God's Kingdom Revealed: A New Kind of King

Today marks the fourth week that we have spent in just two chapters of the Gospel of John, chapters 18 and 19 -  these two chapters in which Jesus is, essentially, on trial. First, before the Jewish religious leaders and, then, for the past two weeks before Pilate, the Roman governor. Throughout this entire time, we’ve been talking about power. And kingdom. And how the world works versus how Jesus works.

Today marks the last of our time in these chapters. Today is the story of Jesus’ crucifixion. When we began these weeks going deeper into Jesus’ passion, perhaps, it felt out of place. After all, we usually hear these texts only during Holy Week, which we will mark next week. But, perhaps, by the time we finish today, we will admit that spending time deeply considering these texts, the issues raised in them, and the Jesus pictured for us in them - well, perhaps, we will decide that this time has, in fact, been helpful. Important even. To help us better understand who Jesus is for us. 

The soldiers took Jesus prisoner. Carrying his cross by himself, he went out to a place called Skull Place (in Aramaic, Golgotha). That’s where they crucified him—and two others with him, one on each side and Jesus in the middle. Pilate had a public notice written and posted on the cross. It read “Jesus the Nazarene, the king of the Jews.” Many of the Jews read this sign, for the place where Jesus was crucified was near the city and it was written in Aramaic, Latin, and Greek. Therefore, the Jewish chief priests complained to Pilate, “Don’t write, ‘The king of the Jews’ but ‘This man said, “I am the king of the Jews.”’”

Pilate answered, “What I’ve written, I’ve written.” --John 19:16b-22 (CEB

Before we move into this story from chapter 19, I’d like to spend a few minutes in chapter 12 - the reading we heard earlier as we gathered. The order of events in John’s gospel is different that in the synoptic gospels, Matthew, Mark and Luke. Each of the gospels was written to a specific audience. John is no different. So, when we see these differences between gospels, it’s not a bad thing. Rather, it fills out the picture for us. We have a fuller picture, a fuller sense of the experiences that the early apostles had as they walked with Jesus throughout his ministry.

So, in John’s gospel, the entry into Jerusalem is very different. The differences are important to note, because they help us more fully understand the story John is trying to tell. The point the gospel writer is trying to make. I’d invite you to open up one of the Bibles under your seat so that, together, we can look more carefully at these texts.

Jerusalem at Passover season was the center of pilgrimage for Jews from all parts of the world. It was only in Jerusalem that the Passover meal could be properly celebrated since only in the temple could the lambs be sacrificed for the meal. Passover, if you remember, was a festival commemorating God’s deliverance of the Israelites from Egyptian bondage. Many Jews under Roman rule longed for another such deliverance. In fact, it would be just 30 years later that a full-fledged war would erupt against Rome. During this time, longing for the Messiah-king was rampant.

In addition, during Passover, as with the other major festivals, Jerusalem was overflowing with visitors. Normally, it had a population of about 600,000. But, there is historical evidence to indicate that during the primary festivals, Jerusalem’s population would swell to between 2 and 3 million people. Think Miami Beach at spring break. Or New Orleans at Mardi Gras. On steroids. You can imagine how nervous this made the Roman occupiers. It was an incredibly volatile situation. Ready to erupt at any moment.

There was also an undercurrent running through the city. In the preceding chapter, Jesus has just raised Lazarus from the dead. The news of this miracle - this amazing sign - was spreading like wildfire throughout the city. Not just with the residents of the city, but also those who had come from the reaches of the Roman empire, from across the known world.

As chapter 12 opens, the crowd has just learned that Jesus will be coming to Jerusalem. They gather palm branches. Why palm branches? The other gospels tell us that the people gathered branches. Why the detail in John? 

Because palm branches were used to honor kings. This swelling crowd, having heard the miracle story, anxious to see Jesus took branches used to honor kings and went out to meet him. In John, it was only then that Jesus found a donkey and sat on it. This is a different order than in the other gospels. It's as if Jesus knew the kind of king the people wanted. A king who would lead them in a violent overthrow of the Roman occupiers. A leader to deliver them from bondage, just like Moses, thousands of years before. But, this wasn’t the kind of king Jesus intended to be. Jesus was to be the king portrayed in Zechariah: “he will cut off the chariot from Ephraim and the warhorse from Jerusalem. The bow used in battle will be cut off; he will speak peace to the nations.” Jesus would not be a nationalistic king. But a universal king, one whose realm would encompass the entire world, not just that of the Jews. “For God so loved the world….”

It was this very thing that terrified all of the leaders, Jewish and Roman alike, bringing us now to chapter 19. The Day of Preparation for Passover. The day of Jesus’ crucifixion.

Crucifixion is a horrible way to die. A few years ago, I started reading a book on this means of punishment. The descriptions of what happens to one’s body were so horrific, I was unable to finish it. Crucifixion is a horrible way to die.

That Jesus dies in this way says everything about who he is and what his death means. In John, Jesus is God, a divine being, Word become flesh. Throughout the story, Jesus is in charge, directing all of the events according to a pre-ordained script. John’s passion account is not so much a tragedy as a divine drama. 

In our text, Jesus carries his own cross. Not only is it the Word of God who dies on this cross, it is also the King of the Jews. Pilate puts that very sign on Jesus’ cross. The irony of this is something we cannot ignore. Because we know that statement to be true. 

But, there’s more. This sign is written in three languages - Aramaic, Latin, and Greek. All of the languages of the known world. Jesus is not only the Word of God dying on the cross, or the King of the Jews dying on the cross, but the king of heaven and earth dying on the cross. At the same time the Passover lambs will be slaughtered for the Passover festival. Jesus, who sacrifices himself. “For God so loved the world….” 

So, what kind of king do you want Jesus to be? No really, what kind of king do you want Jesus to be? Do you want Jesus to be the kind of king - the rescuing king - who swoops in to deliver you from whatever hardship you might be going through? Or, perhaps, you want Jesus to be the nationalistic king, who saves you while destroying your enemies, whoever or whatever they may be? Or maybe your King Jesus is the king who saves you from your sin so that you can get to heaven, with no thought to what discipleship might mean here and now? On earth?

What kind of king do you want Jesus to be?

In John, this is the kind of king we see Jesus to be. A courageous king who moves toward conflict, instead of away from it, restoring and deepening relationships. A truth-telling king who speaks honestly and authentically, with no regard for his own life or his social position. A sacrificial king who carries his own cross. A humble king who stoops down to wash his disciples’ feet. Even the feet of Judas, the one who will betray him. 

This is the kind of king Jesus is. Will you follow this kind of king?

Preached April 10, 2022, at Grace & Glory, Prospect, with Third, Louisville, and New Goshen Presbyterian, Prospect.

Palm/Passion Sunday

Readings: John 12:12-27, 19:16b-22; Psalm 24

Presence and Promise: The Center of Our Universe

The book of Revelation. What comes to mind when you think of this book? Maybe it’s the Left Behind series so popular a few years ago talking about the end of the world and the so-called rapture. Or maybe it’s all of the bizarre imagery in the book, ideas and word pictures that seem nearly impossible to interpret. Or maybe it’s 666 - the anti-Christ and the many people that have been identified as this being. Or maybe you’ve just never read it because, as one member told me, it just scares the bejesus out of her. 

