Our Money Story: Remember

This morning we begin the first of three weeks looking at the Lord’s Prayer. We also begin four weeks thinking together about stewardship. Now, you may say that connecting these two things  makes no sense whatsoever. How in the world does money connect with prayer? 

Well, if you’re at all like me, this makes perfect sense. Because for many of us, I would imagine, at some time in our lives we have spoken a desperate prayer to God, asking for money. Maybe it was at the end of the month, when the money from our paycheck was no more. Wondering how we might make it to the end of the month. Put food on the table for our families. Pay our electricity bill to keep the lights on. I dare say that the connection of money and prayer makes perfect sense.

So, today, we read the Lord’s Prayer, not as we generally know it, from Matthew. But, from Luke. A shorter, more condensed prayer. To the point. Just like the direct conversation about money we will be having over these next weeks. 

For us to think and to speak directly of money is to automatically invite tension into this space. We quickly want to avoid the conversation. Yet, money and possessions are one of the most common topics in scripture. Jesus talked about money more than faith. Or prayer. So, our money story is a spiritual story. Over these next weeks, you will be invited to explore your money story. To compare it to God’s money story. And to consider making your own stewardship practices a fuller expression of God’s story. And of who you are. And what you believe. 

So, we begin today, reading three short verses that we will be using for each of these weeks. Today, I am reading from the Common English Bible translation. 

Jesus told them, “When you pray, say:
‘Father, uphold the holiness of your name.
Bring in your kingdom.
Give us the bread we need for today.
Forgive us our sins,
    for we also forgive everyone who has wronged us.
And don’t lead us into temptation.’” --Luke 11:2-4 (CEB)

We begin today by considering the first verse. “Father, uphold the holiness of your name. Bring in your kingdom.”

In our book club this month, we read a lovely book written for middle school children - One Crazy Summer, by Rita Garcia-Williams. It’s the story of 11-year-old Delphine and her two younger sisters. And of their experience in the summer of 1968 traveling from Brooklyn to Oakland, California, to spend a month with a mother they barely know. When they arrive in Oakland, they learn that their mother has taken on a new first name. They’ve only heard about her as Cecile. Yet, she has changed her first name to more fully reflect who she is. Nzila. A poet’s name, she says. “A poet who blows the dust off surfaces to make clear and true paths.”

This is not something appreciated by 11-year-old Delphine. Just a few pages later, Delphine notes that a “name is important. It isn’t something you drop in the litter basket or on the ground. Your name is how people know you. The very mention of your name makes a picture spring to mind, whether it’s a picture of clashing fists or a mighty mountain that can’t be knocked down. Your name is who you are and how you’re known even when you do something great or something dumb.”

Your name is who you are and how you’re known. Isn’t that why Jesus begins his prayer the way he does? With a name that tells us who he is and how he knows God? Father. Parent. In the Aramaic, Abba? This is how Jesus addresses God and how he invites his disciples to address God. Up to this point, it was unusual to name God in this way. The Hebrew scriptures sometimes compared God to a father, but it is rare that they referred to God as Father. Jesus uses this title to reshape the disciples’ thinking about who this God is. Shifting their understanding from the angry God that the Jewish people had come to know. And instead expanding their understanding and relationship with God as one of parent and child. Giving them permission to call God, Father. And to claim their protected position as God’s own children.

Now, for some of us, to call God, Father, can be difficult. Especially if we have not had good relationships with our fathers. Or have had negative experiences with patriarchy. Yet, it’s important for us to understand that as we are created in the image of God, so God is in the image of human beings, possessing both male and female attributes. Parental attributes. Loving, compassionate, nurturing. Yet firm, establishing necessary boundaries for their children and in their relationships with their children. To call God, Father, or Abba, is to simply view God as parent.

But, as young Delphine notes in the book we read, one’s name is not just who one is, but also how one is known. However we address God as parent, we are invited to regard God’s name as holy. As God is holy. The Hebrews believed that the name of God was so sacred, that they used the word Jehovah. A word that in Hebrew could be pronounced without any consonants. Like a breath moving through their lips. Yehovah. A name spoken with whispered awe. Awe appropriate for such a powerful and deeply loving heavenly Father. A Father whose reign is not just limited to the heavens. But, a powerful and loving Father who seeks to pour out God’s heavenly reign into this world. “Bring in your kingdom,” Jesus teaches the disciples to pray. Bring in your kingdom of peace and justice. Your kingdom of love. Bring it to this world, this earth, this planet, this ecology, to these animals, to these people, even to the industry of our world. So that you, Father, might be fully experienced here. Just as in heaven. This is the prayer Jesus teaches the disciples. And what Jesus was living out on earth, offering and living into an economy, as Walter Brueggemann writes, “that was sure to collide with established economic patterns and with those who presided over and benefited from these patterns.” Jesus’ term for this alternative economy was “kingdom of God.” A social practice. And a set of social relationships there were consistent with the God of the covenant. The God of Israel. To mention this “kingdom of God,” was to call on Jesus’ disciples to remember who this God - this Father - was. [1]

