Living in the Covenant: Solomon's Wisdom

Last week, we heard the story of David and his sin against Bathsheba, her husband, Uriah, and, particularly, about David’s sin before God. We heard him confronted in his sin by the Prophet Nathan. His repentance. And God’s forgiveness.

Yet, as I also mentioned, forgiveness does not always mean escaping the consequences of one’s sin. The dysfunctional aspects of David’s actions led to the death of that first child he had with Bathseba, the sexual assault of a daughter by one of his own sons, the murder of that son by another, and a third son who attempted to overthrow David and who lost his own life in the process. 

Today’s reading is about King Solomon. He was the second son of David and Bathsheba. He was not David’s oldest son so, according to tradition, should never have become king. But, unlike last week, when we saw Bathsheba with no agency, by the time a successor to David must be named, she claims her agency to ensure that the line of succession will be turned upside down. And that her son - Solomon - will ascend to the throne. After a great deal of political turmoil, Solomon has taken the reigns of the kingdom - most likely as a teenager. It is here where the reading begins.

The king went to the great shrine at Gibeon in order to sacrifice there. He used to offer a thousand entirely burned offerings on that altar. The Lord appeared to Solomon at Gibeon in a dream at night. God said, “Ask whatever you wish, and I’ll give it to you.”

Solomon responded, “You showed so much kindness to your servant my father David when he walked before you in truth, righteousness, and with a heart true to you. You’ve kept this great loyalty and kindness for him and have now given him a son to sit on his throne. And now, Lord my God, you have made me, your servant, king in my father David’s place. But I’m young and inexperienced. I know next to nothing. But I’m here, your servant, in the middle of the people you have chosen, a large population that can’t be numbered or counted due to its vast size. Please give your servant a discerning mind in order to govern your people and to distinguish good from evil, because no one is able to govern this important people of yours without your help.”

It pleased the Lord that Solomon had made this request. God said to him, “Because you have asked for this instead of requesting long life, wealth, or victory over your enemies—asking for discernment so as to acquire good judgment— I will now do just what you said. Look, I hereby give you a wise and understanding mind. There has been no one like you before now, nor will there be anyone like you afterward. I now also give you what you didn’t ask for: wealth and fame. There won’t be a king like you as long as you live. And if you walk in my ways and obey my laws and commands, just as your father David did, then I will give you a very long life.”

Solomon awoke and realized it was a dream. He went to Jerusalem and stood before the chest containing the Lord’s covenant. Then he offered entirely burned offerings and well-being sacrifices, and held a celebration for all his servants.

Sometime later, two prostitutes came and stood before the king. One of them said, “Please, Your Majesty, listen: This woman and I have been living in the same house. I gave birth while she was there. This woman gave birth three days after I did. We stayed together. Apart from the two of us, there was no one else in the house. This woman’s son died one night when she rolled over him. She got up in the middle of the night and took my son from my side while I was asleep. She laid him on her chest and laid her dead son on mine. When I got up in the morning to nurse my son, he was dead! But when I looked more closely in the daylight, it turned out that it wasn’t my son—not the baby I had birthed.”

The other woman said, “No! My son is alive! Your son is the dead one.”

But the first woman objected, “No! Your son is dead! My son is alive!” In this way they argued back and forth in front of the king.

The king said, “This one says, ‘My son is alive and your son is dead.’ The other one says, ‘No! Your son is dead and my son is alive.’ Get me a sword!” They brought a sword to the king. Then the king said, “Cut the living child in two! Give half to one woman and half to the other woman.”

Then the woman whose son was still alive said to the king, “Please, Your Majesty, give her the living child; please don’t kill him,” for she had great love for her son.

But the other woman said, “If I can’t have him, neither will you. Cut the child in half.”

Then the king answered, “Give the first woman the living newborn. Don’t kill him. She is his mother.”

All Israel heard about the judgment that the king made. Their respect for the king grew because they saw that God’s wisdom was in him so he could execute justice. (1 Kings 3:4-28 CEB)

Grace, mercy, and peace to you through God our Father and through our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. Amen.

Imagine if Aladdin appeared here today right in our midst. You are offered three wishes. What are your wishes?

There are many tales throughout history of some supernatural power that offers someone a wish. Or two. Or three. I’m a child of the 70’s - remember “I Dream Of Jeannie? Of course, there is also Aladdin, who I just mentioned. Can you think of any others?

Then there's the story about the married couple? Both of them were 60 years old and celebrating their 35th wedding anniversary. During their party, they were given a gift. They opened it and found a lamp. Out popped a genie who congratulated them on their anniversary, then offered each of them one wish. The wife wanted to travel around the world. Poof! Into her hand popped tickets for a world cruise. Then, the genie turned to her husband to ask what he wanted. His response? “I wish I had a wife 30 years younger than me.” The genie picked up his wand and “poof!” The husband was immediately 90 years old. (Sometimes we need to be very careful for what we wish!)

Now God isn’t a magic genie or a magic piggy bank - even though we might like to think so. But, in today’s story, God comes to Solomon - this teenage king - and actually says, “Ask for anything you want. And I’ll give it to you.” I wonder if I, as a teenager, would have had the presence of mind to ask for what Solomon did - a “discerning mind.” More literally in Hebrew - a “listening heart.” 

In Hebrew, the heart was not the place of feelings or emotions, as we think today. But the center of understanding and will. It’s the heart that determines what our spiritual direction will be. It’s also the heart where God influences and determines who we will be. So, to ask for a “listening heart,” Solomon is asking for unity between himself and God. And that this unity would influence his own reign as king.

It was a pretty impressive request, coming from one so young. God was pleased by it. And, in addition to giving Solomon that “listening heart” God also gave him other things - things Solomon didn’t ask for. Wealth. Fame. And a promise that, if Solomon would continue in God’s ways, he would life a long life, just like his father, David.

Then, in the second half of today’s story, this listening heart is immediately put to the test with the story of the two sex workers.

It’s important for us to understand that, being a sex worker or a prostitute in ancient Israel did not carry with it the same moral judgment then as it does today. It likely meant that both of these women were widowed, with no family and, thus, no means of support other than prostitution. They lived together. Each with a baby.

We might wonder why Solomon’s first test concerns women, especially women who were single parents and sex workers. Perhaps it’s because, at least for God, justice belongs as much with the wealthy and the powerful as it does with the least in our society. And it is a wise leader who will work to ensure that everyone - rich or poor, powerful or powerless - that everyone experiences justice.

