Living in the Covenant: Elisha Heals Naaman

It’s easy for us, when we read First and Second Kings, to think of this as a history of Israel. And while these books do tell the story of Israel and the succession of its kings, the author isn’t writing just for the sake of history. The author is as much a theologian (trying to understand things) as he is a historian. He’s writing a prophetic history of how the word of God in the Torah and the prophets was the true story of Israel’s God. So, Kings is written from the perspective of someone living long after the exile of the northern kingdom, the destruction of Jerusalem in the south, and the exile to Babylonian. This theological history seeks to explain why Israel and Judah are in exile - because their kings and their people have resisted the word of God and persisted in their rebellion. Leading all the way up to exile. 

It’s the story we have heard from the beginning of our readings this fall. God creates a world of beauty and shalom for all of God’s creation. Humanity strays and resists God. Then God works to bring us back into relationship. Over and over and over again. This is the story of the Bible. The narrative arc of scripture.

Today, we read a story about Elisha. Elisha, not Elijah. Elisha was the successor prophet to Elijah. This is a hinge text - helping us make our shift from the monarchy - the reign of Israel’s kings - to the prophets, sent by God to confront and correct Israel’s leaders. They were unsuccessful. Israel’s leaders continued to persist in patterns of idolatry, injustice, and rebellion until finally they were completely wiped out. The kings were wiped out. A remnant of the people would continue. A people who would ache for something or someone better.

But, today and for the next two Sundays, we hear stories of the prophets. 

Naaman, a general for the king of Aram, was a great man and highly regarded by his master, because through him the Lord had given victory to Aram. This man was a mighty warrior, but he had a skin disease. Now Aramean raiding parties had gone out and captured a young girl from the land of Israel. She served Naaman’s wife.

She said to her mistress, “I wish that my master could come before the prophet who lives in Samaria. He would cure him of his skin disease.” So Naaman went and told his master what the young girl from the land of Israel had said.

Then Aram’s king said, “Go ahead. I will send a letter to Israel’s king.”

So Naaman left. He took along ten kikkars of silver, six thousand shekels of gold, and ten changes of clothing. He brought the letter to Israel’s king. It read, “Along with this letter I’m sending you my servant Naaman so you can cure him of his skin disease.”

When the king of Israel read the letter, he ripped his clothes. He said, “What? Am I God to hand out death and life? But this king writes me, asking me to cure someone of his skin disease! You must realize that he wants to start a fight with me.”

When Elisha the man of God heard that Israel’s king had ripped his clothes, he sent word to the king: “Why did you rip your clothes? Let the man come to me. Then he’ll know that there’s a prophet in Israel.”

Naaman arrived with his horses and chariots. He stopped at the door of Elisha’s house. Elisha sent out a messenger who said, “Go and wash seven times in the Jordan River. Then your skin will be restored and become clean.”

But Naaman went away in anger. He said, “I thought for sure that he’d come out, stand and call on the name of the Lord his God, wave his hand over the bad spot, and cure the skin disease. Aren’t the rivers in Damascus, the Abana and the Pharpar, better than all Israel’s waters? Couldn’t I wash in them and get clean?” So he turned away and proceeded to leave in anger.

Naaman’s servants came up to him and spoke to him: “Our father, if the prophet had told you to do something difficult, wouldn’t you have done it? All he said to you was, ‘Wash and become clean.’” So Naaman went down and bathed in the Jordan seven times, just as the man of God had said. His skin was restored like that of a young boy, and he became clean.

He returned to the man of God with all his attendants. He came and stood before Elisha, saying, “Now I know for certain that there’s no God anywhere on earth except in Israel. Please accept a gift from your servant.”

But Elisha said, “I swear by the life of the Lord I serve that I won’t accept anything.”

Naaman urged Elisha to accept something, but he still refused. Then Naaman said, “If not, then let me, your servant, have two mule loads of earth. Your servant will never again offer entirely burned offerings or sacrifices to any other gods except the Lord. But may the Lord forgive your servant for this one thing: When my master comes into Rimmon’s temple to bow down there and is leaning on my arm, I must also bow down in Rimmon’s temple. When I bow down in Rimmon’s temple, may the Lord forgive your servant for doing that.” (2 Kings 5:1-18 CEB)

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

Easy peasy lemon squeezy. Ever heard that rhyming phrase before? I heard it for the first time when I was living in Minnesota. Let me tell you - you’ve never really heard it until you’ve listened to someone with a nasally, Midwestern accent say it. You know that “Minnesota friendly accent.” Easy peasy, lemon squeezy. 

Speaking of easy. Do you remember the marketing campaign by Staples office supply store several years ago that had “Easy” as its tag line? I had one of those “easy” buttons on my desk at work. And whenever someone would come into my office and ask me an easy question or for something that was easy for me to do, I would punch the button and say, Easy peasy, lemon squeezy!

But, seriously, we do like things easy peasy, lemon squeezy. In fact, our society is driven by ease and convenience. From fast food. To online banking. To Amazon orders. We want things to be quick and easy. If something is too cumbersome or time-consuming, we shy away from it. And try to find alternatives. Easier alternatives. 

Yet, at the same time, if something is too easy, what do we do? Well, we don’t trust it. Ever heard a conversation like this? Well, that was easy. Yeah, a little too easy if you ask me. Don’t get your hopes up. Haven’t you ever heard the phrase that if something is really worth having, it’s worth waiting for. Or worth the extra effort. Parents, how often have you said that to your kids?

That paradox is what we find in today’s story from Second Kings. 

Naaman is introduced to us as a “great man” and “highly regarded” by his master, King Aram. He is a warrior. A mighty warrior. Who has brought great success to this king of Aramea, one of Israel’s fiercest enemies. He is successful, respected, victorious in battle. If we look closely at these introductory verses we see that, in fact, he has won these battles because the LORD has given victory to him and to the Arameans. The LORD. Immediately we get a sense of the universality of this story - of how God acts not just through God’s own people, but through other nations, as well. And their leaders. Even when they are not aware that God is working through them.

But, Naaman has a nagging problem. He has a skin disease. Robert Alter calls it “skin blanch,” meaning he lacks pigmentation in his skin. 

Because of his “success” on the battlefield, Naaman has a very close relationship with his king. It is also because of one of those same “successes” that Naaman has captured a young Israelite girl who has been brought into his household as a slave to his wife.

The young woman, unnamed and unnoticed, makes a comment to his wife: “I wish that my master could come before the prophet who lives in Samaria. He would cure him of his skin disease.” The word gets to Naaman, who hears the suggestion, but doesn’t really listen to it. Because, rather than go to the prophet, as she suggests, he goes to his king. Which is how the trouble begins. 

The king agrees to send a letter to Israel’s king. Along with it he prepares an incentive. Ten kikkars of silver - worth $252,565 as of yesterday. And 6,000 shekels of gold - at yesterday’s value of $3,530,100. Plus ten changes of clothing. I have no number on that today, but, trust me, they were valuable in that time! So, here’s this huge incentive for Israel’s king to help Naaman be cured. And what happens? The king - interestingly unnamed here - misconstrues King Aram’s action. There’s no love lost between these two nations. Immediately, he suspects a trap. That, when he fails to heal Naaman, the Arameans will attack. 