It’s the same God we remember every time we celebrate communion and hear the Great Thanksgiving - the words that precede our receiving the bread and wine, the body and blood. In this thanksgiving, we remember how God moved over the waters. How God led Israel with a pillar of fire from bondage to liberation. We remember that still, small voice and then the prophets, proclaiming a new way - a new Messiah. We remember Mary and Joseph and the angels. The blind man and the leper. And the crowds that Jesus healed. Him walking on water. The little children running to him. We remember the justice he preached. The hosannas and palm branches. The love that changed the world. We remember this each and every week so that we do not forget who this God is. And so that we remember who we are. And, what our money story is to be.

So much of our beliefs and our behaviors are rooted in stories. Narratives that are personal, familial, societal, cultural, and religious. We subconsciously absorb and construct many money stories. Perhaps our money stories are about scarcity. Coming from or living in stories of fear and shame. Of never having enough. Perhaps they are stories that the church is dying and no longer relevant. Or the stories that our actions in this world won’t have any impact. 

How might we begin to unpack and reconstruct these stories to make them a better reflection of who we know God to be? Who we remember God to be. The God of scripture. The God who meets Israel in the wilderness with manna. Who, even in the midst of desperate and fearful prayers, provides. Abundantly. An extravagantly loving God. Never content with just a heavenly kingdom. But who pours out that love into a Spirit-breathed creation. To bring life and freedom. This is the God we remember.

May we, over these weeks, begin to tease apart our own complicated money stories. To rewrite them if necessary. So that they more fully reflect what we believe. Who God is. And who we remember and know this God to be. Our Father, Lord of heaven and earth. Amen.

Preached August 23, 2020, online at Grace & Glory Lutheran Church, Goshen, KY.

12th Sunday after Pentecost

Readings: Luke 11:2-4; Psalm 103:1-5

[1] Brueggemann, Walter. Money and Possessions. (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2016). 23.

Who We Are: Generosity

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

Well, we made it! We have been in 2nd Corinthians for five weeks as of today. Immersed in this letter that is considered one of Paul’s most theologically dense writings. I don’t know about you, but I’m kind of exhausted. Yet, today, we come to the place really where the “rubber meets the road.” For the first seven chapters, Paul has been trying to explain to the church in Corinth the nature of his apostolic ministry - a ministry patterned after the life of Christ. And, in turn, what the nature of their ministry is to be. And my ministry. And your ministry.

So, this morning we see how all that Paul has talked about up to now is manifested in the most practical of ways. We read from 2nd Corinthians, chapter 8.

We want you to know, brothers and sisters, about the grace of God that has been granted to the churches of Macedonia; for during a severe ordeal of affliction, their abundant joy and their extreme poverty have overflowed in a wealth of generosity on their part. For, as I can testify, they voluntarily gave according to their means, and even beyond their means, begging us earnestly for the privilege of sharing in this ministry to the saints— and this, not merely as we expected; they gave themselves first to the Lord and, by the will of God, to us, so that we might urge Titus that, as he had already made a beginning, so he should also complete this generous undertaking among you. Now as you excel in everything—in faith, in speech, in knowledge, in utmost eagerness, and in our love for you—so we want you to excel also in this generous undertaking.

I do not say this as a command, but I am testing the genuineness of your love against the earnestness of others. For you know the generous act of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though he was rich, yet for your sakes he became poor, so that by his poverty you might become rich. And in this matter I am giving my advice: it is appropriate for you who began last year not only to do something but even to desire to do something— now finish doing it, so that your eagerness may be matched by completing it according to your means. For if the eagerness is there, the gift is acceptable according to what one has—not according to what one does not have. I do not mean that there should be relief for others and pressure on you, but it is a question of a fair balance between your present abundance and their need, so that their abundance may be for your need, in order that there may be a fair balance. As it is written,

“The one who had much did not have too much, 

    and the one who had little did not have too little.” --2 Corinthians 8:1-15 (NRSV)

Throughout all of 2nd Corinthians, Paul uses these themes of giving and receiving. Of reciprocity. If we think back to the first week, when our focus was on the word, consolation, we learned that within the body of Christ our suffering is mutual. When Christ suffers, we suffer. When one of us suffers, we all suffer. We are bound together in suffering and in consoling one another. There is reciprocity - a sense of suffering and consolation, of giving and receiving. An interconnectedness.