Very soon, we will be casting our votes in an election. If one measure of justice in a society is the well-being of the most vulnerable, might this be something for us to consider as we go about the business of electing leaders? Who is the best choice on the ballot for a leader that will work to ensure that everyone experiences justice? Who should we vote for - the leader that protects only our interests? Or the leader with wisdom who protects the interests of everyone, who works to ensure that social and economic inequities will be addressed and that no one will be ignored? 

Or as one theologian writes, “Wisdom arrives when the soul discerns its destiny, when life aligns in sync with the soul. Wisdom pleases the Lord when it is not self serving, but other serving.” 

Solomon will make many mistakes in his reign. Yet, he is given the gift of wisdom - a discernment that allows his soul to be in sync with God. But he is not the only one in our story with wisdom. So, too, is the heart of the true mother of the child. And, isn't she, perhaps, the real hero of this story? That she, for the sake of her son, is willing to give up her life with him? This is the same Wisdom - the same, self-sacrificing love - that we experience from God through Christ Jesus. Who came to us, to be with us, to serve us - that we, too, might live lives of service, especially to those most in need.

This year, as we go to the ballot box, may this, like Solomon, be our wish, too - that our hearts might be fully in sync with God. And our actions, as well. May God grant it, through Christ Jesus. Amen.

Preached October 30, 2022, at Grace & Glory, Prospect, with Third, Louisville.

Reformation Sunday

Reading: 1 Kings 3:4-28

Called by God: Disrupting the Church

Now King Hiram of Tyre sent his servants to Solomon, when he heard that they had anointed him king in place of his father; for Hiram had always been a friend to David. Solomon sent word to Hiram, saying, “You know that my father David could not build a house for the name of the Lord his God because of the warfare with which his enemies surrounded him, until the Lord put them under the soles of his feet. But now the Lord my God has given me rest on every side; there is neither adversary nor misfortune. So I intend to build a house for the name of the Lord my God, as the Lord said to my father David, ‘Your son, whom I will set on your throne in your place, shall build the house for my name.’

Then Solomon assembled the elders of Israel and all the heads of the tribes, the leaders of the ancestral houses of the Israelites, before King Solomon in Jerusalem, to bring up the ark of the covenant of the Lord out of the city of David, which is Zion. All the people of Israel assembled to King Solomon at the festival in the month Ethanim, which is the seventh month. And all the elders of Israel came, and the priests carried the ark. So they brought up the ark of the Lord, the tent of meeting, and all the holy vessels that were in the tent; the priests and the Levites brought them up. King Solomon and all the congregation of Israel, who had assembled before him, were with him before the ark, sacrificing so many sheep and oxen that they could not be counted or numbered. Then the priests brought the ark of the covenant of the Lord to its place, in the inner sanctuary of the house, in the most holy place, underneath the wings of the cherubim. For the cherubim spread out their wings over the place of the ark, so that the cherubim made a covering above the ark and its poles. The poles were so long that the ends of the poles were seen from the holy place in front of the inner sanctuary; but they could not be seen from outside; they are there to this day. There was nothing in the ark except the two tablets of stone that Moses had placed there at Horeb, where the Lord made a covenant with the Israelites, when they came out of the land of Egypt. And when the priests came out of the holy place, a cloud filled the house of the Lord, so that the priests could not stand to minister because of the cloud; for the glory of the Lord filled the house of the Lord.

Then Solomon said,

    “The Lord has said that he would dwell in thick darkness.
    I have built you an exalted house,
        a place for you to dwell in forever.” --1 Kings 5:1-5, 8:1-13 (NRSV)

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

I should have known. I should have known when I received the syllabus for my class at Pittsburgh Seminary last week that it would be a week of disruption. After all, the class entitled Death and Resurrection: Risk as a Faithful Practice of the Church.

As I looked through the syllabus and the plan for each day of the week, my anxiety increased. Each day was in a different location. Each day provided a different and disruptive experience. Each day was an opportunity to see the Church at work in some of the most challenging parts of the city. Each day de-centered whiteness, featuring only the voices of people of color.

But, honestly, it was the plan for the very first day that scared me the most. That felt as though it would be the most disruptive. The plan was that our cohort would participate in a challenging ropes course, 30 feet above the ground.

Now, let’s be honest. I’m not in the best physical shape. And, for my entire life, balance has been an issue for me. Not to mention the vertigo and disequilibrium I experience on a near daily basis. So, the idea that I would be 30 feet above ground, trying to maneuver across high wires, swinging rope ladders, and other ridiculous challenges, terrified me.

So, after we arrived and were dressed in our harnesses, I felt the relief flowing through my body when another member of my cohort made the decision to move down to the lower and less challenging course only 10 feet above ground, which gave me permission to do the same, too.

You might be asking what any of this has anything to do with our text today. It’s not about rope courses. But, about buildings. A building, in fact. The temple. The first temple. Built by King Solomon.

This call of Solomon was not revealed to him by God, but to King David, his father. David was the one who wanted to build the temple. But, God had forbidden him from it. There was too much blood on his hands from all of the wars he had fought.

So, even though Solomon didn’t come to the monarchy through divine intervention, God clearly approved of him, particularly because in a dream he had asked God only for wisdom with which to reign. This pleased God so much that God gave him not only wisdom, but riches, too. Vast riches. Enough to build this grand and beautiful temple that represented the transcendence and immanence of Yahweh. And where Israel’s worship and the twelve tribes of Israel would be unified.

This temple held deep meaning for the Israelite community. It was built on Mount Moriah where, without God’s intervention, Abraham would have sacrificed Isaac. It was built on land where life prevailed. It’s magnificence matched the dedication ceremony - an eight-day celebration that marked its completion. A joyful occasion filled with glorious music, lots of instruments, and singers galore. An offering of 22,000 oxen and 120,000 sheep - so large that extra space was required. All Israel gathered together in community to celebrate this magnificent building, full and overflowing, our text tells us, with the glory of the Lord! 

Now, we know that, eventually, all of this would fall apart. In time, Israel would split into two nations, the result of years of oppression by Solomon and later kings. Eventually, both of these nations would be destroyed. The temple, too, would be destroyed. Because, in part, Israel would lose sight of who they had been called and shaped and formed to be - God’s beloved people who were blessed to be a blessing.

