Presence and Promise: The Promise of LIfe

Over these past two weeks, we’ve seen these visions of the heavenly throne room. In the first week, we had this image of God, the Creator. A God we’ve been introduced to over and over in the prophets. God, at the center of the universe, surrounded by the heavenly council and the four living creatures, who represent humanity and all of creation - all of whom are singing these songs of praise to God. Songs that we sing in our liturgy and our hymns: holy, holy, holy.

Week Two brought us the image of the Lamb. The One worthy to open the scroll in God’s hand - the master plan by which God would redeem and restore us and all creation. Once again, we heard of the praise of heaven and earth for this Lamb - Worthy is Christ the Lamb who was slain.

Today, these scenes of praise and celebration give way to threatening visions. As the Lamb begins to open the seals of the scroll, we experience a series of seven threatening visions. One of which - perhaps the most threatening vision for us of all - is the basis for the first part of today’s reading. In Revelation, chapter 6. 

Then I looked on as the Lamb opened one of the seven seals. I heard one of the four living creatures say in a voice like thunder, “Come!” So I looked, and there was a white horse. Its rider held a bow and was given a crown. And he went forth from victory to victory.

When the Lamb opened the second seal, I heard the second living creature say, “Come!” Out came another horse, fiery red. Its rider was allowed to take peace from the earth so that people would kill each other. He was given a large sword.

When he opened the third seal, I heard the third living creature say, “Come!” So I looked, and there was a black horse. Its rider held a balance for weighing in his hand. I heard what sounded like a voice from among the four living creatures. It said, “A quart of wheat for a denarion, and three quarts of barley for a denarion, but don’t damage the olive oil and the wine.”

When he opened the fourth seal, I heard the voice of the fourth living creature say, “Come!” So I looked, and there was a pale green horse. Its rider’s name was Death, and the Grave was following right behind. They were given authority over a fourth of the earth, to kill by sword, famine, disease, and the wild animals of the earth.

These are the threats that are real. They are as real for us today as they were for people in the first century. These are the things that strip away any sense of security we might have. Each of them represented by one of the four horsemen. 

The first horseman in white represents the threat of conquest. 

How secure are we as a nation? The people reading John’s Revelation lived in the most secure nation on earth. Much like we do today. They, like us, took this for granted. Yet, as we have learned in these past many months, our nation’s security can easily be undermined. It is more tenuous than we realize. Unexpected and unseen forces, whether from outside or from inside our nation’s borders continuously threaten our national security. How secure are is our nation? This is the potential threat represented by the first horsemen.

The second horseman in fiery red represents the threat of violence - the violence we do to each other. It asks the question, “How secure are you in your community or even in your own home?” This is a threat that keeps us up at night. That causes such anxiety. How do we keep ourselves or our families safe? This is the threat that leads us to trust in weapons and in security systems that often give us a false sense of security. How safe really are you and your loved ones from violence?

The third horseman in black represents the threat of food shortage or of economic hardship. Isn’t this another threat that keeps us up at night? Where will the money come from? For food, for shelter, for those basic needs to, once again, keep us safe. How secure is your family economically? We live in one of the richest countries in the world, but as we see greater and greater economic inequality and insecurity in our nation. How secure are each of us really? One or two paychecks away from financial ruin. One stock market crash away from economic failure. How secure are you and your loved ones financially?

The fourth horseman in pale green represents the threat of death. How secure is your health or your life? This is perhaps the most frightening for all of us. Whether it is a cancer diagnosis, a heart attack or a stroke or the continuing threat of the pandemic, this threat of the loss of our health or of our lives terrifies us. 

Each of these four horsemen present threats that remind us of how vulnerable we really are. Over and over again, they ask the question, “How secure are you? No, really! How secure are you and those you love?” They lead us, like the writer of Revelation before the final seal is opened, to ask this question: who can stand in the face of these threats? How can we survive?

The answer is in the second part of our reading today. From Revelation, chapter 7.

After this I looked, and there was a great crowd that no one could number. They were from every nation, tribe, people, and language. They were standing before the throne and before the Lamb. They wore white robes and held palm branches in their hands. They cried out with a loud voice:

“Victory belongs to our God
       who sits on the throne,
            and to the Lamb.”

