A Pastoral Message on Recent Events in Minneapolis

 The past few days have brought a lot of movement and sobering news to our region. From the tragic shooting in Minneapolis to the reports of increased ICE activity in our area, plus the arrival yesterday of approximately 200 agents in St. Cloud with helicopter support, our communities are feeling the weight of these events. Whether we feel anxiety, concern, or simply a heavy heart for those involved, there is a palpable sense of tension in our neighborhoods.

In seasons of uncertainty, we are grounded by the words of 1 John 4: "Dear friends, let us love one  another, for love comes from God... Whoever does not love does not know God, because God is love."

This scripture reminds us that our primary identity is found in how we love. To know God is to reflect God's heart—a heart that moves toward those who are hurting. Regardless of our individual perspectives on policy, we are united in the call to see the "neighbor" in every person we encounter. When our community is on edge, we are called to be the ones who bring a sense of calm, dignity, and grace to the conversation.

Prayer is our first and most vital response. We pray for peace, for the safety of all involved, and for wisdom for those in positions of authority. But we also remember the call to "pray with our feet." This means allowing our faith to take active form in our daily lives. It means being a neighbor who listens, a friend who supports, and a presence that reflects the "perfect love" of Christ that casts out fear.

As we move through these coming days, let us each ask: How can I embody the peace of God in my specific circle today?

A Closing Prayer: Gracious God, we lift up our community to You. In the midst of transition and tension, grant us the clarity to see one another through Your eyes. We pray for protection for the vulnerable, wisdom for those who lead, and a spirit of peace for our neighborhoods. Help us to be the hands and feet of Your love, moving toward those in need with kindness and courage. Soften our hearts where they have hardened, and lead us in the way of Your peace. Amen.

Yours, in Christ,

Pastor Karleen

God's Power: Hidden Power

He put before them another parable: “The kingdom of heaven may be compared to someone who sowed good seed in his field; but while everybody was asleep, an enemy came and sowed weeds among the wheat, and then went away. So when the plants came up and bore grain, then the weeds appeared as well. And the slaves of the householder came and said to him, ‘Master, did you not sow good seed in your field? Where, then, did these weeds come from?’ He answered, ‘An enemy has done this.’ The slaves said to him, ‘Then do you want us to go and gather them?’ But he replied, ‘No; for in gathering the weeds you would uproot the wheat along with them. Let both of them grow together until the harvest; and at harvest time I will tell the reapers, Collect the weeds first and bind them in bundles to be burned, but gather the wheat into my barn.’”

He put before them another parable: “The kingdom of heaven is like a mustard seed that someone took and sowed in his field; it is the smallest of all the seeds, but when it has grown it is the greatest of shrubs and becomes a tree, so that the birds of the air come and make nests in its branches.”

He told them another parable: “The kingdom of heaven is like yeast that a woman took and mixed in with three measures of flour until all of it was leavened.”

Jesus told the crowds all these things in parables; without a parable he told them nothing. This was to fulfill what had been spoken through the prophet:

“I will open my mouth to speak in parables;
    I will proclaim what has been hidden from the foundation of the world.”

Then he left the crowds and went into the house. And his disciples approached him, saying, “Explain to us the parable of the weeds of the field.” He answered, “The one who sows the good seed is the Son of Man; the field is the world, and the good seed are the children of the kingdom; the weeds are the children of the evil one, and the enemy who sowed them is the devil; the harvest is the end of the age, and the reapers are angels. Just as the weeds are collected and burned up with fire, so will it be at the end of the age. The Son of Man will send his angels, and they will collect out of his kingdom all causes of sin and all evildoers, and they will throw them into the furnace of fire, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth. Then the righteous will shine like the sun in the kingdom of their Father. Let anyone with ears listen!  Matthew 13:24-44 (NRSV)

Grace and peace to you from God, our Creator, Redeemer, and Sustainer. Amen.

