When they had come near Jerusalem and had reached Bethphage, at the Mount of Olives, Jesus sent two disciples, saying to them, “Go into the village ahead of you, and immediately you will find a donkey tied, and a colt with her; untie them and bring them to me. If anyone says anything to you, just say this, ‘The Lord needs them.’ And he will send them immediately.” This took place to fulfill what had been spoken through the prophet, saying,
“Tell the daughter of Zion,
Look, your king is coming to you,
humble, and mounted on a donkey,
and on a colt, the foal of a donkey.”
The disciples went and did as Jesus had directed them; they brought the donkey and the colt, and put their cloaks on them, and he sat on them. A very large crowd spread their cloaks on the road, and others cut branches from the trees and spread them on the road. The crowds that went ahead of him and that followed were shouting,
“Hosanna to the Son of David!
Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord!
Hosanna in the highest heaven!”
When he entered Jerusalem, the whole city was in turmoil, asking, “Who is this?” The crowds were saying, “This is the prophet Jesus from Nazareth in Galilee.”
Then Jesus entered the temple and drove out all who were selling and buying in the temple, and he overturned the tables of the money changers and the seats of those who sold doves. He said to them, “It is written,
‘My house shall be called a house of prayer’;
but you are making it a den of robbers.”
The blind and the lame came to him in the temple, and he cured them. But when the chief priests and the scribes saw the amazing things that he did, and heard the children crying out in the temple, “Hosanna to the Son of David,” they became angry and said to him, “Do you hear what these are saying?” Jesus said to them, “Yes; have you never read,
‘Out of the mouths of infants and nursing babies
you have prepared praise for yourself’?”
He left them, went out of the city to Bethany, and spent the night there. Matthew 21:1-17 (NRSV)
Hosanna to the Son of David! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord! Hosanna in the highest heaven! Amen.
In their book The Last Week, Marcus Borg and Dominic Crossan write that there were two processions that entered Jerusalem on the spring day in the year 30. It was the beginning of the week of Passover. The most sacred week of the Jewish year. In the centuries since that time, Christians have celebrated this day as Palm Sunday, the first day of Holy Week. The first day of the last week of Jesus’ life. The most sacred week of the Christian year.
One of those two processions was a peasant procession. From the east - from the Mount of Olives - came Jesus. No longer walking, but riding. [If you read the text carefully in Matthew, it sounds as if Jesus was some kind of trick rider. I have a cousin who, before she was married and had children, was a trick rider. The ultimate trick, one which she was never able to accomplish, was to be able to ride two horses at the same time. Standing, with one foot on each.] In Matthew, we read that Jesus rode two donkeys. At the same time. Now, this likely didn’t happen in quite this way. But, as we’ve seen before, it is important for Matthew to help his readers understand that this Jesus was the complete fulfillment of the promised Messiah in Hebrew scripture. Particularly in the prophet Zechariah. “Look, your king is coming to you, humble, and mounted on a donkey, and on a colt, the foal of a donkey.”
This Jesus was from the peasant village of Nazareth. His message was about the kingdom of God. And his followers came from the peasant class. Throughout the gospel, Jesus has proclaimed the in-breaking reign of heaven. It has now fully arrived on that day in Jerusalem.
On the opposite side of the city, from the west, a second procession - an imperial procession - entered Jerusalem. It is led by Pontius Pilate, the Roman governor, at the head of a column of imperial cavalry and soldiers. They were not riding donkeys, but horses. In ancient times, horses were instruments of war. They were not used for agriculture or transportation. But to wage war. Or, in Pilate’s case, as a visible display of his power. Or, more specifically, a display of Roman power.
Imperial processions like this were well-known in Palestine in the first century. It was the standard practice for the Roman governor to be in Jerusalem for major Jewish festivals. They didn’t do this out of reverence for the religious devotion of their Jewish subjects. But to be in the city in case there was trouble. In case there was an uprising. A rebellion. And at Passover - the festival that celebrated the liberation of the Jews from another earlier empire - there often was trouble.
Pilate’s procession displayed not only imperial power, but also Roman imperial theology. The Romans believed that the emperor was not simply the ruler of Rome, but the Son of God. So, Pilate’s procession was not only a rival social order, it was also a rival belief system.
Can you already sense the coming conflict?
The rest of the Zechariah passage describes what kind of king the Messiah - the other Son of God - would be. “He will cut off the chariot from Ephraim and the war-horse from Jerusalem; and a battle bow shall be cut off, and he shall command peace to the nations.” This coming king, riding a donkey, will banish war from the land. This coming king, riding a donkey, will be a king of peace. The first part of today’s story is this symbolic act. Jesus. Son of God. Coming to Jerusalem as a direct challenge to Rome.
The confrontation between these two kingdoms, between these two Sons of God, will continue through the last week of Jesus’ life. As we know, it will end with the execution of Jesus by the powers who ruled his world. Holy Week is the story of this confrontation. But, before we go further, we must first set the stage. And so, we come to Act 2 of our story today. And to Jesus’ second symbolic act on that first Palm Sunday.
We know that Jerusalem was the heart of Israel’s religion. It was also to be the ruling seat of the Messiah. The new King David would rule a restored kingdom from Jerusalem. So, Jerusalem was connected to Israel’s hope. Central to that hope was the temple.
When it was first built by King Solomon, it became the sacred center of the Jewish world. It was called the “navel of the earth,” finding its source in God. Here, and only here, was God’s dwelling place on earth. To be in the temple was to be in God’s presence.
The temple was was also the source of God’s forgiveness. It was the only place of sacrifice. And for Israel, sacrifice was the means of forgiveness. It was only through sacrifice in the temple that certain sins could be forgiven and certain kinds of impurities could be cleansed. The temple was the place of mediation between God and God’s people. So, to stand in the temple, purified and forgiven, was to stand fully in the presence of God. So, it was the center of Israel’s religion and the destination of pilgrimage. Three times a year, the Jews would come from distant lands. We call these Jews the diaspora. After the exile and after Israel had been restored to their homeland, these Jews had chosen to remain in their countries of exile. Yet, they would still travel to Jerusalem. Three times a year. To go to the temple to offer sacrifice and receive forgiveness.
Jerusalem, although the center of Jewish hope, was also a place with very negative associations. Beginning with King Solomon, it had become the center of a system of domination. This phrase, “domination system” is used by Borg and Crossan to describe the most common way of organizing a society in ancient and premodern times. It was a system that allowed the political and economic domination of the many by a few. A system that allowed those with wealth and power to use it to exploit others and to accumulate more wealth and power. And to use religion to justify it.
Under Solomon, power and wealth were increasingly concentrated in Jerusalem. This system of domination had continued in Jerusalem even under Roman rule. The high priest and the authorities were, in effect, the rulers of the Jewish people, although they owed allegiance to their Roman overlords. They were wealthy, from the local aristocracy. And, as long as they were loyal to Rome and maintained order, they were given a relatively free hand in ruling their people. So, by Jesus’ time, the temple was not only the center of sacrifice and hope for the Jewish people, but it had also become the center of the system of domination.
This is the Jerusalem that Jesus entered on that first Palm Sunday. His message was deeply critical of the temple and its role in the domination system. From his early ministry and that of John the Baptist, both had pronounced forgiveness apart from temple sacrifice. They had pronounced this forgiveness primarily to peasants. The hungry. The thirsty. The stranger. The naked. The sick. The imprisoned. Those not in power.
So, when Jesus, in his second symbolic act that day, entered the temple and overturned the tables, he was not protesting the commerce happening in the temple. This commerce was necessary, because people traveling from far away needed animals for sacrifice. They needed to exchange their foreign coins into silver shekels to pay the temple tax. Jesus was not protesting this, but against the system of domination that was being legitimized in the temple by using God’s name. A system that was radically different from what the present and coming kingdom of God - the dream of God - was to be. A kingdom where Jesus, as the true Son of God, would be its king. Where Jesus, as the true Son of Man, would be a different kind of king. A humble king. A healing king.
Two processions entered Jerusalem on that Palm Sunday. The same question, the same alternative, faces those of us who would be faithful to Jesus today, just as it did the people of Jesus’ day. Which procession are we in? We, who have been given this gift of life in Christ in baptism - which procession are we in? We, who called to live lives transformed - lives worthy of that gracious gift of life that Jesus has given each of us. Which procession are we in? Are we choosing to follow the king of dominations systems, systems that continue in our world today? Or are we choosing to following the king called Jesus? The king who sides with the poor. With the weak. With those rejected by the world. Those with no power.
We - who know the rest of the story - are we choosing to follow the king called Jesus? This Jesus, who is a different kind of king?
This, for us, is the question of Palm Sunday and of the week that is about to unfold.
Which procession will you be in?
Preached April 14, 2019, at Grace & Glory Lutheran Church, Goshen, KY.
Palm Sunday
Readings: Matthew 21:1-17, Psalm 118:25-29
Sunday, May 5, 2019
Cultivating Laughter, Song, and Dance (Letting Go of Being Cool and “Always in Control”)
When the Lord changed Zion’s circumstances for the better,
it was like we had been dreaming.
Our mouths were suddenly filled with laughter;
our tongues were filled with joyful shouts.
It was even said, at that time, among the nations,
“The Lord has done great things for them!”
Yes, the Lord has done great things for us,
and we are overjoyed.
Lord, change our circumstances for the better,
like dry streams in the desert waste!
Let those who plant with tears
reap the harvest with joyful shouts.
