Now in the church at Antioch there were prophets and teachers: Barnabas, Simeon who was called Niger, Lucius of Cyrene, Manaen a member of the court of Herod the ruler, and Saul. While they were worshiping the Lord and fasting, the Holy Spirit said, “Set apart for me Barnabas and Saul for the work to which I have called them.” Then after fasting and praying they laid their hands on them and sent them off.
In Lystra there was a man sitting who could not use his feet and had never walked, for he had been crippled from birth. He listened to Paul as he was speaking. And Paul, looking at him intently and seeing that he had faith to be healed, said in a loud voice, “Stand upright on your feet.” And the man sprang up and began to walk. When the crowds saw what Paul had done, they shouted in the Lycaonian language, “The gods have come down to us in human form!” Barnabas they called Zeus, and Paul they called Hermes, because he was the chief speaker. The priest of Zeus, whose temple was just outside the city, brought oxen and garlands to the gates; he and the crowds wanted to offer sacrifice. When the apostles Barnabas and Paul heard of it, they tore their clothes and rushed out into the crowd, shouting, “Friends, why are you doing this? We are mortals just like you, and we bring you good news, that you should turn from these worthless things to the living God, who made the heaven and the earth and the sea and all that is in them. In past generations he allowed all the nations to follow their own ways; yet he has not left himself without a witness in doing good—giving you rains from heaven and fruitful seasons, and filling you with food and your hearts with joy.” Even with these words, they scarcely restrained the crowds from offering sacrifice to them. Acts 13:1-3, 14:8-18 NRSV.
Grace and peace to you from God our Father, from Jesus Christ, our Savior and Lord; and from the Holy Spirit, our Advocate, our Helper, and our Sustainer. Amen.
We continue this week in the Acts of the Apostles. Or, perhaps, it is better named the Acts of the Holy Spirit. Because, as we saw in last week’s story, it is the Holy Spirit that is the primary character of the Acts narrative - the primary character in forming and shaping the people of God into the church.
Last week, we heard the story of Peter and Cornelius in Caesarea, located some 78 miles northwest of Jerusalem, along the Mediterranean coast. Today’s story begins in Antioch, which is another 300 miles north of Caesarea, also along the Mediterranean coast.
It’s important for us to understand that, after Jesus’ resurrection, the disciples initially remained in Judea, the province where Jerusalem was located. Continuing to share what they had witnessed with their own eyes. They did this mostly in the temple and the synagogues simply because they were Jewish. This was their community. However, it wasn’t before this became a problem for the religious leaders. Things escalated. And, eventually, one of the apostles - Stephen - was stoned to death.
It was Stephen’s stoning that scattered and drove the disciples out of Judea in fear. Yet, we know that even in the midst of fear and darkness, God is always at work. Bringing about new life. So, as the disciples were being driven to places further away, their mission continued. And churches were planted along the way.
One of those churches was the church in Antioch. Antioch was a cosmopolitan city located in the Roman province of Syria. It was the capital city, a center of Greek culture, and a commercial hub. After Stephen’s stoning, many Greek followers fled to Antioch, introducing Christianity to the large population of the Jewish diaspora who lived there. It was in Antioch that Jesus’ followers were first named “Christians.” Because of this growing community, Barnabas was sent by the Jerusalem church to guide the believers in Antioch.
The Antioch church was diverse. We see that in the opening verses of chapter 13. Names that reflect many different cultures: Barnabus, from Cyprus - a Greek island off the Mediterranean coast. Simeon, nicknamed Niger, of African descent. Lucius, from Cyrene, a North African. Manaen, a foster brother of Herod Antipas, killer John the Baptist and ruler at the time of Jesus’ death. And Saul, whom we also know as Paul, which is his Jewish name - Saul being his Roman name. He had been brought to the church in Antioch by Barnabas, from his hometown of Tarsus, which is where he, too, had escaped under his own threat of persecution.