Enter Elisha. He intervenes to suggest that Naaman come directly to him. And he does. Our text says that Naaman - with his horses and chariots, a full military contingent. (Was it any wonder that Israel’s king was afraid?) - Naaman goes to Elisha’s house and waits outside.

Rather than come out and prescribe healing directly to Naaman, Elisha sends a messenger with a cure. Go wash in the Jordan seven times. Easy peasy lemon squeezy! Naaman is angry. “Couldn’t this cure be a little grander?” he wonders. Why not wash in the rivers in Damascus, which are so much better than the little, muddy Jordan? But, his servants - his servants - talk him down. He goes. And is healed. And converted. “Now I know for certain that there’s no God anywhere on earth except in Israel.”

Do you notice that conversion isn’t required for healing? In fact, the healing comes first. With no demand from Elisha that Naaman worship God. His worship of God comes from his being healed. His being made whole.

Do you also notice the unexpected voices in this story? Those small, seemingly insignificant players? The slave girl. Naaman’s servants. They are ones - rather than those with power and wealth - through whom God seems to be working most fully to ensure Naaman’s healing. How many times do we see this in scripture? How God works through the most powerless to move God’s reign forward.

How have you experienced God working through the unexpected voices, the small, seemingly insignificant saints in your life? Those offering a well-placed word of hope? Or those who simply modeled faithfulness for you? Those are the ones who, especially today, we are remembering. The quiet voices of those most often insignificant to our world. 

But, not to God. Because these are the ones - we heard earlier - these are the ones who made it through the great ordeal. Who now live that promised life of shalom. A life a wholeness. A life of peace and joy. A life in the very presence of God. A life that we will experience one day, too.

Or as St. Paul writes, For now we see in a mirror, dimly, but then we will see face to face. Now we know in part; then we will know fully, even as we have been fully known. (1 Cor. 13:12 NRSV)

May God grant it. Amen.

Preached November 6, 2022, at Grace & Glory, Prospect, with Third, Louisville.

All Saints Sunday

Reading: 2 Kings 5:1-18

Unraveled: Sarah Laughs

The Lord appeared to Abraham at the oaks of Mamre while he sat at the entrance of his tent in the day’s heat. He looked up and suddenly saw three men standing near him. As soon as he saw them, he ran from his tent entrance to greet them and bowed deeply. He said, “Sirs, if you would be so kind, don’t just pass by your servant. Let a little water be brought so you may wash your feet and refresh yourselves under the tree. Let me offer you a little bread so you will feel stronger, and after that you may leave your servant and go on your way—since you have visited your servant.”

They responded, “Fine. Do just as you have said.”

So Abraham hurried to Sarah at his tent and said, “Hurry! Knead three seahs of the finest flour and make some baked goods!” Abraham ran to the cattle, took a healthy young calf, and gave it to a young servant, who prepared it quickly. Then Abraham took butter, milk, and the calf that had been prepared, put the food in front of them, and stood under the tree near them as they ate.

They said to him, “Where’s your wife Sarah?”

And he said, “Right here in the tent.”

Then one of the men said, “I will definitely return to you about this time next year. Then your wife Sarah will have a son!”

Sarah was listening at the tent door behind him. Now Abraham and Sarah were both very old. Sarah was no longer menstruating. So Sarah laughed to herself, thinking, I’m no longer able to have children and my husband’s old.

The Lord said to Abraham, “Why did Sarah laugh and say, ‘Me give birth? At my age?’ Is anything too difficult for the Lord? When I return to you about this time next year, Sarah will have a son.”

Sarah lied and said, “I didn’t laugh,” because she was frightened.

But he said, “No, you laughed.”

The Lord was attentive to Sarah just as he had said, and the Lord carried out just what he had promised her. She became pregnant and gave birth to a son for Abraham when he was old, at the very time God had told him. Abraham named his son—the one Sarah bore him—Isaac. Abraham circumcised his son Isaac when he was eight days old just as God had commanded him. Abraham was 100 years old when his son Isaac was born. Sarah said, “God has given me laughter. Everyone who hears about it will laugh with me.” She said, “Who could have told Abraham that Sarah would nurse sons? But now I’ve given birth to a son when he was old!” --Genesis 18:1-15, 21:1-7 (CEB) 

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

The Festival of the Trinity. The one Sunday and the one topic that every pastor loves to preach on. Yeah, not so much.

Yesterday, as we closed Synod Assembly with worship, we heard a sermon by Deacon Mary Ann Schwabe. She was the representative from churchwide, from the national body of the ELCA, there, among other things, to bring greetings from Presiding Bishop Elizabeth Eaton. She opened her message with a quote about the Holy Trinity. About the impossibility of explaining the Trinity. A quote from Luther, who wrote: "To deny the Trinity is to risk our salvation. To try to explain the Trinity is to risk our insanity."

You see, try as theologians might, we don’t fully understand the Trinity. This Godhead made up of three Persons: Parent/Creator, Son/Redeemer, and Spirit/Sustainer. And to try to explain it is probably, as Luther suggested, inviting insanity.

So, for the moment, I’m not going to try. Although we will return to this topic in just a second or two.

Instead, I’d like to turn to our primary text today - this story about Abraham and Sarah. Really, a story about Sarah. And her laughter.

Early in the week, when I was exegeting this text before leaving for Muncie, I can’t even begin to tell you how many different interpretations and explanations there were about why Sarah laughed in this story. Some suggested she laughed from amusement - from an image of she, at the age of 90, and her husband Abraham, nearing 100, making a baby together. Some suggested that she laughed at the preposterous idea that, at the age of 90, post-menopausal, there was even any remote possibility of her conceiving a child. Others suggested that her laughter came from a place of deep bitterness over the fact that she and Abraham had not had the child - the heir - long promised by God. And yet others wrote that her laughter was from disbelief, from doubt about what the visitor - rather, the three visitors (pay attention to that especially on this Trinity Sunday) predicted - that Sarah was laughing in disbelief, doubt, and perhaps even scorn over the very possibility.

Perhaps all of these explanations of Sarah’s laughter are true, because much had happened before our story today. God had promised Abraham and Sarah to make of them a great nation. Then, after this hadn’t happened and after Sarah had moved beyond child-bearing age, she had taken matters into her own hands, giving Hagar, her servant girl to Abraham. Forcing her into surrogacy. Then, growing jealous when Hagar became pregnant with Ishmael, Abraham’s first-born son. All of this then followed by a visit, at the age of 90, from these three strangers whom we, from the outside looking in, know to be God - strangers who tell her that by next year at this time she will have a son. Her laughter must have come from all of these different places: from amusement, and bitterness, and grief, and even pure glee at the absurdity of it all. 

But, mostly, it would seem, at least to me, that Sarah’s laughter comes from disbelief. From a lack of belief in the future God has promised both her and Abraham. A disbelief that, by the following year, is completely unraveled by the gift of her son, Isaac. Whose very name means “laughter.” 

I mentioned at the beginning of worship this morning that, for 12 weeks, we will be hearing 12 different stories or resilience from Scripture. I don’t know about you, but I’ve been hearing the word - resilience - a lot over the past several months. This past week, I read a definition for this word in a Psychology Today article: Resilience is the psychological quality that allows some people to be knocked down by the adversities of life and come back at least as strong as before. Rather than letting difficulties, or traumatic events, or failure overcome them and drain their resolve, people who are resilient find a way to change course. To heal emotionally. And to continue moving forward.