How different are we from Israel? How different are we from the church in Martin Luther’s day? How quick are we to abandon God to all that distracts us from whom we are called to be? Where we come to church, not to worship God or to be formed to live more fully into our call, but for our own comfort? For our needs, rather than for those in need? Are we living into who God has called us, like Israel, to be - a beloved people of God who are blessed to be a blessing? 

I failed to mention to you at the beginning of my sermon that this ropes course was in a former Catholic church. A church that, like so many other churches past and present, is now closed. Is this happening because the Church is failing to live out its call? (Church with a capital “C”.) Is the Church failing to live into the mission to which God has called it? Is it possible that this is a time of dismantling by God? A time that the church as we know it is being disrupted by the Holy Spirit, perhaps as in 1517? That the church is being disrupted so that God whose presence will not be contained by any building might push us outside our walls, so that we might meet Jesus in the margins of our world?

You and I have been graciously set free in Jesus to be the Church, just as Martin Luther was called in his time and Israel in theirs. May we know and trust as they did that, even in times of reformation, God’s presence will surround us, guiding our way, even when we cannot see what the future will bring. Amen.

Preached October 31, 2021, at Grace & Glory, Prospect, and Third, Louisville.

Day of Reformation

Readings: 1 Kings 5:1-5, 8:1-13; John 2:19-21

God's Way of Leading: History Repeats

Rehoboam went to Shechem, for all Israel had come to Shechem to make him king. When Jeroboam son of Nebat heard of it (for he was still in Egypt, where he had fled from King Solomon), then Jeroboam returned from Egypt. And they sent and called him; and Jeroboam and all the assembly of Israel came and said to Rehoboam, “Your father made our yoke heavy. Now therefore lighten the hard service of your father and his heavy yoke that he placed on us, and we will serve you.” He said to them, “Go away for three days, then come again to me.” So the people went away.

Then King Rehoboam took counsel with the older men who had attended his father Solomon while he was still alive, saying, “How do you advise me to answer this people?” They answered him, “If you will be a servant to this people today and serve them, and speak good words to them when you answer them, then they will be your servants forever.” But he disregarded the advice that the older men gave him, and consulted with the young men who had grown up with him and now attended him. He said to them, “What do you advise that we answer this people who have said to me, ‘Lighten the yoke that your father put on us’?” The young men who had grown up with him said to him, “Thus you should say to this people who spoke to you, ‘Your father made our yoke heavy, but you must lighten it for us’; thus you should say to them, ‘My little finger is thicker than my father’s loins. Now, whereas my father laid on you a heavy yoke, I will add to your yoke. My father disciplined you with whips, but I will discipline you with scorpions.’”

So Jeroboam and all the people came to Rehoboam the third day, as the king had said, “Come to me again the third day.” The king answered the people harshly. He disregarded the advice that the older men had given him and spoke to them according to the advice of the young men, “My father made your yoke heavy, but I will add to your yoke; my father disciplined you with whips, but I will discipline you with scorpions.” So the king did not listen to the people, because it was a turn of affairs brought about by the Lord that he might fulfill his word, which the Lord had spoken by Ahijah the Shilonite to Jeroboam son of Nebat.

When all Israel saw that the king would not listen to them, the people answered the king,

“What share do we have in David?
    We have no inheritance in the son of Jesse.
To your tents, O Israel!
    Look now to your own house, O David.”

So Israel went away to their tents. But Rehoboam reigned over the Israelites who were living in the towns of Judah.

Then Jeroboam built Shechem in the hill country of Ephraim, and resided there; he went out from there and built Penuel. Then Jeroboam said to himself, “Now the kingdom may well revert to the house of David. If this people continues to go up to offer sacrifices in the house of the Lord at Jerusalem, the heart of this people will turn again to their master, King Rehoboam of Judah; they will kill me and return to King Rehoboam of Judah.” So the king took counsel, and made two calves of gold. He said to the people, “You have gone up to Jerusalem long enough. Here are your gods, O Israel, who brought you up out of the land of Egypt.” He set one in Bethel, and the other he put in Dan.  --1 Kings 12:1-17, 25-29 (NRSV)

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.

I’d like to tell you the story of two judges: Judge Cohen and Judge Klein. Both Jewish. One older - Judge Cohen. One younger - Judge Klein. Judge Cohen sat on the bench for over 30 years. Judge Klein was new to the bench, having just been appointed as a judge. Both of them, served at different times as the judge overseeing complex litigation in all of Los Angeles County. The complex litigation court is one that hears and presides over the cream of the crop when it comes to caseloads. Not your typical personal injury or motor vehicle accident. But cases that involve large numbers of people. That have substantial impact. Cases like class actions. Or coordinated cases - cases that deal with national issues, such as those related to asbestos exposure, or breast implants, or huge fires. Or massive price-fixing cases. They are cases that bring in the brightest and most powerful attorneys from around, not only the United States, but across the world.

Having served as the judicial officer overseeing the complex litigation courtroom for 20 of his 30 years, Judge Cohen had been responsible for decisions affecting not only California, but the U. S. and even the law in other countries. 

One might have expected him, then, to be incredibly proud of this work. One might have even expected that he might have become somewhat arrogant. After all, by the time he retired, his name was on the majority of published opinions in complex litigation cases throughout our country.

But, this was not who he was. Judge Cohen was, by his very nature, a humble man. He carried massive legal briefs home each night in a brown paper shopping bag. He read every word. And, when the powerful attorneys had amassed in the courtroom for argument, with one quiet question, he would hone into the very heart of the matter before him, would give space for all the parties to make their responses, would listen respectfully and carefully to each argument, and would then make his decision, most of which would hold up on appeal. An example of a humble, gentle, public servant.

Judge Klein took Judge Cohen’s place after he retired. Now, Judge Klein was as brilliant, if not more so, than Judge Cohen. Perhaps it was his lack of experience. Perhaps it was his sense of insecurity at filling the very big shoes left by Judge Cohen. But, when Judge Klein took the bench it was as if he had something to prove. Berating attorneys. Mocking their arguments. Often failing to remain neutral in an argument, instead deliberately trying to provoke the parties. Even verbally abusive to his staff. The power of his position appearing to go to his head. Feeding his ego. Making him arrogant, thinking that everything was about him. A type of “me-ism” that often occurs as one gains power and wealth.

This story of two judges, Judge Cohen and Judge Klein, is analogous today to our story of two kings: Rehoboam and Jeroboam.

Rehoboam was the son of Solomon. Solomon, who was the son of David, who we heard about last week as he was anointed king over a unified kingdom of Israel - all twelve tribes together under one king, David. Who reigned for 40 years. 