Today, we are in the first of five Sundays in this book. This apocalyptic writing. Yet, it is more than this. So much more. It’s also a book of worship. As we read through selected passages, you will hear words that sound familiar to you, words that we have sung or spoken in our worship in the Church for over two millenia. 

It’s also an epistle - a letter to the Church. Originally addressed to the seven churches in Asia Minor to prepare them and comfort them and challenge them, it is really a letter for the whole Church, the universal church. A letter that uses picture language, not to conceal, but, ultimately, to reveal. That opens with this claim - that it is “a revelation of Jesus Christ.” A revelation given to John that is intended to show us God’s ultimate mission and purpose for the world. 

We begin in Revelation, chapter 4.

After this I looked, and there in heaven a door stood open! And the first voice, which I had heard speaking to me like a trumpet, said, “Come up here, and I will show you what must take place after this.” At once I was in the spirit, and there in heaven stood a throne, with one seated on the throne! And the one seated there looks like jasper and carnelian, and around the throne is a rainbow that looks like an emerald. Around the throne are twenty-four thrones, and seated on the thrones are twenty-four elders, dressed in white robes, with golden crowns on their heads. Coming from the throne are flashes of lightning, and rumblings and peals of thunder, and in front of the throne burn seven flaming torches, which are the seven spirits of God; and in front of the throne there is something like a sea of glass, like crystal.

Around the throne, and on each side of the throne, are four living creatures, full of eyes in front and behind: the first living creature like a lion, the second living creature like an ox, the third living creature with a face like a human face, and the fourth living creature like a flying eagle. And the four living creatures, each of them with six wings, are full of eyes all around and inside. Day and night without ceasing they sing,

“Holy, holy, holy,
the Lord God the Almighty,
    who was and is and is to come.”

And whenever the living creatures give glory and honor and thanks to the one who is seated on the throne, who lives forever and ever, the twenty-four elders fall before the one who is seated on the throne and worship the one who lives forever and ever; they cast their crowns before the throne, singing,

“You are worthy, our Lord and God,
    to receive glory and honor and power,
for you created all things,
    and by your will they existed and were created.” --Rev. 4:1-11 (CEB)

I’d like to begin today speaking about the context in which this book was written. The seven churches were churches all of which were likely planted by Paul. These were the seven churches of Asia Minor (present day Turkey): Ephesus. Smyrna. Pergamum. Thyatira. Sardis. Philadelphia (not in Pennsylvania). Laodicea. 

The number seven is the number of completeness, a number that figures prominently in all of John’s writings. The seven days of creation. The seventh day of the week, made holy by God as a day of rest. The seven clean animals Noah was commanded to bring in the ark. The seven years centered around the Year of Jubilee. Over and over again, we see the number seven used in scripture, intended to suggest wholeness.

This letter, although addressed to the seven churches, is really intended for the whole church, the universal church. A quick glimpse of these letters in the chapter preceding today’s text tells us that the positives and negatives of church life then are really no different from church life today. 

Ephesus is a congregation that is more interested in truth than in love. A church that has abandoned the love that first brought them together. Unable to distinguish between good theology and bad theology without becoming hateful. 

Smyrna is a persecuted church, rejected by people they had considered their friends, that has lost its privileged status as a “legal” religion and now faces the very real threat of persecution. 

Pergamum has also known persecution and martyrdom. It has experienced external pressure from the government, as well as, internal pressure from its own members to conform to the wishes of the state. 

Thyatira had secret societies and a fascination with a type of spiritualism that John describes as “the deep things of Satan.” He warns them about playing with people’s spirituality. 

Sardis is a church that has a great community reputation as a church alive and active. But, behind its facade, this church is dead. Only going through the motions. With little substance to its witness. Fooling everyone, including themselves. Because it is no longer a church able to tell the difference between real Christian witness and useless religious rituals and beliefs.

Laodicea is a wealthy, self-sufficient church. It’s a “show” church. Fat, smug, self-satisfied. Free of controversy. But neutral, lukewarm and paralyzed. Financially secure, it is spiritually useless. 

Only one of the seven churches escapes John’s wrath. Philadelphia. It’s not a fat church. Not self-sufficient. Not financially secure. Yet it too is under pressure to conform to the religion of the Roman empire and offered special status if it cooperates. The members of this church, though, have found the cost of power too high. And they have decided to remain true to the name of the Crucified One. As a result, they, too, have been rejected and now face persecution.  

Seven churches. Each different, yet all of them somewhat similar. Which of these seven churches is like a church we know? Better yet, which of these seven are we? Or perhaps, we can find a bit of ourselves in all of them.

The book of Revelation is intended to be either a comfort or a challenge. A comfort to those experiencing persecution because they have refused to follow the religion of the state. Or a challenge to those churches who simply want to get along to go along. It is a book that reminds us - especially in today’s text - that God the Creator, and none other, is at the center of the universe. Not us. Not our culture. And, particularly, not the powers and principalities of our world. 

This is the meaning of the vision in the throne room in today’s reading. God, the creator, is seated on the throne. God looks like jasper and carnelian - stones of paradise from Ezekiel. The throne is surrounded by a rainbow, recalling the promise to Noah of God’s commitment to show mercy to every living creature. There are the twenty-four elders representing the heavenly court - the community of faith gathered around God in heaven. There’s lightning and thunder, images that represent God’s awesome power in nature. Finally, there are four living creatures which, for John, represent all living things. Notice that the one with the human face - representing all humanity - is not at the center. These beings join the elders, all of creation, and all the people of God, day and night praising the Creator. 

This is how the universe is ordered. With no human or anything else at its center other than God, the Creator. It is a reminder for us that no matter the chaos or difficulty or persecution or self-induced mess we may experience, God is at the center of our world, our universe, the whole cosmos. And God is at work, bringing about a new heaven and a new earth. And nothing. Nothing will separate us from God, ​​the Lord God the Almighty, who was. And is. And is to come. Amen.

Preached August 8, 2021, at Grace & Glory, Goshen, and Third, Louisville.

11th Sunday after Pentecost

Readings: Revelation 4:1-11, John 17:1-5

Promises Made, Promises Kept: Low Places

In those days a decree went out from Emperor Augustus that all the world should be registered. This was the first registration and was taken while Quirinius was governor of Syria. All went to their own towns to be registered. Joseph also went from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to the city of David called Bethlehem, because he was descended from the house and family of David. He went to be registered with Mary, to whom he was engaged and who was expecting a child. While they were there, the time came for her to deliver her child. And she gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in bands of cloth, and laid him in a manger, because there was no place for them in the inn.

In that region there were shepherds living in the fields, keeping watch over their flock by night. Then an angel of the Lord stood before them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid; for see—I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people: to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord. This will be a sign for you: you will find a child wrapped in bands of cloth and lying in a manger.” And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God and saying,

“Glory to God in the highest heaven,

    and on earth peace among those whom he favors!”

When the angels had left them and gone into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, “Let us go now to Bethlehem and see this thing that has taken place, which the Lord has made known to us.” So they went with haste and found Mary and Joseph, and the child lying in the manger. When they saw this, they made known what had been told them about this child; and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds told them. But Mary treasured all these words and pondered them in her heart. The shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all they had heard and seen, as it had been told them. --Luke 1:1-20 (NRSV)

Grace, mercy, and peace from God our Father, and from our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ:  Emmanuel, God with us. The Word made flesh. Amen.