Then, in week two, we heard Paul talk about forgiveness and reconciliation. How Paul could have, in his anger and hurt, walked away from the Corinthian congregation. But that he didn’t. And instead, he moved in. Closer to them. Forgiving them. And seeking to be reconciled with them. A true and reciprocal witness of Jesus and of Jesus’ own love and reconciliation for us.

In the third week, we listened as Paul compared us to earthen vessels. Cracked and broken clay jars into which God has poured God’s Spirit. This treasure, this life that God has worked and continues to work in us that points to Christ. A life lived reciprocally, in response to the gift - the gracious gift of God’s mercy and love.  And a life that, as we heard last week, through which we walk by faith, trusting in the steadfast love of God, and shaped by the death and resurrection of Jesus. 

Today is where all of this comes to fruition. Manifested through the reciprocity of love. If we truly believe that God is love and that the nature of this love is manifested in the life, death and resurrection of Jesus - love poured out for us in grace, then our only response can be love. Love that manifests itself in the most practical of ways. In generosity. By caring for one another, for our world, and for all that God has created.

There had been a desire, a plan generated in all earnestness by the churches in Macedonia and Achaia, including the congregation in Corinth. A plan to gather a collection of money for the church in Jerusalem, whose members had been experiencing economic hardship. Titus, Paul’s associate, had agreed to take the lead in organizing this collection from among the churches - gathered, as Paul had suggested, by each member setting aside a certain amount every week. Then gathered by Titus and delivered by Paul to their Jerusalem sisters and brothers in Christ on his next visit there. 

This is the reciprocity of love. As we have received, so we give. But note that this is not a one-way giving. Because one-way giving, one-sided giving, has the very real tendency to create a power imbalance, where those with wealth to distribute hold power and status over those without. Paul, instead, stresses equality and reciprocity. We have all been given gifts in abundance by God - gifts that may be manifested in different ways. Paul is seeking a fair balance, a fair distribution in wealth and of other gifts given to them by God. So that one with much doesn’t have too much. And one with little doesn’t have too little.

What are the implications of this for us? For us as the body of Christ in this time and place? Perhaps it is to be open in our giving. But, not to only be open and generous in our giving, but also to be open and generous in our receiving. Open to receiving the gifts God has given us and to others without resistance. Without fear. Without shame. Without trying to one-up one another’s gifts. Where all is grace. Grace that is modelled after the upside-down kingdom of God, where God’s grace is poured out generously and abundantly for us in love in Jesus. “For you know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though he was rich, yet for your sake he became poor, so that you by his poverty might become rich.

It is through this reciprocity of generosity - a generosity of receiving and giving - that in us and through us, God’s destiny is ultimately fulfilled. Amen.

Preached August 16, 2020, online at Grace & Glory Lutheran Church, Goshen, KY.

12th Sunday after Pentecost.

Readings: 2 Cor. 8:1-15; John 13:31-35

Who We Are: We Walk by Faith, Not by Sight

In these weeks that we’ve been reflecting on what was happening in the church in Corinth, on the conflict there, not only between members of the community, but between the community and Paul himself, one of the issues Paul has been dealing with is that of his apostolic authority. His ministry has come under attack. He, personally, has come under attack, with false apostles and members of the congregation challenging his attributes as a leader. That he is not polished enough. That he is not refined enough. That his speaking skills are inadequate. 

What Paul understands by these attacks is that the church in Corinth does not yet grasp the full meaning of apostleship. Not just his apostleship, but theirs, as well. 

And so, we begin this morning in the fifth chapter of 2nd Corinthians, where Paul continues the idea from last week of the treasure we have in earthen vessels. Paul’s theology was deeply grounded in the life of Christ, specifically in the death and resurrection of Christ. As this first part of today’s reading opens, we see Paul using metaphor - images familiar to him and to those in the Corinthian church - in order to help them understand the nature of life and death. We read, beginning with verse 1.