Let those who go out,
crying and carrying their seed,
come home with joyful shouts,
carrying bales of grain! Psalm 126 (CEB)
Grace and peace to you from the Holy and Blessed Trinity: Creator, Redeemer, and Sustainer. Amen.
Have you ever been in a really hard place in your life that suddenly turned around? Where you were struggling and struggling and, then, all of a sudden the path was made clear for you? That’s how we find things in tonight’s psalm. It opens with a look back to a difficult time in Israel’s history. To a hard circumstance. A moment of remembering. Scholars believe this psalm was written after the Babylonian exile. After the northern kingdom had been exiled. After the temple in Jerusalem had been destroyed. After the southern kingdom - Judah - was taken into exile.
But, this psalm is not actually about the exile. Instead, its focus is on the surprising turnabout of Judah’s fate. Of a people in exile. Suddenly freed from exile by the Persians - by Cyrus the Great - and restored to their homeland. Psalm 126 is a pilgrimage song. It’s a psalm about the journey. A journey out of exile and disorientation. To a place of home and reorientation. This model of orientation - disorientation - reorientation is one created by Old Testament theologian Walter Brueggemann. It’s a model that fit Israel’s communal experience. It’s also a model that fits well for our lives. And for those times when things seeming to be humming along - a place of orientation. Then everything falls apart - that’s the disorientation. Then, just when we are at what feels like the very bottom, suddenly things turn around. They are restored. Not the same as what they were, but in a new way. In a reoriented way.
So, what’s our reaction, when everything turns around? When everything's made new again? When everything seems to work out? If we look at Scripture and, particularly, Psalm 126, we see a typical human response. “Our mouths were suddenly filled with laughter; our tongues were filled with joyful shouts.” Think of Miriam at the edge of the Red Sea when Israel had been saved from the coming Egyptian army. Or of Mary at the birth of Jesus after finding out she was an unwed mother. Our human response is to laugh. To sing. To dance.
There is something about laughter and song and dance that shouts “life,” isn’t there. Barbara Ehrenreich in her book, Dancing in the Streets, documents the importance of engaging in what she calls “collective ecstasy.” She writes that we are “innately social beings, impelled almost instinctively to share our joy.” And Brene Brown, after analyzing her research on shame for a couple years, learned that “laughter, song, and dance create emotional and spiritual connection; they remind us of the one thing that truly matters when we are searching for comfort, celebration, inspiration or healing: We are not alone.”
What makes you laugh? Perhaps it’s hearing a funny joke. Or watching your children or grandchildren do silly things. It’s not a laughing at, but a laughing with. What Brown calls a “knowing laughter.” It’s the kind of laughter that connects us. That comes from the power of sharing our lies and our stories with others. What makes you laugh?
What makes you sing? When you hear a particular song on the radio, does it ever feel as though you’re right back to the first time you heard it? There are many songs on the soundtrack of my life. There is a whole playlist of Taylor Dane songs that, whenever I hear one of them, I’m immediately taken back to my early 30’s and a crazy, head-over-heels infatuation. What’s the soundtrack of your life?
And, then, there’s dance! Perhaps dancing is the hardest because there is no other form of self-expression that can make us feel more vulnerable. Dancing is about full-body vulnerability. Have you ever watched a toddler dance? Writer Mary Jo Putney writes that what we love in childhood stays in our hearts forever. If this is true, then, dance stays in our heart even when our head tells us we should worry about what other people think.
And, that’s really the problem, isn’t it? Full-throated laughter, singing at the top of our lungs, and dancing with complete abandon require absolute vulnerability. And a lack of concern for what anyone else thinks. As we mature and are socially conditioned, we limit this vulnerability. We learn that we are to be cool and “always in control.” We do this because we want to feel good enough. Because we feel as if we don’t measure up. That we aren’t good enough. We feel shame.
Yet, all we need do, like the psalmist, is look back. To look back at God’s response to our shame and our sin. How God, in Christ, has destroyed it. And how God, in Christ, has brought about resurrection. And continues to bring about resurrection. And new life. Constantly moving us from disorientation to reorientation. To a new place.
May God help us to let go of fear and judgment and the feeling that we are all alone. May God lead us to cultivate courage, compassion, and connection. May God transform us into wholehearted people. Into shalom people. That we might experience all the laughter, song, and dance that God desires for us. And for all people. Amen.
Preached April 10, 2019, at Grace & Glory Lutheran Church, Goshen, KY.
Midweek Lent Worship
Reading: Psalm 126
it was like we had been dreaming.
Our mouths were suddenly filled with laughter;
our tongues were filled with joyful shouts.
It was even said, at that time, among the nations,
“The Lord has done great things for them!”
Yes, the Lord has done great things for us,
and we are overjoyed.
Lord, change our circumstances for the better,
like dry streams in the desert waste!
Let those who plant with tears
reap the harvest with joyful shouts.
Let those who go out,
crying and carrying their seed,
come home with joyful shouts,
carrying bales of grain! Psalm 126 (CEB)
Grace and peace to you from the Holy and Blessed Trinity: Creator, Redeemer, and Sustainer. Amen.
Have you ever been in a really hard place in your life that suddenly turned around? Where you were struggling and struggling and, then, all of a sudden the path was made clear for you? That’s how we find things in tonight’s psalm. It opens with a look back to a difficult time in Israel’s history. To a hard circumstance. A moment of remembering. Scholars believe this psalm was written after the Babylonian exile. After the northern kingdom had been exiled. After the temple in Jerusalem had been destroyed. After the southern kingdom - Judah - was taken into exile.
But, this psalm is not actually about the exile. Instead, its focus is on the surprising turnabout of Judah’s fate. Of a people in exile. Suddenly freed from exile by the Persians - by Cyrus the Great - and restored to their homeland. Psalm 126 is a pilgrimage song. It’s a psalm about the journey. A journey out of exile and disorientation. To a place of home and reorientation. This model of orientation - disorientation - reorientation is one created by Old Testament theologian Walter Brueggemann. It’s a model that fit Israel’s communal experience. It’s also a model that fits well for our lives. And for those times when things seeming to be humming along - a place of orientation. Then everything falls apart - that’s the disorientation. Then, just when we are at what feels like the very bottom, suddenly things turn around. They are restored. Not the same as what they were, but in a new way. In a reoriented way.
So, what’s our reaction, when everything turns around? When everything's made new again? When everything seems to work out? If we look at Scripture and, particularly, Psalm 126, we see a typical human response. “Our mouths were suddenly filled with laughter; our tongues were filled with joyful shouts.” Think of Miriam at the edge of the Red Sea when Israel had been saved from the coming Egyptian army. Or of Mary at the birth of Jesus after finding out she was an unwed mother. Our human response is to laugh. To sing. To dance.
There is something about laughter and song and dance that shouts “life,” isn’t there. Barbara Ehrenreich in her book, Dancing in the Streets, documents the importance of engaging in what she calls “collective ecstasy.” She writes that we are “innately social beings, impelled almost instinctively to share our joy.” And Brene Brown, after analyzing her research on shame for a couple years, learned that “laughter, song, and dance create emotional and spiritual connection; they remind us of the one thing that truly matters when we are searching for comfort, celebration, inspiration or healing: We are not alone.”
What makes you laugh? Perhaps it’s hearing a funny joke. Or watching your children or grandchildren do silly things. It’s not a laughing at, but a laughing with. What Brown calls a “knowing laughter.” It’s the kind of laughter that connects us. That comes from the power of sharing our lies and our stories with others. What makes you laugh?
What makes you sing? When you hear a particular song on the radio, does it ever feel as though you’re right back to the first time you heard it? There are many songs on the soundtrack of my life. There is a whole playlist of Taylor Dane songs that, whenever I hear one of them, I’m immediately taken back to my early 30’s and a crazy, head-over-heels infatuation. What’s the soundtrack of your life?
And, then, there’s dance! Perhaps dancing is the hardest because there is no other form of self-expression that can make us feel more vulnerable. Dancing is about full-body vulnerability. Have you ever watched a toddler dance? Writer Mary Jo Putney writes that what we love in childhood stays in our hearts forever. If this is true, then, dance stays in our heart even when our head tells us we should worry about what other people think.
And, that’s really the problem, isn’t it? Full-throated laughter, singing at the top of our lungs, and dancing with complete abandon require absolute vulnerability. And a lack of concern for what anyone else thinks. As we mature and are socially conditioned, we limit this vulnerability. We learn that we are to be cool and “always in control.” We do this because we want to feel good enough. Because we feel as if we don’t measure up. That we aren’t good enough. We feel shame.
Yet, all we need do, like the psalmist, is look back. To look back at God’s response to our shame and our sin. How God, in Christ, has destroyed it. And how God, in Christ, has brought about resurrection. And continues to bring about resurrection. And new life. Constantly moving us from disorientation to reorientation. To a new place.
May God help us to let go of fear and judgment and the feeling that we are all alone. May God lead us to cultivate courage, compassion, and connection. May God transform us into wholehearted people. Into shalom people. That we might experience all the laughter, song, and dance that God desires for us. And for all people. Amen.
Preached April 10, 2019, at Grace & Glory Lutheran Church, Goshen, KY.