Over the season of Advent, it’s a tradition here at Grace & Glory to read through a devotional book - something that puts us as a community literally on the same page each day as we wait for this night.

This year, we’ve been reading a devotion entitled, “Low,” by John Pavlovitz. He’s a contemporary writer and pastor who writes about the gritty reality of life. One look at the titles from some of the days give you a sample: Twisted Bowels, It is Not Well With My Soul, Sorry and Sorrow, A Messy Nativity and Low Places.

It’s that title - Low Places - that has really stuck with me over the past few days. In fact, as I reflected on this phrase, I must admit that this is the first thing I thought of.

Now, the themes in this song are probably not the best material on which to preach on Christmas Eve. Yet, there is real truth and honesty in this song. And, with the Christmas story, we've so romanticized that we've forgotten the truth of the story. The gritty reality. That it’s really about a lowly teenage girl. Who is pregnant. And unwed. And about a carpenter, who in his broken-heartedness keeps their engagement, even with the knowledge that the child she’s carrying isn’t his. And knowing that, if he breaks off their engagement, the possibility of her being stoned to death in their time and their place was very real. These were people in “low places.”

But, my focus tonight actually isn’t on Mary and Joseph. It’s not even on the baby, helpless and small as he was. My focus tonight is on the lowest-of-the-low characters in our story. So low, in fact, that they are unnamed, even though they show up in nearly every single nativity scene we see. 

Who are these lowly, unnamed characters? They are the animals.

Now, we assume that there were animals present, because, even though they are unnamed, the story tells us that Mary and Joseph ended up in a stable, because there was no room for them in the “inn.” 

Now, to be honest, a more accurate translation is that there was no “guestroom” available for them. Joseph was from Bethlehem, which meant that he had family there. And a place to stay. So, when they arrived at his relatives’ house and found that the guestroom was already full, they settled into an animal stall. In Palestine, these stalls were usually adjacent to human living quarters, on a lower level. It’s where families would bring their domesticated animals in for the night - animals like oxen, and donkeys, and sheep, and chickens. This must have been such a noisy place. At least until all of the animals settled down for the night. 

It was here in this stall where Mary went into labor, which is a noisy thing, too. And a messy thing. One has to wonder what the animals in that stall were thinking. Birth was nothing new to them. But, one wonders if they had ever been witness to the birth of a human baby. And, particularly, a one like this.

In the famous verse, John 3:16, which is the Gospel in a nutshell, but which is so often used to beat people over the head, we hear these words, “God so loved the world that he gave his only-begotten Son.” Human-centric as we are, I would suggest that when we hear the word “world” we think only of us. Of humanity. Of human beings. 

Yet, in the Greek, the word is used to refer to the entire cosmos - to all of creation. That Jesus came not just for humankind, but for everything. Animals, birds, fish, insects, dirt, clouds. In Romans 8, Paul writes that “creation waits in eager expectation for the children of God to be revealed..that the whole creation has been groaning as in the pains of childbirth right up to the present time.”

That night, as the animals witnessed Mary’s pains of childbirth, one wonders if they were wide-eyed with the possibility that this baby, helpless and powerless, much like they were, might be the beginning of their own redemption as well.


Near the end of our service tonight, we will light candles and listen to the opening verses of John. That the Word became flesh and lived among us. The Greek word here translated for “flesh” once again describes not only human flesh, but all flesh - both human and animal. 

Now, I’m not saying that as Jesus, the Word, became flesh, he took on animal characteristics. But, I am suggesting that in taking on “flesh,” Jesus was coming alongside all of creation - creation formed by him at the beginning of time in love. 

And, that night, as these animals watched this baby being born, one can only believe that they knew they were witnessing something profound. That they were witnessing the in-breaking of God and the unfolding of God’s cosmic plan for their redemption, as well as for ours.  

Perhaps this is why, as we play with and love on our own animals, we get such a sense of profound love and commitment. Because they know. And they are just waiting for us to get it. To get that God loves us and all of God’s creation. That our believing and living in response to this love is what leads to abundant life. That it is abundant life - a life of peace and wholeness - that God desires for all creation. And that what we do - our own believing and our own living - affects the work of God for the good of all.  This is why God comes to us and all creation. This is why God comes to the low places. That all of creation might experience redemption and life. 

May you hear this tonight. May you hear God’s profound love and desire for you. And may you hear that, just as God seeks redemption and abundant life for these animals, God seeks the same for you. You, who are loved, called, and claimed as a beloved child of God.

All this. All this from a collection of unnamed noisy animals in the lowest of the low places that night in Bethlehem. Amen.

Preached December 24, 2019, at Grace & Glory Lutheran Church, Goshen, KY.
Christmas Eve
Readings: Micah 5:2-5a, Luke 2:1-20.

Keeping the Sabbath: Rest!

Thus the heavens and the earth were finished, and all their multitude. And on the seventh day God finished the work that he had done, and he rested on the seventh day from all the work that he had done. So God blessed the seventh day and hallowed it, because on it God rested from all the work that he had done in creation. --Genesis 2:1-3 (NRSV)

---

As the Father has loved me, so I have loved you; abide in my love. If you keep my commandments, you will abide in my love, just as I have kept my Father’s commandments and abide in his love. I have said these things to you so that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be complete.

“This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you. No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends. You are my friends if you do what I command you. I do not call you servants any longer, because the servant does not know what the master is doing; but I have called you friends, because I have made known to you everything that I have heard from my Father. --John 15:9-15 (NRSV)

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

Last week, we began our three-part series on the Sabbath. We heard last week that once a week, we are to STOP. To let go of how the world defines us - by what we produce. To stop and to live into our humanity. To stop doing and practice just being. One day out of seven.

We can’t just stop, though, can we? Standing or sitting in one place for 24 hours? No. We are to stop. And, then, to rest.

What does rest look like to you?

Rest in scripture is more than simply lounging around all day. Napping. Reading a book. Doing nothing. Rest means much more than simply “having a rest.” Rest is really focused on what happens after one completes one’s work. Rest, in scripture, means completion.

So, it’s no wonder then, that, after God had crafted the world and the inhabitants of that world in six days - at the completion of that phase of God’s work - God rested. It’s as though God finished God’s work. (And, by the way, the Hebrew word used for God’s work is the same word used for ordinary work - the work that you and I do each week). God finishes this phase, stops, and takes a look back at what God has created. God stops to rest and to enjoy what God has made. Because this is integral to who God our creator is. God enjoys the beauty and the harmony of each creature and each feature that, in its very uniqueness, contributes to the whole.

It kind of reminds me of the symphony!

My son grew up on classical music. He grew on a wide variety of music, but, in particular, because I played a lot of classical music on the piano and the organ, he heard a lot of it. And learned to love it.

In elementary school, he took lessons to play guitar. Then, later on, piano. (How many of you learned an instrument in elementary school?) But, what he most loved was listening to the symphony. So, it wasn’t long before I purchased season tickets to the philharmonic for the two of us. First, let me tell you that seeing classical music performed by an orchestra is way better than listening to a recording of it. As its performed, you’re able to watch each instrument being played. To watch the percussionist move back and forth between the tympani and bass drum. To see the trombonists work the slides of their instruments. To see the violists bow their instruments or pluck the strings - each technique very different from the other. But, then, secondly, to hear an orchestra in person is also way better than listening to a recording. To hear, much more distinctively, as the bassoons play a phrase. Or to hear the trumpets enter as the music swells and grows bolder and louder. To see and hear the uniqueness of each instrument. Each very different in look and sound. Yet, each that contributes to the whole.