For we know that if the earthly tent we live in is destroyed, we have a building from God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens. For in this tent we groan, longing to be clothed with our heavenly dwelling — if indeed, when we have taken it off we will not be found naked. For while we are still in this tent, we groan under our burden, because we wish not to be unclothed but to be further clothed, so that what is mortal may be swallowed up by life. He who has prepared us for this very thing is God, who has given us the Spirit as a guarantee.

So we are always confident; even though we know that while we are at home in the body we are away from the Lord — for we walk by faith, not by sight. Yes, we do have confidence, and we would rather be away from the body and at home with the Lord. So whether we are at home or away, we make it our aim to please him. For all of us must appear before the judgment seat of Christ, so that each may receive recompense for what has been done in the body, whether good or evil.  --2 Cor. 5:1-10 (NRSV)

Paul begins with the metaphor of a “tent,” something that, as a tentmaker by trade, he would have been familiar with. And an image that the Corinthians would have been familiar with, as well. Many people lived in tents at this time. Paul begins with this phrase: for we know that if the earthly tent we live in is destroyed…” The word translated as tent can also be translated as tabernacle. This is something Paul does, too, in his writing. He will use a word or a phrase that just by its very use conjures up a much fuller picture. For example, to use the word tabernacle immediately connects Paul to his Jewish-ness. The tabernacle, or tent of meeting, was the structure constructed by Israel following God’s design, which was to be dismantled and moved with them throughout the wilderness. The tabernacle was the place where God promised to be present with them on their journey.

Then, the second word Paul uses here, is the word translated “destroyed.” When used, though, in tent-making imagery, this word really means dismantling. As one would dismantle a tent. 

And then, Paul continues on. Using additional metaphors of clothing and, especially, the contrast of being naked with being further clothed. 

So, what is Paul getting at? We, in the Western church, have become much more concerned about where we go after we die. But, the early Christians weren’t as concerned about this. Their focus was on God’s kingdom. And the unveiling of God’s kingdom here. “On earth as it is in heaven.” So, their groaning is not to be released from this earthly tent, but that a new and promised house might be placed over it - a house not made with human hands, but one made with God’s hands. And one that is forever. 

Paul uses these metaphors to provide a framework for the Corinthians and us to understand, not only his ministry, but ours, too. A framework that is centered around the Trinity. That the power of the Creator, who raises Jesus from the dead, is at work in us. Dismantling the battered old tent to place a new, free one over it - the new, free person God is making us into. Clothing our nakedness in new, permanent clothing. Crafting the eternal being God is making us into. 

The death and resurrection of Jesus shapes us. And prepares us for when he will come again on earth to judge. Us. And all people. Because how we live into this freedom we have been given matters. Otherwise, we simply cheapen the grace God has showered on us.

So, the pouring out of the Holy Spirit is us in our downpayment. Our security. Our promise and foretaste of this new creation. Working in us and through us to create new life. Life that often bursts in upon us. That surprises us even in the midst of trouble and suffering. We, like Jesus, move from death and suffering to life. Because we are image bearers of Christ.

This is where Paul continues, beginning with verse 11.

Therefore, knowing the fear of the Lord, we try to persuade others; but we ourselves are well known to God, and I hope that we are also well known to your consciences. We are not commending ourselves to you again, but giving you an opportunity to boast about us, so that you may be able to answer those who boast in outward appearance and not in the heart. For if we are beside ourselves, it is for God; if we are in our right mind, it is for you. For the love of Christ urges us on, because we are convinced that one has died for all; therefore all have died. And he died for all, so that those who live might live no longer for themselves, but for him who died and was raised for them.

From now on, therefore, we regard no one from a human point of view; even though we once knew Christ from a human point of view, we know him no longer in that way. So if anyone is in Christ, there is a new creation: everything old has passed away; see, everything has become new! All this is from God, who reconciled us to himself through Christ, and has given us the ministry of reconciliation; that is, in Christ God was reconciling the world to himself, not counting their trespasses against them, and entrusting the message of reconciliation to us. So we are ambassadors for Christ, since God is making his appeal through us; we entreat you on behalf of Christ, be reconciled to God. For our sake he made him to be sin who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God.  --2 Cor. 5:11-21 (NRSV)

This reforming, this re-clothing that God does in us through the power of the Holy Spirit, changes the way we look at the world. Giving us a new lens with which to view the world. Through the resurrected Jesus. Seeing glimpses of the long-promised new creation bursting into our world. And a hope that is perhaps best expressed in the words of Rev. Juanita Rasmus, pastor of St. John United Methodist in downtown Houston:

I think all things are going to be made new. You know, if nothing else, we can look at nature. You see a pine tree, experiencing some decay. And over time it falls to the ground. And over time it begins to house various animals that live off of the substance of that decay. Then, over time, that pine tree falls and crumbles. And, then, it becomes the floor of the forest and, in the midst of all of that, it becomes the basis for a new pine tree. So, yeah, if we can see that in nature, then we can see that in our own nature - in our human nature. That, indeed, all things can become made new. 