Midweek Lent Worship
Reading: Psalm 126
The Ways of the Kingdom: Service
“When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, then he will sit on the throne of his glory. All the nations will be gathered before him, and he will separate people one from another as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats, and he will put the sheep at his right hand and the goats at the left. Then the king will say to those at his right hand, ‘Come, you that are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world; for I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me.’ Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry and gave you food, or thirsty and gave you something to drink? And when was it that we saw you a stranger and welcomed you, or naked and gave you clothing? And when was it that we saw you sick or in prison and visited you?’ And the king will answer them, ‘Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me.’ Then he will say to those at his left hand, ‘You that are accursed, depart from me into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels; for I was hungry and you gave me no food, I was thirsty and you gave me nothing to drink, I was a stranger and you did not welcome me, naked and you did not give me clothing, sick and in prison and you did not visit me.’ Then they also will answer, ‘Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or sick or in prison, and did not take care of you?’ Then he will answer them, ‘Truly I tell you, just as you did not do it to one of the least of these, you did not do it to me.’ And these will go away into eternal punishment, but the righteous into eternal life.” Matthew 25:31-46 (NRSV)
Grace and peace to you from God, our Father, and from our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. Amen.
If you are a native Kentuckian, you may recognize this song. Maybe even if you aren’t a native Kentuckian. It was written on night in 1931 in Harlan County, KY. In 1931, the mine workers and the mine owners in this southeastern county in Kentucky were locked in a bitter and violent struggle called the Harlan County War. In an attempt to intimidate the family of Sam Reece, who was a union organizer for the mine workers’ union, the sheriff of the county and his men, who were hired by the mining company, entered their home in search of him. Now Mr. Reece had been warned ahead of time and had escaped, but his wife, Florence, and their children had remained. They were terrorized in their own home. That night, after the sheriff and his men left, Mrs. Reece tore a page off a calendar that hung in their kitchen and she wrote the lyrics for the song. Tradition has it that the tune is from an old Baptist hymn.
This song would go on to be used in nearly every major protest movement in our country. In the fight for workers’ rights. In the civil rights movement. In the women’s movement. In the fight for gay and lesbian rights. In the anti-war protests of Vietnam, Iraq and Afghanistan. Even in today’s Poor People’s Campaign, a campaign that seeks to renew the original campaign started by Martin Luther King, Jr..
This song is a song that challenges us. To make a decision about which side we will choose. Whether we will stand on the side of those with power. Or on the side of those with no power.
In the same way, our text today is a story of sides. And of choices. We are in the portion of Matthew that is called the Eschatological Discourse - a discussion about the end times. About Jesus’ second coming. In Matthew, this discourse between Jesus and disciples begins with one question asked by the disciples at the beginning of chapter 24. It is asked by them in response to a comment made by Jesus in the temple - that no stone in the temple would remain. That everything will be demolished. This makes the disciples wonder. So, later, they come to Jesus privately and ask the question: “Tell us, when will these things happen? What will be the sign of your coming and the end of the age?”
In response to this question, Jesus describes the signs in heaven and on earth that will precede the end. Then, Jesus goes on to stress that no one knows the day or the hour, not even him. And that, while the disciples wait, they should remain vigilant, ready for Christ’s return.
Jesus goes on, then, as he often does in Matthew, to illustrate his point through the use of parables. Four parables. Last week, we heard one of the four. The Parable of the Talents (The Parable of the Ten Bridesmaids). Today, we hear the last of the four. The Parable of the Sheep and the Goats.
The main character in our parable is that of a king. A monarch. One who will sit on his throne before all of the nations with all people gathered in front of him. And, then, just like a shepherd in ancient days, the king will separate the people. Setting them apart in two groups. The sheep on one side. And the goats on the other.
Notice that, in this parable, Jesus, as he often does, makes use of everyday things. In today’s lesson, it’s about shepherding practices. It would have been common knowledge in ancient times that a shepherd tending a herd of goats and sheep would separate the two at night. During the day, they would graze together. But, at night, they would be separated because sheep prefer to spend the night in the open air. And goats, well, they like the warmth of a shelter. Plus, goats could be trouble-makers at times. So, at night, the shepherd would separate them.
It would also be a common understanding that sheep were more valuable than goats. Not only did they provide food, they also provided wool, milk for cheese, and other products. They were also used more than any other animal for sacrifice in the temple.
So the king separates the nations like sheep and goat. The sheep to the right. The goats to the left. The King will turn to those on his right. (In ancient days, to be placed at the right hand of a king meant that you were in the king’s favor. One of the chosen ones. Set apart.) So, the king will turn and say to those on his right, “Come and receive the blessings you have inherited from my Father.” They have not been placed there because of their superior knowledge of scripture. Or their exceptional spiritual gifts. But, because they have shown mercy and compassion to the hungry. To the thirsty. To the stranger. The naked. The sick. The imprisoned. That in serving those on the edges of society - the marginalized - they have been unknowingly serving the king.
Those on the right. The righteous. Do you notice that they are completely unaware of what they have done? They have not been acting in a calculated way to earn the king’s favor. But, they have simply been doing what is natural for them. They have responded to God’s gift of grace by serving those in need. They will be gathered with the king and be given unending life.
And, then, there are those on the left. Those who are not in the king’s favor. Those with whom the king is displeased. Like those on the right, they, too, have been doing what is natural for them. They have been looking out for their own interests. They have not been bothered by the needs of others. They, too, like those on the right, are also surprised to learn that they have encountered the king. In the marginalized and the powerless. And, in their encounter with them - with the “least of these,” they have shown which side they are on. They are cast away from the king. Into the darkness. Into unending fire. Into eternal punishment. Just as the unfaithful servant, the foolish bridesmaids, and the unfaithful servant.
Sisters and brothers, this can be a difficult parable for us. This discourse on end times. On Jesus’ second coming. On the judgment of the world. It is not something we like to think about. Yet, this parable is a fitting conclusion for our learning about the ways of God’s kingdom. Because, if there is no final judgment in God’s kingdom, that means that God does not care about the injustice and the suffering in our world.
But, God does care. God cares about it so much that, beginning in the very next chapter, we will see how Jesus bore this injustice and brokenness and suffering in his own body. To triumph over it. To defeat evil and death. As a ransom for all nations. As a ransom for us. For me. And for you.
Yet, even as Christ is now raised from the dead, highly exalted, and seated far above rule and authority, Jesus is not apart from us. Jesus is not distant and aloof. Jesus meets us here. In the bread and the wine, in his body and blood. Jesus meets us here in our brokenness. And continues to transform us. So that we might go out into the world and meet Jesus in the faces of the broken and powerless. In the needs of our suffering world.
Today we are commemorating the 25th anniversary of the Rwandan genocide. It was a time when those in power in that country murdered over 10% of their population, simply because they were of a different ethnic group.
So, which side are you on? Are you on the side of the powerful? Or the powerless? Are you on the side of the transformed, those who seek to live lives of service to those who have no power in response to God’s radical gift of grace? Or on the side of those who aren’t, who live in the selfish ways of the world, in the ways of their own interest instead of the ways of God’s kingdom?
May God work in us to choose the side of the weak and the powerless. To live in the ways of God’s kingdom. Ways of forgiveness, generosity, and hospitality. Ways of vigilance and trustworthiness. And, particularly in the way of service. In God’s way of service. A way that is so desperately needed by our broken world. May God grant it. Amen.
Preached April 7, 2019, at Grace & Glory Lutheran Church, Goshen, KY.
Fifth Sunday in Lent
Readings: Matthew 25:31-46, Psalm 98:7-9
Grace and peace to you from God, our Father, and from our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. Amen.
If you are a native Kentuckian, you may recognize this song. Maybe even if you aren’t a native Kentuckian. It was written on night in 1931 in Harlan County, KY. In 1931, the mine workers and the mine owners in this southeastern county in Kentucky were locked in a bitter and violent struggle called the Harlan County War. In an attempt to intimidate the family of Sam Reece, who was a union organizer for the mine workers’ union, the sheriff of the county and his men, who were hired by the mining company, entered their home in search of him. Now Mr. Reece had been warned ahead of time and had escaped, but his wife, Florence, and their children had remained. They were terrorized in their own home. That night, after the sheriff and his men left, Mrs. Reece tore a page off a calendar that hung in their kitchen and she wrote the lyrics for the song. Tradition has it that the tune is from an old Baptist hymn.
This song would go on to be used in nearly every major protest movement in our country. In the fight for workers’ rights. In the civil rights movement. In the women’s movement. In the fight for gay and lesbian rights. In the anti-war protests of Vietnam, Iraq and Afghanistan. Even in today’s Poor People’s Campaign, a campaign that seeks to renew the original campaign started by Martin Luther King, Jr..
This song is a song that challenges us. To make a decision about which side we will choose. Whether we will stand on the side of those with power. Or on the side of those with no power.
In the same way, our text today is a story of sides. And of choices. We are in the portion of Matthew that is called the Eschatological Discourse - a discussion about the end times. About Jesus’ second coming. In Matthew, this discourse between Jesus and disciples begins with one question asked by the disciples at the beginning of chapter 24. It is asked by them in response to a comment made by Jesus in the temple - that no stone in the temple would remain. That everything will be demolished. This makes the disciples wonder. So, later, they come to Jesus privately and ask the question: “Tell us, when will these things happen? What will be the sign of your coming and the end of the age?”
In response to this question, Jesus describes the signs in heaven and on earth that will precede the end. Then, Jesus goes on to stress that no one knows the day or the hour, not even him. And that, while the disciples wait, they should remain vigilant, ready for Christ’s return.