David’s son, Solomon, succeeded him in the dynasty. We know Solomon for his wisdom and as a great builder, especially of the temple. We also know him for his hundreds of wives, many of whom were from foreign countries. Whose gods distracted him. So that, in addition to the God of Israel, Solomon began to worship their gods, as well. It was because of this - because of Solomon’s lack of fidelity to God - that God declared judgment - that God would dissolve the united kingdom and take the northern tribes from him and from the house of David. And that this would happen during the reign of Solomon’s son, Rehoboam, one of our two kings in today’s story.

Solomon had another problem. Although he was a great builder, he did this on the backs of the people. By imposing huge taxes on them. And by conscripting them into forced labor. Into slavery. The man Solomon had placed as overseer of this enslaved workforce was none other than Jeroboam, the second in our tale today of two kings. While Jeroboam was in this role of overseer, God sent the prophet Ahijah to anoint as king over the northern tribes. And, as you can imagine, he quickly went into exile to preserve himself from the reach of Solomon’s power.

As today’s story opens, Solomon is now dead. Rehoboam has succeeded his father. The northern tribes now call Jeroboam out of exile to lead them to meet with the new king of the house of David. To seek from him a lightening of their load. A lifting of the heavy yoke his father has placed on them. That he might reduce the levels of slavery that they have suffered under Solomon’s reign. And, that, if he does, then they will serve him. Rehoboam sends them away for three days.

During these three days, he seeks counsel. First, he goes to the elders. Those who have served his father. To seek advice. They tell him to listen to the people. To reduce the load. To be a servant to them. That, if he does this, if he leads them in this way, then the people will serve him forever. 

But, Rehoboam is new to this position. Perhaps it's that he has something to prove. Or maybe he’s just immature. He seeks additional counsel from his own friends, his younger friends who now attend him. It is their advice he follows. So, when Jeroboam and the northern tribes return after the three days have passed, Rehoboam defaults to the immature, arrogant, young man he is. Mine is bigger than yours, he says to them. A response that is exactly how bullies and immature teenagers act. An understanding of power that is at its very worst. Rehoboam adds to the burden of the oppressed, rather than easing it. And the kingdom falls apart.

Today, we celebrate Reformation Sunday. Like the story of the two judges, this story of the two kings mirrors in some ways what was happening during the 16th century. The church had become a worldly, dominant power. Bishops sought and gained their seats through the wealth of their families. To finish the building of St. Peter’s in Rome, this great edifice to the glory of the church, it’s leaders sought to sell forgiveness in the form of indulgences. Those in power sought to lord it over the poor, trying to find more and more ways to extract wealth from them. It was this that Luther and others railed against. It was this that led to the split of the church, like the split of the kingdom. A difficult thing that we still live into today. 

In our story, Jeroboam was called to be a servant-leader. But, then, he, too, begins to create centers of worship away from Jerusalem to protect his own power and position. Eventually, putting up golden calves for the people to worship. Just as there was sin on both sides of the split of the united kingdom of Israel, so, too, there was sin on both sides of the Reformation. 

It is in our human nature, that, as we begin to amass privilege and power and control, we begin to move away from God. We begin to rely upon ourselves and those things in our lives that we set up as our own gods. Our intellect. Our money and profit. Our homes and our families. Even our religion. These things - these gods - that pull us away from God. This is the theology of glory that Luther wrote about in the Heidelberg Disputation. Where it is all about us. About me and mine. A pervasive “me-ism” that pulls us away from God.

Instead, we are called to follow Jesus, the true servant-leader. This is the heart of Luther’s theology of the cross. That, in Jesus, God comes to us. God meets us in our sin and in our suffering. When we recognize that we cannot do this on our own. God comes to us at great cost. A cost that most of us are unwilling to pay ourselves. A cost borne for us, who can do nothing to change who we are. But, a cost borne for us by God, who is the only one through whom we are changed. 

This is to be the shape of our Christian lives. Where we seek to follow the example of Jesus. We, who, in him, have become perfectly free, lord of all, subject to none. But, also, perfectly dutiful, servant of all, subject to all. It is in this paradox where lordship finds its expression in service. And where the good news of Jesus Christ takes root in us to change us into the servant-leaders God calls us to be.  “Whoever wishes to become great among you, must be your servant, and whoever wishes to be first among you, must be a slave of all.”

May God grant us a life fully claimed by Jesus, that we might fully serve others. Amen.

Preached October 27, 2019, at Grace & Glory Lutheran Church, Goshen, KY.

Reformation Sunday

Readings: 1 Kings 12:1-17, 25-29; Mark 10:42-45; Psalm 46

Living Faithfully in the Promise: Seeking Wisdom

Grace and peace to you from God, our Liberator, and from our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. Amen.

In last week’s reading, we heard the story about King David. About his sin against Bathsheba and her husband, Uriah. And about how David was confronted by the prophet, Naaman, over his sin. David recognized how deeply he had sinned against God. He repented. And God forgave him. Yet, as I mentioned last week, even though God forgave David for his sin, David did not escape the consequences of his sin and off how he had allowed himself to be corrupted by power. His same dysfunction eventually spread throughout his family. After losing the child he had fathered with Bathsheba, David also witnessed one of his sons sexually assault a daughter, a second son killing the first because of it, and a third son, who attempted to overthrow David and lose his life in the process. 

Today, we hear a story about King Solomon, the second son of David and Bathsheba. By the time we reach our story today, David has died. After a great deal of political turmoil, Solomon has taken the reigns of the kingdom, likely as a young teenager. It is here where we pick up the story, reading from 1 Kings, chapter 4. (1 Kings 4:3-15)

Solomon loved the Lord, walking in the statutes of his father David; only, he sacrificed and offered incense at the high places. The king went to Gibeon to sacrifice there, for that was the principal high place; Solomon used to offer a thousand burnt offerings on that altar. At Gibeon the Lord appeared to Solomon in a dream by night; and God said, “Ask what I should give you.” And Solomon said, “You have shown great and steadfast love to your servant my father David, because he walked before you in faithfulness, in righteousness, and in uprightness of heart toward you; and you have kept for him this great and steadfast love, and have given him a son to sit on his throne today. And now, O Lord my God, you have made your servant king in place of my father David, although I am only a little child; I do not know how to go out or come in. And your servant is in the midst of the people whom you have chosen, a great people, so numerous they cannot be numbered or counted. Give your servant therefore an understanding mind to govern your people, able to discern between good and evil; for who can govern this your great people?”