In a related article I also read that people of faith are often more highly resilient. Because, in some ways, faith is synonymous with hope. Both faith and hope allow us to see a future beyond the present moment. But, it is faith that helps us more readily understand and accept that our present difficulties are part of the path to a better future. That’s the nature of faith. The nature of belief. To be able to see the connections between our present situation and the future. The opposite of this is disbelief. It's disbelief that led, in large part, to Sarah's laughter. Because, after all that had happened, after all she'd experienced, she was no longer able to see the future God had promised for her. And for Abraham. 

I wonder how many people in our world today lack this kind of faith. This belief in the future. And, really, is it any wonder that they do? Every day we are witness to a world that just seems to be struggling. To be hurting so deeply. Even to be falling apart. 

Or maybe it’s not just the world that seems to be so unsettled. Perhaps, we’re experiencing it in our own lives. An unexpected illness. Or a deep loss. Or even confusion about who we are and where we are at in our lives. Where it feels as though the future is so uncertain, so dark and cloudy. Or even, perhaps, when it feels as though there is no future. 

It is then - just as for Sarah - that, as one contemporary theologian puts it, it is then that our loving and relational God, the mysterious Trinity comes and invites us in. To abide in the holy. To admit the difficulties of the present. And the truth of what is unknown. To stop hiding behind false statements and facade of sureness. And to, once again, be reminded of the future God has in store for us. A future of abundance and wholeness. Of lives filled with hope and faith and love. And, especially, of lives that are full of laughter - the joyous laughter that comes from trusting God and living into the hope of that future God has promised for you and me, and for all people - a future given to us through the unexplainable presence and power of God, known as parent and Creator, as Word made flesh, and as life-giving Breath. 

Praise be to God! Amen.

Preached June 12, 2022, at Grace & Glory, Prospect, with Third, Louisville, and New Goshen Presbyterian, Prospect.

Holy Trinity

Readings: Genesis 18:1-15, 21:1-7; Psalm 116:1-2, 12-19

God's Presence Brings Life: Come Home

Ho, everyone who thirsts,
    come to the waters;

and you that have no money,
    come, buy and eat!
Come, buy wine and milk
    without money and without price.
Why do you spend your money for that which is not bread,
    and your labor for that which does not satisfy?
Listen carefully to me, and eat what is good,
    and delight yourselves in rich food.
Incline your ear, and come to me;
    listen, so that you may live.
I will make with you an everlasting covenant,
    my steadfast, sure love for David.
See, I made him a witness to the peoples,
    a leader and commander for the peoples.
See, you shall call nations that you do not know,
    and nations that do not know you shall run to you,
because of the Lord your God, the Holy One of Israel,
    for he has glorified you.

Seek the Lord while he may be found,
    call upon him while he is near;
let the wicked forsake their way,
    and the unrighteous their thoughts;
let them return to the Lord, that he may have mercy on them,
    and to our God, for he will abundantly pardon.
For my thoughts are not your thoughts,
   nor are your ways my ways, says the Lord.
For as the heavens are higher than the earth,
    so are my ways higher than your ways
    and my thoughts than your thoughts.

For as the rain and the snow come down from heaven,
    and do not return there until they have watered the earth,
making it bring forth and sprout,
    giving seed to the sower and bread to the eater,
so shall my word be that goes out from my mouth;
    it shall not return to me empty,
but it shall accomplish that which I purpose,
    and succeed in the thing for which I sent it.

For you shall go out in joy,
    and be led back in peace;
the mountains and the hills before you
    shall burst into song,
    and all the trees of the field shall clap their hands.
Instead of the thorn shall come up the cypress;
    instead of the brier shall come up the myrtle;
and it shall be to the Lord for a memorial,
    for an everlasting sign that shall not be cut off. --Isaiah 55:1-13 (NRSV)

I don’t know if you’re like me, but in the middle of last year’s lockdown I watched - Clarification! - I binge-watched a lot of TV. And I mean a lot. It’s kind of dangerous, I think. Having this access to TV shows and movies and all the other stuff we can now stream whenever we want. 

As we’ve come out of hibernation, the quantity of stuff I’ve been watching has diminished a lot. But, one thing that has kept my attention is YouTube. I continue to follow several YouTube channels. A few on the topic of minimalism. (Yes, it’s true!) A few on tiny houses - making plans for my retirement home whenever and wherever that might be. And, then there are the three channels about van life. 

One of these three is a channel documenting the exploits of a young Canadian couple from Toronto named Eamon and Bec. They live out of a converted Sprinter van. (I feel a beatnik vibe coming on!) And they travel all over the world in this van, meeting new people, eating great food, having the most amazing experiences. Their videos are just one adventure after the other. To be honest, I probably live a little vicariously through them. 

Right now, they are in Morocco. The last video they posted was of a local Moroccan street food market in Marrakesh. Every day at around 4p, as people are leaving work, this food market pops up out of nowhere. Within an hour there are over 100 stalls of every kind of food you can imagine. It’s a crazy and joyful and abundant scene, made even more entertaining by the barking of the food vendors. As they’re trying to capture people’s attention, trying to get them to come to their stall. Trying to convince them that the food they have is better than any other stall in the market. Can’t you hear the merchant cries in your imagination? “Come!! Come! Buy! Eat here!” The merchant invites us in.

But the merchant crying out in our Isaiah text isn’t selling anything. Shockingly, he’s giving it away. Charging nothing for the person who really wants a drink. Or for the person who’s hungry. “Come, buy without money!” he cries. Surely not something we would ever hear on the streets of Marrakesh. Or on the streets of Louisville.

But it’s an invitation in. An invitation by God into something new. And different. An extension of covenant with David. When we think covenant, we probably remember that covenant that God made with Israel at Sinai. Remember? If you will be faithful to me I will be faithful to you. But, this is something different. Something new. A reinterpretation of the covenant God made with David - that David’s dynasty would last forever. It’s an unconditional covenant. No more “if you do this,” “I’ll do this” kind of covenant. But a promise that is entirely one-sided. Made by God.

And, even more powerfully, this covenant is not only for God’s chosen people. But, as we read in verse 5, it is a broadening of the covenant that will include all people. That will invite all people in.

God’s speech is interrupted briefly in verse 6 with a call from the prophet. “Seek the Lord,” he cries. Not by offering sacrifice. Instead, this is a more internal turning to God. A gift of the heart. Of the self. God, who is all merciful, looks for true seekers. For people who hunger and thirst for God. “Seek the Lord!” the prophet interrupts.

Then God returns in verse 8 with a statement that God’s thoughts and ways are radically different from those of human beings. And that, when God speaks, God’s word is creative and effective. Just as the rain, that falls to the earth and brings life.  

This entire chapter is an invitation to the exiles. It’s an invitation to us. To come home. To come home to a God who promises abundance and deep forgiveness. To come home to a God who promises to be there. Waiting. And faithful. With a plan to make everything whole again. 

Are you hurting? Are you in pain? Are you grieving? Are you thirsty? Or hungry? Or lost? This is God’s message and invitation: 

Come.
I have a place for you.
Come to the waters of baptism.
Come to the feast of the Eucharist.
Eat and drink only the best.
Fill yourself with only the finest.