That gives me hope. That gives me hope, because I see a lot of people suffering. And I know that, even in my own suffering, God gives me an opportunity to dig down deep past all of the pain, and the disappointment, and the hurt, and the rejection, and the injustices. And in the midst of that, he'll let me see just a glimpse of something life-giving. That's what gives me hope. Hope not only for me, but for everybody.  Hope for the young African-American men who get shot because they wear hoodies or their music is determined by somebody as being too loud. I have to have hope. I don't know how I'd live if I didn't. 

So I trust that the same power that was able to resurrect Jesus will resurrect me. And that person who would shoot another person for their music being too loud. I don't want to be surprised when I get to heaven. I want to see this man redeemed. I want to see Hitler redeemed. I want to see slave masters redeemed. I want to see that. I long to see that. Because I think that is the hope that Christ offers me. That, if that pine tree can in the midst of decay become the ground of new life, then so can I. So can we. 

So, yeah, that's what I hope.*

May we walk in faith, not by sight. Even in times of deep struggle and pain. Trusting in the power of God’s steadfast love to work death out of life in us and through us, that we may become the ground of life in our world. Amen.

Preached August 9, 2020, online at Grace & Glory Lutheran Church, Goshen, KY.

Tenth Sunday after Pentecost

Readings: 2 Cor. 5:1-21; Mark 8:22-26

*Quote from Rev. Juanita Rasmus taken from a video interview, entitled The Massive Living Program, found online at The Work of the People (www.theworkofthepeople.com)

Who We Are: Treasures in Clay Jars

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

I’ve been thinking a lot this week about baptism. Perhaps, in part, because of the vast quantities of water we’ve received in rain over the past few days. Or, perhaps, it is because of all that we’ve seen and heard over these past few days about Congressman John Lewis and heard how he lived his life, with such integrity and humility, in much the same way we are called to live out our own baptismal promises.

Whatever has triggered it, I’ve been thinking about baptism. So, it led to me turning to the order that we use for baptism in our church. There are five parts to it. And I invite you to take a look at it more closely sometime. Within it, there’s a part called the Profession of Faith, or sometimes it’s called the Renunciation. Perhaps you remember it - it comes before the actual act of baptizing someone and is a series of questions asked of parents or sponsors or, in the case of an adult baptism, of the one being baptized. These are questions that come to us from the earliest centuries of the church. 

Do you renounce the devil and all the forces that defy God?

Do you renounce the powers of this world that rebel against God?

Do you renounce the ways of sin that draw you from God?

The answer to each of these questions in our own baptisms was likely the phrase, “I renounce them,” or something similar. But, that’s really easier said than done, isn’t it? Throughout our lives I dare say we feel the push and pull of these forces. Forces of evil and those that defy God. The powers of the world that rebel against God and seek to draw us from God. The sins we commit that bring us shame and can separate us from God. Yes, living into our baptismal promises is so much easier said than done.

It’s really the same challenge that the church in Corinth was dealing with. In fact, in the first part of our reading today, it seems that Paul makes reference to these very things the Corinth believers had also renounced. As in our baptisms. They, too, are experiencing the pull on the church from all sides. They are on the verge of being divided by many different factions, both internal and external. This is a new, fledgling church trying to find its way and not doing well. 

And so, as we’ve heard before, Paul has had to correct them, sometimes harshly. Yet, he knows that what they need now is not more correction and teaching. Instead, what they need now are words of comfort. And of hope. Words to help heal the wounds and guide them forward, against the pull of these forces of evil and the world and sin. Words that may feel especially written for us, too, in this time. Words to guide us. To give comfort and give hope. To heal our wounds and help us go forward. 

Which brings us to our reading today, from chapter 4 in Paul’s second letter to the Corinthians.

Therefore, since it is by God’s mercy that we are engaged in this ministry, we do not lose heart. We have renounced the shameful things that one hides; we refuse to practice cunning or to falsify God’s word; but by the open statement of the truth we commend ourselves to the conscience of everyone in the sight of God. And even if our gospel is veiled, it is veiled to those who are perishing. In their case the god of this world has blinded the minds of the unbelievers, to keep them from seeing the light of the gospel of the glory of Christ, who is the image of God. For we do not proclaim ourselves; we proclaim Jesus Christ as Lord and ourselves as your slaves for Jesus’ sake. For it is the God who said, “Let light shine out of darkness,” who has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ.