All the angels stood in a circle around the throne, and around the elders and the four living creatures. They fell facedown before the throne and worshipped God, saying,

“Amen! Blessing and glory
        and wisdom and thanksgiving
        and honor and power and might
            be to our God forever and always. Amen.”

Then one of the elders said to me, “Who are these people wearing white robes, and where did they come from?”

I said to him, “Sir, you know.”

Then he said to me, “These people have come out of great hardship. They have washed their robes and made them white in the Lamb’s blood. This is the reason they are before God’s throne. They worship him day and night in his temple, and the one seated on the throne will shelter them. They won’t hunger or thirst anymore. No sun or scorching heat will beat down on them, because the Lamb who is in the midst of the throne will shepherd them. He will lead them to the springs of life-giving water, and God will wipe away every tear from their eyes.” --Revelation 6:1-8; 7:9-17 (CEB)

Who can stand? Who can stand in the face of these threats? John sees who can stand: those who have been redeemed by the Lamb. You and I and believers across time. We can stand. 

It does not mean that these threats are not real. Or that they will go away. We have over this past year and a half been witness to every one of these threats. We have experienced every one of them. 

But, the promise here is that, even in the face of conquest or violence or economic hardship or illness or death - the promise we have is that of life. It is this promise that allows us to stand in the face of these threats, knowing and trusting that, ultimately, God’s purpose is one of life. No more hunger or thirst. No sun or scorching heat. No more tears. A promise for you and for me. For all people and for all time. 
Blessing and glory and wisdom and thanksgiving and honor and power and might be to our God forever and always. Amen.

Preached August 22, 2021, at Grace & Glory Lutheran, Prospect, and Third Lutheran, Louisville.

13th Sunday after Pentecost

Readings: Revelation 6:1-8; 7:9-17; John 14:1-4

God's Plan for Peace: Practicing Peace

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

Today, with our reading from the prophet Micah, we make a shift. It’s actually our third shift this fall. We began in September in the Torah - those first five books of the Hebrew scripture that are the instruction manual for Israel - instructions that teach them about who God is and who they are to be in relationship with God. 

In October, we shifted into the historical books of the Old Testament. The books that tell us about the history of God’s chosen people, Israel. About their nation and their leadership. And, especially about Kings David and Solomon. Then, last week, in our story of the Prophet Elisha and Naaman, we began to make a shift - a transition that becomes complete today - from the historical books of the Hebrew scriptures to the prophets. Books like Isaiah. And Jeremiah. And Habakkuk (that’s one we don’t read often!). And, today, from the Prophet Micah.

So, what do we know about Micah? Anyone? He is in the list of those we call the “minor prophets.” Now that’s not intended to be a derogatory term. It just refers to the length of the prophets’ writing. The smaller books are called the minor prophets. Books like Hosea, and Joel, and Amos, and, of course, Micah. These are in contrast to the larger books, what we call the “major prophets” - like Isaiah and Jeremiah and a few others.

Micah is what we call a pre-exilic prophet. This means that he lived and wrote in the times before the fall of Jerusalem and the exile of the Jewish people. 

Last week, we talked about how, after Solomon’s reign, the conflict between the northern and southern tribes of Israel had grown to the point that the kingdom split in two. Permanently. In the north was the kingdom of Israel. The capital of the northern nation of Israel was Samaria. 

The southern kingdom was known as Judah, named after one of the twelve tribes. Its capital was Jerusalem. Elisha, whom we learned about last week, was a prophet in the northern kingdom of Israel. He had been sent to the northern tribes to warn them about the coming threat at their northern border by the Assyrians.  

By the time we get to Micah, about 100 years has passed. Israel and its capital city, Samaria, have fallen to the Assyrians in the north. In a series of power-building moves, Assyria had proceeded to move south and annex more territory. This included lands near Jerusalem - tribes who had refused to pay tribute to Assyria. The Assyrians are edging closer and closer to Jerusalem. The only thing, so far, that has helped Jerusalem avoid the fate of its neighbors to the north is that its king - Hezekiah - has agreed to pay tribute to Assyria, so that Jerusalem can remain independent.

But, there is a another threat, a growing threat, to Jerusalem coming from the south. The Babylonians are approaching. It is at this point in time where we first hear from Micah. He was a contemporary of Isaiah. The difference between the two of them was that Isaiah was a city boy - born in Jerusalem. And Micah, well, we might call him that “country bumpkin.” He was from a small, rural village in the south, called Moresheth. So, you can imagine the response to him by those in the city - in sophisticated Jerusalem - as he warned them of impending doom. A warning in the opening verses of Micah. 