Yes, I think that on the seventh day, when God rested and viewed all that God had made, God saw and heard the uniqueness of each creature and each feature, and God saw the symphony of his work. And God experienced joy.

Because, this is who God our creator is. Just as a parent, who simply sits back to watch their child play, and learn, and grow. To watch one’s child simply be a child. God enjoys the beauty and harmony of each unique aspect of God’s creation. God creates to enjoy. God creates to relate and to connect to all of creation. And God, in setting apart this day at the end of our week of work - God, who created us in God’s very image - desires for us to find joy and relationship and connection in our rest.

There’s another aspect of the Sabbath, this shabbat, that we read in our Genesis text. In addition to God resting on this seventh day, God blessed the day. And sanctified it. God made it holy. In all of the creative work that God had done before this day, it is only this day of rest, this seventh day, this Sabbath, that God sanctified.

Throughout scripture, when God sanctifies something, God makes it God’s own. Just as God has sanctified us and made us God’s own, God sanctifies and makes this day God’s own. It is a day that belongs only to God. It is a sacred day. It is also the clearest hint for us of how we, created in the divine image, should end our week. How we should find our rest.

It’s how Christ found his. “As the Father has loved me,” Jesus tells his disciples, “so I have loved you; abide in my love.” It is in a rest that abides in God’s love where we find renewal. Where we understand that our life is not self-generated, that our life doesn’t come from us, but that our life is a gift. From God.

In the words just before our reading from John today, Jesus uses the vine and branches metaphor. (After having toured a winery on vacation, I particularly like this metaphor.) “I am the vine, you are the branches,” he tells the disciples. This metaphor and the life envisioned in it stands in striking contrast to the life that our world teaches. The world’s life is a life of individualism, of privatism, and of success that is based on individual accomplishment. A life well lived in the eyes of the world is based on the “survival of the fittest” ideal - where it’s all about me. And about what I do. About what is good for me. It’s a life where we are always in competition with each other. Seeking to be better and more productive than everyone so that we can be viewed in the world’s eyes as “successful.” The best. The biggest. The richest. The most powerful.

How easily we can be trapped into this view of life!

But, the life envisioned in this metaphor used by Jesus stands radically in opposition to that of the world’s vision. This life assumes social interrelationship and accountability. Where we are only as fruitful as we are abiding with others in Jesus’ love. Where we are responsible, not only for ourselves, but for each member of our community of faith. And for our neighbor. And our enemy. For every citizen and for every immigrant, whether documented or not. “This is my commandment,” Jesus says to his disciples and to us. “Love one another as I have loved you.”

This is why Sabbath rest is so important. Because our rest, our renewal, is found in God. As we abide in God each week, we remember who God is. As we hear God’s word and receive the sacrament, we remember who God is. And we remember who we are. A people created by God, invited to abide in Jesus. To cling to the faith of Christ in God. And to find a renewed life. A life that belongs to God and is a gift of God. Life that trusts in God absolutely. And a life that is absolute mutual care and connection to others.

This is what the gift of the Sabbath is to look like. That we Stop! And Rest! And find life and joy in God’s presence and love.

We are made for this love. We are made to live in this love. We are made to share this love. Amen.

Preached July 21, 2019, at Grace & Glory Lutheran Church, Goshen, KY.
Sixth Sunday after Pentecost
Readings: Genesis 2:1-3, John 15:9-15

Faith in God's Promises: Waiting for Mishpat

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

Over the past few Sunday of Advent, we’ve been exploring what it looks like to have faith in God’s promises. We first looked at this through the eyes of the prophet Habakkuk, who directly challenged God with his question, “How long?” And who heard God’s response, that “the righteous will live by faith.”

Last week, we explored the story of Esther and what it looks like to respond to injustice with leadership and courage. What it looks like to be called “for such a time as this.”

Today, we move to the writings of Isaiah. Isaiah is an interesting book because it spans centuries. It covers both the time before the exile of the people of Judah and also their return from exile, some 200 years later. Because of this span, scholars have recognized for a very long time that major portions of the book were composed by writers other than Isaiah.

Isaiah is, generally, broken into two parts. Chapters 1 through 39, called the First Book of Isaiah. And, then, chapters 40-66, called the Second Book of Isaiah. First Isaiah covers the time before the exile. Second Isaiah covers the conclusion of the Babylonian exile and the rise of King Cyrus of Persia, plus later years.

Our reading this morning is from Second Isaiah, Chapter 42.

Here is my servant, whom I uphold,

    my chosen, in whom my soul delights;

I have put my spirit upon him;

    he will bring forth justice to the nations.

He will not cry or lift up his voice,

    or make it heard in the street;

a bruised reed he will not break,

    and a dimly burning wick he will not quench;

    he will faithfully bring forth justice.

He will not grow faint or be crushed

    until he has established justice in the earth;

    and the coastlands wait for his teaching.

Thus says God, the Lord,

    who created the heavens and stretched them out,

    who spread out the earth and what comes from it,

who gives breath to the people upon it

    and spirit to those who walk in it:

I am the Lord, I have called you in righteousness,

    I have taken you by the hand and kept you;

I have given you as a covenant to the people,

    a light to the nations,

    to open the eyes that are blind,

to bring out the prisoners from the dungeon,

    from the prison those who sit in darkness.

I am the Lord, that is my name;

    my glory I give to no other,

    nor my praise to idols.

See, the former things have come to pass,

    and new things I now declare;

before they spring forth,

    I tell you of them.  Isaiah 42:1-9 (NRSV)

“Here is my servant, the one I uphold; my chosen, who brings me delight.” This is how today’s reading opens. We, with our 21st century eyes, immediately think of this as a prophecy of Christ, the Messiah. The king long promised who would rescue Israel. After all, in our first reading this morning, we heard the writer of Matthew proclaim that it was Jesus who was the fulfillment of these very words from Isaiah 42.

Yet, there is much disagreement over who this servant is. In the time of its writing, the exiles believed that this servant - this chosen one - was King Cyrus, whom they believed God had used to restore them back to their land. Yet, if we back up one chapter, we read these words: But you, Israel my servant, Jacob, whom I have chosen, offspring of Abraham, whom I love, you whom I took from the ends of the earth and called from its farthest corners, saying to you, “You are my servant…” As time progressed, the Jewish people came to believe that it was they, as a people, who had collectively been called as God’s servants. This is a belief that remains today.

And, then, we have the coming of Jesus, who has been identified as this chosen servant. This servant for whom the world has been waiting.

But, who is the servant that this text speaks about? Well, perhaps to answer this question, we have look at who this servant is. And, also, what this servant will do.  

First, who is this servant? In the first verse, we are told. One whom God upholds and chooses. One in whom God delights. One on whom God’s Spirit has been poured out. 