It pleased the Lord that Solomon had asked this. God said to him, “Because you have asked this, and have not asked for yourself long life or riches, or for the life of your enemies, but have asked for yourself understanding to discern what is right, I now do according to your word. Indeed I give you a wise and discerning mind; no one like you has been before you and no one like you shall arise after you. I give you also what you have not asked, both riches and honor all your life; no other king shall compare with you. If you will walk in my ways, keeping my statutes and my commandments, as your father David walked, then I will lengthen your life.”


Then Solomon awoke; it had been a dream. He came to Jerusalem where he stood before the ark of the covenant of the Lord. He offered up burnt offerings and offerings of well-being, and provided a feast for all his servants. 1 Kings 3:3-15 (NRSV)

There are many tales throughout history of some supernatural power that offers a certain someone a wish. Or two. Or three. Who remembers “I Dream of Jeannie,” from the 70’s? Or how about Aladdin and his magic lamp? Or did you hear the story about the married couple? Both of them were 60 years old and celebrating their 35th wedding anniversary. During their party, they were given a gift. As they opened it, they found a lamp. And out came a genie. He congratulated them on their anniversary and then offered to grant each of them one wish.  The wife wanted to travel around the world. The genie waved his wand and “poof,” the wife had tickets in her hand for a world cruise. Next, the genie asked the husband what he wanted. He said, “I wish I had a wife 30 years younger than me.” So the genie picked up his wand and “poof,” the husband was immediately 90 years old.

Now God isn’t a magic genie. Even though sometimes we might like to think so. But, in our story, God comes to Solomon - this new, young, teenage king. And God says - actually, God commands Solomon to ask. “Ask for anything you want. And I’ll give it to you.”

I wonder if, as a teenager, I would have had the presence of mind to ask for what Solomon did. “A discerning mind” is what he wanted. Literally, in the Hebrew, it is translated a “listening heart.” In biblical understanding, the heart is not the place of feelings or emotions. It is the center of understanding and will. It is the heart that determines what one’s spiritual direction will be. The place where God influences and determines who we will be. So, to be in line with God’s advice and God’s will, we have to listen to God in our heart. In asking for a “listening heart,” Solomon is asking that there would be unity between himself and God. And that this this unity would determine his actions - how he would reign as king.

It was an impressive request coming from one so young. It impressed God. And pleased God. And so, God not only blessed Solomon with wisdom, but also with things that he didn’t ask for. Wealth. And fame. And a promise that, if Solomon would walk in God’s ways and obey God’s commands, he would live a long life just like his father David.

Immediately, Solomon’s “listening heart” was put to the test. We continue reading at chapter 4, verse 16. (1 Kings 4:16-28)

Later, two women who were prostitutes came to the king and stood before him. The one woman said, “Please, my lord, this woman and I live in the same house; and I gave birth while she was in the house. Then on the third day after I gave birth, this woman also gave birth. We were together; there was no one else with us in the house, only the two of us were in the house. Then this woman’s son died in the night, because she lay on him. She got up in the middle of the night and took my son from beside me while your servant slept. She laid him at her breast, and laid her dead son at my breast. When I rose in the morning to nurse my son, I saw that he was dead; but when I looked at him closely in the morning, clearly it was not the son I had borne.” But the other woman said, “No, the living son is mine, and the dead son is yours.” The first said, “No, the dead son is yours, and the living son is mine.” So they argued before the king.


Then the king said, “The one says, ‘This is my son that is alive, and your son is dead’; while the other says, ‘Not so! Your son is dead, and my son is the living one.’” So the king said, “Bring me a sword,” and they brought a sword before the king. The king said, “Divide the living boy in two; then give half to the one, and half to the other.” But the woman whose son was alive said to the king—because compassion for her son burned within her—“Please, my lord, give her the living boy; certainly do not kill him!” The other said, “It shall be neither mine nor yours; divide it.” Then the king responded: “Give the first woman the living boy; do not kill him. She is his mother.” All Israel heard of the judgment that the king had rendered; and they stood in awe of the king, because they perceived that the wisdom of God was in him, to execute justice. 1 Kings 3:16-28 (NRSV)

Two prostitutes came before Solomon. Before, we explore this story, it’s important for us to understand a few things. Being a prostitute in ancient Israel didn’t carry with it the same moral judgment that it does in our time. It likely meant that both of these women were widowed, with no family, and no means of support. They lived together. Each with a baby. We might wonder why Solomon’s first test concerns women, who were single parents and prostitutes. Perhaps the storyteller is intentionally giving us this image of the person of the highest social standing listening to those with the lowest standing. Because it is a wise leader and a wise person who will attend to the humanity and the rights even of those whom others consider of no great importance.

Whatever the storyteller’s intent, Solomon hears their matter. These women lived in the same house, and each had a baby. During the night, one had accidentally smothered her child. She then switched her dead infant for the living one. Now, each woman claimed the remaining living child as her own. 

In a stroke of inspired genius, Solomon suggests they cut the baby in half, giving half to one mother, half to the other. Of course, the true mother would willingly give up her child, rather than see it killed. Which is exactly what happened. And which identified for Solomon who the true mother was. This was the wise judgment of this young king. Knowledge of him spread throughout all Israel.  And respect for Solomon grew, too, because the people of Israel knew that God’s wisdom had been given to Solomon.

But it was the other things God had given to Solomon that would become his downfall. He would not be able to govern himself or to control his own desires. Although he was wise and discerning with others, he wasn’t with his own appetite for power and women and food. He became known for his extravagant wealth and his consumption, for his number of wives - over 700, and for worshipping at the places of his pagan wives. All of this would eventually lead the kingdom to the edge of bankruptcy and, after his death, to divide and eventually be exiled. All because Solomon could not control his own desires. 

Solomon was known for such amazing things and, yet, he was a profoundly flawed human being. Like so many others we have heard about over these past few weeks. How is it that someone can be so profoundly a sinner and, yet, so profoundly used by God? This is the great paradox of the Reformation. What Martin Luther called, in the Latin, simul justus et peccator. Simultaneously saint and sinner. It’s what Solomon was. What David was. What we are. 

So often, though, we don’t think of ourselves as saints. We may not be particularly bad, we think, but, certainly, we’re not like the super-holy people we call saints. Yet, being a saint isn’t about what we do or don’t do. It is about who we are in relationship with God. That’s also true of being a sinner. The Lutheran confessions define sin as the “self-centered failure to trust God.” Solomon’s problem - and ours - is not that we break God’s rules. It’s that we desire to be “like God.” To rely upon our own judgment instead of trusting God’s word. To rely upon our own knowledge instead of having faith in God’s wisdom.