Our story opens with the community worshiping and fasting. Then, present their midst, the Holy Spirit tells them, “Appoint Barnabas and Saul to do my work.” They continue their fast and worship and it is then, after they have finished, that they lay their hands on Barnabus and Saul and send them on their way into the unknown to share their own stories of faith - their own stories of meeting Jesus.
Over the past few weeks, we’ve been talking about being sent. We live in a time that is very different, yet very similar to that of the early church. The church, as we know it, is in a period of decline as the reality of Christendom - where the church was once central to society and culture - is no more. As Christendom disappears, the church is being pushed to the margins. We are no longer an accepted part of the culture. We are moving into a time and place that is very similar to that of the early church. This can feel challenging. We might wonder how, in the midst of this upheaval and change, we are to continue to do God’s mission? As fewer and fewer people walk in the front doors of our church, how are we to continue to do God’s mission?
Last week, we talked about sharing our story - the story of this place. Grace & Glory. And how this community has, from its very beginning, like the Antioch church, been a place of inclusivity. Where difference and diversity are celebrated. Where those on the margins of society are welcomed and valued.
Today, our focus is on sharing your story. Yes, I said, sharing your story. Each one of us, like Paul and Barnabas, has a story to share. A story or stories of when we have met Jesus in our lives. Perhaps it was in a moment of utter darkness and, maybe, it wasn’t until years later that we recognized Jesus present. Beside us. Or perhaps it was in moments of light and Jesus’ presence was immediately clear to us. Whatever those moments, I, without hesitation, believe that each of us have stories to share of when we have met Jesus. Stories that, if they are shared, become life-giving stories in which God’s mission of sharing the good news is carried out.
Yet, I think it only fair that, before I can ask you to share your stories, I must share one of mine.
It happened in the summer 2006. I was in my first year of seminary. With a group of students - none of whom I knew beforehand - I went to a small village in Italy for three weeks to study medieval theology, spirituality and worship. One day, early in the trip, I met a fellow student - a young woman named Cari. She has given me permission to share this story. Now Cari had grown up in the Salvation Army. This is a church that does wonderful work in our world, but it is also a church with very fundamentalist beliefs. Cari’s family had been in the Salvation Army for generations. Her grandparents were important leaders nationally in this church. Cari had been involved in it from early on and had been active as a youth leader and a summer camp director. She was on a trajectory to become an important leader in the Salvation Army.
But, there was one problem. Cari was gay. And, as much as she tried to fight and to deny it, eventually, to be her authentic self, she had to come out. And when she did, she was shunned by her church. By her own family. And by any community she had really ever known. This resulted in a deep depression, a suicide attempt, and a resulting 3 month hospitalization. By the time I met her in Italy, she had only been out of the hospital for a few weeks. And she was searching. Trying to make sense of everything. Trying especially to understand where or if, in the midst of this darkness, God existed.
Now, before I go further, there is a part of my own story that I need to share with you. A part that is immensely painful for me and that brings up a vast amount of shame and sadness. I’ve mentioned before to you that my father died when I was 14. What I have left out of the story is how how he died. Which was by suicide. Now, there is much to this story, but it’s important that you understand two things. First, he was dealing with mental health issues, which is often true with those attempting suicide. Second, at the time he died, suicide was not discussed. Unlike today, where we have finally began to speak about it more openly, it was a taboo subject at the time. And so, because of that, there was and still is for me a lot of shame connected to his death.
So, that day in Italy, when Cari shared her story with me, I felt as though the Holy Spirit was nudging me to share my story with her. To share my story of my own father’s suicide, so that she would know that she was not alone. And that, even though it might feel to her that God had abandoned her as her church and family had, God had not. I wanted to share with her that God had created her in her own uniqueness. That God loved her - a love reflected in Jesus' death on the cross. And that God would always be present with her, bringing new life for her out of this dark place. All these gifts of our Lutheran tradition that had taken me years to fully understand - I was being called to share this with her.