Then, what does this servant do? What is this servant’s ministry? To bring forth justice to the nations. To not raise his voice in the streets or break a bruised reed or quench a burning wick. But one who faithfully brings justice. Who will work tirelessly until justice is established in the earth. One who has teachings that the coastlands - the faraway lands - wait for. One who has the support of God. One who is given as a “covenant” to the people. One who is a light to the nations. Who will open the eyes that are blind. Who will free the prisoners from the dungeon - those who are in darkness. One who is part of the “new things” that God is up to.

This servant is one who has been chosen by God for a mission of global scope, a mission that includes healing, teaching, and establishing justice. 

Justice. We throw that world around a lot. I throw that word around a lot. But what does justice really mean? Anyone want to give it a shot? 

In Hebrew, the word for justice is mishpat. Like love is a one-word foundation of the New Testament, mishpat is a one word description of the ethical foundation for all of the Hebrew scriptures. Mishpat is best defined as a plumb line. That line or standard in society by which behaviors are to be measured. The prophet Isaiah insists that to be God’s people, Israel is not only to engage in the worship of YHWH, their God, but to also adhere to the behaviors that are consistent with God’s plans for Israel. 

According to Isaiah, God’s plan extends not simply to the king and his minions, but especially to the vulnerable, the “orphans and widows,” the poor, and others who are outside the halls of power. One of the major themes in Isaiah is the futility of pride, whether it is individual or collective national pride. And those who manipulate the legal and political systems to make themselves rich and to cheat people in need. Isaiah challenges this human pride and arrogance. And claims that it will inevitably be thwarted by God. In Isaiah, mishpat represents fairness and equity. A society in which everyone flourishes. Where all find peace and fullness - which are the plumb lines of society. In Isaiah, mishpat is the equivalent to shalom. Mishpat is the equivalent to the kingdom of God.

Given all of this, it is hard to specifically determine the historical identity of this “servant” in today’s reading. What we can say with certainty, though, is that the servant is the focal point of God’s promised activity. That the servant is not only the hope of Israel, but also the hope of the entire world. 

Perhaps the writers of Isaiah intended it to be that way. To not fully explain the identity of this servant. Perhaps it is left so open-ended because this is what God’s kingdom looks like when it arrives anywhere, anytime.  Whether it is the 6th century BCE. The 1st century CE. Or the 21st century CE. Whoever the servant is, the servant is the center of God’s promised activity.

I’d like to tell you a story about James. James is a member of our food pantry. He’s 76 years old. Retired. In his work life, he was a warehouse supervisor, managing an inventory valued at over $28 million. At one point, he also owned his own machine shop. James is also a veteran. 

Five years ago, out of the blue, he received a divorce summons from his wife of many years. It turned his world upside down. Emotionally. And financially. Living on a fixed income that was a combination of Social Security and a small pension, by the time he paid his bills each month, only $5 remained. He refused to file bankruptcy, even though everyone, including the judge on his divorce case suggested it and his attorney told him to. He started going to food banks near his house in southern Louisville. But, in his words, “It was snatch and grab, knock the old man out of the way.” There were fights for food. And, because he’d had knee replacements and was a little unsteady on his legs, he didn’t want to fight for the food, even though he so desperately needed it.  One day, one of the volunteers at one of the pantries mentioned our food pantry here at Grace & Glory. He called the church to find out when it was open and was asked if there was anything specific he needed. He mentioned coffee. When he arrived that first time, coffee was waiting for him. That was five years ago.

In these five years, thanks in part to the food he’s received here - food that has allowed him to use his money to get ahead in other parts of his life. Thanks to this, his financial situation has improved. He has been able to pay off the debt left behind by his divorce and even put a little in savings. Last year, he was able to buy his first home through the VA. So, now, even though money is still tight, it is going into his own house, instead of paying rent.  

Receiving food at our pantry has allowed James to improve his financial life. It has helped in other parts of his life, too. James says that he always thought people who were poor were lazy. Coming to the pantry, he has learned that there are a lot of people who need help, just like him. This has led him to reach out more, to help others who need help, and to share his new understanding with others, too. But, mostly, James says, his experience at the pantry has renewed his faith in God. Five years ago, he felt like he was losing faith in God. He wasn’t active in his church. Since then, he’s become more active and will soon take a position as a trustee in his congregation. 

This, my friends, is what justice - what mishpat - looks like. It is when all people have an opportunity to flourish instead of just a few. When we help those in need so they can reach that plumb line, those standards of fairness and equity and of wholeness that God desires for all people. That all might be brought into God’s kingdom, into life and wholeness, into shalom.

The birth of Jesus and his death on the cross has won us forgiveness of sins and eternal life. But this is not all that Jesus’ birth and death and resurrection has done. Jesus’ coming has initiated the in-breaking of God’s kingdom into our world, with a promise that, when Christ returns, God’s kingdom of shalom, God’s kingdom of mishpat will reach its fullness. 

So, as we wait for this mishpat, with faith in God’s promises, may we also act. May we be God’s servants at the center of God’s promised activities in our world. May we, upon whom God’s Spirit has been poured, continue to proclaim justice in all that we say. And, especially, in all that we do. 

“You are my servant, whom I have chosen, whom I love, whom I took from the ends of the earth and called from its farthest corners. You are my servant, “ God says to us. “I chose you!” As we wait for mishpat, may we live fully into our call to be God’s servants to a world in need. Amen.

Preached December 16, 2018, at Grace & Glory Lutheran Church, Goshen, KY.
Advent 3
Readings: Isaiah 42:1-9, Matthew 12:15-21

God's Kingdom Revealed: For Everyone

The next day the great crowd that had come to the festival heard that Jesus was coming to Jerusalem. So they took branches of palm trees and went out to meet him, shouting,

“Hosanna!

Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord—

    the King of Israel!”

Jesus found a young donkey and sat on it; as it is written:

“Do not be afraid, daughter of Zion.

Look, your king is coming,

    sitting on a donkey’s colt!”

His disciples did not understand these things at first; but when Jesus was glorified, then they remembered that these things had been written of him and had been done to him. So the crowd that had been with him when he called Lazarus out of the tomb and raised him from the dead continued to testify. It was also because they heard that he had performed this sign that the crowd went to meet him. The Pharisees then said to one another, “You see, you can do nothing. Look, the world has gone after him!”

Now among those who went up to worship at the festival were some Greeks. They came to Philip, who was from Bethsaida in Galilee, and said to him, “Sir, we wish to see Jesus.” Philip went and told Andrew; then Andrew and Philip went and told Jesus. Jesus answered them, “The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified. Very truly, I tell you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains just a single grain; but if it dies, it bears much fruit. Those who love their life lose it, and those who hate their life in this world will keep it for eternal life. Whoever serves me must follow me, and where I am, there will my servant be also. Whoever serves me, the Father will honor.  John 12:12-26 (NRSV)

Grace and peace to you from the One who comes in the name of the Lord, our Savior, Jesus Christ. Amen.

Over the past few weeks, we’ve been seeking a better understanding of what the kingdom of God looks like. We jumped ahead, looking at the interaction of Jesus and Pilate on that Passover day, on that Good Friday. Trying to more fully understand the revelation of God’s kingdom. That, when the world offers us its truth, it is a truth that often comes out of a desire for power and control, and a truth that perpetuates hatred and diminishes life. 

The world’s truth is countered by God’s truth--a truth that is revealed to us in the person of Jesus Christ. A truth that is about love. A truth that gives life instead of diminishing life. A truth that God’s kingdom is not of this world, but, yet, that God. Loves. This. World.