Look! The Lord is coming out from his place;
        he will go down and tread on the shrines of the earth.
Then the mountains will melt under him;
        the valleys will split apart,
            like wax yielding to the fire,
            like waters poured down a slope.
All this is for the crime of Jacob
        and the sins of the house of Israel.
        Who is responsible for the crime of Jacob?
                Isn’t it Samaria?
            Who is responsible for the shrines of Judah?
                Isn’t it Jerusalem? Micah 1:3-5 (CEB)

Micah was trying to warn Jerusalem that it would soon suffer the same fate as Samaria in the north. That it would fall, like the north, because of its sin - because of its idolatry and, particularly, of its injustice. This was the primary focus of Micah’s challenge to them. The injustice that its leaders engaged in. Political. And religious leaders. Micah claims its rulers abhor justice. And pervert equity. They are susceptible to bribes. Its priests, he says, teach for a price. They offer visions for a price. They prophesy “peace” to those who pay them well. But declare war against those who do not pay. 

Both the political and the religious leaders have an inherent desire for power. They can all be bought for a price. Their priorities are to gain power and wealth for themselves and not to practice justice for the community they serve. They destroy the people who depend upon them. They devour them. They use them. They abuse them.

Power can be a very seductive thing. Abusing it even more so. When, I worked in the courts in the 1990’s, we saw it. Frequently. We jokingly called it “black robe disease.” When a judge became seduced by his or her own power and began to abuse and misuse it.  Often completely unaware that they had caught the disease. Because power is not only seductive, it is deceptive.

This is what Micah was confronting the leaders about. Because he knew that corrupt leaders are sometimes responsible for the fall of nations. And churches. And so Micah speaks the prophetic word. Word that is intended to enrich the life of the whole community. Word that is, particularly, about justice and equity for those who are powerless.

But, Micah’s word is not only gloom and doom. It is also one of hope. Micah goes to Jerusalem, not to destroy their hope, but to re-center it. To give the people a vision of the future, a vision of hope. We read in chapter 5.

As for you, Bethlehem of Ephrathah,
    though you are the least significant of Judah’s forces,
        one who is to be a ruler in Israel on my behalf will come out from you.
    His origin is from remote times, from ancient days.
Therefore, he will give them up
        until the time when she who is in labor gives birth.
        The rest of his kin will return to the people of Israel.
He will stand and shepherd his flock in the strength of the Lord,
        in the majesty of the name of the Lord his God.
        They will dwell secure,
        because he will surely become great throughout the earth;
        he will become one of peace.  Micah 5:2-5a (CEB)

We hear these words - these words often from Advent - we hear them with 20/20 hindsight. Yet, for Israel, they were a reminder of God’s faithfulness. Of how God had previously kept God’s promises to them, delivering them out of slavery, and raising up a lowly shepherd from Bethlehem, Jesse’s son. King David. Micah’s words were a reminder for them of God’s steadfast love and faithfulness. And, yet, they were also a new promise - a promise of a new king, one who would rule the earth. And One who would bring peace.  

It is to these words of hope, then, that the people respond. From Micah, chapter 6. 

With what should I approach the Lord
        and bow down before God on high?
Should I come before him with entirely burned offerings,
        with year-old calves?
Will the Lord be pleased with thousands of rams,
        with many torrents of oil?
Should I give my oldest child for my crime;
        the fruit of my body for the sin of my spirit?
He has told you, human one, what is good and
        what the Lord requires from you:
            to do justice, to love mercy, and walk humbly with your God.  Micah 6:6-8 (CEB)


“What do you want from us?” This is really the question they are asking. Perhaps they are bargaining, sensing that they are in the midst of a massive national upheaval. They feel the threat and understand the need to be saved. “What do you want from us?" they ask. And then they begin their offers. Offers that begin with a year-old calf, which would be a normal offering, like a tithe. But, then, offers that become extraordinary. From thousands of rams and many streams of oil - massive offerings - to the very personal. Pieces of themselves. Their first-born children. 

“What do you want from us?” the leaders ask. 