Pay attention.
Come closer now.
Listen carefully to my life-giving, life nourishing words.
I’m making a lasting covenant commitment with you,
The same that I made with David: sure, solid, enduring love.
I have a plan.
I’m about to do a new thing.
Because when my Word goes out
--when my life-giving, life-nourishing Word goes out--
He will not come back empty-handed.
He will do the work I sent him to do.
He will complete the assignment I gave him.
This Word made flesh. For you.

Amen.

Preached December 12, 2021, at Grace & Glory, Prospect, with Third, Louisville.
Advent 3
Readings: Isaiah 55:1-13; John 4:13-14

The Power of God's Love: Many Gifts, One Spirit

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

It’s been a hard week. As it began, we first witnessed the hanging in effigy - on Memorial Day - of our governor, a racist practice used to stir up images of lynching and to stoke fear. Then, on the same day, George Floyd, a black man in Minneapolis, was murdered by police, calling for his dead mother. And crying, “I can’t breathe!” On Tuesday, we learned that the Justice Department is investigating the death of another black man, Ahmaud Arbury, shot down execution-style as he was jogging through his neighborhood in suburban Atlanta. On Wednesday, we learned that we had topped 100,000 deaths from COVID-19 here in the U.S., with a recognition that people of color are dying at four times the rate of white people. On that same day the 911 tape became public from the death of Breona Taylor - an black EMT shot by Louisville police entering her apartment using a no-knock warrant with no identification or warning. And we heard the cries of her boyfriend, “I don’t know what’s happening. Somebody kicked in the door and shot my girlfriend.” Then, on Thursday, as we began to see the aftermath of the uprising in Minneapolis and watched it expand throughout the country, we heard these words over and over again: “No justice, no peace!” On Friday, we turned on the news to hear of more uprising throughout our country, as well as news that another 2.1 million jobs have been lost, bringing the total to almost 41 million people out of work. And then yesterday, after days of businesses opening up, we hear that coronavirus cases are spiking once again.

It’s been a hard week. And if we’ve been able to simply turn off our television or radio or ignore this on our smartphones or computers because it has simply been too much to take, then I wonder what it must feel like for those who can’t escape it. For those who have suffered for days and weeks, and months and years, and decades and centuries. And who continue to suffer. 

It’s hard to find words today. Yet, on this Pentecost Sunday, I’m reminded of the words in Romans 8, that the Spirit helps us in our weakness; for we do not know how to pray as we ought, but that very Spirit intercedes with sighs too deep for words.

So, I sigh. And I pray that God, who searches my heart, knows, and that God’s will may come to you today in the few words I do have...

We are in two places in our readings today. We’ll begin in Corinth, because this is where we’ve been for the past few weeks. We know of the divisions in the church there - divisions that boil down to status - the belief that certain people are better than others. It’s this context where Paul writes these words in 1st Corinthians 12.

Brothers and sisters, I don’t want you to be ignorant about spiritual gifts. You know that when you were Gentiles you were often misled by false gods that can’t even speak. So I want to make it clear to you that no one says, “Jesus is cursed!” when speaking by God’s Spirit, and no one can say, “Jesus is Lord,” except by the Holy Spirit. There are different spiritual gifts but the same Spirit; and there are different ministries and the same Lord; and there are different activities but the same God who produces all of them in everyone. A demonstration of the Spirit is given to each person for the common good. A word of wisdom is given by the Spirit to one person, a word of knowledge to another according to the same Spirit, faith to still another by the same Spirit, gifts of healing to another in the one Spirit, performance of miracles to another, prophecy to another, the ability to tell spirits apart to another, different kinds of tongues to another, and the interpretation of the tongues to another. All these things are produced by the one and same Spirit who gives what he wants to each person.

Christ is just like the human body—a body is a unit and has many parts; and all the parts of the body are one body, even though there are many. We were all baptized by one Spirit into one body, whether Jew or Greek, or slave or free, and we all were given one Spirit to drink. --1 Corinthians 12:1-13 (CEB)

One of the problems in Corinth was that those who had been given the spiritual gift of speaking in tongues believed that their gift was better than all the others. By all accounts, the church in Corinth had been given a very full measure of the Spirit’s power. So, Paul sets about teaching them how they might discern God’s work in the activity of these many gifts. And, also, how they might value their brothers and sisters in Christ across that variety of gifts.

Or how they might discern what God is up to or what God may be doing in this place. Questions that we might, particularly, be asking at this time.

To begin with, Paul says that through God’s Spirit, God first bears witness to Jesus as Lord. One way to know whether a movement is led by the Spirit is to listen for its claims about Jesus Christ. Through the Spirit, we know Jesus on the cross, in the Lord’s supper, and in the resurrection. Through the Spirit, the church testifies that Jesus - not money, or security, or self esteem, or paranoia, or power, or anything else, but Jesus - is Lord. Gifts that come from the Spirit proclaim Jesus as Lord. 

They also serve the common good. This is Paul’s second criteria. Do our gifts serve the common good - our common life together, not only in the church, but in the world? The Spirit is all about building up the group rather than enriching individuals. While we each may receive gifts from the Spirit, they are to be used for the body as a whole. If not, or if they can’t be shared, then they are not from the Spirit. And, as was happening in Corinth, to rank one’s gift as better than the other is completely odds with the purpose of each gift, which is given for the good of all.

The third point that Paul makes is that, whatever God’s Spirit is doing, it will probably not be characterized by tidiness. Wherever we find the Spirit’s gifts, it will be messy. What Paul noticed in the Corinthian church is that they were enthusiastic about the more dramatic manifestations of the Spirit’s work, such as speaking in tongues, prophesying, or healing. They ignored the quieter work of the Spirit which is to draw them into a community that respects all of its members. Paul is trying to redirect some of their enthusiasm to the more excellent way of faith, hope, and, especially, love, so that they will return to valuing one another more than themselves and their own gifts. That brother or sister in Christ matters more than all of the spiritual gifts in the congregation, according to Paul. And this will be messy. But, Paul’s goal is not a neat and tidy life in community, but a loving one.

These are the criteria for discerning the work of the Holy Spirit among us. The Spirit proclaims Jesus as Lord. Offers its gifts to the church for the common good. And activates love for neighbor in all of the messiness it may bring. 

Now let’s go back in time a little to Acts and the first outpouring of the Spirit. We read from Acts 2:

When Pentecost Day arrived, they were all together in one place. Suddenly a sound from heaven like the howling of a fierce wind filled the entire house where they were sitting. They saw what seemed to be individual flames of fire alighting on each one of them. They were all filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other languages as the Spirit enabled them to speak. --Acts 2:1-4 (CEB)

The disciples are gathered together in one house, devoting themselves to prayer, and waiting for the arrival of the promised Advocate. 

The future for them is uncertain. Jesus is no longer physically with them, but they wait. And hope. And trust. And, after these past few months, perhaps we, too, can relate. 

And then these signs of the Holy Spirit - fire and wind - descend on them and the Spirit pushes them out of the safety of the room in which they have been staying.

Fire and wind are powerful symbols. They have the potential both for creation and for destruction. Perhaps they are appropriate symbols for the work of the Spirit in this moment. As we wait in the wreckage of what was or what is coming, as we wait for the birth of what will be, we are called to see visions and to dream dreams. 