We also looked at the unexpected nature of God’s kingdom. That when the world challenges us to cling tightly to our status or power as we so desperately seek to belong, God challenges us to be vulnerable. To bare our souls. To be fully who we are in all our humanity. And, in that vulnerability, to unexpectedly find connection and belonging. With God and with each other.

Today, we jump back in time to the Sunday before Passover. Five days before, to be exact. And we find Jesus entering Jerusalem for what will be his last time. We know it. But the characters in our story today--Jesus’ disciples and the crowd gathered around him--have yet to know it.

What brought us to this point? In the days leading up to the Jerusalem entry, Jesus performed his last and most significant sign--resurrecting his friend, Lazarus, from the dead. After four days in the tomb. Stinky. Smelly. His body perhaps even beginning to decay. Suddenly, he heard Jesus call his name and was brought from death back to life. This sign was the turning point. Not only for Lazarus. But, especially, for Jesus. Because it was this sign--this miracle--that was the last straw for the religious authorities. They witnessed the growing number of people who were following Jesus because of this miracle. They began to see Jesus as a threat to their own power and their political relationship with Rome. They decided that they would kill Jesus. And, not only Jesus, but Lazarus, too. Because Lazarus was walking proof of the miraculous work of this Jesus. Of Nazareth. 

As the story of Jesus’ entrance into Jerusalem opens, it is not the same crowd that surrounds him. Instead of the crowd following him because of Lazarus’ resurrection, this is a Passover crowd. It is a crowd numbered in the tens of thousands--probably around 75,000 people on top of Jerusalem’s existing population of 30,000. People who have come to Jerusalem for this annual festival--a festival that God commanded them to commemorate. A festival that remembers that Passover night and God’s deliverance of Israel from bondage in Egypt.

This festival has taken on a growing meaning for the Jews. Since the collapse of Israel and then Judah, the Jews have undergone constant captivity. First, the Assyrians. Then, the Babylonians. Then, the Greeks. And now, the Romans. As the years have passed, there has been a growing yearning for the promised Messiah--the one God promised to them who would free them. Once again. Just as with that first time from Egypt. But this time, forever.

So, as the people witness the signs that Jesus has performed--the turning water into wine, the healing of the blind man, the resurrection of Lazarus--they have begun to wonder and even hope. “Is he the one?” “Is this the Messiah?” Hoping that Jesus will be the king they yearn for. This is why Jesus rides into Jerusalem on a donkey. Because, donkeys are what kings ride after they have been victorious in battle. This is why they throw palm branches down into his path. Because palms are a symbol of victory in ancient Israel. Signs of triumph. Triumph over oppression and bondage.

Huge crowds welcome Jesus into Jerusalem for the Passover. Crowds so large that the Jewish leaders virtually throw up their hands. “See!” we read verse 19. “See!” You’ve accomplished nothing! Look! The whole world is following him.”

And, in fact, this is true! The whole world was following Jesus. Because in the very next verse, we read that some Greeks were there. Gentiles. They sought out Philip and Andrew--the two disciples of Jesus with Greek names. These Gentiles, these Greeks, sought out the disciples who were like them. And asked to meet Jesus. They, just like the Jewish people, were caught up in the fervor. In the possibility that, finally, the Messiah had come “Look! The whole world is following him.”

But, the experience of that day was deeply ambiguous. Because we know the rest of the story. We know that soon the world would reject and turn against him. Soon, he would be crucified. And die on the cross.

This is the last revelation of God’s kingdom. That God refuses the world’s “no.”  And says, “Nevertheless, I came for you.” Because, everyone gets the invitation to “come and see.” Everyone. Come and see this kingdom of God that offers a truth that is about love and life. Come and see this kingdom of God that offers connection and belonging. Come and see this kingdom of God that is for everyone. Everyone. No one out. Everybody in.

What are you looking for? Who are you seeking? As we move into this holy week, I extend God’s invitation to you to come and see. Come and see. And experience the full revelation of God’s kingdom in the Messiah, God’s Son, Jesus Christ. The Word made flesh. A revelation that is for you and for me. And for everyone. 

No one out. Everybody in.


Amen.

Preached March 25, 2018, at Grace & Glory Lutheran Church, Goshen, KY

Palm Sunday

Readings: Psalm 24, John 12:12-26

God's Kingdom Revealed: Truth

Then they took Jesus from Caiaphas to Pilate’s headquarters. It was early in the morning. They themselves did not enter the headquarters, so as to avoid ritual defilement and to be able to eat the Passover. So Pilate went out to them and said, “What accusation do you bring against this man?” They answered, “If this man were not a criminal, we would not have handed him over to you.” Pilate said to them, “Take him yourselves and judge him according to your law.” The Jews replied, “We are not permitted to put anyone to death.” (This was to fulfill what Jesus had said when he indicated the kind of death he was to die.)

Then Pilate entered the headquarters again, summoned Jesus, and asked him, “Are you the King of the Jews?” Jesus answered, “Do you ask this on your own, or did others tell you about me?” Pilate replied, “I am not a Jew, am I? Your own nation and the chief priests have handed you over to me. What have you done?” Jesus answered, “My kingdom is not from this world. If my kingdom were from this world, my followers would be fighting to keep me from being handed over to the Jews. But as it is, my kingdom is not from here.” Pilate asked him, “So you are a king?” Jesus answered, “You say that I am a king. For this I was born, and for this I came into the world, to testify to the truth. Everyone who belongs to the truth listens to my voice.” Pilate asked him, “What is truth?”

After he had said this, he went out to the Jews again and told them, “I find no case against him. But you have a custom that I release someone for you at the Passover. Do you want me to release for you the King of the Jews?” They shouted in reply, “Not this man, but Barabbas!” Now Barabbas was a bandit. John 18:28-40 (NRSV)

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

Today, we are beginning a series called “God’s Kingdom Revealed.” What do you think of when I use the term “kingdom of God”?

The kingdom of God can mean many different things to many different people. We are going to spend some time today thinking about how we envision the kingdom of God.

So, let’s begin by looking at scripture. The kingdom of God is both present and future. Let’s look first at the kingdom of God as something that is yet to come.

Let's read: Isaiah 2:1-4, Isaiah 11:6-9, and Revelation 21:3-5? 

Based on these readings what is a word that you would use to describe the kingdom of God? As you say your word out loud, I will enter them into my iPad and we will create an image out of them. It’s okay to duplicate words. And, the more words we have, the more spectacular that image will be.

Now, let’s add to this image. Often we think of the kingdom of God as something in the future. But God’s kingdom is happening right now. Here, in our very midst.

Let’s read some more from scripture. Luke 1:50-54, Luke 4:18-19, Matthew 6:10, John 1:14-15.

Based on these readings, are there any new words we need to add to our word cloud?

What does God’s earthly kingdom look like? In today’s lesson, Jesus tells us in his encounter with Pilate that he has come to bring the truth. 

Imagine the situation at the time: Pilate, with his position of power and authority, does not know what to do with this Jesus person. Pilate questions Jesus. And Jesus defies every expectation and understanding that Pilate has. And then there’s the crowd, acting like a mob, demanding the release of Barabbas.