But, I was afraid. Because I had never witnessed like this before. I had never evangelized like this before. It was terrifying, because it required me to be deeply vulnerable with her. To share my shame-filled story with her, not knowing how she might respond, or think of me. And I was uncertain of even what words to say. Yet, somehow, the Holy Spirit put words into my mouth and I shared my story and God’s story with her.
Each of us have stories to share. Stories of darkness where we have wondered where God is. Stories where, often in hindsight, we see that it was in the midst in those dark times where we truly met Jesus. Jesus, who knows our suffering. And our shame. Jesus, who brings us out of death to life.
What is your story? You - me - like Barnabas and Paul, we are called to share it. And, as we do, things may not happen exactly as we expect, as we heard in the second half of today’s story. Yet, somehow, even in the midst of our human messiness, the Spirit continues to work. Through us. Giving us the words so that others might meet Jesus, just as we have met him.
May God give you the courage and the words to share your story. Amen.
Preached May 12, 2019, at Grace & Glory Lutheran Church, Goshen, KY.
Easter 4
Readings: Acts 13:1-3, 14:8-18; Matthew 10:40-42
One day, as we were going to the place of prayer, we met a slave-girl who had a spirit of divination and brought her owners a great deal of money by fortune-telling. While she followed Paul and us, she would cry out, “These men are slaves of the Most High God, who proclaim to you a way of salvation.” She kept doing this for many days. But Paul, very much annoyed, turned and said to the spirit, “I order you in the name of Jesus Christ to come out of her.” And it came out that very hour.
But when her owners saw that their hope of making money was gone, they seized Paul and Silas and dragged them into the marketplace before the authorities. When they had brought them before the magistrates, they said, “These men are disturbing our city; they are Jews and are advocating customs that are not lawful for us as Romans to adopt or observe.” The crowd joined in attacking them, and the magistrates had them stripped of their clothing and ordered them to be beaten with rods. After they had given them a severe flogging, they threw them into prison and ordered the jailer to keep them securely. Following these instructions, he put them in the innermost cell and fastened their feet in the stocks.
About midnight Paul and Silas were praying and singing hymns to God, and the prisoners were listening to them. Suddenly there was an earthquake, so violent that the foundations of the prison were shaken; and immediately all the doors were opened and everyone’s chains were unfastened. When the jailer woke up and saw the prison doors wide open, he drew his sword and was about to kill himself, since he supposed that the prisoners had escaped. But Paul shouted in a loud voice, “Do not harm yourself, for we are all here.” The jailer called for lights, and rushing in, he fell down trembling before Paul and Silas. Then he brought them outside and said, “Sirs, what must I do to be saved?” They answered, “Believe on the Lord Jesus, and you will be saved, you and your household.” They spoke the word of the Lord to him and to all who were in his house. At the same hour of the night he took them and washed their wounds; then he and his entire family were baptized without delay. He brought them up into the house and set food before them; and he and his entire household rejoiced that he had become a believer in God. Acts 16:16-34 (NRSV)
Grace and peace to you from our Lord and resurrected Savior, Jesus Christ. Amen.
Each week as I prepare to write my sermon, there are a variety of things I do and read. I first meditate for a day or two on the reading, using different translations to see how it has been interpreted differently. Then, I go to the original Greek and see if there is anything that stands out to me. Then, believe it or not, I go onto Facebook. (Do I hear a collective groan?)
I really do go onto Facebook. Because on that platform, I am a member of a few different groups that discuss our weekly reading from the Narrative Lectionary. Sometimes the discussion gets very lively. At other times, there’s hardly any. This week, though, our reading from Acts resulted in one of the longest and most liveliest discussions I’ve seen over the past couple of years.
The primary focus of this discussion was the incident between the Apostle Paul and the slave girl who was possessed by a spirit, a spirit that gave her fortune-telling abilities. So, we are going to look closely at that exchange today. But, before digging deeper into it and everything it led to, first, a little context.