It’s simple, Micah tells them. What the Lord requires is very simple. Three things. To do justice. To love kindness. And to walk humbly with God. Three things that are so simple. But, three things that are not easy.

You and I - we have that gift of hindsight. We know that God’s plan for peace would not rely on Judah’s leaders, or on us, to do these three things. We know that God’s plan for peace would be a one-sided plan. One in which God would come down to us, as God always does, in the most humble way - as a child. A child who would grow up to bear our sin and the sins of the whole world. Who would die on the cross for us. And, through whom, we would understand the true nature of God. Grace. Forgiveness. Love. And peace.

Because that is God’s dream. A dream of peace. It is also our best response in a world that for us, too, seems to be in great upheaval. But, how do we do these three simple things, especially when we know they are not easy. Sometimes, we find deep truth in places other than scripture. In simple places. In children’s books, such as in one written by Desmond Tutu, entitled, “God’s Dream.” 

May we, who have been freed through God’s grace, continue to do God’s work. Of justice. Of kindness. Of walking humbly with our God. So that God might smile and we might see more rainbows. Amen.

Preached November 11, 2018, at Grace & Glory Lutheran Church, Goshen, KY.
Pentecost 25
Readings: Micah 1:3-5, 5:2-5a, 6:6-8; Matt. 9:13

Good News Spreads: Transforming

Meanwhile Saul, still breathing threats and murder against the disciples of the Lord, went to the high priest and asked him for letters to the synagogues at Damascus, so that if he found any who belonged to the Way, men or women, he might bring them bound to Jerusalem. Now as he was going along and approaching Damascus, suddenly a light from heaven flashed around him. He fell to the ground and heard a voice saying to him, “Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?” He asked, “Who are you, Lord?” The reply came, “I am Jesus, whom you are persecuting. But get up and enter the city, and you will be told what you are to do.” The men who were traveling with him stood speechless because they heard the voice but saw no one. Saul got up from the ground, and though his eyes were open, he could see nothing; so they led him by the hand and brought him into Damascus. For three days he was without sight, and neither ate nor drank.

Now there was a disciple in Damascus named Ananias. The Lord said to him in a vision, “Ananias.” He answered, “Here I am, Lord.” The Lord said to him, “Get up and go to the street called Straight, and at the house of Judas look for a man of Tarsus named Saul. At this moment he is praying, and he has seen in a vision a man named Ananias come in and lay his hands on him so that he might regain his sight.” But Ananias answered, “Lord, I have heard from many about this man, how much evil he has done to your saints in Jerusalem; and here he has authority from the chief priests to bind all who invoke your name.” But the Lord said to him, “Go, for he is an instrument whom I have chosen to bring my name before Gentiles and kings and before the people of Israel; I myself will show him how much he must suffer for the sake of my name.” So Ananias went and entered the house. He laid his hands on Saul and said, “Brother Saul, the Lord Jesus, who appeared to you on your way here, has sent me so that you may regain your sight and be filled with the Holy Spirit.” And immediately something like scales fell from his eyes, and his sight was restored. Then he got up and was baptized, and after taking some food, he regained his strength. Acts 9:1-19a (NRSV)

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

In our reading last week, we heard the story of how the Good News was beginning to spread. From Mary Magdalene, word of Jesus’ resurrection had spread to Peter and John and, then, last week to the remaining followers, including Thomas. We heard last week how Jesus breathed on the disciples. That he breathed into them the Holy Spirit and commissioned them to continue to spread the Good News. The Good News of the complete reversal that God had performed in raising Jesus from the dead.

This week and for the next few weeks, we are in the book of Acts. This is the book in the Bible that gives us stories of the early church--stories of how this first community of believers lived together and, particularly, stories of how the Good News continued to spread.

In the chapters before today’s lesson, the news of Jesus’s resurrection has spread throughout Jerusalem and beyond. The number of believers has continued to increase greatly in Jerusalem. So much that, as their numbers have grown, so has opposition among the Jewish and Roman leadership. This growing tension reaches a climax with the arrest of Stephen, who gives testimony about Jesus’ death and resurrection and, particularly, about the complicity of the religious and political leadership in his crucifixion. It is this testimony--this truth--that results in Stephen’s stoning and death as the first Christian martyr. It is after his death that we are first introduced to Saul--one of two main characters in our lesson today. We know Saul better as Paul, the apostle to the Gentiles and prolific writer of letters to the various faith communities he helped found throughout the Mediterranean area.