How many of you have ever heard of Aesop’s Fables? When I was younger, they were some of my favorite little stories to read. Can you remember the names of some of them? The Town Mouse and the Country Mouse; The Owl and the Grasshopper; The Hare and the Tortoise - to name just a few. So, do you remember how they were structured? There would be a short little story that was written to teach a lesson. Then, at the end of each of the stories, there was a short statement that was intended to summarize the lesson of the story.

Here’s one example. The fable of “The Fox and the Grapes.”  

A Fox one day spied a beautiful bunch of ripe grapes hanging from a vine that had grown along the branches of a tree. The grapes seemed ready to burst with juice, and the Fox’s mouth watered as he gazed longingly at them.

The bunch hung from a high branch, and the Fox had to jump for it. The first time he jumped he missed it by a long way. So he walked off a short distance and took a running leap at it, only to fall short once more. Again and again he tried, but in vain.

Now he sat down and looked at the grapes in disgust. “What a fool I am!” he said. “Here I am wearing myself out to get a bunch of sour grapes that are not worth going for.” And off he walked very, very, scornfully.

Moral: There are many who pretend to despise and belittle that which is beyond their reach.

Aesop’s fables are examples of morality tales. Stories told to teach us a lesson or to express some moral idea that is intended to help us be better people.

Today’s lesson from Matthew 13 consists of three small stories. Parables. The Parable of the Weeds in the Field, the Parable of the Mustard Seed, and the Parable of the Leaven or the Yeast. It’s easy for us to fall into the trap of thinking that parables are like Aesop’s fables. That they are morality tales - ethical stories intend to teach us the right and wrong about God’s kingdom. To tell us the right and wrong ways to live in God’s kingdom. 

But parables are not morality tales. They are not intended to give us clear answers. In fact, they are just the opposite. They are intended to challenge our thinking. To raise questions for us. To make us doubt. 

Perhaps the best definition of a parable is found on the front page of your insert. It is a definition from C. H. Dodd, written originally in 1936. “At its simplest, a parable is a metaphor or simile drawn from nature or common life, arresting the hearer by its vividness or strangeness, and leaving the mind in sufficient doubt about its precise application to tease it [the mind] into active thought.” Parables are not intended to give us easy answers. So, if in reading a parable, you reach an easy interpretation, then you are probably missing the entire point.

So, let’s see how this definition fits with the three parables in today’s lesson. First, it is a metaphor that is drawn from nature or common life. Now, it is important to understand that the entire parable - not just the elements in it - are the metaphor. In Jesus’ teaching, parables are usually metaphors for God’s reign. This is so in today’s parables. For example, the reign of God is not being compared just to a mustard seed. But, it’s being compared to the entire metaphor - to the whole story.

Within each parable there will be symbols or content that will be familiar to the listener. It’s why, in Jesus’ parables, so many of them are focused on farming, because Jesus was in the rural areas outside of Jerusalem, preaching in an agricultural area. Sowing seed was familiar to them. Making bread with yeast was familiar to them. Weeds growing in fields would have been a common experience for his listeners. 

Second. The parable “arrests the hearer by its vividness or strangeness.” Most parables have a twist to them. An unexpected element. Something uncommon that appears in the image that is drawn from common life. Something that we, with our 21st century sensibilities, might miss if we are not careful. For example, any person living in the rural areas of the ancient Mediterranean world would have know that there is no such thing as a mustard “tree.” There were large mustard shrubs, but not trees. 

In another example, the Parable of the Yeast opens with a woman using leaven. This would not be unusual for the listeners, who would assume that she was making the daily loaf of bread for her family. But, what would catch their attention, would be the amount of flour she was using. Three measures, our story tells us. This is the equivalent of about 60 pounds of flour. An amount that would easily make over a hundred loaves of bread.

And, then, there is the Parable of the Weeds. If you truly wanted to ruin someone’s field, would planting weeds really be the best strategy? Wouldn’t you, instead, pull out the wheat? And, certainly, every gardener know that you pull the weeds as soon as you see them to help your crop grow better. But, in this parable, the farmer waits until the harvest is ready to gather, to separate and, then, burn the weeds.