The story feels a little like a modern-day episode of the TV show, “Law and Order,” doesn’t it? It involves a trial, false accusations, an arrest, and a betrayal. There are lies being told, power being manipulated, and innocent people caught in the crossfire. How is it even possible to see God’s kingdom and truth at work in such a mess?

What this story--this mess--provides for us is a contrast between how Pilate sees truth compared to Jesus’ truth. Pilate’s truth is in the power of a lie. In manipulating perceptions that eventually distort and misrepresent what is true. He accepts the lies that the Jewish leadership are feeding him about Jesus. That Jesus is a blasphemer. That he is a rebel against Rome. That Jesus is a threat to the social welfare. This is the truth the Jewish leadership feeds Pilate. This is the truth that Pilate accepts. It is a truth that perpetuates hatred. That diminishes life.

This false truth is countered by God’s truth. A truth that is about conveying love, rather than hatred. About giving life instead of diminishing life. God’s kingdom--the kingdom that Jesus rules--is founded on this truth. It is because this truth is not just about a claim of what the kingdom is. It is because this truth is characteristic of God. Loving. Life-giving. And, by extension, the One sent by God is also characterized by this loving and life-giving truth. It is this truth that is the basis for our relationship with God. With the Word, who in John 1, is “full of grace and truth.”

So, when Pilate asks the question, “What is truth?” he misses the point. The truth of Jesus, this Word made flesh, upon which we base our trust, is the very nature of the kingdom of God. It is a kingdom that is not from this world. And, yet, God. Loves. This. World.

God enters into this world in Jesus, who takes on the realities of all humanity--taking on our realities--we, who are susceptible to the kingships and nations of this world. 

Let’s return to our headlines from the beginning of worship. The world is filled with lies and falsehoods. Sometimes it is hard to tell what is true and what is simply loud. But we know that Jesus is the truth. We may not always understand it, but we know that we can trust Jesus. So, we are going to cover over all of these voices--all of these falsehoods and lies and fears--with what we know to be true: that Jesus is our truth.

At the end of each pew is a small stack of colored paper and a few pens. I’d invite each of you to take a piece of paper and a marker, and, on your paper, write a truth about Jesus. Something like, “Jesus is truth,” or “Jesus is love,” or Jesus is peace,” or a truth you might pull from our word cloud. You choose how you want to bury these false headlines. Then, when you have written your truth, take it to one of the headline pages and begin covering up the lies--the lies that our world tells us. 

What is truth? The truth is Jesus, who is the truth of the very nature of the kingdom of God.

God help us to hear this truth and to respond. Amen.

Preached March 11, 2018, at Grace & Glory Lutheran Church, Goshen, KY.
Fourth Sunday in Lent
Readings: Psalm 145:10-13, John 18:28-40

Invitation to Abundant Life: Thirsty?

Now when Jesus learned that the Pharisees had heard, “Jesus is making and baptizing more disciples than John” —although it was not Jesus himself but his disciples who baptized— he left Judea and started back to Galilee. But he had to go through Samaria. So he came to a Samaritan city called Sychar, near the plot of ground that Jacob had given to his son Joseph. Jacob’s well was there, and Jesus, tired out by his journey, was sitting by the well. It was about noon.

A Samaritan woman came to draw water, and Jesus said to her, “Give me a drink.” (His disciples had gone to the city to buy food.) The Samaritan woman said to him, “How is it that you, a Jew, ask a drink of me, a woman of Samaria?” (Jews do not share things in common with Samaritans.) Jesus answered her, “If you knew the gift of God, and who it is that is saying to you, ‘Give me a drink,’ you would have asked him, and he would have given you living water.” The woman said to him, “Sir, you have no bucket, and the well is deep. Where do you get that living water? Are you greater than our ancestor Jacob, who gave us the well, and with his sons and his flocks drank from it?” Jesus said to her, “Everyone who drinks of this water will be thirsty again, but those who drink of the water that I will give them will never be thirsty. The water that I will give will become in them a spring of water gushing up to eternal life.” The woman said to him, “Sir, give me this water, so that I may never be thirsty or have to keep coming here to draw water.”

Jesus said to her, “Go, call your husband, and come back.” The woman answered him, “I have no husband.” Jesus said to her, “You are right in saying, ‘I have no husband’; for you have had five husbands, and the one you have now is not your husband. What you have said is true!” The woman said to him, “Sir, I see that you are a prophet. Our ancestors worshiped on this mountain, but you say that the place where people must worship is in Jerusalem.” Jesus said to her, “Woman, believe me, the hour is coming when you will worship the Father neither on this mountain nor in Jerusalem. You worship what you do not know; we worship what we know, for salvation is from the Jews. But the hour is coming, and is now here, when the true worshipers will worship the Father in spirit and truth, for the Father seeks such as these to worship him. God is spirit, and those who worship him must worship in spirit and truth.” The woman said to him, “I know that Messiah is coming” (who is called Christ). “When he comes, he will proclaim all things to us.” Jesus said to her, “I am he, the one who is speaking to you.”

Just then his disciples came. They were astonished that he was speaking with a woman, but no one said, “What do you want?” or, “Why are you speaking with her?” Then the woman left her water jar and went back to the city. She said to the people, “Come and see a man who told me everything I have ever done! He cannot be the Messiah, can he?” They left the city and were on their way to him.

Meanwhile the disciples were urging him, “Rabbi, eat something.” But he said to them, “I have food to eat that you do not know about.” So the disciples said to one another, “Surely no one has brought him something to eat?” Jesus said to them, “My food is to do the will of him who sent me and to complete his work. Do you not say, ‘Four months more, then comes the harvest’? But I tell you, look around you, and see how the fields are ripe for harvesting. The reaper is already receiving wages and is gathering fruit for eternal life, so that sower and reaper may rejoice together. For here the saying holds true, ‘One sows and another reaps.’ I sent you to reap that for which you did not labor. Others have labored, and you have entered into their labor.”

Many Samaritans from that city believed in him because of the woman’s testimony, “He told me everything I have ever done.” So when the Samaritans came to him, they asked him to stay with them; and he stayed there two days. And many more believed because of his word. They said to the woman, “It is no longer because of what you said that we believe, for we have heard for ourselves, and we know that this is truly the Savior of the world.” John 4:1-42 (NRSV)

Grace and peace to you from our Lord and Savior, the Messiah, who is Christ, the Lord. Amen.

I first experienced “it” when I was nine years old. I was a young girl, growing up on a ranch, pretty accustomed to hard work. Carrying five-gallon pails of feed and bales of hay. I was pretty strong for my age.

So, in fourth grade, after I’d already been playing piano for five years and the clarinet for one, and after I noticed a big double bass violin sitting in our music room at the public school I attended, I was kind of surprised at my music teacher’s response when I asked if I could learn how to play this big, beautifully carved instrument. “No,” he said. “Girls can’t play the double bass. Their fingers are too weak for the heavy strings.”

You see, I’d never experienced it before. That “being a girl” limited me in any way. I lived on a ranch where everyone simply had to do whatever was needed to make sure things got done. There was no difference between what I could do or what my brother could do. 

I didn’t really know at that time what “it” was. But, I knew it felt very unfair. And that it just wasn’t right. I was a strong girl and a very musical girl. After all these years, I still believe I could have learned the double bass in no time flat and with no fingering difficulties.