But we have this treasure in clay jars, so that it may be made clear that this extraordinary power belongs to God and does not come from us. We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed; always carrying in the body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be made visible in our bodies. For while we live, we are always being given up to death for Jesus’ sake, so that the life of Jesus may be made visible in our mortal flesh. So death is at work in us, but life in you.

But just as we have the same spirit of faith that is in accordance with scripture—“I believed, and so I spoke”—we also believe, and so we speak, because we know that the one who raised the Lord Jesus will raise us also with Jesus, and will bring us with you into his presence. Yes, everything is for your sake, so that grace, as it extends to more and more people, may increase thanksgiving, to the glory of God.

So we do not lose heart. Even though our outer nature is wasting away, our inner nature is being renewed day by day. For this slight momentary affliction is preparing us for an eternal weight of glory beyond all measure, because we look not at what can be seen but at what cannot be seen; for what can be seen is temporary, but what cannot be seen is eternal. --2 Corinthians 4:1-18 (NRSV)

Paul begins by reminding the church in Corinth - and us - how both of us got here. Solely by God’s mercy. It is nothing we have done, but what God has done. And Paul reminds the Corinthians and us that God is our foundation. Our center. Around whom our lives revolve.

Then, Paul continues on to make five important points. Creedal points almost - that serve as the basis for the lives and ministry of the Corinth church. And for ours, too.

First, Paul reminds us that our ministry is to be done out in the open. Transparently. Anytime we are fighting the powers that be, they will be on the watch for anything that can be used to tear us down. So, we are to be open and honest in the work. To be transparent in everything we do because it’s about integrity.

Then, Paul reminds us that everything we do should point to Christ. It’s so easy for us to want to be in the spotlight - in the center - of things. It’s natural. And human. But it’s not the way of Christ. And if we fall to this temptation, it has the potential to risk everything. 

Third, Paul writes that we are not impervious to pain. We are human. Made of mortal materials like that fragile clay jar. And, while we may want to hear only the positives here - that we are “not crushed, ...not driven to despair, ...not forsaken, ...not destroyed,” we cannot ignore the reality that in doing this work we will be “afflicted, ...perplexed, ...persecuted, ...and struck down.” I FaceTimed this week with one of our members who has been in lockdown in a nursing home since March. We mourned together the isolation she was feeling in this time. To acknowledge this to recognize our mortality. And our pain. Yet, Paul writes that this pain will not have the last word. Neither will death have the last word. Life - God - will.

Then, Paul writes that our faith is not silent, as he quotes from Psalm 116, these words: We believe and, therefore, we speak. When we see works in our world that are opposed to the way of Christ, our faith calls us not to be silent. But to speak out. To challenge the forces of evil at work in our world.

Finally, Paul’s last point is that while the fruit of our labor may be hidden, it is there. It can be easy to fall into despair when we don’t see the immediate fruit of our work. When we don’t see the world immediately changing. When it seems as though there is no improvement. We may begin to wonder if everything we do or have done is in vain. This is where point number two is important. Paul writes to help us remember that we are in this work and in this ministry as God’s people for the long haul. To trust in the work of the Holy Spirit. It may take a long time to sprout. So long, in fact, that we may not live to see it.  But, as Paul writes at the end of the chapter - in the same way he began it..."We do not lose heart." 

So, do not lose heart, dear friends, dear people of God. Even in the midst of all the troubles we are experiencing know that similar troubles and challenges have been experienced by believers and the church before. And know that, just as God promised life in Christ through Paul to the early church, God continues to promise life, through Christ, for us. And life is what will come. May we hold fast to this promise. In this time. Amen. 

Preached August 2, 2020, online at Grace & Glory Lutheran Church, Goshen, KY.

9th Sunday after Pentecost

Readings: 2 Corinthians 4:1-18; Matthew 5:13-16

Who We Are: Forgiveness

So I made up my mind not to make you another painful visit. For if I cause you pain, who is there to make me glad but the one whom I have pained? And I wrote as I did, so that when I came, I might not suffer pain from those who should have made me rejoice; for I am confident about all of you, that my joy would be the joy of all of you. For I wrote you out of much distress and anguish of heart and with many tears, not to cause you pain, but to let you know the abundant love that I have for you.