We might ask of ourselves what of our old lives, both personally and communally, needs to be burned away? What needs to be renewed? Will we allow the fire of pandemic and uprising to burn away the economic inequality and racial inequity that has led to so much unnecessary and unjust loss of life? Will we allow the fire to burn away mass incarceration and an industrial system that has served no one well? Will we allow the fire to burn away an economic system where too many workers are considered “essential” but are not compensated fairly for their work? Will we allow the fire to burn away the idea that equal access to health care is not a human right?

Yet as the Spirit fire burns and winnows, as the Spirit wind tears down and destroys, we know that the Spirit creates. We have seen unprecedented cooperation between scientists and researchers all over the world. We have seen healthcare workers and many others work in sacrificial ways to save lives. We have seen white people stand as allies with their black and brown sisters and brothers. We have seen people of faith reaching out in our neighborhoods in creative and caring ways. We have seen the face of the earth and the sky renewed. 

So, what needs to be burned away in our personal and communal lives in this time? What needs to be renewed? Or, in our language of worship, of what do we need to repent? And in what ways do we need to witness to the life-giving work of God in Jesus Christ? 

We have been given gifts to discern the answers to these questions. We have been given gifts to help us seek the guidance of the Holy Spirit. We have been given gifts to witness that Jesus. Is. Lord. In our homes. In our church. And where it is needed right now the most, in our world. 

So, come, Holy Spirit. Burn, blow, breathe, move upon us all. That earth and all that’s in it may thrive. That earth and all that’s in it may love. That earth and all that’s in it may live in the harmony and wholeness you desire for us, for people of every color, and for all of creation. Come, Holy Spirit. Come.

Preached online June 7, 2020, at Grace & Glory Lutheran Church, Goshen, KY.

Day of Pentecost

Readings: Acts 2:1-4; 1 Corinthians 12:1-13; Mark 1:4-8; Psalm 104:24-34, 35b 

The Power of the Kingdom: Breaking Free

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

Who here remembers Joan Rivers? For those of you who are too young to have heard of her, Joan Rivers was a ground-breaking female comedian who first appeared in the 1960s and was a legend until she died in 2014.

She had a cutting wit about her. Not afraid to turn it on herself. She was bold and punchy, often graphic and obscene. And she held nothing back. Here are a couple of her cleanest classic one-liners. “I knew I was an unwanted baby, when I saw that my bath toys were a toaster and a radio.” Or “I’m definitely going to watch the Emmys this year! My makeup team is nominated for ‘Best Special Effects.’” One more. “You know you’ve reached middle age when you’re cautioned to slow down by your doctor, instead of by the police.”

Rivers had a classic catchphrase. When she said it, you knew you were in for a straight-forward, blunt, “no holds back” conversation. “Can we talk?” she would say. And then it would begin.

So, members of Grace & Glory, can we talk?

I want to start by saying that the gospel of Mark is hard. It is just hard. I’ve mentioned before that it was the first gospel written. Perhaps that is why it is so bold and blunt and, like Joan Rivers, so in your face. It opens with a brash claim about good news. That Jesus is the Son of God. It is a fast-paced, ever-moving book. More like a documentary than a film. That just throws stuff in your face, and that opens with John the Baptist shouting, “Repent!” 

The Gospel of Mark is not the reasoned premise of who Jesus is in Matthew, or the lovely narrative of Luke, or the ethereal Jesus of John. Mark is written to intentionally be in our faces. There is no gray area in Mark, no in between. It is black and white. Mark challenges us to pick a side. With Jesus. Or against Jesus. The irony of Mark is that for much of the gospel, it seems as though it is Jesus’ own disciples who seem to always make the wrong choices. And say the wrong things. And it feels as though Jesus is constantly frustrated with them.

Mark is hard. 

Today’s story is particularly difficult and hard. So, we are going to walk through it. Verse by verse. Section by section. I invite you to open up a pew Bible, if you wish. I will also put the verses on the screen.  

They came to the other side of the sea, to the country of the Gerasenes. --Mark 5:1 (NRSV)

Our story begins with this phrase from Mark 5, verse 1, “They came to the other side of the sea, to the country of the Gerasenes.” Last week, we heard the seed parables from Jesus. If you remember, he told them from a boat on the side of the sea, because the crowd on the shore had grown so large it was pushing him into the water. The sea that we’re talking last week and this week is the Sea of Galilee, pictured here. The large body to the left is the Mediterranean. But, the small body, almost large lake in the center of this map, is the Sea of Galilee. To the left is Galilee, which we know today as the present West Bank. This is the heart of Israel, the holy land. It’s here, where Jesus first gets into the boat on the western edge of the sea and teaches the seed parables, which we heard last week.

As today’s story opens, Jesus and the disciples have moved across the sea to the other side. On this map, it’s to the right of the Sea of Galilee. The side on the left is Israel. It’s the promised land, where the people of God live. The other side is the Decapolis, where the majority are Gentiles. Non-Jews. Jesus and his disciples are no longer in Galilee, but have moved across the sea into Gentile country, into the land of the Gerasenes. The first time in Mark that they are outside of the holy land.

And when he had stepped out of the boat, immediately a man out of the tombs with an unclean spirit met him. He lived among the tombs; and no one could restrain him any more, even with a chain; for he had often been restrained with shackles and chains, but the chains he wrenched apart, and the shackles he broke in pieces; and no one had the strength to subdue him. Night and day among the tombs and on the mountains he was always howling and bruising himself with stones. --Mark 5:2-5 (NRSV)

As Jesus steps out of the boat, he enters one of the most heartbreaking scenes we could ever imagine. He is immediately approached by a man - a man with an unclean spirit, our text tells us. It may be easy for us to focus on the unclean spirits, but there is a man here who has been possessed by them. Who is harming himself. Who people have tried to chain up. The suffering in this scene is enormous.

It’s important for us to understand spirits in this gospel. In Mark’s framework, the world is under the sway of Satan, of evil spirits. This is contrasted with the world of the Holy Spirit. The presence of an unclean spirit here, meeting Jesus, represents a clash of spiritual realms. The unclean and unholy spirits are the rulers of the age in which Jesus finds himself. Jesus represents that breaking-back-in of the Holy Spirit. 

In the Jewish tradition, to be unclean is not necessarily to be evil, but in a ritual state. There is no negative judgment about being unclean, except that this causes a rift in relationship with the community and results in social isolation. This is what we have here. A man, bound by unclean spirits, who are hurting him as he lives among the tombs, which are themselves unclean because they are places of death. All of this results in his being ostracized from the community. 

When he saw Jesus from a distance, he ran and bowed down before him; and he shouted at the top of his voice, “What have you to do with me, Jesus, Son of the Most High God? I adjure you by God, do not torment me.” For he had said to him, “Come out of the man, you unclean spirit!” Then Jesus asked him, “What is your name?” He replied, “My name is Legion; for we are many.” He begged him earnestly not to send them out of the country. --Mark 5:6-10 (NRSV)

It’s hard, isn’t it, when we read these verses to tell the difference between the man and the spirits? It’s hard to separate him from their possession of him. What must it feel like to be a person who is possessed by some kind of external power?