But, before he became Paul, he was Saul. We first hear of him in Acts 7. “Then they (speaking of the people Stephen had angered with his testimony)--then they dragged Stephen out of the city and began to stone him: and the witnesses laid their coats at the feet of a young man named Saul...And Saul approved of their killing him."

After Stephen died, a severe persecution began against the church in Jerusalem. All of the disciples except for the small group of apostles were scattered throughout the countryside of Judea and Samaria. In the third verse of chapter 8, we read that “Saul was ravaging the church by entering house after house; dragging off both men and women” and committing them to prison.

As the disciples were scattered, the Good News continued to spread. Not only throughout the countryside of Judea and Samaria, but also into other places. One of those places was Damascus in Syria. It’s the same Damascus, Syria, we know today. Saul was determined to destroy the new believers, those who belonged to “The Way,” which is what they called this movement. Wherever members of “The Way” went, Saul was determined to go after them and imprison or even kill them. 

The city of Damascus, which was 135 miles away from Jerusalem, was one of his target cities. It was on Saul’s first journey to Damascus to hunt out the people of “The Way” that we witness a great reversal. These reversals are characteristic of the Good News. These moments when God completely disrupts expectations and unexpectedly reverses everything. Reversals that indicate to the early disciples that God is at work. That, when God’s intentions are realized, the normal state of affairs is turned completely upside down.

This is what happens with Saul. He experiences a series of reversals. Of great change. Of transformation. God disrupts his experience along the road to Damascus. He changes from seeing to being blind. From a confident and zealous persecutor to one who confesses ignorance about the “lord” he can’t recognize. From a man planning to lead captives back to Jerusalem in chains to one who must be led into Damascus by others. From having authority over others’ bodies to becoming completely dependent with his own. From a man on a mission to one who must now wait to learn what he is to do next. From a man exercising great power over the church to one who has been completely overpowered. Completely overpowered by Jesus. 

Reversal. Transformation.

But, Saul is not the only one. As we move through our story, we are introduced to Ananias, one of Jesus’ disciples in Damascus. Ananias has heard about Saul and his reputation. So, when Jesus appears to Ananias and tells him to go meet Saul, he argues with Jesus. Unaware of the reversals that Saul has already experienced, Ananias is determined that he will not confront this arch-enemy of his and of all of the other believers of The Way. So, he argues with Jesus. But, Jesus responds. “Go, for he is an instrument who I have chosen to bring my name before Gentiles and kings and before the people of Israel.” 

In his conversation with Ananias, Jesus has redefined Saul for him. Saul’s past or his reputation no longer fully express who he now is. Jesus has chosen Paul as his own “instrument” or, better, “vessel” through which to continue to spread the Good News among those who have not yet heard. And not by himself, but as a member of the community of disciples, as one of the The Way.

Reversal. Transformation.

As part of the process of becoming ordained, I was required to participate in CPE. CPE stands for Clinical Pastoral Experience. It consists of 400 hours of chaplaincy training in a hospital or other care situation, where trainees learn how to provide pastoral care for people who are sick or hospitalized, or in need of help to make meaning of a difficult time or situation in their lives. 

In my CPE training at a hospital in Minneapolis, I was grouped with 4 other trainees. All of us came to the group with no or very little practical experience, other than a class or two we had taken in seminary. After one week of orientation, each of us was assigned as a chaplain to one or two of the medical units in the hospital.  

I was terrified. We were all terrified. None of us felt ready to do this important work. Each week we would meet and process our experiences together and tell each other over and over that we were enough. That each one of us was enough. That God had chosen us as God’s instruments--as God’s vessels--and that, as broken and inexperienced as we were, we were enough. 

By the end of our training, each one of us was transformed. Transformed with the understanding that we were enough and beginning to see all of the possibilities that God had in store for us. 

Reversal. Transformation.

This is what God does. God dramatically re-orients our expectations and causes us to reassess what is possible. God did it with my CPE group. God does it with Saul. God does it with Ananias. God does it with you, too.  You, a broken vessel. A chosen, broken vessel. Chosen by God to come into community here and together do the impossible. 