Last week, we heard about the conversion of Saul, whom we know better as Paul. His conversion happened along the road to Damascus, in Syria, some 135 miles away north of Jerusalem, as the crow flies. Today’s story is years later, years during which Paul has been formed as an apostle and, particularly, years during which he has been spreading the good news of Jesus Christ to the Gentiles, to the non-Jews. This is the mission territory where the Jerusalem council has sent him. Where the Holy Spirit has sent him.
As our story opens, Paul and Silas are in Philippi. Now Phillippi is in northeast Greece, a continent away from Jerusalem. It was a Roman colony and was located along a major east-west trade route for the Roman empire. So, Philippi was a cosmopolitan city with many influences, particularly Greek and Roman. In the verses that precede today’s story, we learn that the first convert in Philippi was Lydia, a woman who was a merchant selling purple cloth, likely a wealthy merchant. As was the custom of that day, when Lydia converted, her entire household was converted. It was in Lydia’s home that Paul and Silas were staying as they worked to share the Gospel throughout this thriving city. It is at this point that today’s story opens.
One day, as they were headed to a place where they had been praying outside the city gates, they met a young woman who was a slave. Our scripture says that she had a “spirit of divination.” What is interesting about this young slave woman and the spirit that inhabited her body was that, in the Greek, this spirit is called a “python spirit.” If you’re up on your Greek mythology, Python was the name of the mythical serpent that guarded the oracle at Delphi. Python was defeated by the Greek god, Apollo. So, the story of Python and Apollo is really a story of conflict. A story of a fight for rulership, over which god will ultimately prevail.
But, back to our young woman. After meeting Paul and Silas, she began to follow them and to shout, “These people are servants of the Most High God! They are proclaiming a way of salvation to you!” Doesn’t sound so bad, does it? But, day after day, when she saw them, she would shout this. After awhile, Paul became annoyed. Very annoyed. One day, he turned to her and ordered this spirit--this “python spirit”--out of her. Now, one would typically think that this would have been a good thing. That it was positive that Paul had freed her of this spirit.
One would think that.
But, in her case, she was being used by her owners--exploited by her owners--who were making a lot of money off of her, a lot of money off of her fortune-telling abilities. So, when Paul sent the spirit packing, along with it went their money-making ability. They got angry. They grabbed Paul and Silas and took them to the town square to the legal authorities.
Do you notice what they do next?
Rather than speak the truth of what had happened, they seek to exploit and to divide people by nationality. “They are Jews!” the men say. “They are bringing in practices that are different from our culture.” They seek to agitate the crowd against Paul and Silas for who they are--Jewish rather than Roman. Once again, they are engaging in exploitation. This time it is to drive a wedge between Paul and Silas and the rest of the people.
As a result, Paul and Silas are stripped and beaten. They are thrown into prison, into the “innermost cell,” which would typically have no windows and little air, except when the door was opened. They are secured in stocks. All of this because of a desire on the part of these men to exploit people and situations for their own means.
We already heard the rest of the story. In the middle of the night, as Paul and Silas are praying and singing hymns to God, there is a great earthquake, freeing all of the prisoners. And, eventually, the jailer is saved and baptized, along with his entire household.
Throughout this entire fascinating story, I am still captured by this python spirit. Setting aside the relationship to Greek mythology, I can’t help thinking about pythons and, especially, how they kill their prey. When they catch something--a small animal, for example--they seize their prey with their teeth, while simultaneously squeezing the life out of it. They are life-constricting, rather than life-giving.
This is what exploitation is. This is what is does. Whether it is the exploitation of a young slave, or the exploitation of a crowd, or any other form of exploitation, it is life-constricting rather than life-giving. It kills life, rather than creating life.
Our God is a God that creates life. That is life-giving. This is what we know from creation and from all of scripture. This is what we know from both the cross and the resurrection. God creates life. God is life-giving. Not life-constricting. When we exploit people or situations or when we, yes, exploit creation, we are not living as people of God. We are life-constricting rather than the life-giving people God intends us to be. This is the struggle. This is the fight for rulership, for which God will prevail. A fight between the god of the world that brings death. Or the God of life--who gives life through Jesus Christ. We know the winner of that conflict. We know that God will continue to bring life out of death, to offer forgiveness out of sin, to create light of out darkness, to bring belief out of unbelief. Life-giving. Not life-constricting.