Jesus goes on, then, as he often does in Matthew, to illustrate his point through the use of parables. Four parables. Last week, we heard one of the four. The Parable of the Talents (The Parable of the Ten Bridesmaids). Today, we hear the last of the four. The Parable of the Sheep and the Goats.
The main character in our parable is that of a king. A monarch. One who will sit on his throne before all of the nations with all people gathered in front of him. And, then, just like a shepherd in ancient days, the king will separate the people. Setting them apart in two groups. The sheep on one side. And the goats on the other.
Notice that, in this parable, Jesus, as he often does, makes use of everyday things. In today’s lesson, it’s about shepherding practices. It would have been common knowledge in ancient times that a shepherd tending a herd of goats and sheep would separate the two at night. During the day, they would graze together. But, at night, they would be separated because sheep prefer to spend the night in the open air. And goats, well, they like the warmth of a shelter. Plus, goats could be trouble-makers at times. So, at night, the shepherd would separate them.
It would also be a common understanding that sheep were more valuable than goats. Not only did they provide food, they also provided wool, milk for cheese, and other products. They were also used more than any other animal for sacrifice in the temple.
So the king separates the nations like sheep and goat. The sheep to the right. The goats to the left. The King will turn to those on his right. (In ancient days, to be placed at the right hand of a king meant that you were in the king’s favor. One of the chosen ones. Set apart.) So, the king will turn and say to those on his right, “Come and receive the blessings you have inherited from my Father.” They have not been placed there because of their superior knowledge of scripture. Or their exceptional spiritual gifts. But, because they have shown mercy and compassion to the hungry. To the thirsty. To the stranger. The naked. The sick. The imprisoned. That in serving those on the edges of society - the marginalized - they have been unknowingly serving the king.
Those on the right. The righteous. Do you notice that they are completely unaware of what they have done? They have not been acting in a calculated way to earn the king’s favor. But, they have simply been doing what is natural for them. They have responded to God’s gift of grace by serving those in need. They will be gathered with the king and be given unending life.
And, then, there are those on the left. Those who are not in the king’s favor. Those with whom the king is displeased. Like those on the right, they, too, have been doing what is natural for them. They have been looking out for their own interests. They have not been bothered by the needs of others. They, too, like those on the right, are also surprised to learn that they have encountered the king. In the marginalized and the powerless. And, in their encounter with them - with the “least of these,” they have shown which side they are on. They are cast away from the king. Into the darkness. Into unending fire. Into eternal punishment. Just as the unfaithful servant, the foolish bridesmaids, and the unfaithful servant.
Sisters and brothers, this can be a difficult parable for us. This discourse on end times. On Jesus’ second coming. On the judgment of the world. It is not something we like to think about. Yet, this parable is a fitting conclusion for our learning about the ways of God’s kingdom. Because, if there is no final judgment in God’s kingdom, that means that God does not care about the injustice and the suffering in our world.
But, God does care. God cares about it so much that, beginning in the very next chapter, we will see how Jesus bore this injustice and brokenness and suffering in his own body. To triumph over it. To defeat evil and death. As a ransom for all nations. As a ransom for us. For me. And for you.
Yet, even as Christ is now raised from the dead, highly exalted, and seated far above rule and authority, Jesus is not apart from us. Jesus is not distant and aloof. Jesus meets us here. In the bread and the wine, in his body and blood. Jesus meets us here in our brokenness. And continues to transform us. So that we might go out into the world and meet Jesus in the faces of the broken and powerless. In the needs of our suffering world.
Today we are commemorating the 25th anniversary of the Rwandan genocide. It was a time when those in power in that country murdered over 10% of their population, simply because they were of a different ethnic group.
So, which side are you on? Are you on the side of the powerful? Or the powerless? Are you on the side of the transformed, those who seek to live lives of service to those who have no power in response to God’s radical gift of grace? Or on the side of those who aren’t, who live in the selfish ways of the world, in the ways of their own interest instead of the ways of God’s kingdom?
May God work in us to choose the side of the weak and the powerless. To live in the ways of God’s kingdom. Ways of forgiveness, generosity, and hospitality. Ways of vigilance and trustworthiness. And, particularly in the way of service. In God’s way of service. A way that is so desperately needed by our broken world. May God grant it. Amen.
Preached April 7, 2019, at Grace & Glory Lutheran Church, Goshen, KY.
Fifth Sunday in Lent
Readings: Matthew 25:31-46, Psalm 98:7-9
Cultivating Play and Rest (Letting Go of Exhaustion as a Status Symbol and Productivity as Self-Worth)
The one whose wrongdoing is forgiven,
whose sin is covered over, is truly happy!
The one the Lord doesn’t consider guilty—
in whose spirit there is no dishonesty—
that one is truly happy!
When I kept quiet, my bones wore out;
I was groaning all day long—
every day, every night!—
because your hand was heavy upon me.
My energy was sapped as if in a summer drought. Selah
So I admitted my sin to you;
I didn’t conceal my guilt.
“I’ll confess my sins to the Lord, ” is what I said.
Then you removed the guilt of my sin. Selah
That’s why all the faithful should pray to you during troubled times,
so that a great flood of water won’t reach them.
You are my secret hideout!
You protect me from trouble.
You surround me with songs of rescue! Selah
I will instruct you and teach you
about the direction you should go.
I’ll advise you and keep my eye on you.
Don’t be like some senseless horse or mule,
whose movement must be controlled
with a bit and a bridle.
Don’t be anything like that!
The pain of the wicked is severe,
but faithful love surrounds the one who trusts the Lord.
You who are righteous, rejoice in the Lord and be glad!
All you whose hearts are right, sing out in joy! Psalm 32 (CEB)
Grace and peace to you from the Holy and Blessed Trinity: Creator, Redeemer, and Sustainer. Amen.
Do you play? Do you fool around much? My father was a great practical jokester. He loved to sneak up on us during the summer as we were playing outside and completely surprise us by dumping 5-gallon bucket of waters on us. This would then turn into this ferocious game of gotcha. Back and forth, we would play this game for entire afternoons and, by the end of the day, we’d come inside for dinner, all of us, including my father, dripping wet.
What’s not unusual about this picture is that we, as children, were engaged in play. What is unusual is that my father was, too. As farmer and rancher, he was always busy. If there wasn't cattle to feed or haying to be done, there was always machinery to be repaired or fences to be fixed. And, yet, he always took time out to play. As an adult.
On these Wednesday evenings, we’ve been considering the psalms along with elements of a book written by Dr. Brene Brown, a research professor at the University of Houston College of Social Work. Her book is The Gifts of Imperfection.
As she has studied what it means to be wholehearted people - or shalom people - Dr. Brown has found that play and rest are important components of wholehearted living. In trying to more fully understand why play and rest are so important, she came across the work of another Dr. Brown - Dr. Stuart Brown, who is a psychiatrist, clinical researcher, and founder of the National Institute for Play. In his research, he has found that play shapes our brain and helps us foster empathy. It helps us navigate complex social groups. And it is at the core of creativity and innovation. One of the key components of play he has found is that play must be “purposeless.”
Purposeless. That seems like a shameful word in our world today, doesn’t it? To be without purpose.
If you’re at all like me, you have a to-do list that never seems to end. My own sense of worth is very connected to being able to check things off that list. It’s a sense of worth that is tied to productivity and to net worth. So much so that the idea of spending time doing anything unrelated to my to-do list actually creates stress for me. Perhaps you are the same. As Brene Brown puts it, “[W]e convince ourselves that playing is a waste of precious time. We even convince ourselves that sleep is a terrible use of our time.” Because we need to get stuff done. We are a nation of exhausted and overstressed adults raising overscheduled children.
Early in this series we talked about the connection between original sin and shame. Remember the story of Adam and Eve? They were given the job to care for the Garden of Eden. Yet, each afternoon God would meet them and walk with them in the garden, doing nothing other than basking in the beauty and joy of what God had created. This time of play and of rest that Adam and Eve experienced with God was eventually broken by sin. And then shame. Shame for their nakedness. And a sense they were no longer good enough to take that afternoon stroll with God. That they were no longer worthy to play and to rest.
How much are we like them? How much do we hold onto our sin and sense of shame and guilt that we are not good enough? How much is our own worthiness tied up in our accomplishments and our productivity? How more exhausted must we become? Holding on to this has a devastating physical effect upon us. It can lead to depression, chronic disease, and deep tiredness. Even the psalmist in tonight’s reading recognizes this: “When I kept quiet, my bones wore out; I was groaning all day long— every day, every night!”
God’s “heavy hand” works to give us an awareness of the need for our repentance. And for letting go of our shame and guilt. Yet, we stubbornly refuse to yield to God. But God knows that, if we only share this shame and guilt - this false sense of worth measured by our productivity and manifested in our exhaustion - it is only then that healing forgiveness comes. And the flood waters of our lives subside. And the pressures diminish.
What in your life brings you joy and meaning? How might you incorporate more purposeless play and rest in your life, knowing that your worth in God’s eyes is NOT tied to your productivity? But to who you are. A beloved child of God created in God’s own image.
You who are righteous, rejoice in the Lord and be glad! All you whose hearts are right, sing out in joy! Amen.
Preached April 3, 2019, at Grace & Glory Lutheran Church, Goshen, KY.
Midweek Lent Worship
Reading: Psalm 32
whose sin is covered over, is truly happy!
The one the Lord doesn’t consider guilty—
in whose spirit there is no dishonesty—
that one is truly happy!