This is the church that Acts imagines. A gathering of broken vessels chosen by God, coming together in a cooperative existence and building a community that lives into a future that completely defies human expectations. What if God continues to surprise and disrupt us as with the Acts church? To surprise us just as God surprised Saul and Ananias with promises of a different identity and an expanded future? To completely reverse and transform our expectation of what is possible? To nudge us to a new experience with new possibilities?

What if?

Amen.

Preached April 15, 2018, at Grace & Glory Lutheran Church, Goshen, KY.
Fourth Sunday of Easter
Readings: Matthew 6:24; Acts 9:1-19a.

Claiming LIfe

Then he looked up at his disciples and said:

“Blessed are you who are poor,

for yours is the kingdom of God.

“Blessed are you who are hungry now,

for you will be filled.

“Blessed are you who weep now,

for you will laugh.

“Blessed are you when people hate you, and when they exclude you, revile you, and defame you on account of the Son of Man. Rejoice in that day and leap for joy, for surely your reward is great in heaven; for that is what their ancestors did to the prophets.

“But woe to you who are rich,

for you have received your consolation.

“Woe to you who are full now,

for you will be hungry.

“Woe to you who are laughing now,

for you will mourn and weep.

“Woe to you when all speak well of you, 

for that is what their ancestors did to the false prophets.

“But I say to you that listen, Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you. If anyone strikes you on the cheek, offer the other also; and from anyone who takes away your coat do not withhold even your shirt. Give to everyone who begs from you; and if anyone takes away your goods, do not ask for them again. Do to others as you would have them do to you. (Luke 6:20-31 NRSV.)

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

This past summer, as I was nearing the end of my internship and the end of my studies at Luther Seminary, I took a break from reading non-fiction. For nearly five years, it has seemed to me that the only books I’ve read have been those related to school, whether they were about theology, faith formation, church administration, missional leadership, or pastoral care--or any other topic a seminary student needs to know about in order to be a pastor. Or at least to be a beginning pastor.

So, I decided to read through the entire Harry Potter series.

Now I’m sure that I’m probably the only person alive in our world today who, by 2016, had not read any of these remarkable books by author J. K. Rowling. Unless, of course, some of you choose to admit that, too. 

So, over about 6 weeks, I delved into the world of wizardry and Harry Potter. 

The books were fascinating and magical. Frightening, at times. Funny, at others. It was completely worth it and, if you haven’t read them, I really encourage you to do so.

Now, I’m not going to preach on Harry Potter today. But, as I read through our lessons today and, particularly, the lesson from Daniel, about his vision of the four beasts, I couldn't help but think of the Dementors, those foul creatures from the Potter series. They are described as infesting the darkest, filthiest places; glorying in decay and despair; draining peace, hope and happiness out of the air around them. Get too near one and every good feeling, every happy memory will be sucked out of you.

No wonder Daniel’s spirit was troubled within him. And the vision in his head terrified him. 

This seems like a bizarre text for today, doesn’t it?  On this All Saints Day, a day when we remember all those in the faith who have gone before us, who have moved from the Church Militant to the Church Triumphant, those whom we have loved and who have loved us and who, most importantly, have been examples of faith for us, examples of believing in God and trusting in God’s faithfulness. On this All Saints Sunday, this Daniel text just doesn’t seem like a good fit.

Oh, but it is!

In order to understand why it is so appropriate for us today, we have to understand the nature of this text. This portion of Daniel, along with the book of Revelation, is what we call apocalyptic literature. If you’ve ever read any part of Revelation, it can be a terrifying book. I had a parishioner last year who asked me why this book was in the Bible, sharing that it terrified her so much she never read it. 

The function of this type of literature may be unfamiliar to us. It is crisis literature. It is literature written to encourage, to give hope and support in a time of crisis. In Jesus’ day, these passages from Daniel 7 were so widely read at the time, that there grew to be what we might call a Daniel 7 cult. It is from this text that we first hear the term “son of Man.” It is also one of the first anti-empire texts in scripture. 

The beasts in this text represent empires. Empires that, like the Dementors, are sub-human. That drain the life out of our world. They seek to amass great wealth and power and, in the process, destroy our planet, destroy the poor, destroy peace.

It is in response to these destructive, Dementor-like empires that the “son of Man” comes. Here, in Daniel 7 we first hear that term--son of Man. Here in Daniel 7 we also hear the first anti-empire texts in scripture.  Read Daniel 7:13b-14. 