Third aspect of the definition. The parable "leaves the mind in sufficient doubt about its precise interpretation or application." This is the signal that these are not simply morality tales. Instead of giving us that “Aha!” moment, they give us a big “Huh?” This was clearly evident last week in our conversation in Adult Forum on the Parable of the Weeds. There were a lot of questions. And not very many answers. Which is exactly what the parable is intended to do. To create question or doubt in our minds about the precise meaning. It’s no wonder why, in the ancient world, the word “parable” meant riddle.

Fourth and final part of the definition. The purpose of the parable is "to tease the mind into active thought" even to the point of altering one’s world-view. This means that parables are intended to create puzzlement for us about the overall logic of the story. It makes no sense. Yet, if we remember that parables are intended to help us understand God’s reign, and, if we remember from the Jesus’ first teaching in the Sermon on the Mount about how God’s reign is a great reversal from that of the world - where things are upside-down, where the priorities of God’s kingdom are completely opposite from those of the world - then, and only then, will we begin to understand the parable and, particularly, the parable as a metaphor for the unexpected nature of God’s reign.

So, what is the answer then for today’s lesson? I would first suggest that there might be many different interpretations. Our understanding of each parable is often dependent upon where we see ourselves in the story. That understanding can be turned completely upside down if we put ourselves in another place in the story. So, there could likely be many possibilities.

Let me, however, suggest a couple. First, the Parable of the Weeds is not at all about who gets into heaven and who doesn’t. Notice, in Jesus’ interpretation of it later for the disciples, he leaves out one of the key images of the story. The sower is the Son of the human. The field is the world. The good seed are the children of God’s reign. The enemy is the evil one. The bad seed are the children of the evil one. But, who are the slaves? This missing element would likely have invited Jesus’ disciples to see themselves represented in the parable by the slaves. Slaves who were concerned about the field (or the world). Who asked if they should do something about the weeds and were told no. This is reminder for us of the “already and not yet” nature of God’s kingdom. The “already” which requires us to live in the tension of a world where both good and evil exist. And the “not yet” which is a picture of the future fullness of God’s reign, where only good will exist. It is not our job to resolve the tension between the already and the not yet. It is the work of the farmer - of God’s Son - and not ours to resolve it.

And then, there are the two, nearly synonymous, parables about growth. Both of these parables are built around the image of contrast - that tiny beginnings mask the hidden power of God to bring about endings of growth that is beyond our own wildest imagination. That the beginning will be radically different from the ending. As Wes Allen, a New Testament professor at Lexington Theological Seminary writes, “To be a follower of Christ is to know God’s reign on earth already, but not fully, to know the mustard seed, but not yet the mustard tree. We live in the light of God’s salvific and liberating providence, but in the midst of the oppression of the reign of Caesar with all of the poverty, suffering, evil and death that comes with it.”

This is what the reign of God looks like. In the present already and the future not yet. It's what these parables point to.

Let us live into that tension and continue our work as God’s people, trusting in the light of God’s saving grace and in the hidden power of God to bring about the fullness of God’s kingdom. May it be so! Amen. 

Preached February 17, 2019, at Grace & Glory Lutheran Church, Goshen, KY.
Epiphany 6.
Readings: Matthew 13:24-44, Psalm 84:1-7.

Treasure Hunting: Our Hearts and Worry

“Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust consume and where thieves break in and steal; but store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust consumes and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.

“The eye is the lamp of the body. So, if your eye is healthy, your whole body will be full of light; but if your eye is unhealthy, your whole body will be full of darkness. If then the light in you is darkness, how great is the darkness!

“No one can serve two masters; for a slave will either hate the one and love the other, or be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and wealth.

“Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing? Look at the birds of the air; they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? And can any of you by worrying add a single hour to your span of life? And why do you worry about clothing? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not clothed like one of these. But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which is alive today and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will he not much more clothe you—you of little faith? Therefore do not worry, saying, ‘What will we eat?’ or ‘What will we drink?’ or ‘What will we wear?’ For it is the Gentiles who strive for all these things; and indeed your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things. But strive first for the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.

“So do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will bring worries of its own. Today’s trouble is enough for today.Grace and peace to you from God, our abundant Creator, and from our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. Amen. Matt. 6:19-34 (NRSV)

Money. That is central to what we are talking about for the next three weeks. Money. Does this subject make you as uncomfortable as it makes me?

Our focus during this time will center around this overall theme of “treasure in heaven.” And, then, each week, we will look at a different text from each of the three synoptic gospels: Matthew, Mark and Luke. We’ll be looking at three different contexts, three different emphases, and then, in particular, three different challenges. Three different things that challenge us in our relationship with God and with money and, especially that challenge our generosity. These three things are worry, grief, and fear.

Does anyone here have a dollar bill on them? Or it can be a bill of any denomination? (In today’s cashless world, these is getting harder and harder to find, isn’t it?) When you look at the bill, what do you see? Amount of bill, former leader, words “In God We Trust.” 

In God We Trust. (Just a little bit of trivia here, but did you know that the requirement to use these words on every denomination of American currency was passed in 1956, not really that long ago.) Isn’t it a little ironic that, on the very thing that causes so much tension and conflict in our lives, in our relationships, in our work, and, yes, right here in our church--on the actual money we use day in and day out are these words: In God we trust. Because it is money and the power of money that is one of the things that we struggle with the most in our relationship with God. 

We worry about money constantly, don’t we? What worries you most about your money? We worry about how much we have. Or don’t have. We worry about the power it has in our lives. We worry about how much time we spend earning it. As we get older, we even worry about what we will do with it after we die. Money or our worry over money is one of the highest causes of anxiety and conflict in our relationships.

We worry constantly about money. It’s why Jesus talk about money ALL THE TIME. 

I really dislike preaching about money. Maybe it would be different if I had it all figured out. But, I don’t. And I worry about it. I come from a long line of worry-ers, in fact. And I have graciously passed my practice of worrying onto my son. It is just easy to worry over it, isn’t. This constant question of how much I should save. Or how much, especially for us in the church, I should give away.

And, then, as though the answer was easy, Jesus simply says, “Don’t worry!” Yeah, right!

And, yet, it really comes down to whether or not we believe the words we find on our own currency--the words, ”In God We Trust.”  Because to trust in God is to believe that there is enough in our world. That God cares abundantly for our world and has provided enough for each one of us. The word we often uses to talk about this is “providence,” God’s providence. To believe in God’s providence is to believe, no matter what, God will care for and protect us. That God will provide for us what we need. (Notice, I said need. Not want.) It’s what we pray for each time we say the Lord’s Prayer. “Give us this day our daily bread.” Notice that the focus in this prayer given to us by Jesus is on today. Not tomorrow, but today. Give us this day our daily bread.

Haven’t you experienced this? Haven’t you experienced God’s providence in your own life? I know I have. In my late 20’s, after my husband and I separated, I had physical custody of my son. It was expensive to pay for rent and utilities for us and for food and clothing for us all by myself. There were many times that my paycheck ran out days before my next payday and I had no idea where our next meal might come from. Where my next tank of gas might come from. Or how I might keep the lights on over our heads. And, yet, there was never a time that we didn’t have enough to survive. That somehow, something or someone would show up in our lives at just the right time with just what we needed. Coincidence? Maybe. But it happened so much then and throughout my life that it is way beyond coincidence. That I can attribute it only to God and God’s providence. That it is a God-thing.

God cares abundantly for our world. God has provided enough for everyone. What then, we might ask, about those who don’t have enough in their lives? About the poor? Or the disadvantaged? After all, we see them all the time here at Grace & Glory. Our food pantry clients. Others who come to us asking for money or for a tank of gas. If God provides enough for everyone, then, why are their people like this in our world.

