Seeking: How are we to forgive and be forgiven?

“If your brother or sister sins against you, go and correct them when you are alone together. If they listen to you, then you’ve won over your brother or sister. But if they won’t listen, take with you one or two others so that every word may be established by the mouth of two or three witnesses. But if they still won’t pay attention, report it to the church. If they won’t pay attention even to the church, treat them as you would a Gentile and tax collector. I assure you that whatever you fasten on earth will be fastened in heaven. And whatever you loosen on earth will be loosened in heaven. Again I assure you that if two of you agree on earth about anything you ask, then my Father who is in heaven will do it for you. For where two or three are gathered in my name, I’m there with them.”

Then Peter said to Jesus, “Lord, how many times should I forgive my brother or sister who sins against me? Should I forgive as many as seven times?”

Jesus said, “Not just seven times, but rather as many as seventy-seven times. Therefore, the kingdom of heaven is like a king who wanted to settle accounts with his servants. When he began to settle accounts, they brought to him a servant who owed him ten thousand bags of gold. Because the servant didn’t have enough to pay it back, the master ordered that he should be sold, along with his wife and children and everything he had, and that the proceeds should be used as payment. But the servant fell down, kneeled before him, and said, ‘Please, be patient with me, and I’ll pay you back.’ The master had compassion on that servant, released him, and forgave the loan.

“When that servant went out, he found one of his fellow servants who owed him one hundred coins. He grabbed him around the throat and said, ‘Pay me back what you owe me.’

“Then his fellow servant fell down and begged him, ‘Be patient with me, and I’ll pay you back.’ But he refused. Instead, he threw him into prison until he paid back his debt.

“When his fellow servants saw what happened, they were deeply offended. They came and told their master all that happened. His master called the first servant and said, ‘You wicked servant! I forgave you all that debt because you appealed to me. Shouldn’t you also have mercy on your fellow servant, just as I had mercy on you?’ His master was furious and handed him over to the guard responsible for punishing prisoners, until he had paid the whole debt.

“My heavenly Father will also do the same to you if you don’t forgive your brother or sister from your heart.” --Matthew 18:15-35 (CEB)

I’d like you to think, for just a moment, about how stories help us to picture and imagine things differently than simply hearing someone state an explanation or a rule. As we heard last week, Jesus often uses stories - or parables - to teach. We’re going to have a little fun this morning. I invite you to turn to a neighbor or two and together brainstorm as many parables from the Bible as you can think of in three minutes. Select one person to write them down as you go. Hint: We heard three of them in last week’s reading. Ready? Set. Go. 

Why do you think Jesus chooses to use so many parables in his teaching? Many of Jesus’ parables begin with the words, “the kingdom of God is like…” Jesus is trying to explain to his disciples what life is like in God’s kingdom.

As we continue through the Sundays of Lent, we will be discovering many different glimpses of God’s kingdom. We’ll be asking a lot of questions about these to try to understand how we might learn to live these ways in our present time to help make this community and, then, our broader lives, a little more like God’s kingdom as we await its fulfillment. God will bring the kingdom fully, but we can make our spaces look a little more like it each day. 

Today, Jesus is talking about forgiveness in the kingdom of God. And, particularly, about forgiveness within community. When I use the word “community,” how do you understand that? What are some of your communities? Allow time for responses. 

Matthew, the gospel writer, was writing this for his specific community. It was a community that was under stress. Mostly Jewish, they had been cast out of the temple, out of an entire way of life. On top of that, they were experiencing the very real possibility of persecution. So, part of Matthew’s goal in narrating this parable from Jesus is to help his community learn how to be in relationship with one another, even in the midst of these major stressors.

It begins with civility. I’d like to read a paragraph from a book written by Gilbert Rendle. He is a church consultant who works with resolving church conflict. This is what he writes in the opening introduction to his book, entitled, Behavioral Covenants in Congregations: A Handbook for Honoring Differences: 

My work as a senior consultant with the Alban Institute regularly puts me into working relationships with congregations that are experiencing conflict and in which members exhibit behaviors which stand in contrast to my understanding of the teachings of their faith. I have witnessed small groups in which some members demand that other members leave the room because they do not trust speaking in front of them. I have interviewed congregational members who have leveled accusations against others based not on what they themselves have experienced or witnessed but rather on hearsay information repeated and embellished by friends whose personal preferences were not being met. I have worked with a congregation in which very wealthy and powerful members of the governing board held a formal victory party in the home of one of the leaders to celebrate their success in forcing their rector not only out of the church but out of town as well. He was sufficiently hurt and damaged that he would tell no one, not even his bishop, where he had gone. I have counseled with clergy who have considered or chosen to take legal action against their governing boards, casting all blame on the board rather than accepting their part in a difficult relationship that would require change and the seeking of forgiveness in order to be productive in ministry.

Do any of you know any congregations or clergy like that? (It may be too scary to answer that.) And, now, a harder and, honestly for me, a scary question, do any of you experience any of that here? Or with me? (If your answer is yes to that question, I encourage you to speak to me.)

Rendle goes on to add this: 

Although my relationship as a consultant makes me privy to more extreme examples of uncivil behavior than others who live and work in congregations, all clergy and laity commonly encounter behaviors that fall short of faith standards. I suggest that such behaviors are rooted, in part, in an inheritance based in cultural and congregational assumptions that we are now beginning to understand. Chief among those assumptions is the current notion that as individuals we do not have to defer to the need of the larger group, be it family, congregation, or community.

This book was first written in 1989, then updated in 1999 - nearly 25 years ago. I’m wondering, if we look at our world today, has much changed? Do we demand that our individual rights, or individual beliefs, are more important than communal rights or beliefs? 

What is the goal of conflict? That may seem an odd question, because I don’t think we often consider that there is a goal to conflict. The goal of conflict is reconciliation. Reconciliation with one another so that the community may be whole. Always. That is God’s definition of justice. When there is conflict within community or between community members, the whole community is impacted.

So, what do we do when we experience hurt from another? Jesus gives us a clear cut path. In fact, Jesus orders this clear cut path. First, we go to that sibling to address it. In other words, we don’t go on social media. We don’t triangulate - meaning we don’t go complain about that person to anyone else. We don’t even go to the pastor. We go to that person who has hurt us. And we try to reconcile with them. Period. Notice that, in our text, when 2 or more are gathered, Jesus says he is present. So, if we believe that, how might it change how we approach the person who has hurt us, knowing that Jesus is standing beside us in that conversation? Or how does that change our response if we are the one who has caused the hurt?

But, the direct approach may not always work. So then, Jesus tells us to take one or two community members with us to speak with that person. To try to find reconciliation. 

And that may not work. It is then to be reported to the entire community. And, if that doesn’t work then, as Jesus says, you should treat them as you would a tax collector or Gentile. But not so fast. Anyone remember how Jesus treated tax collectors and Gentles? That’s right. He took them to lunch. He didn’t cut them off. He took them to lunch. What does that say?

Our relationships matter. Here in this community and outside this place in your other communities. They matter to God, so they should matter to us. 

There’s a flip side to this conflict resolution that we also have to notice - the entire point of the parable Jesus tells. It’s about forgiveness. When we go to someone who has hurt us. And when (notice I said when) - when they acknowledge that they have hurt us and they repent and seek forgiveness from us, we are to forgive them. It doesn’t mean that, depending on the deepness of the hurt, it will happen immediately. In cases of abuse, it may take a lifetime. But, we, if we have been the victim of harm, are also called to do the work of forgiving. Not just within ourselves, but with the perpetrator of harm. As difficult as that may be. To not forgive is to keep ourselves trapped in the effects of the harm. Or as Marjorie Thompson writes, “Forgiveness means the power of the original wound’s power to hold us trapped is broken.” 