Yesterday, I watched the funeral of Barbara Bush, our former First Lady and mother of former President George W. Bush. She was a wonderful woman. Not perfect, by any means, which she would easily admit. But someone who truly lived out her faith, putting service above selfishness, nation above political party. In a time when fear of AIDS was running rampant in our country, she publicly went to a hospital for infants infected with AIDS and held one, using her position to send a strong message throughout our country. There are many other similar stories. The one, though, that stayed with me the most was about a man named J. T. Pace.
Literacy was the one issue that Mrs. Bush worked on for her entire life. J. T. Pace was a son of a sharecropper. When Mrs. Bush met him, he was 63-years old. He had only recently become literate. He was scheduled to read the preamble to the constitution at an event commemorating our nation’s bicentennial. Backstage, at the event, he was very nervous. Mrs. Bush noticed this and asked if she might help by reading the preamble together with him on stage. He agreed. When they took the stage, they began to read it together. As Mr. Pace became more comfortable reading in front of the large crowd, Mrs. Bush began to lower her voice. Bit by bit, she continued to do this until, at last, Mr. Pace was reading completely on his own. Her work was done when he had fully found his voice.
Life-giving. Not life-constricting.
We, too, are to be life-givers. This is who we are called to be. To live into the redemption won for us by Jesus on the cross--a redemption intended not only for all humankind, but redemption intended for all creation, whom God has connected us to deeply. We are called to live into that redemption and to be life-givers.
This is why, on this Earth day, we celebrate the goodness of God’s creation and commit to caring for it. Not to exploit it, but to care for it and to advocate for its health and life, just as we are to advocate and care for all of life. Not to constrict life. But to be life-givers, just as God has given us life. Abundant life.
May God make it so. Amen.
Preached April 22, 2018, at Grace & Glory Lutheran Church, Goshen, KY.
Fourth Sunday of Easter
Readings: Luke 6:18-19, 22-23; Acts 16:16-34
Then they took Jesus from Caiaphas to Pilate’s headquarters. It was early in the morning. They themselves did not enter the headquarters, so as to avoid ritual defilement and to be able to eat the Passover. So Pilate went out to them and said, “What accusation do you bring against this man?” They answered, “If this man were not a criminal, we would not have handed him over to you.” Pilate said to them, “Take him yourselves and judge him according to your law.” The Jews replied, “We are not permitted to put anyone to death.” (This was to fulfill what Jesus had said when he indicated the kind of death he was to die.)
Then Pilate entered the headquarters again, summoned Jesus, and asked him, “Are you the King of the Jews?” Jesus answered, “Do you ask this on your own, or did others tell you about me?” Pilate replied, “I am not a Jew, am I? Your own nation and the chief priests have handed you over to me. What have you done?” Jesus answered, “My kingdom is not from this world. If my kingdom were from this world, my followers would be fighting to keep me from being handed over to the Jews. But as it is, my kingdom is not from here.” Pilate asked him, “So you are a king?” Jesus answered, “You say that I am a king. For this I was born, and for this I came into the world, to testify to the truth. Everyone who belongs to the truth listens to my voice.” Pilate asked him, “What is truth?”
After he had said this, he went out to the Jews again and told them, “I find no case against him. But you have a custom that I release someone for you at the Passover. Do you want me to release for you the King of the Jews?” They shouted in reply, “Not this man, but Barabbas!” Now Barabbas was a bandit. John 18:28-40 (NRSV)
Grace and peace to you from our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. Amen.
Today, we are beginning a series called “God’s Kingdom Revealed.” What do you think of when I use the term “kingdom of God”?
The kingdom of God can mean many different things to many different people. We are going to spend some time today thinking about how we envision the kingdom of God.