Daniel, troubled and terrified, seeks to understand his vision. In the interpretation, beginning with v. 17, notice that singular son of Man becomes plural. Look at verse 18. No longer does it read the “holy one of the Most High,” but the “holy ones of the Most High.” The saints of the Most High.

One individual sent by God stands up to the powers of empire. In Christ, God breaks into these destructive empires to establish God’s kingdom--a kingdom of justice and peace, a kingdom of love and forgiveness, a kingdom of hope and healing, a kingdom in the fullness of God in Christ.

The inbreaking begins with Christ’s coming. It continues through the work of the holy ones of the Most High--the saints we honor and remember here today. Some of them we read about in Scripture. Some became known across the world. But most, like the saints we remember today, were those who were not famous, not known. But they carried on the work of God’s kingdom. They shared their faith and gave us a glimpse of God’s kingdom so that we, too, might be called the saints of God, members of the body of Christ, the holy ones of the Most High.

We, saints, are citizens of a different kingdom than that of the empires of the world. It is this kingdom that Jesus describes today in our Gospel text. 

It is a kingdom where true power is not shown in dominance, but in service to others. It is a kingdom that calculates worth based on a different standard. Where those with wealth stop working for the systems--the empires--that exploit the poor, instead of continuing to build more wealth. Where those with power, turn away from amassing more of that power to stand in solidarity with the poor and powerless and to seek to change the systems that continue to oppress them.  Where God continues to lift up people who, under the world’s standards, have no business being lifted up. In this kingdom, God continues to lift them up--the poor, the hungry, the grief-stricken--and says to them, “These are the ones who are blessed. These are my people.” 

It’s been a difficult election year in our nation, hasn’t it? It seems as though we have experienced--endured might be a better word--endured one of the ugliest elections in years. One of the most painful parts for me especially has been the insults and recriminations that have flown back and forth between political candidates and their followers, the daily barrage of hostility, cruelty, dismissiveness of “others”, whether women, Catholics, Mexicans, Asians, losers, Republicans, Democrats, Independents, Russians, or Syrians. I have to admit that I, too, have gotten caught up in the back and forth, in the ugliness of this election.

All of this--the insults, the recriminations, the name-calling, the hatred--all of it comes out of fear. It is the same fear that drives us to build walls to keep immigrants out. The same fear that drives us to create economic structures to wall in our profits and project our jobs. The same fear that causes us to protect ourselves and to keep what is ours. It is a fear that divides us and keeps us from experiencing the fullness of life in God’s kingdom and with each other. It is this division that Jesus warns us against in our text today. A division that, like the Dementors, destroys life and sucks away every happy memory, every shred of hope.

In a recent essay, Willie James Jennings, a theologian who graduated from my alma mater, Fuller Seminary, calls on all Americans and, particularly, Christians to “claim the power of life together precisely at the site of threat and fear. Our faith places us inside the actions of a God who faces our dangers and yet refuses to yield to fear. God offers life and invites us to gather courage there, making it a place where God creates community.”

Yielding to fear destroys community. Our Christian faith claims the power of life together precisely at the site of threat and fear.

This is exactly what Jesus’ disciples did in the first century. In the midst of a Roman empire that sought to destroy them, they claimed life right at the point of threat and fear, spreading the Good News throughout the Roman empire and beyond. 

In the same way, Luther claimed life at the point of threat and fear as he stood up to challenge the authority of an empirical church that had lost its way, spreading the Good News throughout the Western world.  

Over and over and over again, we have story after story of saints, known and unknown, who, in the midst of threat and fear, stood up and claimed life--showing the world and us how to imagine better, how to hope once again, and how to acknowledge that our lives and our needs, our safety and shalom are all in God’s hands.

So stand with this whole communion of saints today and claim life. Claim the gift of life that is yours through the death of our Savior Jesus Christ. And then dare to imagine and to engage the world in God’s name. Amen.


Preached on All Saints Sunday, November 6, 2016, at Good Shepherd Lutheran Church, Bastrop, TX.
Texts: Daniel 7:1-3, 15-18; Psalm 149; Ephesians 1:11-23; Luke 6:20-31.
Credit for ideas to WorkingPreacher.org.