As I got older, “it” happened more and more. And “it” took on different forms. Sometimes, “it” was just a little slight. Something I could brush off easily. Like getting served second after a boy in the dining hall when I’d been there first. Or silly things boys would say--”Girls are weak, but guys are strong!”

At other times, “it” wasn’t so slight. Often “it” was frustrating. Like at work, when I’d put forward a new idea or raise an issue over and over again with a male superior with no response. And then see an immediate response to a male colleague who would put forward my idea or raise my issue and immediately be heard. Or the time when a deputy sheriff I worked with, said to me, “You know, you’d get more dates if you’d act more stupid.”

Sometimes “it” was frightening. Like the time in my early twenties when I went to my usual laundromat, as I did weekly, and walked in the door to see a man sitting on a washing machine exposing himself to me. I walked to the far end and, when I turned around, everything was magically normal and it was as though I’d imagined the entire experience.

Sometimes “it” was appalling. Like the time, when, as the present of my local union at the courts in Los Angeles, I sat with colleagues and listened as they told me the stories of how, when women were first hired there in the 1970’s, there was an unspoken rule for female court clerks. That, in their case, they were expected to serve the judge in every way he required. And that some of them did. Because they needed the job to support their families.

Over time, I’ve kept telling myself “it” is getting better. That there have been continuous gains in overcoming “it.” That since I started working in the 1980’s, “it” has diminished. But then another wave washes over our society. Another movement of rising up. More women sharing their stories. Vast numbers of women posting #metoo on Twitter or on Facebook . On my page alone, many. From my 16-year-old cousin, to friends in their 40’s and 50’s and from the oldest--my aunt who is 92 years old. Over and over and over again, it seems, we fight to change “it”. Over and over and over again, it seems, we fail. We cannot seem to fully eliminate “it.” We can not seem to fully erase the sexism that continues to reign in our world today.

How did we get here? How did reach a point where sexism is so deeply embedded in our society that it seems impossible to overcome?

To answer that question, we need to go back centuries. Millenia, to be exact. If we’re reading Scripture, to Genesis, chapter 3, after the fall, where God says to Eve: “I will greatly increase your pangs in childbearing; in pain you shall bring forth children, yet your desire shall be for your husband, and he shall rule over you.” Sexism comes from our own brokenness. Patriarchy has reigned in our world for thousands and thousands of years. Over and over and over again, men have created structures that have sought to keep women in their place. Or at least the place where men believed women should be. It has resulted in deeply embedded biases that continue to exist today. Biases that are often implicit, hidden, unseen. Yet, still there. In men. And in women.

Yes, I said “and in women.” Because, ladies, we have learned patriarchy well. Often we are our own worst enemies. Tearing each other apart. Just as in a conversation I heard one day in my home church in Pasadena between two women. As they were talking about our pastor--a female pastor--one of them said to the other, “Oh, it would be so refreshing to hear a man’s voice from the pulpit.”

It is bias...it is sexism...it is patriarchy that for centuries has also caused the misinterpretation of the story that is our focus today. How often have we heard this story of the Samaritan woman characterized as “the woman caught in adultery!” Yet, if we read it carefully and we understand its context, both culturally and as it is placed in the Gospel of John, there is nowhere in this story that this conclusion can be reached. There is nothing in it that reflects that she is an adulteress. It is not there. Just as, in her story, there is NO condemnation from Jesus there. Either.  

So, what do we have in our story? We have a woman. First problem. If you haven’t figured it out from our Old Testament readings over these past few months, Israel was a deeply patriarchal society. Women were property. Good for bearing children. Not good if one was unable to bear children. A man could divorce a woman for the most minor of reasons simply by saying the words, “I divorce you.” She would then be homeless. And penniless. This was why producing a child--particularly, a male child--ensured her security into old age. And why being barren was terrifying.

Next, she was a Samaritan woman. Second problem. The Jewish and Samaritan people hated each other. Even though they confessed the same God, there was long-standing hostility between them that was centered around where God should be worshipped. If Jesus, as a Jew, had received a drink of water from her, he would have immediately been unclean. This is why, when he asks her for a drink, she challenges him: “How is it that you, a Jew, ask a drink of me, a woman of Samaria?”

Next, they met at a well. Third problem. If you recall, wells were the places where you went to meet the opposite sex. To find a wife. Or a husband. And this well--well, it wasn’t just any old well. It was Jacob’s well--a place where Jacob and Rachel were engaged and, where Jacob’s son, Isaac, and Rebekkah were betrothed. Engagements happened at wells. They were places of intimacy. Intimacy experienced as sexual tension. Places where a man and a woman were not supposed to be alone together.

Next, and finally, they met at the sixth hour. At noon. Another problem. Or at least, that’s how it's been interpreted for us these past 2,000 years. That, instead of going to the well early in the morning like all of the other women did, she went in the middle of the day, when the sun was bright and it was hot. Just so she could escape the shame and mockery of the other women. This interpretation completely ignores that this was also the time of day with the light. Light, which, in John, signifies belief and faith. 

When we lay this problematic story, as the Gospel writer has, beside last week’s story of Nicodemus, and we compare and contrast them, here is what we have: An unnamed woman from a despised people at the well in broad daylight, compared to a named Jewish leader coming to Jesus in the middle of the night.

What is the author of John doing?

Do you remember our passage from last week--John 3:16? “For God so loved the world…?”

By putting these two stories side-by-side, John is showing us who exactly is included in that world that God loved. Nicodemus should have been the one who got it, rather than this unnamed woman at the well. Instead, John places her here to show us just who God has invited into abundant life--into the living water.

You see it is not only for those on the inside. But, it is, particularly, for those on the outside. For those who finally say, “I have no husband,” with all of the pain and suffering that is behind those words. That, in her case, comes from the likely reality that she has either been widowed. Or divorced. Or both.  Because she was barren. And because she is likely now suffering the humiliation of a Levirate marriage, a type of marriage prescribed in Scripture. Where her husband has died and she has been passed from brother to brother, finally reaching the youngest who can refuse to marry her, but must still take her into his home to care for her. 

When Jesus asks her to go get her husband, it all comes pouring out. All the pain and heartache. All the loneliness and shame. Everything that she has experienced comes pouring out.

What does Jesus do? Jesus hears her. He listens. And he does not condemn her.  Not once.

This is what we must do to overcome “it.” To overcome sexism. Or racism. Or class-ism. Or any other “ism” that is out there. We. Must. Listen. We must hear the stories and we must believe them. We must listen to the pain and suffering, the loneliness and shame. And we must not condemn. So often, we recite the words of John 3:16, yet we overlook those of John 3:17. “Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him.”

Jesus did not condemn her. And, unlike Nicodemus, this unnamed Samaritan woman became a witness to him. “Many Samaritans from that city believed in Jesus because of the woman’s testimony,” our story tells us. Many Samaritans. All because of her witness.

So, let us also be like her, this unnamed Samaritan woman, who shows us what is to be Jesus’ disciple. Let us be witnesses to Jesus and to a God who loved all the world so much that God gave God’s only son, that whoever believes in him will not perish, but will have living water. Abundant life. Here and now. And for all time. 

May God grant it. Amen.

Preached February 4, 2018, at Grace & Glory Lutheran Church, Goshen, KY
Fifth Sunday after the Epiphany
Readings: Psalm 42:1-3, 5; John 4:1-42