But if anyone has caused pain, he has caused it not to me, but to some extent—not to exaggerate it—to all of you. This punishment by the majority is enough for such a person; so now instead you should forgive and console him, so that he may not be overwhelmed by excessive sorrow. So I urge you to reaffirm your love for him. I wrote for this reason: to test you and to know whether you are obedient in everything. Anyone whom you forgive, I also forgive. What I have forgiven, if I have forgiven anything, has been for your sake in the presence of Christ. --2 Corinthians 2:1-10 (NRSV)

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

Last week we began our study in Paul’s 2nd letter to the Corinthians. We know from our previous study in 1st Corinthians that there has been much conflict in the church in Corinth. And, as we read today’s text, it becomes apparent that, as a result of Paul’s instruction to the congregation, they have acted to discipline someone. Who this person is, we’re not entirely sure, but it appears that it is this person who, during a previous visit by Paul, has mistreated him. 

And so, instead of re-visiting them in person, Paul sends a harsh corrective - the letter we mentioned last Sunday that was delivered by Titus. The letter written in-between 1st and 2nd Corinthians, which we do not have.

In this letter, it appears that Paul has instructed the congregation to act to discipline this person - to put them to the “test” as he writes in verse 9, to see if they would obey his instruction.

Now it might seem as though Paul is on a bit of a power trip here. And, perhaps, that’s true. Or, perhaps, Paul, in issuing his instructions to the congregation, is testing the partnership - the koinonos we spoke of last week between the church and Paul, who has been as their pastoral leader called to them by Christ. Can they trust him - do they trust him to tell them the right thing to do, to guide them in dealing with this issue within the congregation? Paul writes in verse 4 that his corrective to them isn’t written to pain them or make them sad. But, that it is written out of overwhelming love for them.

What Paul knows and has written about in the first chapter is that the community’s life is bound up together in Christ. When someone in a community is allowed license to go on sinning with no restraint, the whole community is harmed. Too often, the church - at least in modern times - has been so reticent to cause sorrow, that it has backed away from confrontation and even discipline. And, certainly, at times, the church has made the mistake in the opposite direction. But, Paul’s point is that a balance must be struck. As much as we want to have peace in our community, sin must also be confronted. To do otherwise is to give a weak witness to the world - a witness that says our gospel belief doesn’t really matter. 

Yet, at the same token, discipline must not be unending. So, Paul now asks them to forgive and to forget. To welcome this person back into the congregation - to reconcile with them. The word Paul uses here for “forgive” in the Greek is charizomai, which means to “give freely.” It’s also connected to charis, the word in Greek meaning “grace.” It's the same word Paul will use later in the letter when he encourages the congregation to “give freely” to a collection for the poor. To forgive is to give freely of oneself. Paul knows that forgiveness and reconciliation must be the next step. And to do so requires moving towards the person with whom reconciliation is sought. And to give freely of oneself. Because this is the way of Christ, the great Reconciler, who gives freely of himself for the whole world. And before whom we stand as people of God. Just as Paul writes in verse 10, when he says that he and the Corinthians stand together before the “face” of Christ. 

On Friday evening, I was privileged to be invited into a sacred space. A place that, honestly, few white people are allowed into - a conversation between black activists from here and Colorado. 

What I came away with from that conversation is how many of these young people have given up on the church. Mostly, because they don’t see the church as being out there, standing alongside them in their fight for justice and an end to the systemic racism that continues to challenge our society. Instead, they see the church as complacent. Comfortable. Unwilling to confront sin.

Now, you might claim that this has nothing to do with our text today from Paul’s letter, but I think it does. Because, what I think Paul is addressing here for the church in Corinth and for us, is the veracity of our witness. If we say, as a church, that racism and systemic racism is a sin, what are we doing to confront it? Do we choose not to say or do anything because it might upset our “peaceful” lives? Do we choose not to attempt to understand it and our complicity in it because it makes us uncomfortable? I wonder if this is the witness to the world that Paul, much less Jesus, would expect of us. 

I know that, for some of you at least, a few of my positions on different issues in our world make you uncomfortable. And you may disagree with me. Yet, if we can’t take on these hard conversations - if we can’t move into the difficult conversations here within our own community of faith - a community that has Christ at its center, then where can we have them? 

This is what Paul is doing and saying in our text. He could walk away and ignore what has happened. But it is out of love that he stays. And, instead of walking away, moves in closer. And challenges. And confronts. With the hope that the Corinth community will trust him. That they will find their way, address the issue, and then be reconciled with one another. And that, in doing this, will provide the most honest and truthful witness to the world of the power of Christ’s reconciling love for each and everyone one of us.  