It is why we come here. Because, it is here, in community with each other, where we weekly come face-to-face with our sinner side. With our inability to trust. And where we are forgiven each time. It’s where we become “saints” - or as Luther would define it, we become forgiven sinners. Because it’s not that we change into something different. It’s because our relationship with God changes as a result of God’s grace. What matters most is not what we do or decide, but that Jesus died for us. It is because of this that, when we look in the mirror and see ourselves as sinners, God looks at us and, through Christ, sees saints. 

This is the gift of our Lutheran heritage. A heritage that points to what God has done and to how graciously God has loved and forgiven us, even when we, like Solomon, fall so short. This love and forgiveness is what we can rely upon in a world that has become so filled with hate. Hate that we have seen so vividly this week - in the sending of IED’s to public leaders, in the local shooting at Kroger, in the massacre of several of our ancestors in faith yesterday at the synagogue in Pittsburgh. 

Our world so desperately needs this message of grace and love - the gift of God and our Lutheran heritage. May we claim this heritage and may God give us, like Solomon, “listening hearts”  - hearts that are united with God’s will so that we might share God’s grace and love with all the world. Amen.

Preached October 28, 2018, at Grace & Glory Lutheran Church, Goshen, KY.
Reformation Sunday
Readings: Matthew 6:9-10, 1 Kings 3:4-28.

Wilderness Living

Ahab told Jezebel all that Elijah had done, and how he had killed all the prophets with the sword. Then Jezebel sent a messenger to Elijah, saying, “So may the gods do to me, and more also, if I do not make your life like the life of one of them by this time tomorrow.” Then he was afraid; he got up and fled for his life, and came to Beer-sheba, which belongs to Judah; he left his servant there.

But he himself went a day’s journey into the wilderness, and came and sat down under a solitary broom tree. He asked that he might die: “It is enough; now, O Lord, take away my life, for I am no better than my ancestors.” Then he lay down under the broom tree and fell asleep. Suddenly an angel touched him and said to him, “Get up and eat.” He looked, and there at his head was a cake baked on hot stones, and a jar of water. He ate and drank, and lay down again. The angel of the Lord came a second time, touched him, and said, “Get up and eat, otherwise the journey will be too much for you.” He got up, and ate and drank; then he went in the strength of that food forty days and forty nights to Horeb the mount of God. At that place he came to a cave, and spent the night there.

Then the word of the Lord came to him, saying, “What are you doing here, Elijah?” He answered, “I have been very zealous for the Lord, the God of hosts; for the Israelites have forsaken your covenant, thrown down your altars, and killed your prophets with the sword. I alone am left, and they are seeking my life, to take it away.”

He said, “Go out and stand on the mountain before the Lord, for the Lord is about to pass by.” Now there was a great wind, so strong that it was splitting mountains and breaking rocks in pieces before the Lord, but the Lord was not in the wind; and after the wind an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake; and after the earthquake a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire; and after the fire a sound of sheer silence. When Elijah heard it, he wrapped his face in his mantle and went out and stood at the entrance of the cave. Then there came a voice to him that said, “What are you doing here, Elijah?” He answered, “I have been very zealous for the Lord, the God of hosts; for the Israelites have forsaken your covenant, thrown down your altars, and killed your prophets with the sword. I alone am left, and they are seeking my life, to take it away.” Then the Lord said to him, “Go, return on your way to the wilderness of Damascus; when you arrive, you shall anoint Hazael as king over Aram. Also you shall anoint Jehu son of Nimshi as king over Israel; and you shall anoint Elisha son of Shaphat of Abel-meholah as prophet in your place. Whoever escapes from the sword of Hazael, Jehu shall kill; and whoever escapes from the sword of Jehu, Elisha shall kill. Yet I will leave seven thousand in Israel, all the knees that have not bowed to Baal, and every mouth that has not kissed him.” 1 Kings 19:1-18 (NRSV)

Grace and peace to you from God, our creator; Jesus Christ, our redeemer; and the Holy Spirit, who calls us and continues to renew and sustain us each and every day. Amen. 

How many of you are baseball fans? If you are a baseball fan--and even if you’re not--it was hard to miss the World Series this year, wasn’t it? What a great series it was--setting records for the most number of home runs, for one of the longest games (maybe even the longest!), plus that fact that the Dodgers and Astros went the full seven games. 

You probably know which team I was rooting for, don’t you? Yeah, having lived in So. California, I’m a diehard Dodgers fan. In that last game, as they were behind 5-0, I kept thinking that once the 6th inning came, they’d get back into the game as they had so many times before.

But, it wasn’t to happen this year, was it? Instead, the Astros won that last game 5-1 and, with it, the series.

I couldn’t really begrudge the Astros for winning it, though. After all that Houston has been through this year, it kind of felt right, didn’t it? That their team would win the Series and bring home the trophy for the first time ever--a win that gave them something to celebrate, even in the midst of all of the difficulty the people of Houston have experienced over these past few months.

It’s been quite a past few months, hasn’t it? Hurricanes, earthquakes, fires. In reading the text for today, and, particularly, when I read vs. 11-12 in The Message, I was struck by the similarity of these past few months with the experience of the prophet Elijah as he stood at Mt. Horeb, or Sinai, as we also know it, waiting to see God. “A hurricane wind ripped through the mountains and shattered the rocks before God, but God wasn’t to be found in the wind; after the wind, an earthquake, but God wasn’t in the earthquake; and after the earthquake fire, but God wasn’t in the fire.”

As the hurricanes ripped through Texas and Louisiana, and Florida and Puerto Rico, and the rest of the Gulf Coast and the Caribbean, where was God? As the earthquake shook Mexico, was God to be found? As the fire tore through No. California, destroying thousands of homes, had God abandoned everyone? In the midst of the hurricanes, and earthquakes, and fires, where was God to be found?

Elijah wondered the same thing. Where was God to be found? Had God abandoned him?

Elijah. Just who was Elijah? To understand his story, we have to back up a bit to our lesson from last week, when we heard the story of King Solomon, son of David. Solomon—renowned for his wisdom, his great wealth, his penchant for marrying foreign women, and, particularly last week, his building of the temple--a project that took him 7 years.