Because, ultimately, what is at stake here isn’t just a matter of debt and repayment, or sin and forgiveness, but the balance and integrity - the authenticity - of the community. Because this is the example we have from our Creator. Mercy. Or grace. Which is the thread that holds the kingdom together. 

One final note: In Hebrew there are something like five different words for sin. All different types of sin. But, one of those words defines the sin of not believing you are forgiven. I dare say that some of us - perhaps, many of us - have difficulty believing that we are forgiven by one another. And, even more so that we are forgiven by God.

May we, through the power of the Holy Spirit, live into forgiveness and into being authentic followers of Jesus as we build these authentic communities of faith. Amen.

Preached Sunday, February 26, 2023, at Grace & Glory Lutheran, Prospect, with Third Lutheran, Louisville.

Lent 1

Readings: Matthew 18:15-35; Psalm 32:1-2

Who We Are: Consolation

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

We have returned to Corinth, where we were in the spring, as we worked through portions of Acts and 1st Corinthians. Today, in the first of five weeks, we move to Paul’s second letter to the Corinthians. But, before we begin, let’s check in about what we remember about Corinth and, particularly, about the church that Paul planted in Corinth. 

We know that Paul first arrived there in about the Year 51. Paul was there for about a year-and-a-half, working in both as an apostle and as a tentmaker, which was his trade. After this time, he then moved onto plant a church in Ephesus. 

Corinth was an important cosmopolitan city, located on an important isthmus. It was a strategic political and military location for the Romans, including being the governor’s seat for the entire region of Achaia. 

We know that the church in Corinth was beset with division. There were many, many issues. Most of them, if you recall, revolved around status. Some of the conflict was between believers who had been converted by different apostles and claimed superiority over others. There was also an issue around economic status - those who were wealthy refused to eat with those who were poor, including for the weekly agape meal. 

The divisions resulted in frayed and shattered relationships within the Corinthian church. So bad, in fact, that Paul made a trip back to Corinth from Ephesus, where he had been moved. And, apparently, based on evidence we find in 2nd Corinthians, during that visit harsh words had been exchanged. 

Even after that visit, things were not resolved. So, Paul sent Titus back to Corinth with a letter - one that we don’t have but that is referenced in Paul’s writing. This letter was a harsh and corrective communication from Paul. The result was that there was a deep sense of woundedness between Paul and many in the congregation. Much of this woundedness revolved, once again, around status. But, this time, it was about Paul’s own status as an apostle. His status and integrity had been challenged by other apostles arriving in Corinth from Jerusalem. Who these other apostles were, we don’t really know. However, by the time this fourth letter, which we know as 2nd Corinthians, is written, Paul is calling them “false apostles.” 

In writing his letter, Paul does not address it to these false apostles, but to the congregation at Corinth. Because it is with them that Paul seeks reconciliation - something that is important to him because he views them as co-workers - as partners - in this ministry of reconciliation, in Christ’s ministry of reconciliation.

It is here where we begin. Paul opens gently. We read from 2nd Corinthians, chapter 1.

Paul, an apostle of Christ Jesus by the will of God, and Timothy our brother,

To the church of God that is in Corinth, including all the saints throughout Achaia:

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

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and the God of all consolation, who consoles us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to console those who are in any affliction with the consolation with which we ourselves are consoled by God. For just as the sufferings of Christ are abundant for us, so also our consolation is abundant through Christ. If we are being afflicted, it is for your consolation and salvation; if we are being consoled, it is for your consolation, which you experience when you patiently endure the same sufferings that we are also suffering. Our hope for you is unshaken; for we know that as you share in our sufferings, so also you share in our consolation.

We do not want you to be unaware, brothers and sisters, of the affliction we experienced in Asia; for we were so utterly, unbearably crushed that we despaired of life itself. Indeed, we felt that we had received the sentence of death so that we would rely not on ourselves but on God who raises the dead. He who rescued us from so deadly a peril will continue to rescue us; on him we have set our hope that he will rescue us again, as you also join in helping us by your prayers, so that many will give thanks on our behalf for the blessing granted us through the prayers of many. --2 Cor. 1:1-11 (NRSV)

I want us to take a closer look at the central portion of today’s text - verses 3 through 7. In this section is something that Paul often does as he begins a letter. He starts with a prayer or a blessing where he lays out before God the main theme he wants to get across to his readers. This is what Paul is doing in these first verses of 2nd Corinthians.

Do you notice anything interesting about this paragraph? We’ve talked before about the importance of repetition. If we take a close look at these verses, we see that Paul uses the word, consolation, or some form of it, ten times in these five verses. What’s interesting is that Paul only uses this word 25 times throughout the entire letter. But here, in just five verses, he uses the word ten times. So, what’s up with this?

If we dig deeper into the Greek, the verb that is at the root of all of these words is the word parakaleo, which means to instill someone with courage or cheer. To comfort them. Or to encourage them. Particularly, it means to come near. 

Paul’s approach at reconciliation is not to insist that he is right. Or to command the Corinthians how they should act or respond. But, instead he addresses them using the word, consolation. His desire is to overcome the strain that has taken place. The way to do this is to come near and speak words that will change the mood or the situation. This will then give courage, or a new hope, or a new direction, or new insight into what the future may look like. In using this word, Paul is intentionally meeting the Corinthians where they are. Just as God meets us where we are.

Contemporary theologian Ben Witherington writes that Cicero once suggested that “‘the ability to placate or reconcile was a sign of greatness in human character.’ If this is so, then perhaps 2nd Corinthians, more than any of Paul’s other letters, reveals his largeness of soul.” These words of encouragement, of comfort, of cheering up, of coming near are Paul’s way of affirming the Gospel message of a God - of our God - who raises up the dead. Just as human conflict led to Jesus’ resurrection, God’s own message of resurrection is a refusal to let human conflict dictate the future. 

Paul believed that failure to achieve this reconciliation would endanger the very Christian identity of the Corinthian church, since Paul was Christ’s agent - Christ’s apostle - to this church. To be alienated from Paul was to be alienated from the One who sent him. So, it is not only the heart of Paul’s ministry that is at stake, in his mind, it the very heart of the Corinthians’ faith that is at stake.

But there are a few more repeated words in this passage that we must pay attention to. We might think that the same Greek word would be used for affliction and suffering, given their similarity in meaning. However, in this passage, this is not the case. In fact, there are three different Greek words that translate in English as either affliction or suffering. Let’s look at each one separately.

The first word is thlipsis. This word, like consolation, is mentioned more often by Paul than any other New Testament writer and more so in 2nd Corinthians. It can refer to either external suffering or internal suffering. Specifically, it refers to suffering that has been experienced.

The second word used for suffering or affliction is pathema. This word generally refers to the suffering that Jesus experienced. His tribulation here on earth.

The third, and final word, is pascho. Notice that this word is only used once. It’s a word that Paul uses rarely and in different ways. In 1st Corinthians he uses it to describe the general sense of suffering that any Christian might know. In Galatians he uses it to describe a general experience of suffering. In 1st Thessalonians it refers to persecution. But here, as in Romans and Philemon, pascho is used by Paul to refer to the suffering that we share with Christ. Yet, this is different from how the word is used in other parts of the New Testament, where it is never used to refer to the suffering of believers, but only of the suffering of Jesus himself.  So, what is Paul doing here?