Notice that the spirits recognize Jesus right away. They know who he is, even if no one else does. What’s interesting to also note is that, if we turn back to Mark, chapter 1, Jesus’ first act of ministry in the holy land is to cast out demons. Now that he is in Gentile country, this is also his first act. One wonders if this is Jesus reclaiming not only the holy land, but the entire region as well.

Did you notice the name of the spirit? Legion. This is a Latin word that is related to Roman imperial forces, which were organized into legions. A full legion was some 6,000 soldiers. This is not a small war that Jesus is waging on unclean spirits, first in the holy land and now beyond its borders. This is an expanded theatre of action and conquest by Jesus.

Now there on the hillside a great herd of swine was feeding; and the unclean spirits begged him, “Send us into the swine; let us enter them.” So he gave them permission. And the unclean spirits came out and entered the swine; and the herd, numbering about two thousand, rushed down the steep bank into the sea, and were drowned in the sea.  --Mark 5:11-13 (NRSV)

Jesus gives the legion of spirits permission to enter into the herd of pigs, which are also, interestingly, unclean. This is not a small herd of pigs. Two thousand, which was a huge herd for the time. There is a real economic aspect here. Someone owned these pigs and they were worth a lot of money. Their herd is now wiped out. Their economic status is decimated. But, does it seem to you that Jesus is concerned about the economic impact of his miracle? 

The swineherds ran off and told it in the city and in the country. Then people came to see what it was that had happened. They came to Jesus and saw the demoniac sitting there, clothed and in his right mind, the very man who had had the legion; and they were afraid. Those who had seen what had happened to the demoniac and to the swine reported it. Then they began to beg Jesus to leave their neighborhood. --Mark 5:14-17 (NRSV)

How stunning this experience must have been for the people, who had likely known this man for years! Here he is. Clothed. Sitting politely and drinking tea. How do we make sense of their response? Of their fear? And their desire to send Jesus away? How comfortable they must have become, having this spirit-possessed man on the edge of town! How uncomfortable it was for them when Jesus came and upended the status quo! We, like they, might not like some things about the status quo, but the question is whether we’re really willing to have Jesus turn things upside down.

Not only this, but one wonders whether the townspeople thought his healing was worth the economic toll. What’s the cost of people on the edges being healed? What will it cost us for everyone to have healing and wholeness? Are we willing to pay it? 

As he was getting into the boat, the man who had been possessed by demons begged him that he might be with him. But Jesus refused, and said to him, “Go home to your friends, and tell them how much the Lord has done for you, and what mercy he has shown you.” And he went away and began to proclaim in the Decapolis how much Jesus had done for him; and everyone was amazed.  --Mark 5:18-20 (NRSV)

 It’s probably not unexpected that this man, now healed, wants to go with Jesus. Maybe he’s worried about staying in this place. He has no one who seems to be happy he has been healed. No family showing up. He’s been isolated for so long, he probably has no one left. But, Jesus says no. Stay here and tell everyone. Show everyone what has happened. Perhaps this is where the man can give his most powerful witness. In this place, where people know him. Who he was. Who he now is. Because of Jesus.

Folks, Mark is hard. We, like the people in town, are comfortable with the status quo. This Gospel pushes us to make the hard choices. What are the unclean spirits of our time? Where do we see oppression taking control of bodies and people, and causing pain? Are we willing to pay the cost that everyone might be whole? And who are the outcasts today? Who are the suffering and isolated in our world? Who do we push away so that we don’t have to see them?

Friends, until everyone is free, until everyone is whole, until everyone is healed, we cannot be fully free. So, yes, Mark is hard. But it is into the midst of our discomfort and fear that Jesus enters in. To transform us. And to fully break us free.

May you live into your discomfort this week. Amen.

Preached February 2, 2020, at Grace & Glory Lutheran Church, Goshen, KY.
Fourth Sunday after Epiphany
Readings: Daniel 4:28-37, Psalm 27:1-4, Mark 5:1-20

God's Kingdom Announced: The Reign of God

When he returned to Capernaum after some days, it was reported that he was at home. So many gathered around that there was no longer room for them, not even in front of the door; and he was speaking the word to them. Then some people came, bringing to him a paralyzed man, carried by four of them. And when they could not bring him to Jesus because of the crowd, they removed the roof above him; and after having dug through it, they let down the mat on which the paralytic lay. When Jesus saw their faith, he said to the paralytic, “Son, your sins are forgiven.” Now some of the scribes were sitting there, questioning in their hearts, “Why does this fellow speak in this way? It is blasphemy! Who can forgive sins but God alone?” At once Jesus perceived in his spirit that they were discussing these questions among themselves; and he said to them, “Why do you raise such questions in your hearts? Which is easier, to say to the paralytic, ‘Your sins are forgiven,’ or to say, ‘Stand up and take your mat and walk’? But so that you may know that the Son of Man has authority on earth to forgive sins”—he said to the paralytic— “I say to you, stand up, take your mat and go to your home.” And he stood up, and immediately took the mat and went out before all of them; so that they were all amazed and glorified God, saying, “We have never seen anything like this!”

Jesus went out again beside the sea; the whole crowd gathered around him, and he taught them. As he was walking along, he saw Levi son of Alphaeus sitting at the tax booth, and he said to him, “Follow me.” And he got up and followed him.

And as he sat at dinner in Levi’s house, many tax collectors and sinners were also sitting with Jesus and his disciples—for there were many who followed him. When the scribes of the Pharisees saw that he was eating with sinners and tax collectors, they said to his disciples, “Why does he eat with tax collectors and sinners?” When Jesus heard this, he said to them, “Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick; I have come to call not the righteous but sinners.”

Now John’s disciples and the Pharisees were fasting; and people came and said to him, “Why do John’s disciples and the disciples of the Pharisees fast, but your disciples do not fast?” Jesus said to them, “The wedding guests cannot fast while the bridegroom is with them, can they? As long as they have the bridegroom with them, they cannot fast. The days will come when the bridegroom is taken away from them, and then they will fast on that day.

“No one sews a piece of unshrunk cloth on an old cloak; otherwise, the patch pulls away from it, the new from the old, and a worse tear is made. And no one puts new wine into old wineskins; otherwise, the wine will burst the skins, and the wine is lost, and so are the skins; but one puts new wine into fresh wineskins.”

--Mark 2:1-22 (NRSV)

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

I have a question for all of you. How many of you, when you read a book, before you start, go to the last chapter of the book and read the ending? Come on now, be honest. Let’s see a show of hands.

My sister was like you. It used to make me so crazy! I mean, really, how can you read the ending and then go back and read the book from the beginning. You know how it comes out, then. You miss the suspense, the entire denouement of the book. You know how the major plot line and the minor plot lines will end. What fun is there in this!

I harassed her over and over about this. And, yet, she continued to do it.

It wasn’t until I was in seminary that I had a serious change of heart. So, in seminary, the average pages assigned for reading per class - at least where I attended seminary - was 5,000. Five thousand pages of theological reading. Sometimes, we would have a professor who would cut us a little break. But, usually, by the end of each quarter, I would have read nearly 15,000 pages of theology.

It wasn’t until my last year of seminary that I learned about the Pareto Principle of reading. This method comes from what is called the Pareto Analysis, which comes out of the field of statistics, that tells us that by doing 20% of the work you can achieve 80% of the benefit of doing an entire job. You like this idea, don’t you? I did, too!