The simple answer? Sin. Because sin tells us that there isn’t enough in our world. That there isn’t enough for everyone. Sin leads us to worry, to live in anxiety. Sin leads us to a mindset of scarcity. That we need to hold onto our stuff. Sin leads to hoarding. Sin separates us from right relationship with God.

“Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth…” Jesus says in our text today. “...[B]ut store up for yourselves treasures in heaven.”

Jesus tells us to “strive toward the kingdom.” To trust in God’s providence and to strive for the kingdom. To trust that God will care for us. That God has created enough for us and for everyone else. To stop worrying. And to move from a place of scarcity to a place of abundance. From an orientation of hoarding to an orientation of sharing.  To think, “If I have too much, it means that someone else probably doesn’t have enough.”  

At the beginning of our service today, you made a list of things that belong to you. Pick one now. Think about how you might use that one thing right now to help other people or to worship God. 

When we change our heart. Or our minds. When we change our orientation from one of scarcity to one of abundance and of trust in God’s providence, this creates a whole new appreciation of how we hold things in common with each other. It is a system of economics that we may not understand or that might not seem at all reasonable according to the ways of our world, but it is one that, as Walter Brueggemann writes, will eventually “blow our socks off.”  

Because God is abundant. God is gracious. And God loves us and proves that love for us on the cross. That, my friends, is our treasure. That is what are to seek and what we are to strive for--a deeper faith in a God who has given us everything. Everything. Including God’s very own life. For us and for all people.

Strive first for the kingdom of God and God’s righteousness. And all these things will be given to you as well. Amen.

Preached August 19, 2018, at Grace & Glory Lutheran Church, Goshen, KY
13th Sunday after Pentecost
Readings: Matthew 6:19-34 (Psalm 51:6-9)

Ruth--A Story for Our Time: New Life

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

Before I move into today’s Gospel lesson, I thought it might be helpful for us to have a little review. We’ve been in the book of Ruth for four weeks. Today, will be our last in the series that we’ve called, “Ruth--A Story for Our Time.”

So, do any of you remember back to that first week of this series? What was happening in the story? It was a chaotic time--when the judges ruled. A time when “each person did what they thought was right.” (Judges 21.25) There was a famine. Naomi and her husband, Elimelech, moved from Bethlehem to Moab because of famine. They were strangers in a new land, trying to adapt, trying to fit in. While there they had two sons, Mahlon and Chilion. 

What happened while they were in Moab? Elimelech died unexpectedly. Then, after Mahlon and Chilion were married, they, too, died unexpectedly. With no children, no heirs, to pass on their line. This left Naomi and Ruth and Orpah all by themselves. Widows. Childless. Vulnerable. Naomi decided to move back to her ancestral home. Ruth, even though she was a Moabite and would be a foreigner in Israel, chose to move with Naomi. 

Do you recall the last words of Naomi in the first chapter? “Don’t call me Naomi, but call me Mara, for the Almighty has made me very bitter. I went away full, but the Lord has returned me empty.” Even with Ruth, this brave and courageous daughter-in-law standing at her side, Naomi still called herself bitter. And empty.

Over the next couple of chapters, we saw Ruth at work, didn’t we? Needing to find a way to ensure, not only her security, but also that of her mother-in-law. So, she began to glean in the fields of a man named...Do any of you remember his name?...of a man named Boaz. Who, as it turned out, was kin--family--to Naomi. He was a relative of Naomi’s deceased husband, Elimelech. We saw the generosity of Boaz to Ruth--a woman who was not only a widow and childless, which would have put her on the fringes of the community there. But, also an immigrant, which would have made her triply vulnerable. 

And, then, last week, Ruth, knowing she needed to ensure greater security for herself and for Naomi...engaging in a scandalous act. A seduction really. Something that would have been completely inappropriate for any woman of her time, much less for an immigrant woman. A counter-cultural act. Proposing marriage to Boaz. Challenging him to fulfill his obligation to her and to Naomi to be their kinsman-redeemer. Their go-el. This tradition--in fact, this command from God--that required the next closest male kin to marry the widow, to ensure her safety and security and her future.