In connecting his suffering with that of Christ, Paul is connecting the Corinthian church to that same suffering. He’s emphasizing to them that there is a partnership or koinonos in both the suffering and consolation that is experienced by members of the body of Christ. He is bound to the congregation just as he is bound to Christ. 

When Christ suffers, we, as the body of Christ, suffer. When one of us suffers, the whole body of Christ suffers. Through our baptisms into the body of Christ, we are all interconnected - brought together in our suffering and our consolation.

This is important to Paul, and to us, because what is not promised is immediate relief from our afflictions or our suffering. But what is promised is that they can be endured. Specifically, they can be endured when they are understood as the sufferings of Christ, and the same sufferings that the apostles have known. And through which the gospel has been proclaimed. These are the same sufferings shared by the whole body of Christ. As members of this body, the Corinthians - and we - are called to be conformed to Christ’s own life-giving death. And to live obediently in expectation of the final glory that is to come. 

Paul’s hope for the church in Corinth, as with us, is that we will be members of the body of Christ who live out that partnership. Who understand that in sharing in the suffering and consolation of Christ as with one another, we also share in the final glory of Christ.

What hope this gives us in this time in which we are living! Knowing that as we suffer, whether it is from division, or physical illness or disease, or anxiety, or whatever affliction we experience, we are not alone. But we are partners with Christ, claimed by him, and brought into community with one another. So that we might be comforted. And that, together, we might endure. And find hope in the overwhelming power of God to bring life out of death. 

Thanks be to God! Amen.

Preached July 19, 2020, online at Grace & Glory Lutheran Church, Goshen, KY.

7th Sunday after Pentecost

Readings: 2 Corinthians 1:1-11; John 14:25-27

Privilege, Perspective, Power

Then Joseph could no longer control himself before all those who stood by him, and he cried out, “Send everyone away from me.” So no one stayed with him when Joseph made himself known to his brothers. And he wept so loudly that the Egyptians heard it, and the household of Pharaoh heard it. Joseph said to his brothers, “I am Joseph. Is my father still alive?” But his brothers could not answer him, so dismayed were they at his presence.

Then Joseph said to his brothers, “Come closer to me.” And they came closer. He said, “I am your brother, Joseph, whom you sold into Egypt. And now do not be distressed, or angry with yourselves, because you sold me here; for God sent me before you to preserve life. For the famine has been in the land these two years; and there are five more years in which there will be neither plowing nor harvest. God sent me before you to preserve for you a remnant on earth, and to keep alive for you many survivors. So it was not you who sent me here, but God; he has made me a father to Pharaoh, and lord of all his house and ruler over all the land of Egypt. Hurry and go up to my father and say to him, ‘Thus says your son Joseph, God has made me lord of all Egypt; come down to me, do not delay. You shall settle in the land of Goshen, and you shall be near me, you and your children and your children’s children, as well as your flocks, your herds, and all that you have. I will provide for you there—since there are five more years of famine to come—so that you and your household, and all that you have, will not come to poverty.’ And now your eyes and the eyes of my brother Benjamin see that it is my own mouth that speaks to you. You must tell my father how greatly I am honored in Egypt, and all that you have seen. Hurry and bring my father down here.” Then he fell upon his brother Benjamin’s neck and wept, while Benjamin wept upon his neck. And he kissed all his brothers and wept upon them; and after that his brothers talked with him. 
  ----Genesis 45:1-15 (NRSV)

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

Good morning to you. It is good to be back. I am grateful for the days off I’ve had, which have given me a chance to reflect, renew and refresh. I’m also grateful to be back. 

Because I missed a Sunday, we have a bit of catching up to do in our stories of Abraham and his descendants--these legends we’ve been working our way through during this entire summer.

If you recall, last week’s Genesis story was that of Joseph being sold into slavery by his brothers. You remember it, don’t you? How Jacob, Joseph’s father, showed favoritism to Joseph, his youngest son. (Have we heard this somewhere before?) And how Jacob gave Joseph a robe of many colors, making his brothers incredibly jealous. So jealous, in fact, that when they were out tending sheep, they stripped him of his technicolor dreamcoat and threw him into an empty cistern or well. And then sold him to a caravan of Ishmaelites traveling with their wares to Egypt. Then, to make matters even worse, they took dipped Joseph’s cloak in ram’s blood and returned home to tell Joseph that his youngest son was dead.

Do you see and hear, once again, the generations and generations of brokenness? So you see and hear, once again, the hatred and anger that simply seems to be carried from generation to generation?

As our story opens today, we find Joseph in a high position of power in Egypt. In fact, he is the administrator over all of Egypt. It has been a winding road to this point, one filled with false accusations and betrayal, with incarceration, and with dream interpretation. In fact, it was Joseph’s ability to interpret Pharoah’s dreams of feast and famine that led to his appointment to such a powerful position, notwithstanding his complete lack of experience. 

Under Joseph’s administration, Egypt has grown dramatically in size, as surrounding nations have looked to it for sustenance during a 7-year famine.

As the famine has gripped the entire region, Jacob has told his sons to go from Canaan to Egypt to buy grain. They appear before Joseph, who recognizes them. However, the sons--Joseph’s brothers--don’t recognize Joseph. And Joseph doesn’t reveal who he is. Instead, he uses his power over his brothers. He first demands that they go home and return with their youngest brother, Benjamin. He, then, imprisons his brother Simeon until they do. 

When the food finally runs out in Canaan, they decide to return with Benjamin. Joseph invites them to dinner. There, they share a meal with Joseph. And they still don’t recognize him. 

What happens next is either a test or a second act of revenge by Joseph. Joseph instructs his servant to slip a silver cup in Benjamin’s sack. He then confronts his brothers about the alleged theft and threatens to arrest Benjamin. Joseph’s brothers beg him not to do this. And Judah volunteers to trade places with Benjamin. 

It is here where today’s story begins. Joseph. So overwhelmed with emotion. Unable to conceal his identity any longer. Joseph sends all of his attendants away. Only his brothers remain. 

Joseph then reveals who he is to them--that he is their youngest brother, the one they sold into slavery those many years ago. He also shares with them, though, how God has used this evil act to save the lives of many, many people. 

Our story today ends with these words: “He (Joseph) kissed all of his brothers and wept, embracing them. After that, his brothers were finally able to talk to him.”

Reconciliation. After all that has happened between Joseph and his brothers, after the original evil act, after the acts of revenge--after everything, the relationship between Joseph and his brothers is restored. They are reconciled. 

As I hear this story once again--this story of evil and hate and of forgiveness and reconciliation, I’m reminded of something written by Brene Brown. Brene is a researcher and professor of sociology at the University of Houston who has researched, written and spoken extensively on the topic of shame and vulnerability. 

She has also spoken frequently about the three P’s - Privilege, Perspective, and Power. 

First, privilege. There is no word today that makes people more angry today than this word. Privilege. Especially, white privilege. “I worked for everything I have,” we say. “I had no privilege!”

According to Ms. Brown, if this is our understanding of privilege, then we fail to understand what it is. Privilege is something, some right we have that is unearned. It’s about unearned access or authority. We all have some kind of privilege, some kind of unearned right. What is your privilege? 

One example of my privilege, as a Christian here in Kentucky or in the entire U.S., is that I can wear a symbol of my religion (say, a cross) and not fear being called a murderer or a terrorist.  Privilege.

Or, another example. As a white woman, a mother, I have never had to have a conversation with my son about how to handle getting pulled over by the police. Both of these are examples of my privilege. 