So, this transfers to reading with the assumption that only 20% of a book is actually worth reading. And what the Pareto method of reading tells you to do is to skim the book to find out the author’s method to figure out where they put their thesis sentences, whether at the beginning or at the end of a paragraph. Because this is, generally, the model they will use for the entire book. So the practice is to skim the book, but focus on either the beginning or ending of the chapters and of the entire book, depending upon the author’s method. 

Learning this method of reading literally cut my reading time by 75% in my last year of seminary. If only I’d known this at the beginning of seminary, rather than the end… :/

So, what’s the whole point of this conversation? Today, in our reading from Mark, we move into
learning about Jesus and Jesus’ ministry, and what the reign of God - the kingdom of God - looks like...because, after all our entire theme for this year has been “Living Out the Kingdom of God.” So, it’s necessary for us to know what this kingdom looks like so that we can actually live it out. In today’s reading, we have three scenes or stories, three pericopes, that seem to have no real relationship to each other. We, first have the story of the healing of the man who is paralyzed and the response of the scribes to Jesus’ healing on the Sabbath. The second scene takes us to dinner. At Levi’s house. Levi, who is a tax collector. Who is extremely wealthy. Who is hated by the Jewish people. Viewed as an outcast. As a sinner. And then we have the third scene - again with the scribes of the Pharisees, the theologians - who challenge Jesus’ eating with “sinners” and that he isn’t fasting like they and John the Baptist’s disciples are. And to whom Jesus responds with three little, micro parables, that don’t seem to really make much sense. Three little parables about a wedding banquet. About a piece of clothing. And about wineskins.

But, my friends, it’s at the end of this story, where we find our beginning. Just as in seminary!

In the first micro parable, Jesus invites the scribes into a thought experiment about fasting at a wedding. Now, We have to remember that Jesus’ listeners didn’t know the end of the story, as we do. They don’t see how this could be interpreted as a foreshadowing of Jesus’ later arrest. Our mini-parable opens on a wedding banquet. And the celebrating and feasting that is happening. Jesus asks the scribes this question: can the wedding guests fast while the bridegroom is present? The answer has to be “no.” Why would you fast when the bridegroom - central to the feast - is present. But, then, suddenly the bridegroom is abducted. It is then that the fasting begins. 

The second small parable is about a coat. We don’t really patch clothing much anymore, so it might be a little hard to understand this parable. But, when you’re patching an old garment, you never want to use a patch made of material that hasn’t been pre-shrunk. Because the first time you wash it, it will shrink. And it will pull the rest of the material towards it, making it pucker and not lay flat. Making the patch especially noticeable.

The third parable is similar. But, this time it’s about wineskins. I don’t have much experience with wineskins. But, it makes sense to me that, if you were making wine, you would not want to put your new wine into an old wineskin. Because, the old wineskin has already been used and stretched to its capacity thanks to the fermentation process. If you put new wine into an old wineskin, as the new wine begins to ferment it will stretch the old wineskin, which has already been stretched. And the result will be that the old wineskin will burst.

What these micro-parables teach us is that what is at stake in the dispute between Jesus and scribes is clearly the relationship between old and new. About the past and the future. About time-honored ways and uncharted territory.

But, do you notice that, particularly, the parables about the coat and the wineskin do not make value judgments. That old is better than new. Or vice versa. These mini-lessons do not suggest that old things are bad and new things are good, or that old things are good and new things are bad. No, in fact, if you look closely, the old coat is to be repaired so it can be used. The old wineskin is to be preserved. Even, in the parable about the wedding and fasting, the practice of fasting is not rejected out of hand, but is reserved for a later time and purpose.

These are not texts that tell us to abandon traditions or older expressions of faith out - that those things of faith that we inherit are not necessarily bad things. Likewise, those things that are new are also not to be rejected out of hand. New thinking, new theology comes out of the old. Both are to be looked at. As one Lutheran theologian says, they are to be tested against scripture and against Jesus’ teaching. Those that do not fit are to be discarded, new and old.

All of this takes us back to the opening scene and the forgiveness and healing by Jesus of the man who is paralyzed. Did you hear the first thing that Jesus did for the man who had so cleverly been brought before Jesus for healing? Did you hear that the first thing Jesus did was to forgive this man?

Over many years in the church, we have, perhaps erroneously, distilled the gospel down to one little nugget. That God loves you. But, this story pushes us to take it further. To both hold onto the old, but embrace the new. Yes, God loves you.  But, God forgives you. Because it is forgiveness that brings transformation. Forgiveness that brings healing and wholeness. Forgiveness that brings life and that, then, allows us to bask in that amazing love that God has for all of us, both as individuals and as a community. 

If you doubt the power of forgiveness or, using this week’s Pub Theology topic, if you are skeptical of the transformational power of forgiveness, I invite you to watch this video clip, a film clip of Brandt Jean, brother of Botham Jean, who was so tragically killed by Dallas police officer Amber Guyger in 2018. This is from her sentencing hearing last October. 

There is nothing you can do or that you have done that will separate you from the love of God in Christ. God loves you. God forgives you. Amen.

Preached January 29, 2020, at Grace & Glory Lutheran Church, Goshen, KY.
Epiphany 2
Readings: Mark 2:1-22; Isaiah 42:6-9, Psalm 103:6-14

Cultivating and Letting Go

Have mercy on me, O God,
    according to your steadfast love;
according to your abundant mercy
    blot out my transgressions.
Wash me thoroughly from my iniquity,
    and cleanse me from my sin.

For I know my transgressions,
    and my sin is ever before me.
Against you, you alone, have I sinned,
    and done what is evil in your sight,
so that you are justified in your sentence
    and blameless when you pass judgment.
Indeed, I was born guilty,
    a sinner when my mother conceived me.

You desire truth in the inward being;
    therefore teach me wisdom in my secret heart.
Purge me with hyssop, and I shall be clean;
    wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow.
Let me hear joy and gladness;
    let the bones that you have crushed rejoice.
Hide your face from my sins,
    and blot out all my iniquities.

Create in me a clean heart, O God,
    and put a new and right spirit within me.
Do not cast me away from your presence,
    and do not take your holy spirit from me.
Restore to me the joy of your salvation,
    and sustain in me a willing spirit. Psalm 51:1-12 (NRSV)

Grace and peace to you from the Holy Trinity: Creator, Redeemer, and Comforter. Amen.

Welcome to Ash Wednesday and to Lent. These 40 days (excluding Sundays) are a time where we seek to move into a deeper level of discipleship with God. This year our theme throughout these Wednesday evenings will be that of “Cultivating and Letting Go.” 

It’s been tradition in the church for centuries that Lent is to be a time of giving something up. Perhaps red meat. Or chocolate. Or wine. Or sugar. Or some other thing we might consider a vice. 

I’d like us to rethink this a little bit this year. To consider how we might begin to cultivate those things that bring us into a deeper relationship with God. And to let go of those things that keep us apart from God. Now, I’m not certain if chocolate fits into that category. Perhaps, for some of us it does - that our desire for chocolate overrides our desire for relationship with God. So, I’ll let you figure that out yourselves, okay?