So, let’s begin by looking at scripture. The kingdom of God is both present and future. Let’s look first at the kingdom of God as something that is yet to come.
Let's read: Isaiah 2:1-4, Isaiah 11:6-9, and Revelation 21:3-5?
Based on these readings what is a word that you would use to describe the kingdom of God? As you say your word out loud, I will enter them into my iPad and we will create an image out of them. It’s okay to duplicate words. And, the more words we have, the more spectacular that image will be.
Now, let’s add to this image. Often we think of the kingdom of God as something in the future. But God’s kingdom is happening right now. Here, in our very midst.
Let’s read some more from scripture. Luke 1:50-54, Luke 4:18-19, Matthew 6:10, John 1:14-15.
Based on these readings, are there any new words we need to add to our word cloud?
What does God’s earthly kingdom look like? In today’s lesson, Jesus tells us in his encounter with Pilate that he has come to bring the truth.
Imagine the situation at the time: Pilate, with his position of power and authority, does not know what to do with this Jesus person. Pilate questions Jesus. And Jesus defies every expectation and understanding that Pilate has. And then there’s the crowd, acting like a mob, demanding the release of Barabbas.
The story feels a little like a modern-day episode of the TV show, “Law and Order,” doesn’t it? It involves a trial, false accusations, an arrest, and a betrayal. There are lies being told, power being manipulated, and innocent people caught in the crossfire. How is it even possible to see God’s kingdom and truth at work in such a mess?
What this story--this mess--provides for us is a contrast between how Pilate sees truth compared to Jesus’ truth. Pilate’s truth is in the power of a lie. In manipulating perceptions that eventually distort and misrepresent what is true. He accepts the lies that the Jewish leadership are feeding him about Jesus. That Jesus is a blasphemer. That he is a rebel against Rome. That Jesus is a threat to the social welfare. This is the truth the Jewish leadership feeds Pilate. This is the truth that Pilate accepts. It is a truth that perpetuates hatred. That diminishes life.
This false truth is countered by God’s truth. A truth that is about conveying love, rather than hatred. About giving life instead of diminishing life. God’s kingdom--the kingdom that Jesus rules--is founded on this truth. It is because this truth is not just about a claim of what the kingdom is. It is because this truth is characteristic of God. Loving. Life-giving. And, by extension, the One sent by God is also characterized by this loving and life-giving truth. It is this truth that is the basis for our relationship with God. With the Word, who in John 1, is “full of grace and truth.”
So, when Pilate asks the question, “What is truth?” he misses the point. The truth of Jesus, this Word made flesh, upon which we base our trust, is the very nature of the kingdom of God. It is a kingdom that is not from this world. And, yet, God. Loves. This. World.
God enters into this world in Jesus, who takes on the realities of all humanity--taking on our realities--we, who are susceptible to the kingships and nations of this world.
Let’s return to our headlines from the beginning of worship. The world is filled with lies and falsehoods. Sometimes it is hard to tell what is true and what is simply loud. But we know that Jesus is the truth. We may not always understand it, but we know that we can trust Jesus. So, we are going to cover over all of these voices--all of these falsehoods and lies and fears--with what we know to be true: that Jesus is our truth.
At the end of each pew is a small stack of colored paper and a few pens. I’d invite each of you to take a piece of paper and a marker, and, on your paper, write a truth about Jesus. Something like, “Jesus is truth,” or “Jesus is love,” or Jesus is peace,” or a truth you might pull from our word cloud. You choose how you want to bury these false headlines. Then, when you have written your truth, take it to one of the headline pages and begin covering up the lies--the lies that our world tells us.
What is truth? The truth is Jesus, who is the truth of the very nature of the kingdom of God.
God help us to hear this truth and to respond. Amen.
Preached March 11, 2018, at Grace & Glory Lutheran Church, Goshen, KY.
Fourth Sunday in Lent
Readings: Psalm 145:10-13, John 18:28-40