What we didn’t hear about Solomon, though, was that he also built a palace for himself. An extravagant project that took 14 years. Hmmm….7 years. Fourteen years. Seven years for the temple for God. Fourteen years for the palace for Solomon. 

Do you begin to see the problem? With all of his wealth. With all of his marriages to foreign women--women who came from different cultures and who worshipped different gods. With all of these distractions, Solomon began to lose sight of God. 

And everything began to fall apart. 

If you remember the story from last week, Solomon used forced labor to build the temple.  In addition, for him to maintain his lavish lifestyle, Solomon taxed the people excessively. There was growing discontent. 

By the end of Solomon’s reign, there was a kind of Tea Party revolt in the 10 northern tribes. “If you lower our taxes and ease our burden, we’ll stay with you and in your kingdom,” they told Solomon. It was his own son, his successor, who said, “No! In fact, I’m going to make it even worse for you,” and then he both increased their workload and their taxes. So, the northern tribes revolted. The kingdom of Israel split in two. The rebels formed a northern kingdom and the remaining tribe formed a southern one. Both continued to be ruled by kings--just different ones.

The prophet Elijah appears in the northern kingdom at the time of King Ahab. We know from archaeology that Ahab was one of the most powerful and successful kings for the northern kingdom. But, we also know from scripture, that he was also one of the most unfaithful.

We know little about Elijah. He first bursts onto the scene when he shows up after Ahab becomes king and predicts a drought. Knowing that the king won’t be happy with his prediction, Elijah flees and goes into hiding. 

God calls him to return. 

And, in what would be the equivalent of a World Wrestling Smackdown, Elijah triumphs over 450 false prophets of Baal, the god who is worshipped by Queen Jezebel, one of Ahab’s wives. At the end of this triumph, although it is not part of God’s command, Elijah slays all of the Baal prophets. Queen Jezebel is furious and sends Elijah a message. That within 24 hours he will be just as dead as the Baal prophets. 

Once again, Elijah is on the run. He flees for dear life to Beersheba, which is far south, near the border between Egypt and the Promised Land. He ends up in the same wilderness that Israel wandered in for 40 years. The same place where Israel cried out to God, “It would have been better if the Lord had killed us in the land of Egypt.” It is in this place—this same wilderness—that Elijah, centuries later, cries out, “Enough of this, God! Take my life--I’m ready to join my ancestors in the grave!”

How often do we, like Elijah and Israel, say these same words when we are in our own wilderness moments? Or when we witness the wilderness of our world. Where are you, God? How much more must I endure of this life? I have served you and now I am all alone. Take me from this life. Reunite me with those I have loved who are no longer here. How much longer, O God?

As we so often do, Elijah also felt completely alone. And afraid.

Yet, in  the next verses we read that God fed Elijah in the wilderness. That God sustained him for the journey he would take to Mt. Horeb--Mt. Sinai. It was there on the mountain that Elijah would learn that God is not always to be found in the glory and power and majesty we might imagine, or even desire. Sometimes, God is present in the sound of sheer silence. In the smallest of voices.

This week, a friend of mine shared some of her thoughts about All Saints Day in a Facebook post. She wrote about “thin places.” That some people think “thin places” refer to physical locations. But, for her, “thin places” are places of synchronicity of time and place accompanied by heightened awareness and emotional connection. God moments. Moments that are fleeting experiences that can’t be predicted or recreated, but that they stay in the memory as a touchstone, as something for us to hold onto. 

Then she, shared this quote by Mindie Burgoyne: “Thin places are ports in the storm of life, where the pilgrims can move closer to the God they seek, where one leaves that which is familiar and journeys into the Divine Presence. They are stopping places where men and women are given pause to wonder about what lies beyond the mundane rituals, the grief, the trials and the boredom of our day-to-day life. They probe to the core of the human heart and open the pathway that leads to satisfying the familiar hungers and yearnings common to all people on earth--the hunger to be connected, to be a part of something greater, to be loved, to find peace.” Thin places.

In my former church in Pasadena, we had a communion rail that ran in front of the altar from one side of the sanctuary to the other. On one All Saints Sunday, my pastor explained the tradition that these communion rails represented. That they didn’t stop at the walls, but that they continued to extend into infinity, into all time. So that, even in death, we are all connected together. That, when we come to the communion table, we are participating in the meal not only with those here present today, but with all the saints--past, present, and future. With our loved ones who have died. With our loved ones who are here with us. And with our loved ones who are yet to come. 

All of us. Together. At the Eucharistic feast--at this “thin place.” This “thin place,” where we come together in the midst of our wildernesses. Where we come in the midst of our mundane lives. Where we come in the midst of our grief and our trials.  Where, sometimes along the journey, we come like Elijah and Israel and look back and long for the past, simply because we don’t know what the next day will bring. 

It is here, in this “thin place,” where we come and where we experience the Divine Presence. Not in power and glory and majesty so much. But, like Elijah, in a quiet and gentle whisper. In the words we hear. In the water we touch. In the bread and wine we eat. Together, with 
the communion of the saints.

Then, like Elijah, we are reminded once again that God provides sustenance. That God provides strength for the journey and renews our call. And, mostly, mostly, that we are never, ever alone. 

May we cling to these touchstone moments as we travel through the wilderness. 

Amen.

Preached November 5, 2017, at Grace & Glory Lutheran Church, Goshen, KY.
All Saints Sunday
Readings: 1 Kings 19:1-18, John 12:27-19

Chasing Temples

Now King Hiram of Tyre sent his servants to Solomon, when he heard that they had anointed him king in place of his father; for Hiram had always been a friend to David. Solomon sent word to Hiram, saying, “You know that my father David could not build a house for the name of the Lord his God because of the warfare with which his enemies surrounded him, until the Lord put them under the soles of his feet. But now the Lord my God has given me rest on every side; there is neither adversary nor misfortune. So I intend to build a house for the name of the Lord my God, as the Lord said to my father David, ‘Your son, whom I will set on your throne in your place, shall build the house for my name.’