So, Boaz agrees. Except there is one little complication. Boaz is not quite the next-of-kin. He is the next next-of-kin. So, under the law, he is required to take this situation to Naomi’s next-of-kin. This is where our story picks up this morning.

We read from Ruth, chapter 4, from the Common English Bible translation:

Meanwhile, Boaz went up to the gate and sat down there. Just then, the redeemer about whom Boaz had spoken was passing by. He said, “Sir, come over here and sit down.” So he turned aside and sat down. Then he took ten men from the town’s elders and said, “Sit down here.” And they sat down.

Boaz said to the redeemer, “Naomi, who has returned from the field of Moab, is selling the portion of the field that belonged to our brother Elimelech. I thought that I should let you know and say, ‘Buy it, in the presence of those sitting here and in the presence of the elders of my people.’ If you will redeem it, redeem it; but if you won’t redeem it, tell me so that I may know. There isn’t anyone to redeem it except you, and I’m next in line after you.”

He replied, “I will redeem it.”

Then Boaz said, “On the day when you buy the field from Naomi, you also buy Ruth the Moabite, the wife of the dead man, in order to preserve the dead man’s name for his inheritance.”

But the redeemer replied, “Then I can’t redeem it for myself, without risking damage to my own inheritance. Redeem it for yourself. You can have my right of redemption, because I’m unable to act as redeemer.”

In Israel, in former times, this was the practice regarding redemption and exchange to confirm any such matter: a man would take off his sandal and give it to the other person. This was the process of making a transaction binding in Israel. Then the redeemer said to Boaz, “Buy it for yourself,” and he took off his sandal.

Boaz announced to the elders and all the people, “Today you are witnesses that I’ve bought from the hand of Naomi all that belonged to Elimelech and all that belonged to Chilion and Mahlon. And also Ruth the Moabite, the wife of Mahlon, I’ve bought to be my wife, to preserve the dead man’s name for his inheritance so that the name of the dead man might not be cut off from his brothers or from the gate of his hometown—today you are witnesses.”

Then all the people who were at the gate and the elders said, “We are witnesses. May the Lord grant that the woman who is coming into your household be like Rachel and like Leah, both of whom built up the house of Israel. May you be fertile in Ephrathah and may you preserve a name in Bethlehem. And may your household be like the household of Perez, whom Tamar bore to Judah—through the children that the Lord will give you from this young woman.”

So Boaz took Ruth, and she became his wife.

He was intimate with her, the Lord let her become pregnant, and she gave birth to a son. The women said to Naomi, “May the Lord be blessed, who today hasn’t left you without a redeemer. May his name be proclaimed in Israel. He will restore your life and sustain you in your old age. Your daughter-in-law who loves you has given birth to him. She’s better for you than seven sons.” Naomi took the child and held him to her breast, and she became his guardian. The neighborhood women gave him a name, saying, “A son has been born to Naomi.” They called his name Obed. He became Jesse’s father and David’s grandfather.

These are the generations of Perez: Perez became the father of Hezron, Hezron the father of Ram, Ram the father of Amminadab, Amminadab the father of Nahshon, Nahshon the father of Salmon, Salmon the father of Boaz, Boaz the father of Obed, Obed the father of Jesse, and Jesse the father of David.

It’s kind of funny, the beginning of today’s episode. Here we have two men, two relatives to Naomi. Boaz. And the other, unnamed. In fact, in the Hebrew, he’s called “so-and-so.” “Hey, so-and-so!” Boaz calls him at the beginning of our story. “Hey, so-and-so, I have something I need to talk to you about. But, I need to do it in front of ten elders--a quorum--because I need to ensure that it is a legal transaction.” 