When I kept quiet, my bones wore out;
I was groaning all day long—
every day, every night!—
because your hand was heavy upon me.
My energy was sapped as if in a summer drought. Selah
So I admitted my sin to you;
I didn’t conceal my guilt.
“I’ll confess my sins to the Lord, ” is what I said.
Then you removed the guilt of my sin. Selah
That’s why all the faithful should pray to you during troubled times,
so that a great flood of water won’t reach them.
You are my secret hideout!
You protect me from trouble.
You surround me with songs of rescue! Selah
I will instruct you and teach you
about the direction you should go.
I’ll advise you and keep my eye on you.
Don’t be like some senseless horse or mule,
whose movement must be controlled
with a bit and a bridle.
Don’t be anything like that!
The pain of the wicked is severe,
but faithful love surrounds the one who trusts the Lord.
You who are righteous, rejoice in the Lord and be glad!
All you whose hearts are right, sing out in joy! Psalm 32 (CEB)
Grace and peace to you from the Holy and Blessed Trinity: Creator, Redeemer, and Sustainer. Amen.
Do you play? Do you fool around much? My father was a great practical jokester. He loved to sneak up on us during the summer as we were playing outside and completely surprise us by dumping 5-gallon bucket of waters on us. This would then turn into this ferocious game of gotcha. Back and forth, we would play this game for entire afternoons and, by the end of the day, we’d come inside for dinner, all of us, including my father, dripping wet.
What’s not unusual about this picture is that we, as children, were engaged in play. What is unusual is that my father was, too. As farmer and rancher, he was always busy. If there wasn't cattle to feed or haying to be done, there was always machinery to be repaired or fences to be fixed. And, yet, he always took time out to play. As an adult.
On these Wednesday evenings, we’ve been considering the psalms along with elements of a book written by Dr. Brene Brown, a research professor at the University of Houston College of Social Work. Her book is The Gifts of Imperfection.
As she has studied what it means to be wholehearted people - or shalom people - Dr. Brown has found that play and rest are important components of wholehearted living. In trying to more fully understand why play and rest are so important, she came across the work of another Dr. Brown - Dr. Stuart Brown, who is a psychiatrist, clinical researcher, and founder of the National Institute for Play. In his research, he has found that play shapes our brain and helps us foster empathy. It helps us navigate complex social groups. And it is at the core of creativity and innovation. One of the key components of play he has found is that play must be “purposeless.”
Purposeless. That seems like a shameful word in our world today, doesn’t it? To be without purpose.
If you’re at all like me, you have a to-do list that never seems to end. My own sense of worth is very connected to being able to check things off that list. It’s a sense of worth that is tied to productivity and to net worth. So much so that the idea of spending time doing anything unrelated to my to-do list actually creates stress for me. Perhaps you are the same. As Brene Brown puts it, “[W]e convince ourselves that playing is a waste of precious time. We even convince ourselves that sleep is a terrible use of our time.” Because we need to get stuff done. We are a nation of exhausted and overstressed adults raising overscheduled children.
Early in this series we talked about the connection between original sin and shame. Remember the story of Adam and Eve? They were given the job to care for the Garden of Eden. Yet, each afternoon God would meet them and walk with them in the garden, doing nothing other than basking in the beauty and joy of what God had created. This time of play and of rest that Adam and Eve experienced with God was eventually broken by sin. And then shame. Shame for their nakedness. And a sense they were no longer good enough to take that afternoon stroll with God. That they were no longer worthy to play and to rest.
How much are we like them? How much do we hold onto our sin and sense of shame and guilt that we are not good enough? How much is our own worthiness tied up in our accomplishments and our productivity? How more exhausted must we become? Holding on to this has a devastating physical effect upon us. It can lead to depression, chronic disease, and deep tiredness. Even the psalmist in tonight’s reading recognizes this: “When I kept quiet, my bones wore out; I was groaning all day long— every day, every night!”
God’s “heavy hand” works to give us an awareness of the need for our repentance. And for letting go of our shame and guilt. Yet, we stubbornly refuse to yield to God. But God knows that, if we only share this shame and guilt - this false sense of worth measured by our productivity and manifested in our exhaustion - it is only then that healing forgiveness comes. And the flood waters of our lives subside. And the pressures diminish.
What in your life brings you joy and meaning? How might you incorporate more purposeless play and rest in your life, knowing that your worth in God’s eyes is NOT tied to your productivity? But to who you are. A beloved child of God created in God’s own image.
You who are righteous, rejoice in the Lord and be glad! All you whose hearts are right, sing out in joy! Amen.
Preached April 3, 2019, at Grace & Glory Lutheran Church, Goshen, KY.
Midweek Lent Worship
Reading: Psalm 32
The Ways of the Kingdom: Trustworthiness
“For it is as if a man, going on a journey, summoned his slaves and entrusted his property to them; to one he gave five talents, to another two, to another one, to each according to his ability. Then he went away. The one who had received the five talents went off at once and traded with them, and made five more talents. In the same way, the one who had the two talents made two more talents. But the one who had received the one talent went off and dug a hole in the ground and hid his master’s money. After a long time the master of those slaves came and settled accounts with them. Then the one who had received the five talents came forward, bringing five more talents, saying, ‘Master, you handed over to me five talents; see, I have made five more talents.’ His master said to him, ‘Well done, good and trustworthy slave; you have been trustworthy in a few things, I will put you in charge of many things; enter into the joy of your master.’ And the one with the two talents also came forward, saying, ‘Master, you handed over to me two talents; see, I have made two more talents.’ His master said to him, ‘Well done, good and trustworthy slave; you have been trustworthy in a few things, I will put you in charge of many things; enter into the joy of your master.’ Then the one who had received the one talent also came forward, saying, ‘Master, I knew that you were a harsh man, reaping where you did not sow, and gathering where you did not scatter seed; so I was afraid, and I went and hid your talent in the ground. Here you have what is yours.’ But his master replied, ‘You wicked and lazy slave! You knew, did you, that I reap where I did not sow, and gather where I did not scatter? Then you ought to have invested my money with the bankers, and on my return I would have received what was my own with interest. So take the talent from him, and give it to the one with the ten talents. For to all those who have, more will be given, and they will have an abundance; but from those who have nothing, even what they have will be taken away. As for this worthless slave, throw him into the outer darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.’ Matthew 25:14-30 (NRSV)
You don’t know me. But, we have a lot in common. You are people of the Good News. So was I. You are people, this year, learning from Matthew’s gospel. When I was alive, I did, too. The difference between us was that I heard Matthew’s gospel from Matthew himself. I was a member of Matthew’s church and of the community that centered itself around Matthew’s teachings in the late first century, around year 80 of the Common Era, which we are all part of.
Ours was a time of complete chaos. In the year 70, Jerusalem was completely destroyed. And just as Jesus has predicted, the temple was also destroyed. You have to understand how hard that was on our faith and our ancestry. With the destruction of the temple, we lost the entire structure of our religion. It would almost be like if, in your country, all of your churches would be destroyed. But, that would only be part of it. Because the temple was everything to us. It was the place we went to make sacrifice. To receive forgiveness. And blessing. To hear the Torah read and interpreted. It was completely central to our faith.
By my time, many of the different sects in our faith had disappeared. The priests. The Essenes. And others. This left only two remaining groups, each one claiming to be the heir to our faith. And the ones to interpret our religious traditions. These two groups were the Pharisees and the Christians. I am a Christian.
Without the temple, the center of our religion shifted to synagogues, which are more like your churches. They were decentralized. Based in different communities and contexts. In our synagogue, we would hear Matthew tell stories about Jesus and Jesus’ teachings. None of these were written down until our time. Mark’s community wrote theirs first. Then, our community wrote what you’ve been reading. The good news of Matthew. As we heard these early stories about Jesus and Jesus’ teachings, Matthew would try to help us understand who we were in this battle of ideas and religious beliefs. He would emphasize that our beliefs were the ones that were consistent with what Jesus taught. Not the Pharisees’ traditions.
So, what does all of this have to do with the parable that you heard today? Well, the parable part of a teaching in chapters 24 and 25 of our gospel. Today, your scholars call this Matthew’s “Eschatological Discourse.” Eschatology is a fancy name for the study of the end times. For teachings about the parousia, which is a fancy Greek word that means Jesus’ second coming.
You see, we expected to see Jesus come again in our lifetime. Jesus’ coming to earth, as we understood it, was the beginning of God’s reign here on earth. It was the beginning. But not the end. So, the disciples wanted to know what the signs would be of his second coming. Jesus talked about the chaos that would happen, chaos that felt a lot like our own time. And that might feel like your’s, too. But, Jesus told them not to be fooled. That these things would not mark the end.
Then, Jesus told them what would mark the end. That the sun would become dark. The moon wouldn’t give off its light. The stars would fall from the sky and the planets and other heavenly bodies would be shaken. Then, his sign - the sign of the Human One - would appear in the sky. That would mark the end. That would be the time that the Chosen Ones would be gathered from the four corners of the earth.
So, Jesus told them that they had to be prepared. They had to keep watch. Because no one, not even Jesus, would know when this would happen. Only God would.
Matthew told us the disciples had a hard time understanding this. So, Jesus told them four parables. The first two - the parable of the Faithful and the Unfaithful Servants and the parable of the Ten Young Women - we’ll save for another time. Today, I want to help you understand the Parable of the Talents.