Then Solomon assembled the elders of Israel and all the heads of the tribes, the leaders of the ancestral houses of the Israelites, before King Solomon in Jerusalem, to bring up the ark of the covenant of the Lord out of the city of David, which is Zion. All the people of Israel assembled to King Solomon at the festival in the month Ethanim, which is the seventh month. And all the elders of Israel came, and the priests carried the ark. So they brought up the ark of the Lord, the tent of meeting, and all the holy vessels that were in the tent; the priests and the Levites brought them up. King Solomon and all the congregation of Israel, who had assembled before him, were with him before the ark, sacrificing so many sheep and oxen that they could not be counted or numbered. Then the priests brought the ark of the covenant of the Lord to its place, in the inner sanctuary of the house, in the most holy place, underneath the wings of the cherubim. For the cherubim spread out their wings over the place of the ark, so that the cherubim made a covering above the ark and its poles. The poles were so long that the ends of the poles were seen from the holy place in front of the inner sanctuary; but they could not be seen from outside; they are there to this day. There was nothing in the ark except the two tablets of stone that Moses had placed there at Horeb, where the Lord made a covenant with the Israelites, when they came out of the land of Egypt. And when the priests came out of the holy place, a cloud filled the house of the Lord, so that the priests could not stand to minister because of the cloud; for the glory of the Lord filled the house of the Lord. 1 Kings 5:1-5; 8:1-13 (NRSV)

Grace and peace to you on this 500th anniversary of the Reformation from the God of Jacob, the Lord of hosts, our refuge and our strength. Amen.

What an amazing day this is, isn’t it? It is not often that we able to participate in and celebrate such milestone anniversaries in the church. And it’s not often that we, in particular as Lutherans, experience one as significant as this one--the 500th anniversary of the posting of the 95 theses on the church door in Wittenburg.

So, it may seem that our text today--the story of the building and dedication of the temple by King Solomon--might be an unusual one for today. After all, should we be immersing ourselves in Romans--Paul’s letter in the New Testament that was so crucial to Luther’s breakthrough understanding. Or perhaps, it should be Psalm 46, the words that were the inspiration for Luther’s hymn, A Mighty Fortress, which we sang earlier and which is like a national anthem for us Lutherans.

Instead, today, we are considering Solomon. Solomon--king of Israel. Solomon--son of King David. 

In last week’s lesson David, Solomon’s father, had just been anointed by Samuel as king. By the time of today’s story, David is no longer alive. Yet, it was David, considered Israel’s greatest king, who reigned for 40 years over Israel, and who, during his reign, finally brought Israel into a time of peace and prosperity. David--this great king of Israel, who had, yes, stumbled badly along the way--yet, who with Bathsheba produced a son who would continue his dynasty. King Solomon.

There are four primary markers that characterize Solomon’s kingship over Israel--his extraordinary wisdom, his remarkable prosperity and wealth, his accomplishment of building the temple, and his penchant for marrying foreign women.

Today, our focus is on the building of the temple. 

Solomon had been chasing this idea of building a temple for some time. Although the idea began with his father, as Israel grew and prospered under Solomon’s reign and his kingdom experienced peace on every border, Solomon decided that it was time. That it was time that a temple must be built as God’s dwelling-place.  

It began on a positive note. It began with a desire that God would be at the center of the community, that worship of God would be central to the community, and that, in this important place, God would dwell. 

And, yet, there was a downside to this building. We learn in the chapters in between our reading today that it was built with forced labor from among the Israelites. And that it was funded through heavy taxation on the people. That, in order to create this grand structure, there was an oppressive price to pay on the part of many of the people.

In Luther’s day, Pope Leo X also chased the idea of building a temple. He sought to build St. Peter’s Basilica in Rome--a glorious, imposing and important tribute to the power and presence of God. A place where God might dwell. 

Yet, as with the construction in Solomon’s time, there was an oppressive price to be paid as funds were raised for this. In fact, the fund-raising was unscrupulous, particularly by Johann Tetzel, a German Dominican monk. It was Tetzel’s act of selling forgiveness that led to Luther’s challenge to the papacy. It was a challenge to Pope Leo to reclaim the focus of worship--that worship should be focused on the God who claims us and who calls us. It was Luther’s call to reclaim this focus in the face of practices that had become so oppressive to the people that led to the Reformation.

Chasing temples and the building of temples dedicated to God--well, it always starts out with the best of intentions. We want to do something great for God. “The glory of the Lord fills the house of the lord--I have built you a place to dwell in forever,” Solomon proclaims as the temple is dedicated.

And, yet, it inevitably all falls apart. We, human beings, inevitably end up creating a structure that fails. As much as Solomon and Pope Leo were trying to do something good in their own times, the structures they built eventually become corrupt and oppressive to the people. 

Our own church structures today are in need of reform. We are in a time when it is no longer the cultural expectation that one go to church. Our congregations continue to shrink. Yet, we in this post-Christendom time continue to operate under an old model--one that may have worked in the 1950’s, but which will not work now. We are in need of our own reforming to find new, more efficient and faithful means of participating in God’s mission.

As long as we, like Solomon and Pope Leo and all those before us--as long as we continue to chase temples. To chase places in which we seek to contain God. Places that eventually become oppressive and ineffective and that lose God as their center. As long as we continue to do this, well, the need for reform will continue to exist. 

Jesus dealt with this in his time. In our Gospel today from John 2, Jesus was dealing with the questions of a deeply flawed institution--a second temple built to glory God that had become corrupted and lost God as its center. Jesus is the one--the only one--who does the reforming. Jesus is the one who enters into the temple. Jesus is the one who cleanses it, an action that will raise questions about his authority. Jesus is the one who responds with these words, “Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up.”

You see, the true place of God’s presence is a person, rather than any building. Any structures we might create are transient. God’s presence is embodied in one person--Jesus Christ. Christ is at the center of our worship. Christ is the mark of our identity. Christ is the person who binds us together in community. In proclaiming these words--”In three days I will build it up!”--Christ begins a profound word of reformation. A reformation that is reshaping the lives of people around the center--around God’s presence in the crucified and risen Christ.

Over these past few weeks, we’ve been talking about our own ministry here. We’ve been asking each of you to prayerfully consider how you might give more to our ministry, both financially and of your time. In just a few moments, we will be asking you to present your pledges for 2018.

These requests haven’t been intended to oppress. They aren’t intended to guilt you into giving more of your money and resources. Or more of your time and talent.

Instead they are an opportunity. A moment in time for each of us to prayerfully look at our lives and the life of this congregation and to re-form ourselves. To re-focus. To re-center on the crucified and risen Christ--in each of our lives and, particularly, in this place. And to stop chasing building temples and seeking to contain God. But, instead, to re-commit ourselves and our ministry to a God for whom there are no limitations. And to be prepared to be changed and reshaped in a way we could never have imagined. Just as with the Reformation some 500 years ago.  

May God grant it. Amen.