I have unearned rights, or access and authority. Privilege has nothing to do with how hard I’ve worked. To fail to acknowledge our own privilege--especially the unearned rights we enjoy by virtue of being white. To fail to acknowledge this fails to acknowledge the pain of others who don’t experience our level of privilege. 

The second “P” is perspective. We all see the world through a lens. Whether it is as a result of our age, our gender, our race, our ability, we all view the world with a certain perspective. Add in the perspective of insight, personal history, family stories--we see the world in a particular way. And the more white, the more middle class we are, the more likely is our belief that it is our view of the world that is the only true view, the only right way.

So, we are told we should have empathy with others who don’t have the same perspective. To put down our own lens and to view the world through their lens. 

Unfortunately, this is impossible. It is impossible to set aside our own worldview.

How, then, do we take the perspective of others? First, we believe people’s stories and experiences as they are told to us. Period. So, when we hear from our African-American brothers and sisters that they are stopped by the police regularly without cause, we believe them.

Secondly, we acknowledge that how someone else views the world through their lens is just as true and real as how we view the world through ours. It’s not okay to say, “Oh, that’s a terrible story. But that’s now how I see it.” We can have an opinion. But we can’t dismiss what other people share with us as truth.

Then, there is the third “P.” That of power. We hate this word, power, don’t we, especially here in the church. There are many definitions for it, but, perhaps the best is that one given by Martin Luther King, Jr. He said that “Power is the ability to effect change.” 

To be without power, to have no ability to effect change, to be completely powerless is the most dangerous state we can ever experience. It leads to isolation. To violence. To shame. To self-harm. Think about history. When has violence occurred most throughout our world? It has happened when people felt powerless.

Somehow we have come to the belief in our country power is finite. That if I share some of it with someone else, I will lose some of my own. That is not power. That is “power over.”

“Power over” is finite. It is also ineffective. When we lead, when we parent, when we act from a position of “power over”, we, by definition, disempower people who have great ideas, great experiences, and great stories to bring to the table and to our broader shared experience. Brené Brown writes, what we are witnessing in our world today is the last resistance, the last stand of “power over.” 

Joseph had all three P’s. He was in a position of privilege, having unearned access through his appointment by the pharaoh. He had a perspective that was shaped by his own world view and experience, particularly that of having been sold into slavery by his brothers. He also had power--particularly, “power over.” The power to imprison his brothers, to exact that final revenge upon them for all of the hurt and pain they had caused. 



This past week has been so difficult, hasn’t it. As we have watched what has gone on in Charlottesville, as we have watched the hate and bigotry of racism and fascism and naziism raise it’s ugly head in our country, as we continue to witness the growing divide in our country, I don’t know about you, but for me it is so incredibly painful. And hurtful. And sinful.

Yes, sinful. The actions of white supremacists, of bigots, of racists, of neo-Nazis is sinful. Yet, it is not only they who have sinned. We have sinned. We have all sinned. We are all guilty. All of us. And, particularly, the church is guilty.

In his writings during the time of the second World War and the time of Adolph Hitler, Dietrich Bonhoeffer wrote that the church was guilty. That the church had not professed openly and clearly enough its message of the one God. That the church had not confessed its timidity, its deviations, its dangerous concessions. That it had disavowed its duties as sentinel and comforter. That it was mute when it should have cried out, as the blood of the innocent cried out to heaven. That the church did not find the right words in the right way at the right time. That it did not resist to the death the falling away from faith. That it was guilty of the godlessness of the masses. 

So, we, as individuals and as the church, are called to confess. To confess of the privilege we have used to harm people as a result of our race. To confess of the perspective we have claimed as the only true perspective. To confess of the way we have “powered over” people instead of “powering with” people. To confess of our guilt without a single glance at all of the others who are guilty. And to call everyone--all people in our nation into a community of confession.

We must begin with ourselves. With the church. We, who have been grabbed by the power of Christ’s grace--we must acknowledge, confess, and take upon ourselves not only our personal sins, but also the falling of the world. 

Then, we must begin to change. If we are tired of the story of white supremacy (and that is what it is as much as we hate that word!), then we must begin to call it what it is. Every one of us. To say the words. To call it out. And then, to think about what we can do differently. To believe other people’s stories and to begin to work around our privilege, to work around our own perspective, and to work around power to build a world together, a world that lives into God’s declaration that all that God created is good. Every bit of it. 

To choose not to do it because it is uncomfortable or because we can’t do it perfectly is not okay. Because that is the definition of privilege. Privilege allows us to simply walk away from the hard work simply because we are not affected by it the minute we wake up. 

It must begin here and now. With each and every one of us in the church. As Bonhoeffer wrote, “The church is where Jesus makes his form real in the midst of the world. Therefore, only the church can be the place of personal and corporate rebirth and renewal.”

Joseph eventually reached a place of reconciliation with his brothers. What began as a curse became a blessing on the nations. The same can happen in the church and in the broader world. Out of usurped power can come justice. Out of rebellion order. And out of bloodshed peace. 

And this--justice, order, and peace--is what the kingdom of God looks like. And what God desires for all of humanity and all of creation.

May God so grant it!

Amen.

Preached August 20, 2017, at Grace & Glory Lutheran Church, Goshen, KY.
Eleventh Sunday after Pentecost
Readings: Genesis 45:1-15, Psalm 133, Romans 11:1-2a, 29-32; Matthew 15:10-28. 

With attributions to Dr. Brené Brown and Dietrich Bonhoeffer.

The Quality of Our Love

I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another." (John 13:34-35, NRSV)

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

What is the quality of our love? This, I think, is the question for our consideration tonight. 

What is the quality of our love? On this Thursday evening, the first day of our Three Day remembrance of Jesus’ suffering, crucifixion and death and our celebration of his resurrection. On this day we call Maundy Thursday, Maundy coming from the Latin word, mandatum, meaning mandate or law. On this Law Thursday, this is the question that we are facing: What is the quality of our love?

“I give you a ‘new’ commandment.” Jesus said to his disciples. But, we know, that this really isn’t a new commandment.

All of scripture points to this command, this law of love, as central to God’s law. Central to whom our God is. Central to our relationship with this God.

From the Jewish Torah, in Deuteronomy, chapter 6, we hear this: “Hear, O Israel; The Lord is our God, the Lord alone. You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your might.” This phrase--called the shema--still today begins every morning and evening prayer service in the Jewish faith. 

And, yet, that love of God is not only central to our relationship with God, but also with one another. In Leviticus chapter 19, in another book of the Torah, after a long list of instructions on how to live as God’s holy people, we read: “...you must love your neighbor as yourself...”

In the Torah and continuing through the Hebrew Bible there are example after example, writing after writing, about how we are to love God and love one another.

So, it is nothing new that God expects us to love God and to love one another. 

Then, you might be wondering now, what is so “new” about this commandment? This new mandate given by Jesus to his disciples on the night before his crucifixion and death. 

What is new for us and for the disciples is not that we love, but it is how we love. It is about the quality of our love.

If we go back to our John text tonight, if we look carefully at the verses that precede this new commandment, we begin to get an answer to this question--about how we are to love. 

Beginning in verse 2, we read that Jesus and his disciples were sharing the evening meal. Then we read that Judas had already been provoked by Satan to betray Jesus. And, yet, knowing this, Jesus got up, took off his outer garments, picked up a linen towel and tied it around his waist, and proceeded to wash the feet of all of his disciples. Even the feet of Judas. 