First of all, you need to understand the meaning of the word “talent.” You use it very differently than we did. For us, a talent was money. It was a coin that was equal to fifteen years’ wages. It was the largest sum of money in our world. You might compare it to a million dollars in your world.
So, in the parable, there is a wealthy landowner who goes on a long trip. This wasn’t unusual in our world. Many wealthy people traveled to distant places for long periods of time. So, while they were gone, they would entrust us to manage their affairs.
What is unusual with this story is how much the servants were entrusted with. The wealthy landowner took a big risk in giving out these large sums of money. Each of the servants was given an amount that was consistent with their abilities.
So, the first one was given 5 talents. Think 5 million dollars. He worked quickly and efficiently. Starting a business. You would say that he was an entrepreneur with a start up. He invested all 5 million dollars into it. It was huge risk.
The second one was given 2 talents. Like the first, he, too, created a start up. Investing his entire 2 million dollars into it. Another big risk-taker.
The third one was given 1 talent. In your terms, 1 million dollars. But, he was different that the first two. He acted in a way that was typical in our time. Because burying money was the safest way to protect it in our day. Plus, whoever buried the money was not considered liable for it. So, he acted properly. According the standards of our day.
Then, after a long time away, the wealthy owner returned to settle his accounts with his three servants. When he heard of the success of the first two, he called them “good” and “faithful.” The owner had taken a huge risk in trusting them with so much of his money. The two servants had taken huge risks. But the risks paid off for everyone. Because of this, the owner gave them more responsibility. He asked them to risk more.
Then, there is the third servant. Probably not very different from you and I. Following the accepted practices of his time. But, there is a problem. This servant has not taken any risks. He has played it safe. He is afraid of the owner. And, because of this, he has hidden the money. Buried it. When he returns the same amount of money to the owner, the owner is furious. He calls him “lazy,” which is a word that would be used for someone who lacks the desire to do any work. Someone who allows safety and convenience to keep them from moving from thought to action. So, the money given to this servant is taken away. It is given to the first servant, who now has $11 million. The owner sends the third servant away. To the same place as the evildoers, the improperly clothed guest from the parable you heard last week. Away from the owner’s presence.
Sisters and brothers, this story is about you and I. We are all waiting for Jesus’ second coming. But this story is not about the parousia. It’s not about Jesus’ second coming. It’s about how we are to live as we wait. We are all people of the “already” and the “not yet.” We all live in the tension of the time between Jesus’ first coming and his second. Between the in-breaking of God’s reign into our world and the fullness of time, when God alone will rule over this earth. When all evil will be destroyed.
This story is about how you and I are to live in this in-between time. As Jesus people. A Jesus who was rejected and crucified for us. Who was resurrected for us. Unlike the owner in the parable, Jesus promises to be with us. To walk beside us. Because, you see, God has taken a huge risk with us. God has poured out God’s grace on us in abundance. So, while we are waiting. While we are living in the tension of the already/not, we are to be trustworthy with that grace. Not to be people of comfort and complacency. But to be risk-takers like the first two servants. Risk-takers with God’s abundant grace.
“For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it.”
Are you ready to risk?
Preached March 31, 2019, at Grace & Glory Lutheran Church, Goshen, KY.
Fourth Sunday in Lent
Readings: Matthew 25:14-30, Psalm 43:3-4
You don’t know me. But, we have a lot in common. You are people of the Good News. So was I. You are people, this year, learning from Matthew’s gospel. When I was alive, I did, too. The difference between us was that I heard Matthew’s gospel from Matthew himself. I was a member of Matthew’s church and of the community that centered itself around Matthew’s teachings in the late first century, around year 80 of the Common Era, which we are all part of.
Ours was a time of complete chaos. In the year 70, Jerusalem was completely destroyed. And just as Jesus has predicted, the temple was also destroyed. You have to understand how hard that was on our faith and our ancestry. With the destruction of the temple, we lost the entire structure of our religion. It would almost be like if, in your country, all of your churches would be destroyed. But, that would only be part of it. Because the temple was everything to us. It was the place we went to make sacrifice. To receive forgiveness. And blessing. To hear the Torah read and interpreted. It was completely central to our faith.
By my time, many of the different sects in our faith had disappeared. The priests. The Essenes. And others. This left only two remaining groups, each one claiming to be the heir to our faith. And the ones to interpret our religious traditions. These two groups were the Pharisees and the Christians. I am a Christian.
Without the temple, the center of our religion shifted to synagogues, which are more like your churches. They were decentralized. Based in different communities and contexts. In our synagogue, we would hear Matthew tell stories about Jesus and Jesus’ teachings. None of these were written down until our time. Mark’s community wrote theirs first. Then, our community wrote what you’ve been reading. The good news of Matthew. As we heard these early stories about Jesus and Jesus’ teachings, Matthew would try to help us understand who we were in this battle of ideas and religious beliefs. He would emphasize that our beliefs were the ones that were consistent with what Jesus taught. Not the Pharisees’ traditions.
So, what does all of this have to do with the parable that you heard today? Well, the parable part of a teaching in chapters 24 and 25 of our gospel. Today, your scholars call this Matthew’s “Eschatological Discourse.” Eschatology is a fancy name for the study of the end times. For teachings about the parousia, which is a fancy Greek word that means Jesus’ second coming.
You see, we expected to see Jesus come again in our lifetime. Jesus’ coming to earth, as we understood it, was the beginning of God’s reign here on earth. It was the beginning. But not the end. So, the disciples wanted to know what the signs would be of his second coming. Jesus talked about the chaos that would happen, chaos that felt a lot like our own time. And that might feel like your’s, too. But, Jesus told them not to be fooled. That these things would not mark the end.
Then, Jesus told them what would mark the end. That the sun would become dark. The moon wouldn’t give off its light. The stars would fall from the sky and the planets and other heavenly bodies would be shaken. Then, his sign - the sign of the Human One - would appear in the sky. That would mark the end. That would be the time that the Chosen Ones would be gathered from the four corners of the earth.
So, Jesus told them that they had to be prepared. They had to keep watch. Because no one, not even Jesus, would know when this would happen. Only God would.
Matthew told us the disciples had a hard time understanding this. So, Jesus told them four parables. The first two - the parable of the Faithful and the Unfaithful Servants and the parable of the Ten Young Women - we’ll save for another time. Today, I want to help you understand the Parable of the Talents.
First of all, you need to understand the meaning of the word “talent.” You use it very differently than we did. For us, a talent was money. It was a coin that was equal to fifteen years’ wages. It was the largest sum of money in our world. You might compare it to a million dollars in your world.
So, in the parable, there is a wealthy landowner who goes on a long trip. This wasn’t unusual in our world. Many wealthy people traveled to distant places for long periods of time. So, while they were gone, they would entrust us to manage their affairs.
What is unusual with this story is how much the servants were entrusted with. The wealthy landowner took a big risk in giving out these large sums of money. Each of the servants was given an amount that was consistent with their abilities.
So, the first one was given 5 talents. Think 5 million dollars. He worked quickly and efficiently. Starting a business. You would say that he was an entrepreneur with a start up. He invested all 5 million dollars into it. It was huge risk.
The second one was given 2 talents. Like the first, he, too, created a start up. Investing his entire 2 million dollars into it. Another big risk-taker.
The third one was given 1 talent. In your terms, 1 million dollars. But, he was different that the first two. He acted in a way that was typical in our time. Because burying money was the safest way to protect it in our day. Plus, whoever buried the money was not considered liable for it. So, he acted properly. According the standards of our day.
Then, after a long time away, the wealthy owner returned to settle his accounts with his three servants. When he heard of the success of the first two, he called them “good” and “faithful.” The owner had taken a huge risk in trusting them with so much of his money. The two servants had taken huge risks. But the risks paid off for everyone. Because of this, the owner gave them more responsibility. He asked them to risk more.
Then, there is the third servant. Probably not very different from you and I. Following the accepted practices of his time. But, there is a problem. This servant has not taken any risks. He has played it safe. He is afraid of the owner. And, because of this, he has hidden the money. Buried it. When he returns the same amount of money to the owner, the owner is furious. He calls him “lazy,” which is a word that would be used for someone who lacks the desire to do any work. Someone who allows safety and convenience to keep them from moving from thought to action. So, the money given to this servant is taken away. It is given to the first servant, who now has $11 million. The owner sends the third servant away. To the same place as the evildoers, the improperly clothed guest from the parable you heard last week. Away from the owner’s presence.
Sisters and brothers, this story is about you and I. We are all waiting for Jesus’ second coming. But this story is not about the parousia. It’s not about Jesus’ second coming. It’s about how we are to live as we wait. We are all people of the “already” and the “not yet.” We all live in the tension of the time between Jesus’ first coming and his second. Between the in-breaking of God’s reign into our world and the fullness of time, when God alone will rule over this earth. When all evil will be destroyed.
This story is about how you and I are to live in this in-between time. As Jesus people. A Jesus who was rejected and crucified for us. Who was resurrected for us. Unlike the owner in the parable, Jesus promises to be with us. To walk beside us. Because, you see, God has taken a huge risk with us. God has poured out God’s grace on us in abundance. So, while we are waiting. While we are living in the tension of the already/not, we are to be trustworthy with that grace. Not to be people of comfort and complacency. But to be risk-takers like the first two servants. Risk-takers with God’s abundant grace.
“For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it.”
Are you ready to risk?
Preached March 31, 2019, at Grace & Glory Lutheran Church, Goshen, KY.
