be. During the time of engagement, which usually lasted an entire year, a man and woman were looked upon as fully committed to each other. It was so binding, in fact, that to break an engagement required a bill of divorce. If a spouse died during the betrothal period, he or she was considered a widow or widower, just as if they had been fully married.

So, when Joseph heard that Mary was pregnant, he was likely very hurt. And very upset. And publicly humiliated. Because he knew that the child was not his. And our story tells us that Joseph was a “righteous” man. This meant that he was right-living. That he carefully abided by Jewish law. That, in a circumstance like this with Mary being pregnant, a strict interpretation of Jewish law required that he report her to the authorities. That she be publicly shamed and humiliated. And, even, that she could be stoned to death. As a righteous man, Joseph knew this.

And, yet, Joseph knew that he should also err on the side of love. And so, his plan was to break the engagement quietly, so that she would not be subject to public humiliation and, especially, that she would be safe.

How devastating all of this must have been for Joseph!

And, then, God breaks in. Sending a messenger - an angel to tell Joseph that this is no ordinary child. But, that this child is the Messiah. The Messiah promised to the people. A child from the Holy Spirit. And that Joseph should take Mary as his wife, meaning moving in together, shifting their relationship from engagement to marriage. And that, when the child was born, Joseph would be the one to name him. A right that ensured his position as the baby’s legal father. And  also that Jesus was not only Son of God, but also Son of Man. Jesus. Immanuel. God with us. Savior of God’s people from their sin.

Do you hear the complexity in this story? The many layers that are woven into this opening narrative from Matthew? Do you hear the truth of this story? That God is with us. Whether it is with Judah under siege in ancient times. Whether it is with Joseph in the midst of his confusion and humiliation. Whether it is with the audience of Matthew’s Gospel as they are being persecuted by the Roman empire. Whether it is with us in our lives today, whether we are beside still waters or on right paths. Or whether we are walking through the darkest valley. Do you hear the profound message in this Matthew text? The true story that is woven into these words?


That God is trustworthy. That God keeps God’s promises. That God is with us. Yesterday, today, and forever. May we hold this as truth in our own lives. Amen.

Preached December 23, 2018, at Grace & Glory Lutheran Church, Goshen, KY
Advent 4
Readings: Matthew 1:18-25; Psalm 23:1-4