And, so they engage in conversation. Negotiation, really. Just as we have seen so many of these conversations throughout these chapters of Ruth. Conversations in which things are worked out. Issues are resolved. Problems are solved. Conversations that happen like this not only in Ruth, but throughout all of Scripture. People talking to each other. Trying to work things out. And God, often hidden, but still present, at work.

Once this unnamed relative of Naomi's hears that there’s property available, he’s all ears. But, then, when he finds out there is a woman attached to the deal--an immigrant woman, in fact--he walks away. One has to wonder why? Maybe he already had too many wives? Or, more likely, it was because Ruth was a foreigner. An immigrant. After all, in all of the conversation she is called Ruth the Moabite. It’s almost her scarlet letter, isn’t it?

But “so-and-so’s” loss is Boaz’s gain! Because for him, the land isn’t as important as the woman. A woman whom he has seen and named as a woman of worth. So, Boaz and Ruth are married. And, then, our story reads, “God let her become pregnant.” They had a son. They’re firstborn son. Whom they named, Obed. 

If we go back throughout this story of Ruth and the conversations that happened, do you wonder what the characters were feeling as they were taking place? What was Naomi thinking as she told both Ruth and Orpah to stay in Moab? Was she anxious about how people in her homeland might respond to her daughters-in-law? Her foreign daughters-in-law?

Or what about Ruth when she made her marriage proposal to Boaz? One has to wonder--knowing how completely countercultural her proposal was--whether she felt anxious? What if he had said no? What if he had dismissed her because she was an immigrant? A foreigner?  

And, then, what of this conversation today, between Boaz and “so-and-so?” How anxious was Boaz feeling, going into this negotiation? Not knowing how it might end up. But hoping, against all hope, that he would walk away and be able to marry Ruth. 

How many conversations do you enter into that you are anxious about? A little nervous? Not knowing what will happen. Whether the conversation might go wrong and make things worse. Or if it might go well. Or somewhere in between. 

I have to confess to you that, this past Wednesday evening, as Pastor Lisa and I were preparing for our Sacred Conversation--our deliberative dialogue--around this very difficult topic of immigration, I was anxious. And nervous. Not knowing what would happen. Whether it would go well. Or not so well. Whether people would even show up. Even want to try to engage around a hot topic. Maybe, if you attended, you felt the same way. 

As the evening progressed, though--as we between to talk to each other, to listen and to be open to learning new things, I have to say that I began to feel hopeful. That, perhaps, we could do this. That, through our conversation, a new way might appear. That we might find begin to find agreement on things. And to honestly admit the places of tension, of disagreement, yet with some sense of resolve or hope that, even in these places, we might be able to come together. 

By the end of the evening, that hope had turned into something more like joy. As I listened to people laugh and joke with each other, knowing that they might be in different places politically, there was joy in the knowledge that were still sisters and brothers in Christ and that God had been at work in our conversation.  Bringing hope and joy out of anxiety. Bringing new, collaborative possibilities out of old, divisive ways. Bringing fullness out of emptiness. Bringing life out of death. 

Because isn’t that God’s way? Isn’t that God’s hesed? You know that word don’t you--a word meaning steadfast love and faithfulness? Even better, love-in-action. God’s love-in-action. A hesed that reached its fullest for us at the cross. God’s fullest love-in-action. Scandalous. Counter-cultural. Life-giving for us. And bring us fullness out of emptiness. 

And, that, my friends, is what this story of Ruth has been all about. God’s hesed. How God has worked behind the scenes and through the conversations in this story to bring, especially for Naomi, fullness out of her emptiness. Hope out of loss. Joy out of bitterness. New life out of death. A grandson, who will be in the ancestral line of the King of Kings--our Savior, Jesus Christ. 

This is a story for our time. It is a way of being together for our time. It is God’s way. A way of love-in-action. 

Thanks be to God! Amen.

Preached at Grace & Glory Lutheran Church and Shiloh United Methodist Church, Goshen, KY.
Pentecost 12
Readings: Ruth 4:1-22 (Luke 1:46-55)