Fourth Sunday in Lent
Readings: Matthew 25:14-30, Psalm 43:3-4
Cultivating Authenticity (Letting Go of What People Think)
God! My God! It’s you—
I search for you!
My whole being thirsts for you!
My body desires you
in a dry and tired land,
no water anywhere.
Yes, I’ve seen you in the sanctuary;
I’ve seen your power and glory.
My lips praise you
because your faithful love
is better than life itself!
So I will bless you as long as I’m alive;
I will lift up my hands in your name.
I’m fully satisfied—
as with a rich dinner.
My mouth speaks praise with joy on my lips—
whenever I ponder you on my bed,
whenever I meditate on you
in the middle of the night—
because you’ve been a help to me and I shout for joy in the protection of your wings.
My whole being clings to you;
your strong hand upholds me.
But what about those people who want to destroy me?
Let them go into the bowels of the earth!
Let their blood flow by the sword!
Let them be food for wild jackals!
But the king should rejoice in God;
everyone who swears by God should give praise
when the mouths of liars are shut for good. Psalm 63 (CEB)
Tonight, we continue our gardening. Cultivating those behaviors that lead us to being the shalom, or wholehearted, people God intends. And pruning, or letting go of, those that don’t. We’ve been using two primary resources. The first is scripture and, more specifically, the psalms. The second is a book written by Dr. Brene Brown, a current research and teaching sociologist at the University of Houston. The name of her book is The Gifts of Imperfection.
Tonight is the halfway point for us this Lent. Tonight’s focus is on a key guidepost offered by Dr. Brown: cultivating authenticity and letting go of what people think. We begin with a look at Psalm 63.
Psalm 63 is an interesting psalm. It’s interesting because it is one of only a few psalms that theologians have not been able to neatly categorize. There are psalms of thanksgiving, psalms of lament, community psalms, liturgical psalms. Several different categories that most psalms fit neatly into.
However, Psalm 63 is different. At first glance, it appears to be a psalm of lament. A psalm of disconnection. “God! My God! It’s you - I search for you!” Yet, if we look more carefully, we note that expressions of thanksgiving, trust, and confidence more fully represent its theme. Look at verse 3: My lips praise you because your faithful love is better than life itself!
The Hebrew word for “faithful love” is a word we’ve heard before. Hesed. Translated into Greek, it’s the same word for grace. A word that means God’s steadfast, undeserved love. The psalmist is full of this hesed - as full as from a rich dinner. It is that hesed of God that has been the source of the psalmist’s help and protection and the reason for the psalmist’s praise and thanksgiving.
It is hesed that, for us as New Testament people, is manifested in God’s incarnation and Jesus’ saving death on the cross. An act that shows us the depth of God’s love for us. An act that shows us the depth of God’s desire that we might be whole people. The whole and gifted people God has created us to be.
How whole? How gifted has God created us to be? The answer to this is hidden in verse 8 of the psalm, a verse that we might easily miss. “My whole being clings to you; your strong hand upholds me.” This response - this act of God reaching out - is directly related to the opening cry of the psalmist. “I search for you!” What we miss, though, is that this reaching out by God with God’s right hand represents an honor that might be shown to a monarch or to a pharaoh, when the imperial god takes the leader by the right hand. According to Isaiah 42, this is the same gesture that God uses to choose God’s servant. To choose us. God views us as we would view a king. Or a queen. With the utmost dignity, respect, honor, and love. With the gifts of royalty.
If God views us in this way, how might we more fully live into God’s view of us, rather than that of the world, a world that constantly bombards us with images that we are not good enough. Or that we’re not meeting up to cultural expectations. Expectations of who we are as women. Or men.
How, in the midst of this, might we authentically be the person, or the people, that God views us to be?
In her research, Dr. Brown has found that the “act of authenticity” is actually not that challenging. The real difficulty lies with the “audacity of authenticity.” That when we say “no” to people or we don’t respond in a way that someone expects, many of us experience shame triggers around being perceived as self-indulgent or self-focused. We don’t want to be viewed as selfish or narcissistic. And, sometimes, when we do push back, the system pushes us back. With everything from eye rolls and whispers to real struggles in relationships and feelings of isolation. Or with responses that are cruel. Or that try to shame us.
Many of these triggers are connected to cultural expectations around gender. In her research, Dr. Brown has found that the attributes associated with being feminine are being “thin, nice, and modest.” And those for being male are “being in control emotionally, the primacy of work, control over women, and the constant pursuit of status.” So, to play it safe, women have to be willing to stay as small, quiet, and attractive as possible. And men - well, men have to stop feeling, start earning, and give up on any meaningful connection.
Yet, to trade in our authenticity for safety eats away at our own sense of worthiness. And this can lead to depression, to anxiety, to eating disorders and addiction, to rage, to blame, to resentment, and to grief.
Choosing to be authentic isn’t always the safe option. Sometimes choosing being real over being liked is all about playing it unsafe. It requires courage to speak honestly. When we do this, there will be growing pains. Yet, being true to ourselves is the best gift we can give the people we love. By letting go of trying to be everything to everyone, we will experience more time, more love, and more connection for the important people in our lives. And for the God who loves us. Who views us as royalty. And who desires for us to be more fully, and wholly, ourselves as God has created us.
May God help us to let go of what other people think, and to cultivate our own authenticity as God’s shalom people. Amen.
Preached March 27, 2019, at Grace & Glory Lutheran Church, Goshen, KY.
Midweek Worship
Reading: Psalm 63
The Ways of the Kingdom: Hospitality
Once more Jesus spoke to them in parables, saying: “The kingdom of heaven may be compared to a king who gave a wedding banquet for his son. He sent his slaves to call those who had been invited to the wedding banquet, but they would not come. Again he sent other slaves, saying, ‘Tell those who have been invited: Look, I have prepared my dinner, my oxen and my fat calves have been slaughtered, and everything is ready; come to the wedding banquet.’ But they made light of it and went away, one to his farm, another to his business, while the rest seized his slaves, mistreated them, and killed them. The king was enraged. He sent his troops, destroyed those murderers, and burned their city. Then he said to his slaves, ‘The wedding is ready, but those invited were not worthy. Go therefore into the main streets, and invite everyone you find to the wedding banquet.’ Those slaves went out into the streets and gathered all whom they found, both good and bad; so the wedding hall was filled with guests.
“But when the king came in to see the guests, he noticed a man there who was not wearing a wedding robe, and he said to him, ‘Friend, how did you get in here without a wedding robe?’ And he was speechless. Then the king said to the attendants, ‘Bind him hand and foot, and throw him into the outer darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.’ For many are called, but few are chosen.” Matthew 22:1-14 (NRSV)
Grace and peace to you from God, our Father, from our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, and from the Holy Spirit, our Advocate and Comforter. Amen.
Have you ever thrown a party and no one showed up?
That happened to my roommates and I when I was in my 20’s. We’d been rooming together for a couple of years and had developed quite a reputation for throwing parties. I was pretty fortunate to live with my two roommates. One of them was a former bartender, so he was always creating new drinks and, each time we had a party, he would make a new cocktail specific to whatever theme we were using for our party. My other roommate liked to cook, which was awesome. So, he was always in charge of the food and would create these abundant feasts, again, specific to the theme of our particular party. Me? Well, I was good at cleaning. So, since neither one of my roommates were very good at it, this was my job. To clean our house and make it ready for the party.
One year we decided to throw a party on New Year’s Eve, our first ever! To make it easy for people to come, so that they wouldn’t have to worry about driving home, we invited them to bring their pajamas along. And to join us in one big slumber party and, then, to get up the next morning and prepare a big brunch. It was an awesome plan!
The only problem, though, was that we made this decision just a couple of days before New Year’s Eve. So, by the time we let everyone know, they had already made other plans. We had a few RSVPs from people who said they’d come to our brunch. But, no one confirmed for the party. We were still hopeful though, so we went about getting everything ready.
Then New Year’s Eve came. The house was decorated with streamers and special lights. We had noisemakers and confetti ready for midnight. The food was awesome and abundant. And a special cocktail had been created just for this party. So, we waited. And we waited. And waited. And waited. Until it became very clear that no one was going to show up to our party.
As we sat there, drinking our special cocktail, nursing our pride, we decided that, if no one was going to come, then we were going to, at a minimum, make it look like it had been a ridiculously, crazy fun blowout part so that those coming the next morning for brunch would see the mess and regret not coming the night before.
So, we broke open bags of confetti and tossed it around the entire house. (I continued to vacuum up confetti for the next several years!) We took all the noisemakers and placed them throughout the house. Then, we created half-eaten plates of food that we left everywhere, along with half-drunk cocktail and champagne glasses, with even a couple of them turned over on their sides. It looked like it had been an amazing party!
When our guests arrived the next morning for brunch, we invited them in. As they walked in and saw the party mess, we mentioned - very casually - what an awesome party it had been and how much fun they'd missed! When the following New Year’s Eve came around, the word had spread among our friends and acquaintances. We had a packed house!
This story is a little bit like our story today - where invitations are issued and no one comes. The parable of the great wedding feast.
The king’s son is getting married. So, the king prepares the great wedding feast. In ancient times, it was customary to invite guests to a banquet in two phases. The banquet host first sends messengers to the guests, several days in advance (Unlike us!), to invite them and to tell them to be ready at an appropriate time.
The second invitation is sent when the feast is prepared; the guests are now to come. In our story, it appears that the first invitation had already been sent. The invitation in today’s parable is the second invitation. It’s the invitation that says the time is now, come and feast!