And this is not all. If we continue into the next verses, as Jesus attempts to wash Peter’s feet and Peter says, “No! You’ll never wash my feet!”...in the verses that follow our new commandment, we read of Peter’s own betrayal, his denial of Jesus. Not once. But three times. 

What does this show us? What do Jesus’ actions and his words, bookended by betrayal and denial, what do they show us about the quality of Jesus’ love? And what does this tell us about what should be the quality of our love?

In just a few short moments, we will share holy communion. In both of our traditions, this meal is generally preceded by what we know as the Sharing of the Peace. In the early church, this was known as the Kiss of Peace or as the Holy Kiss. St. Augustine writes of this tradition in the fourth century: “After [the Lord’s Prayer], the ‘Peace be with you’ is said, and the Christians embrace one another with the holy kiss. This is a sign of peace; as the lips indicate, let peace be made in your conscience, that is, when your lips draw near to those of your brother, do not let your heart withdraw from his.”

This Holy Kiss is a sign that we are reconciled with one another. That, when we receive the bread and the wine and the body and blood of our Lord, we are at peace with each other. That we have set aside grudges, jealousy, anger or animosity. And that, unlike the church in Corinth that led Paul to write our second reading tonight, there is no distinction. No difference between each other, regardless of race, gender, sexual orientation, class, political party or whatever it is in our world that seeks to divides us, we are here, at the Lord’s table, one body, united in Christ’s love and in our love for each other as sisters and brothers in Christ.

Because, that night, that night of Jesus’ new commandment, Jesus knew that it was this kind of love--this kind of agape love--that would sustain the disciples over the next days, through his crucifixion and death and resurrection. And, that it would also sustain them in the days after Jesus had ascended and return to heaven. In the same way it sustains us today.

This. This is the quality of our love. It is love for each other here and for the whole world that is modelled for us in the simple act of hospitality shown all of the disciples, and us, by Jesus on this night so very long ago.

May we simply love in this very same way. Amen.

Persistance and Resistance

“You have heard that it was said, ‘An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.’ But I say to you, Do not resist an evildoer. But if anyone strikes you on the right cheek, turn the other also; and if anyone wants to sue you and take your coat, give your cloak as well; and if anyone forces you to go one mile, go also the second mile. Give to everyone who begs from you, and do not refuse anyone who wants to borrow from you.

“You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, so that you may be children of your Father in heaven; for he makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the righteous and on the unrighteous. For if you love those who love you, what reward do you have? Do not even the tax collectors do the same? And if you greet only your brothers and sisters, what more are you doing than others? Do not even the Gentiles do the same? Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect.  Matt. 5:38-48 (NRSV)

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

Today, this last Sunday after Epiphany before Transfiguration Sunday next week. This last green Sunday before Lent. Today is the last reading we have from the Sermon on the Mount in Matthew until much later this year. 

Last Sunday, I laid out how we got to this point. How Jesus, after his baptism, began his ministry of healing throughout the Galilean countryside. How the crowd following him continued to grow. How Jesus moved to a higher place, where he began to teach. And to lay out the vision of God’s kingdom--as set forth in the words of the Beatitudes. A vision so different from the current culture. 

And then, from last week’s reading, the examples Jesus gave from the law and the prophets, examples that Jesus reinterpreted for his day.  These reinterpreted examples that give us a vision of what it looks like for us to work to carry out that kingdom and to live in relationship with one another. Whether that is one-on-one or more broadly within our community of faith. And we reflected upon how hard, sometimes, living in relationship can be and how important it is to God that we stick around, even in those times when we don’t want to.

Then, we come to our reading for today. Once again, Jesus gives us examples. More examples of ancient laws that he reapplies for his day. Laws that are not narrowed, but reinterpreted for a new time. And, even though reinterpreted, they are laws that have at their very core the same principles of love and reconciliation as those from ancient times.

Today’s examples, unlike last week’s, push us out into the world, beyond the bonds of our community, past the walls of our church. They teach us how to live and respond in the midst of an evil world. They teach us how to respond to our enemies.

Who are your enemies? 

Who are the people you hate or who persecute you so much that you call them “enemy?” Who are the people in our world who seem to personify evil?

Who are your enemies?

That’s a hard question, isn’t it? 

Last summer, I was teaching 4th, 5th, and 6th graders in Vacation Bible School. At my teaching station, we shared a snack together and, at the same time, wrote thoughts and ideas in our journals. Thoughts and ideas that came out of a discussion of the Bible lesson for each day and from questions that I asked them. 

On one particular day, our lesson centered around the verses in Mark 12--those verses that sum up the Ten Commandments--that we are to love God with all our heart and soul and mind and love our neighbor as ourself. To love our neighbor as ourself. It’s the same words that come from the last verse of our Leviticus reading today. 

The children and I had a long discussion about who our neighbor was and, as part of it, a broader question about whether our enemies were also our neighbors.

When I asked them the same question I just asked you--”Who are your enemies?”--there was a collective grown. “We’re not supposed to have enemies,” one of them said. “God wants us to love everyone,” said another.

I challenged them to be real. To be honest. To admit that, yes, they had enemies. That we all have enemies. Whether it’s the bully at school, or the bully at work. Whether it’s a terrorist group in the Middle East or a terrorist group here at home. We all have enemies--those people that seem to us to personify evil. 

Having enemies is the result of sin and a broken world. Whether it is across the world in another continent. Or right here at home in our backyard. We all have enemies.

So, who are your enemies? 

And, going a step further, how are we to respond to our enemies?

In each of the examples in today’s Gospel, Jesus teaches us how to respond to our enemies. How to respond to and resist evil in a non-violent way. Whether it is to offer your other cheek to someone who “slaps you in the face,” someone who seeks to dishonor or humiliate you. Or whether it is the poor person who offers up his undergarments to the one who has already stripped away his outer garments--the creditor who has already taken away everything else. Or whether it is one who is powerless in our world, one who chooses to go one mile further than that already demanded by one with power, the one who sits on a higher rung of the societal ladder. Whatever the example, Jesus teaches us how to respond to our enemies and how to respond to the presence of evil in our world. And that is to resist it in a non-violent way.

In this month of February, as we, as a country traditionally lift up and honor the history and experiences of African-Americans, it is hard not to think of images from the Civil Rights movement. Those images that give us an example of resisting evil non-violently. Whether it is the image of resistance at a Woolworth’s counter, or that of being knocked over by force of water from firehoses in response to a peaceful, non-violent march across the Birmingham bridge, or even the image of the three African-American women at NASA, whose story is captured in the current movie, Hidden Figures--a story of their quiet resistance to evil carried out by a society that sought to keep them from fully using their mathematical genius simply because of the color of their skin. 

Whatever the image is, it is through non-violent resistance that evil is exposed. Evil is unmasked. Evil is named as evil. Resistance names what you see, exposes what might not want to be exposed, especially for the sake of someone who is vulnerable.

As we move further in Matthew this year, we will see how angry God gets with a world where people are routinely victimized or made to serve the ends of the more powerful. We will hear that God promises judgment to such a world. And, we will see, how important it is that we, as God’s people and messengers of the Good News, stand with those who are vulnerable and who are on the margins. To be salt and light for the world.

This is the message for us in the Sermon on the Mount. It is a hopeful vision of an amazing world in which there is wholeness and equality, peace and reconciliation.  It is a message of shalom. And it is a call for us--the church--to persist. To stick around. To be God’s messengers of this vision and to work with God in bringing this vision of hope to completion in our world. 

God, give us the courage and strength to carry out your vision. Amen.