God’s truest desire for us and for all people is shalom. We’ve talked about that concept before - shalom is related to fullness or wholeness. It’s a wholeness of mind, body, and spirit. If someone is suffering, for example, from a lack of food, they are not experiencing shalom. Likewise if someone suffers from a physical affliction or an emotional loss or a spiritual emptiness, shalom is not present for them. Shalom is the wholeness that God desires for us. That, even in the midst of our imperfections - we might be transformed to be the whole people that God has created us to be.

In our weekly studies this Lent, we’ll be using a few different resources. First, will be scripture. Particularly, our focus will be on the Psalms. If you received a Lenten devotional last Sunday (If not, please take one with you tonight.), you may have perhaps noticed that each week’s focus is on a different psalm. Our Wednesday evening conversation will focus on the psalm appointed for the week. As part of our study of the psalms, we’ll be using a model developed by Walter Brueggemann, who is a contemporary Old Testament theologian. The model that he has developed in studying the psalms is that they are structured in a process that is much like our lives: from orientation, to disorientation, to reorientation. More about that in future weeks.

Then, we’ll also be using a book written by Dr. Brene Brown. The entire title of this book is The Gifts of Imperfection: Let Go of Who You Think You’re Supposed to Be and Embrace Who You Are - Your Guide to a Wholehearted Life. Brene Brown is a noted research sociologist, author, and teacher at the University of Houston. She has done extensive research and teaching, written numerous books, and spoken extensively on this subject of “wholeheartedness.” It’s an idea that is the equivalent of shalom - of wholeness, of living fully into who we are and who God has created us to be. 

The heart of Dr. Brown’s research, though, is not wholeheartedness or shalom. The heart of her research is shame. Because, ultimately, it is shame that keeps us from shalom. 

Before we move into this week’s focus, there are two words that we often pair together that we need to define and clarify. We need to look at the difference between guilt and shame. Anyone want to take a shot at this?

Guilt is a recognition that we’ve done something bad. That, we’ve sinned, whether intentionally or unintentionally. Guilt is about our behavior. “I did something bad.” 

Shame, on the other hand, is about who we are. “I am bad.” In our Lutheran understanding, shame is connected to original sin. It was mentioned in our reading tonight in Psalm 51: “Indeed, I was born steeped in wickedness, a sinner from my mother’s womb.” These words take us back to the story of Adam and Eve. And, if you’ve ever looked closely at that story, you may have noticed that shame is the first outcome of sin. 

In the story, after Adam and Eve had eaten the apple, God walks in the garden in the afternoon looking for them. They’ve always been there before. But, this time, God is unable to find them. God calls out to them, “Where are you?” Their response: “We were naked and we didn’t want you to see us naked.” In other words, “we are ashamed.” For Luther, the idea of original sin was related to this shame and the belief of Adam and Eve that they were not good enough. It was not that they ate of the tree forbidden by God. It was that they felt shame: a belief that God could not love them. Even though they were God’s very own creation. Shame comes from a lack of trust in God and in God’s promises of faithfulness, grace, and forgiveness. Stuff that is right out of the first commandment. 

Shame is the fear that we are unlovable. It is the intensely painful feeling or experience of believing that we are flawed and, therefore, unworthy of love and belonging. When we experience it, we feel disconnected and desperate for worthiness. We’re then more likely to engage in self-destructive behaviors and to attack or shame others. In fact, shame is related to violence, aggression, depression, addiction, eating disorders, and bullying. Children, who use more shame self-talk (I am bad) versus guilt self-talk (I did something bad), struggle with issues of self-worth and self-loathing. We all experience some level of shame.

Unless we overcome this, we can never fully experience love and belonging. It is this - a deep sense of love and belonging - that is an irreducible need of all women, men, and children. We are wired this way by God. We are wired to be loved and to belong and to be authentically who God has created us to be. It is our shame that gets in the way of this.

But, we’re afraid to talk about shame. Yet, the less we talk about shame, the more control it has over our lives. And the more control it has over us, the less we are able to find shalom, or the wholeheartedness that God desires for us and for our lives. To find love and belonging and authenticity.

So, what does shame look like? For some of us, it’s moving away from people by withdrawing, hiding, silencing ourselves, and keeping secrets. Some of us move toward others, seeking to appease and to please. And some of us move against others by trying to gain power, by being aggressive, and by using shame to fight shame (like sending mean emails or posting mean things on Facebook). Most of us use all of these at different times with different people.

What do your shame behaviors look like? Well, to answer this, consider these questions: Who do you become when you’re backed into that shame corner? How do you protect yourself when you’re hurt? Do you strike out and hurt back? Do you move away and withdraw? Do you people-please? 

One of the things I do out of shame is to self-protect. Here’s a perfect example of this. Yesterday, I had a text from Lisa May, the pastor at Shiloh. Because I’m going to be gone this coming weekend, she’s covering for me here at Grace & Glory. I sent her a copy of this Sunday’s bulletin. She texted to question me whether I had the right Gospel reading. Now, because she’s preaching twice this week, it’s easy to get confused. She was confusing our Ash Wednesday Gospel reading with Sunday’s reading. This has happened to me. In fact, it happened three days ago. I got confused between the very same two readings. Now, my normal shame-based response would be to reply and correct her, without mentioning that I’d made the very same mistake. Because to admit that I’d made the mistake would mean that I am imperfect, that I make mistakes. But, as this topic of shame has been on my mind, I decided to practice what is called "shame resilience." To stop for a moment, to think about shame and my usual response, and then to practice courage, compassion, and connection - the three things Dr. Brown has found in her research that help us begin to overcome shame. So, instead of only texting Lisa about her mistake, I added that I made the same mistake earlier this week. Lisa’s response? Glad to know it wasn’t just me. 

The more aware we are of our shame responses, the more resilient we can become toward shame. The more we can own our own stories - stories as people of God. Stories of worthiness. Of love. Of belonging. And of authenticity. We become more connected to God and to each other. We experience wholeheartedness. Or the shalom that God desires for us.

Now, this has been a very long introduction to the conversations we’ll be having on these Wednesday evenings. Before I close, though, I’d like to look at tonight’s theme about “Cultivating Joy and Gratitude.” It’s easy to just say we should have more joy and gratitude in our lives. But, this can’t happen unless we let go of scarcity or fear of the dark.

There are many different aspects to scarcity and fear. They can be related to safety and uncertainty, to fear of the dark or the unknown. They can be related to the idea that we’re not enough. (There’s that shame creeping in.) We’re not thin enough, or smart enough, or fit enough, or adequate enough to be loved by God, much less by anyone else. 

So, where in your life are you “not enough?” What aspect of scarcity or fear do you need to let go of to move toward a mindset of sufficiency? To trust in God’s promises - that God will provide for you and preserve you? 

I invite you tonight to begin pruning scarcity and fear away. To begin practicing gratitude. To trust that God loves you, that God will preserve you and provide for you. And that God keeps God’s promises so that you may fully experience joy - the “joy of salvation” referenced in our psalm. A phrase that really means the joy of healing. That you might begin to be healed and to experience the wholeheartedness of shalom.


May God grant it. Amen.

Preached March 6, 2019, at Grace & Glory Lutheran Church, Goshen, KY.
Ash Wednesday.
Readings: Matthew 18:1-9; Psalm 51:1-12.