However, to the king’s dismay (and ours), the first set of guests violates ancient hospitality rules by refusing to come. A refusal of an invitation - of a king’s invitation - is tantamount to a rebellion. So, a third invitation is issued. This invitation is much more descriptive. It’s intended to engage our senses. We can almost smell and taste the food. The beef that has been perfectly roasted. The wide variety of side dishes prepared. The breads. And the desserts. Oh, the desserts! And, don’t forget the drinks. Who could refuse such an invitation?
Yet, they do. Some of them go back to their fields. Others to their businesses. Yet, others seize the king’s servants, attack them brutally, and kill them.
The king is now furious. And he reacts with force. Destroying those who have refused his invitation. Burning their towns.
The wedding banquet, though, is still ready and waiting for guests. So the monarch sends servants into the streets to invite anyone and everyone they can find. Even those whom the monarch doesn’t know. Those who live out in the countryside. Those living on the margins.
They come. The wedding hall is packed with people, good and bad. The monarch enters the hall and the feast is about ready to begin. But, just then, the monarch spots someone who is not wearing the proper clothing. We wonder, given the last minute invitation, how he could have been expected to have the right garments to wear to the feast. Yet, this is the expectation of the monarch. And, when he sees the guest, improperly clothed, he throws him out. Into the darkness.
My friends, this is Israel’s story. This is the church’s story. This is our story. It is a hard and difficult story. Over and over God sends God’s servants out. First to Israel. Then, to the rest of the world. Over and over. To come. To join in the wedding banquet. To receive God’s abundant forgiveness. To receive God’s extravagant grace. And to be rejected. To continue to invite. And to be rejected. Again and again and again. Is it any wonder that God shouldn’t be as outraged as the king in our story. Outraged at the rejection of God’s lavish grace? At the rejection of God’s hospitality? At the rejection of God’s abundant love feast?
But, God doesn’t give up. God continues to invite. And, the banquet hall will become full. Yet, in the midst is someone who, although answering the invitation, is not properly dressed. One who hasn’t put on the clothing of righteousness. One who has been chosen, but who has failed to live this new way of life, this life of discipleship. As Colossians 3:12 puts it, “As God’s chosen ones, holy and beloved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience. To bear each other in forgiveness and to be clothed in love." God invites us into a life transformed through the body and blood of our Savior, Jesus Christ.
So, who are you in this story? Where are you in God’s kingdom? In this reign of hospitality of forgiveness? Of grace and love? Have you answered the invitation? If so, are you clothing yourself in righteousness? Are you living into God’s hospitality, receiving God’s forgiveness in the sacraments? Living out God’s grace in a transformed life that others might see you and seek to receive the same hospitality and grace from God?
I pray that you are. I pray that God is transforming your heart to more fully join and experience the party. To drink and to eat deeply of God’s hospitality. To feast at God’s abundant table. To be transformed. Then, to share this gift with those who have yet to be invited. Amen.
Preached March 24, 2019, at Grace & Glory Lutheran Church, Goshen, KY.
Third Sunday in Lent
Readings: Matthew 22:1-14, Psalm 45:6-7
“But when the king came in to see the guests, he noticed a man there who was not wearing a wedding robe, and he said to him, ‘Friend, how did you get in here without a wedding robe?’ And he was speechless. Then the king said to the attendants, ‘Bind him hand and foot, and throw him into the outer darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.’ For many are called, but few are chosen.” Matthew 22:1-14 (NRSV)
Grace and peace to you from God, our Father, from our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, and from the Holy Spirit, our Advocate and Comforter. Amen.
Have you ever thrown a party and no one showed up?
That happened to my roommates and I when I was in my 20’s. We’d been rooming together for a couple of years and had developed quite a reputation for throwing parties. I was pretty fortunate to live with my two roommates. One of them was a former bartender, so he was always creating new drinks and, each time we had a party, he would make a new cocktail specific to whatever theme we were using for our party. My other roommate liked to cook, which was awesome. So, he was always in charge of the food and would create these abundant feasts, again, specific to the theme of our particular party. Me? Well, I was good at cleaning. So, since neither one of my roommates were very good at it, this was my job. To clean our house and make it ready for the party.
One year we decided to throw a party on New Year’s Eve, our first ever! To make it easy for people to come, so that they wouldn’t have to worry about driving home, we invited them to bring their pajamas along. And to join us in one big slumber party and, then, to get up the next morning and prepare a big brunch. It was an awesome plan!
The only problem, though, was that we made this decision just a couple of days before New Year’s Eve. So, by the time we let everyone know, they had already made other plans. We had a few RSVPs from people who said they’d come to our brunch. But, no one confirmed for the party. We were still hopeful though, so we went about getting everything ready.
Then New Year’s Eve came. The house was decorated with streamers and special lights. We had noisemakers and confetti ready for midnight. The food was awesome and abundant. And a special cocktail had been created just for this party. So, we waited. And we waited. And waited. And waited. Until it became very clear that no one was going to show up to our party.
As we sat there, drinking our special cocktail, nursing our pride, we decided that, if no one was going to come, then we were going to, at a minimum, make it look like it had been a ridiculously, crazy fun blowout part so that those coming the next morning for brunch would see the mess and regret not coming the night before.
So, we broke open bags of confetti and tossed it around the entire house. (I continued to vacuum up confetti for the next several years!) We took all the noisemakers and placed them throughout the house. Then, we created half-eaten plates of food that we left everywhere, along with half-drunk cocktail and champagne glasses, with even a couple of them turned over on their sides. It looked like it had been an amazing party!
When our guests arrived the next morning for brunch, we invited them in. As they walked in and saw the party mess, we mentioned - very casually - what an awesome party it had been and how much fun they'd missed! When the following New Year’s Eve came around, the word had spread among our friends and acquaintances. We had a packed house!
This story is a little bit like our story today - where invitations are issued and no one comes. The parable of the great wedding feast.
The king’s son is getting married. So, the king prepares the great wedding feast. In ancient times, it was customary to invite guests to a banquet in two phases. The banquet host first sends messengers to the guests, several days in advance (Unlike us!), to invite them and to tell them to be ready at an appropriate time.
The second invitation is sent when the feast is prepared; the guests are now to come. In our story, it appears that the first invitation had already been sent. The invitation in today’s parable is the second invitation. It’s the invitation that says the time is now, come and feast!
However, to the king’s dismay (and ours), the first set of guests violates ancient hospitality rules by refusing to come. A refusal of an invitation - of a king’s invitation - is tantamount to a rebellion. So, a third invitation is issued. This invitation is much more descriptive. It’s intended to engage our senses. We can almost smell and taste the food. The beef that has been perfectly roasted. The wide variety of side dishes prepared. The breads. And the desserts. Oh, the desserts! And, don’t forget the drinks. Who could refuse such an invitation?
Yet, they do. Some of them go back to their fields. Others to their businesses. Yet, others seize the king’s servants, attack them brutally, and kill them.
The king is now furious. And he reacts with force. Destroying those who have refused his invitation. Burning their towns.
The wedding banquet, though, is still ready and waiting for guests. So the monarch sends servants into the streets to invite anyone and everyone they can find. Even those whom the monarch doesn’t know. Those who live out in the countryside. Those living on the margins.
They come. The wedding hall is packed with people, good and bad. The monarch enters the hall and the feast is about ready to begin. But, just then, the monarch spots someone who is not wearing the proper clothing. We wonder, given the last minute invitation, how he could have been expected to have the right garments to wear to the feast. Yet, this is the expectation of the monarch. And, when he sees the guest, improperly clothed, he throws him out. Into the darkness.
My friends, this is Israel’s story. This is the church’s story. This is our story. It is a hard and difficult story. Over and over God sends God’s servants out. First to Israel. Then, to the rest of the world. Over and over. To come. To join in the wedding banquet. To receive God’s abundant forgiveness. To receive God’s extravagant grace. And to be rejected. To continue to invite. And to be rejected. Again and again and again. Is it any wonder that God shouldn’t be as outraged as the king in our story. Outraged at the rejection of God’s lavish grace? At the rejection of God’s hospitality? At the rejection of God’s abundant love feast?
But, God doesn’t give up. God continues to invite. And, the banquet hall will become full. Yet, in the midst is someone who, although answering the invitation, is not properly dressed. One who hasn’t put on the clothing of righteousness. One who has been chosen, but who has failed to live this new way of life, this life of discipleship. As Colossians 3:12 puts it, “As God’s chosen ones, holy and beloved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience. To bear each other in forgiveness and to be clothed in love." God invites us into a life transformed through the body and blood of our Savior, Jesus Christ.
So, who are you in this story? Where are you in God’s kingdom? In this reign of hospitality of forgiveness? Of grace and love? Have you answered the invitation? If so, are you clothing yourself in righteousness? Are you living into God’s hospitality, receiving God’s forgiveness in the sacraments? Living out God’s grace in a transformed life that others might see you and seek to receive the same hospitality and grace from God?
I pray that you are. I pray that God is transforming your heart to more fully join and experience the party. To drink and to eat deeply of God’s hospitality. To feast at God’s abundant table. To be transformed. Then, to share this gift with those who have yet to be invited. Amen.
Preached March 24, 2019, at Grace & Glory Lutheran Church, Goshen, KY.
Third Sunday in Lent
Readings: Matthew 22:1-14, Psalm 45:6-7
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