Preached February 19, 2017, at Grace and Glory Lutheran Church, Goshen, KY.
Seventh Sunday after Pentecost.
Readings: Leviticus 19:1-2, 9-18; Psalm 119:33-40, 1 Corinthians 3:10-11, 16-23; Matthew 5:38-48.

Stick It Out

“You have heard that it was said to those of ancient times, ‘You shall not murder’; and ‘whoever murders shall be liable to judgment.’ But I say to you that if you are angry with a brother or sister, you will be liable to judgment; and if you insult a brother or sister, you will be liable to the council; and if you say, ‘You fool,’ you will be liable to the hell of fire. So when you are offering your gift at the altar, if you remember that your brother or sister has something against you, leave your gift there before the altar and go; first be reconciled to your brother or sister, and then come and offer your gift. Come to terms quickly with your accuser while you are on the way to court with him, or your accuser may hand you over to the judge, and the judge to the guard, and you will be thrown into prison. Truly I tell you, you will never get out until you have paid the last penny.

“You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall not commit adultery.’ But I say to you that everyone who looks at a woman with lust has already committed adultery with her in his heart. If your right eye causes you to sin, tear it out and throw it away; it is better for you to lose one of your members than for your whole body to be thrown into hell. And if your right hand causes you to sin, cut it off and throw it away; it is better for you to lose one of your members than for your whole body to go into hell.

“It was also said, ‘Whoever divorces his wife, let him give her a certificate of divorce.’ But I say to you that anyone who divorces his wife, except on the ground of unchastity, causes her to commit adultery; and whoever marries a divorced woman commits adultery.

“Again, you have heard that it was said to those of ancient times, ‘You shall not swear falsely, but carry out the vows you have made to the Lord.’ But I say to you, Do not swear at all, either by heaven, for it is the throne of God, or by the earth, for it is his footstool, or by Jerusalem, for it is the city of the great King. And do not swear by your head, for you cannot make one hair white or black. Let your word be ‘Yes, Yes’ or ‘No, No’; anything more than this comes from the evil one.  -Matthew 5:21-37 (NRSV)



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

Yesterday was a wonderful day, wasn’t it? Of course, I’m speaking for myself, but, at least for me, it was an amazing day!  I hope it was for you, too. It was the end of a very long journey for me that began in 2006 (and, really, much earlier than that). And, yet, the beginning of a new journey for me and for all of us here at Grace and Glory.

It was an amazing day!

And, then, today happens. And we are hit with a hard and difficult reading from Matthew as part of our regular lectionary. In a way, it feels like a very quick take down from yesterday’s high, doesn’t it? 

But, before we begin to dig into our Gospel lesson from today, let’s step back a bit, to get a broader view of the context in which Jesus is speaking these words that seem so hard and difficult.

In the preceding chapters of Matthew, Jesus, after being baptized by John, begins his ministry along the Galilean Sea, announcing the coming of God’s kingdom. As he has walked along this sea--a lake really--he has called his disciples, beginning with the fisherman brothers, Peter and Andrew. Along with these and 10 more newly-called disciples, Jesus has been traveling throughout the Galilean countryside, teaching in the Jewish synagogues--continuing to announce the coming of God’s kingdom in and through himself and, as we learn in Matthew 4, “healing every disease and sickness among the people.” He has healed people with all kinds of physical and mental maladies--those with diseases and in pain, those possessed with demons, those with epilepsy, and the paralyzed. Every person brought to Jesus with any physical or mental issue has been healed by him.

The result is that large crowds of people began to follow along with Jesus and his disciples. It is at this point then that Jesus begins to teach.  (Do you note how the healing comes first and then the teaching?)

So, Jesus goes up onto a higher place, sits down, surrounded by his disciples and the crowds nearby and begins to teach. It is these teachings that we call the Sermon on the Mount, beginning in Matthew, chapter 5, with the Beatitudes.

You know the words of the Beatitudes so well…”Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted. Blessed are the meek...those who hunger and thirst for righteousness...the merciful...and on and on. It is in these words of the Beatitudes that Jesus begins to lay out a vision of the kingdom of God, a kingdom so different from the empire in which the disciples are living--a kingdom that is the complete reversal of their experience under the Roman empire.

Then, as we heard last week in the texts on salt and light, Jesus begins to teach the gathered disciples (and the thousand or so followers just listening in) about what it means to be a disciple in this kingdom, training them and inviting them to voluntarily enter a very marginal life as a minority community and to read and understand Scripture (or the law and the prophets) with Jesus as the key to their interpretation.

Which brings us to our text today from Matthew 5. It is in the reading today where Jesus provides three examples for us--three places in which the Scripture that the disciples know and understand is reinterpreted through Jesus’ lens.

The first example involves anger.  Here, in this section beginning with verse 21, Jesus challenges us to understand that it is not only murder that brings judgment, but even anger with another. Whether it is anger expressed by insulting someone publicly, anger that is unresolved with another person, or anger that leads to murderous action, whether literally or metaphorically, none of this is behavior that is fit for God’s kingdom.  The alternative that is fit for God’s kingdom is reconciliation and peacemaking.

The second example involves the roles of men and women in social relationships, especially in a very patriarchal world. Here, Jesus challenges the destructive power of men over women as it relates to the issues of adultery and divorce. And his vision for God’s kingdom is a much more equal understanding of marriage and social relationship between women and men. 

The third and final example of Jesus’ reinterpretation relates to the integrity of word and action. On the wall in front of my desk here is a paper with the letters “DWYSYWD” on it. This is an abbreviation for the phrase, “Do what you said you would do.” This is the vision of God’s kingdom that Jesus has--where we walk the talk, where we do what we say we will do. It is this kind of straightforward, sincere, and trustworthy speech that builds honest and trusting relationships.

And that, ultimately, is what all three of these examples are about. They are about relationship. They are about living in relationship with one another. They are about the hard work of living together, whether one-on-one with each other or within the broader community of faith. Not only in Jesus’ time. But also right now. 


After yesterday’s excitement in particular, after the long wait you and I have had in reaching this point, we, here, at Grace and Glory are in a honeymoon period. You are excited to have me here. I am excited to be here. There is probably little that, for a while at least, can upset our relationship. We are getting along wonderfully well.

But it is inevitable that there will come a time when there will be something I say or do that will anger or frustrate you. Or something I say or do that challenges one of your beliefs, whether it’s a long held religious or political or cultural belief. Or even that you may do or say something to frustrate me. 

It is inevitable that there will come a time when the honeymoon period ends.

It is then that the real work of relationship will begin. The hard work of relationship. The work of finding reconciliation with each other when we’re angry, of apologizing for hard or insulting words, of engaging in more equal partnership as men and women, of doing what we say we will do. This is the hard work of relationship. It is the work that God’s kingdom requires. It is the work that God is calling us to do here at Grace and Glory. It is the work that God calls us to do out in the world. It is the work that brings wholeness and life.

So this is my closing challenge to you. Stick around. Even when you don’t want to, stick around. Even when you’re angry or frustrated, stick around. Even when someone hasn’t kept their word, stick around. 

This is what, as people of God, we are called to do. To stick around. We do it because God sticks around for us. Even in the midst of our human failings, God steps in and provides a way for us to reconcile and make peace with one another in the very same way that God stepped into a broken world and brought a Savior to reconcile each and every one of us with him. And continues to do so each and every minute of our day.

It is then, once we have stuck around, have struggled together, have reconciled and made peace with each other that, I believe, through God’s grace and mercy, we will truly begin to experience the fullness of God’s kingdom here at Grace and Glory.

May God so grant it. Amen.

Preached February 12, 2017, the Sixth Sunday after Epiphany, at Grace and Glory Lutheran Church, Goshen, KY.
Readings: Deut. 30:15-20, Psalm 119:1-8, 1 Cor. 3:1-9, Matt. 5:21-37.

A Border Story

On the way to Jerusalem Jesus was going through the region between Samaria and Galilee. As he entered a village, ten lepers approached him. Keeping their distance, they called out, saying, “Jesus, Master, have mercy on us!” When he saw them, he said to them, “Go and show yourselves to the priests.” And as they went, they were made clean. Then one of them, when he saw that he was healed, turned back, praising God with a loud voice. He prostrated himself at Jesus’ feet and thanked him. And he was a Samaritan. Then Jesus asked, “Were not ten made clean? But the other nine, where are they? Was none of them found to return and give praise to God except this foreigner?” Then he said to him, “Get up and go on your way; your faith has made you well.”   Luke 17:11-19 (NRSV)


Grace, mercy, and peace from God the Father and Christ Jesus our Lord.  Amen.

“On the way to Jerusalem Jesus was going through the region between Samaria and Galilee.” It is with these words that our Gospel lesson begins today. “Through the region between Samaria and Galilee.” The region between. This is our story for today, this 21st Sunday after Pentecost. It is a story of that place between. It is a border story.  

I think it’s different for you all here in Texas, with so much of your southern border a national border between the U.S. and Mexico.  It’s different at this border. 

I grew up on a ranch in north central South Dakota. And, even though we were only about 300 miles away from the border between the U.S. and Canada,  it wasn’t until I moved to Southern California that I really began to be aware of the U.S.-Mexican border and all of the politics surrounding our southern border.

You see, traveling over the border into Canada was never a big deal. Maybe it's because not many people drive through the Dakotas to get to Canada, so lines were never an issue. And security never seemed to be much of an issue either.

It was different at the border between El Cajon and Tijuana. There, even years ago, security seemed tighter and the lines at the border waiting to go through the INS station--which is what ICE was called back then--well, waiting at that southern border, the security lines seemed to be endless. 

I remember my first visit to Mexico one Memorial Day weekend. It took us 6 hours of waiting at the border checkpoint to finally cross back into California. And yet, even though waiting 6 hours could have been horrible, well, instead, it kind of became a party. People parked their cars and were mingling about. Local people from Tijuana were trying to sell pottery, blankets, candy and other goods. Waiting that 6 hours was, believe it or not, kind of fun.

And then, 9/11 happened. And things at the border were much, much different, weren't they? After 9/11, boundaries tightened up dramatically. And, then, cartel violence, which had always been there to some degree, got so much worse and became headline news.  

I remember a few years ago doing work in several cities along the Rio Grande, thinking how much I wanted to drive into Mexico to explore this northeastern part of the country, yet being strongly advised by the people I worked with that it was not safe. Not at all. That, because of the violence, they, themselves, who had so often travelled back and forth across the border, were no longer traveling to Mexico. 

No more sense of community. No more party atmosphere. Only separation. 

Like our southern border today, there was no party atmosphere at the border that separated the Samaritans and the Jews. In fact, there was a history of hostility between these people. 

At one time, they had been one nation. Yet the Babylonian exile and the return of the Jews from captivity had brought about changes and tension. The Samaritans and Jews were at odds about many things--beliefs about scripture, their worship, what it meant to be holy, and on and on. So, one has to wonder why, as our story tells us--why would Jesus be traveling in and among these border villages? On his way to Jerusalem, where he knew he would die, why seemingly tempt fate and put himself at risk, there, along the border?

Well, it’s because for God, there are no borders. The human borders we surround ourselves with, whether they be borders between nations or between people of different ethnic backgrounds or race or color or, even, religion; or borders between genders or generations;, or any other visible or invisible borders we place between ourselves and others--well, for God, they just don’t matter. God’s mercy is offered freely to all people. No borders. No divisions. No human convention about who is inside or outside, even when the outsider is an enemy, real or perceived. There is nothing that limits God’s mercy.

And this was the case in today’s story. As Jesus was entering into one of those small towns along the border, he was approached by ten lepers. Ten men who, by virtue of their disease, were considered contagious. Unclean. Who were banished to the border--a nowhere place where neither Samaritans nor Jews would choose to live, yet the place where these ten lepers, outcast from their communities, could keep their distance according to the law, according to the norms of society.

It was here, in the midst of this nowhere place with this nobody people, that Jesus was at work. Here in this barren borderland, in response to their pleas for mercy, Jesus sends these ten, diseased men on their way to their priest. And, on the way, our text tells us, they were healed. Along the way. Healed of this disease that had been a barrier for them. That had kept them apart from those they loved. That had kept them apart from their community.

And, then, one of them, realizing he has been healed, recognizes the presence of God. And what is his response? Well, he turns back and he offers praise and thanksgiving to the One who has healed him. And, this man, well, our text notes, he was a Samaritan. A foreigner. An outsider. An enemy. 

As he offers thanksgiving to Jesus for his healing, well, the other nine Jews, the ones who should have known better. Who should have gotten who Jesus was. Who should have turned back to offer their own thanks and praise. Whose people, because of their own lack of sight and lack of understanding, ultimately rejected Jesus…. While the other nine Jews continue on, it is the foreigner, the outsider, the enemy, the Samaritan, who is the one who turns back in gratitude. And, it is the Samaritan to whom Jesus says, "Get up and go! Your faith has saved you." Not that his faith has made him well, but that, more accurately, his faith has saved him. Salvation.

This is what God's salvation in Christ Jesus looks like. It is a salvation that restores us and reconciles us back into community, that turns us to see God in our midst, that returns us to worshiping God. It is a return that is focused on God, that recognizes that our God is a God who works in unexpected ways through unexpected people, bringing life where there seems to be no hope. Who turns human expectations and worldly systems upside down and, as is the case in our Gospel story and also in Naaman’s story this morning from 2nd Kings, it is a return that recognizes that God works through the lowly, the least, and the last of us to bring about healing and salvation, restoration and reconciliation. With God and with all people.

So, who are you in today’s story? Are you one of the nine? The entitled? Unable to see God at work around you among the least and lowly?

Or are you the tenth? The foreigner? The outsider? Even, perhaps, the enemy?

Regardless of who you are, God offers healing and mercy, life and salvation to all people.  No borders. No divisions. No insiders. No outsiders.  Life and salvation, offered to all people.

May our response then be that of the tenth--to turn back and give God thanks and praise. And to hear the promise in Jesus’ command to “get up and go,” that it is God-given faith in a resurrected Jesus that has saved us and that empowers us to step across boundaries and borders, to share mercy with outsiders, to pay attention to things that are worthy of praise, and to move forward into the future with the assurance that God is with us and that there is more to God’s story than meets the eye.

Get up and go, then. Go and witness to the saving love of God in Jesus Christ.

Amen.

Preached October 9, 2016, at Good Shepherd Lutheran Church, Bastrop, TX.
21st Sunday after Pentecost
Lessons: 2 Kings 5:1-15c, Psalm 111, 2 Timothy 2:8-15, Luke 17:11-19.

Step Back and See the Possibilities

The Son is the image of the invisible God,
        the one who is first over all creation,
Because all things were created by him:
        both in the heavens and on the earth,
        the things that are visible and the things that are invisible.
            Whether they are thrones or powers,
            or rulers or authorities,
        all things were created through him and for him.
He existed before all things,
        and all things are held together in him.
He is the head of the body, the church,
who is the beginning,
        the one who is firstborn from among the dead
        so that he might occupy the first place in everything.
Because all the fullness of God was pleased to live in him,
        whether things on earth or in the heavens.
            He brought peace through the blood of his cross.

Once you were alienated from God and you were enemies with him in your minds, which was shown by your evil actions. But now he has reconciled you by his physical body through death, to present you before God as a people who are holy, faultless, and without blame. But you need to remain well established and rooted in faith and not shift away from the hope given in the good news that you heard. This message has been preached throughout all creation under heaven. And I, Paul, became a servant of this good news.
Now I’m happy to be suffering for you. I’m completing what is missing from Christ’s sufferings with my own body. I’m doing this for the sake of his body, which is the church. I became a servant of the church by God’s commission, which was given to me for you, in order to complete God’s word. I’m completing it with a secret plan that has been hidden for ages and generations but which has now been revealed to his holy people. God wanted to make the glorious riches of this secret plan known among the Gentiles, which is Christ living in you, the hope of glory. This is what we preach as we warn and teach every person with all wisdom so that we might present each one mature in Christ. I work hard and struggle for this goal with his energy, which works in me powerfully.  Colossians 1:15-29 (CEB)

Grace and peace to you God our Father. Amen.

This past week I was on vacation in Colorado. In fact, I was at a family reunion. My father had thirteen brothers and sisters. Every three years, our family, which is now into its fourth and fifth generations and numbers over 300, gathers together at some place in the U.S. to remember who we are and where we are from. It’s an amazing and moving time as we sit together and listen to the stories of our lives, of the lives of our parents and children, and of the lives of our grandparents and grandchildren.  This year we met for our reunion in the mountains of Colorado for five days. 

While we were there, I had the opportunity to see my niece, who I haven’t seen in a few years. She’s been busy with finishing college and starting work. I’ve been busy with school and internship and moving across country a few times. So, here in Colorado, we had a chance to catch up.

She’s quite a young woman. A mechanical engineer who graduated with honors from Cal-Poly. She has a great job with a start-up biomedical company in Southern California. She loves to hike and camp. And, she loves to tinker with machines. She has three motorcycles that she loves to mess with along with numerous other mechanical and electronic devices.

So, it seemed natural that, when she showed up at the reunion, she brought her new drone along with her. Now, I’ve only read about drones and watched them online. I’d never seen one in person or watched on in action. So, it was fascinating for me to see her operate this and to watch what it could do. 

Here’s an example of what it was able to do. Here, in this video, she was able to take a video of the members of our family who came to the reunion (by the way, this is only about half of my family!) and then to raise it up further into the sky and pan over the entire area where we were able to stay. We were able to see the setting first from a very small perspective and then to see it from a much larger, fuller perspective of the entire place. 

It is this video, taken by my niece from her new drone, that was helpful for me this week in thinking about our texts. 

Let’s first look at our Gospel lesson. I really don’t care for this story. Because it just seems to pit Martha against Mary and vice versa. It also seems to say to me that we have to choose one way of life over another--that a contemplative life is better than an active life of service. That Mary’s attention to Jesus’ teaching is better and more important than Martha’s work to be hospitable. 

But if, like the drone, I pull back and look at the bigger picture, I’m wondering if something different isn’t going on here, something I’ve never stepped back far enough to see from a fuller perspective. What Martha was doing was what was expected of her. She knew that guests were coming and so she got busy to make sure everyone had everything they needed. This is what was--and often still is--expected of women. It was work that was not just expected, but also valued. 

What wasn’t expected, though, is that Mary would take the position of a disciple, seated at the feet of Jesus, listening to him teach. If hospitality was considered women’s work, well, discipleship was considered men’s work. So, perhaps, the intent of this story is to push us out, to see a broader perspective, to see the possibility of something different, to see someone actually acting differently from what would have been expected or even allowed a woman to consider. Perhaps as Jesus repeats Martha’s name, he isn’t expressing frustration with her, but deep affection: “Martha, Martha, it is exactly because I love you that I don’t want you to be distracted or trapped by your work or your expected role, but instead to step back and see all that is possible for you, just as Mary has.” 

To step back and to see the possibilities. 

Perhaps we can take a lesson not only from Mary, but also from my niece’s drone.

To step back and to see the possibilities.

What if, for example, we were to step back and see the possibilities in the recent protests over the shootings in St. Anthony and Baton Rouge?  To not view them only from a close perspective, where they might seem out of control or disruptive or wrong. But to back up and take a broader view. To gain a bigger perspective. To see the possibility of these protests as transformative. That they might be the first step in an upsetting of societal structures that protect and elevate those of us with white skin over those of us who are people of color.  

Or what about the ways in which we deal with young Muslim men and women who go to Syria to fight with ISIS. What if we were to step back and look at the bigger picture? 

This is what crime prevention officers did in a small town in Denmark. On receiving reports of two young Muslim teenagers missing from an immigrant neighborhood outside their town, they, too, stepped back to gain a bigger perspective. After an investigation, they found out that these young men had gone to Syria. They had been drawn to the call put out by ISIS for Muslims worldwide to help build a new Islamic state. 

The police officers didn’t stop with this information, though. They stepped back and began to ask why this might be happening and what they might do to prevent radicalization.

Now most of the rest of the European countries came down hard on citizens who traveled to Syria. France shut down mosques it suspected of harboring radicals. The UK declared citizens who had gone to help ISIS enemies of the state. Several other countries threatened to take away their passports--a move previously reserved for convicted traitors.

But Danish police took a different approach. They made it clear that any citizens of Denmark who had traveled to Syria were welcome to come home and that, if they did, they would receive help with going back to school, finding an apartment, meeting with a psychiatrist or mentor, or whatever they needed to fully integrate back into society. In the process, they ended up creating an unusual--and unusually successful--approach to combating radicalization.

This program came to called the “hug a terrorist” program in the media, but this description doesn’t sit well with the cops. They see themselves as making an entirely practical decision designed to keep their city safe. From their perspective, coming down hard on young, radicalized Muslims will only make them angrier and more of a danger to society. 

To step back and see the possibilities. 

You see, that’s also the point of our Colossians text today. From a close-in perspective, it would seem impossible for an infinite, eternal God who exists outside of time to indwell in one human being who is mortal, finite and who dwells inside of time. 

Unless, of course, it isn’t. 

Unless, of course, we step back and see the possibilities.  See a new way that God was and is at work. As we read in verses 19-20...For in him all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell, and through him God was pleased to reconcile to himself all things, whether on earth or in heaven.

To step back and see the possibilities. To step back and see that, through the event of Christ, God has reconciled himself to all things--on earth and on heaven. That God is at work making a new reality. A new social system. A new creative order marked by peace and reconciliation. Salvation is not about the transformation of our existing reality--the defeat of enemy powers. Salvation is about a radical reconciliation of the entirety of the created order. Salvation here is not about God making an offer and waiting to see who takes it. Here, it is about God just doing it. About God turning all creation on its head and reconciling himself to it through Him in whom all of the fullness of God was pleased to dwell.

To step back and see the possibilities. And to imagine God in a way that we have never imagined God before.

May that be our lesson today.


Amen.

Preached Sunday, July 17, 2016, at Chatfield Lutheran Church.
Ninth Sunday after Pentecost (Year C)
Texts: Psalm 15, Colossians 1:15-29, Luke 10:38-42