So my prayer on this day is that we be honest in our conversations with one another. That we move towards each other in times of conflict. But, mostly, that we be true witnesses of the love and reconciliation of Jesus to the whole world. May God grant it. Amen.

Preached July 26, 2020, online at Grace & Glory Lutheran Church, Goshen, KY.

8th Sunday after Pentecost

Readings: 2 Corinthians 2:1-10; Matthew 18:21-22

Who We Are: Consolation

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

We have returned to Corinth, where we were in the spring, as we worked through portions of Acts and 1st Corinthians. Today, in the first of five weeks, we move to Paul’s second letter to the Corinthians. But, before we begin, let’s check in about what we remember about Corinth and, particularly, about the church that Paul planted in Corinth. 

We know that Paul first arrived there in about the Year 51. Paul was there for about a year-and-a-half, working in both as an apostle and as a tentmaker, which was his trade. After this time, he then moved onto plant a church in Ephesus. 

Corinth was an important cosmopolitan city, located on an important isthmus. It was a strategic political and military location for the Romans, including being the governor’s seat for the entire region of Achaia. 

We know that the church in Corinth was beset with division. There were many, many issues. Most of them, if you recall, revolved around status. Some of the conflict was between believers who had been converted by different apostles and claimed superiority over others. There was also an issue around economic status - those who were wealthy refused to eat with those who were poor, including for the weekly agape meal. 

The divisions resulted in frayed and shattered relationships within the Corinthian church. So bad, in fact, that Paul made a trip back to Corinth from Ephesus, where he had been moved. And, apparently, based on evidence we find in 2nd Corinthians, during that visit harsh words had been exchanged. 

Even after that visit, things were not resolved. So, Paul sent Titus back to Corinth with a letter - one that we don’t have but that is referenced in Paul’s writing. This letter was a harsh and corrective communication from Paul. The result was that there was a deep sense of woundedness between Paul and many in the congregation. Much of this woundedness revolved, once again, around status. But, this time, it was about Paul’s own status as an apostle. His status and integrity had been challenged by other apostles arriving in Corinth from Jerusalem. Who these other apostles were, we don’t really know. However, by the time this fourth letter, which we know as 2nd Corinthians, is written, Paul is calling them “false apostles.” 

In writing his letter, Paul does not address it to these false apostles, but to the congregation at Corinth. Because it is with them that Paul seeks reconciliation - something that is important to him because he views them as co-workers - as partners - in this ministry of reconciliation, in Christ’s ministry of reconciliation.

It is here where we begin. Paul opens gently. We read from 2nd Corinthians, chapter 1.

Paul, an apostle of Christ Jesus by the will of God, and Timothy our brother,

To the church of God that is in Corinth, including all the saints throughout Achaia:

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

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and the God of all consolation, who consoles us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to console those who are in any affliction with the consolation with which we ourselves are consoled by God. For just as the sufferings of Christ are abundant for us, so also our consolation is abundant through Christ. If we are being afflicted, it is for your consolation and salvation; if we are being consoled, it is for your consolation, which you experience when you patiently endure the same sufferings that we are also suffering. Our hope for you is unshaken; for we know that as you share in our sufferings, so also you share in our consolation.

We do not want you to be unaware, brothers and sisters, of the affliction we experienced in Asia; for we were so utterly, unbearably crushed that we despaired of life itself. Indeed, we felt that we had received the sentence of death so that we would rely not on ourselves but on God who raises the dead. He who rescued us from so deadly a peril will continue to rescue us; on him we have set our hope that he will rescue us again, as you also join in helping us by your prayers, so that many will give thanks on our behalf for the blessing granted us through the prayers of many. --2 Cor. 1:1-11 (NRSV)

I want us to take a closer look at the central portion of today’s text - verses 3 through 7. In this section is something that Paul often does as he begins a letter. He starts with a prayer or a blessing where he lays out before God the main theme he wants to get across to his readers. This is what Paul is doing in these first verses of 2nd Corinthians.

Do you notice anything interesting about this paragraph? We’ve talked before about the importance of repetition. If we take a close look at these verses, we see that Paul uses the word, consolation, or some form of it, ten times in these five verses. What’s interesting is that Paul only uses this word 25 times throughout the entire letter. But here, in just five verses, he uses the word ten times. So, what’s up with this?

If we dig deeper into the Greek, the verb that is at the root of all of these words is the word parakaleo, which means to instill someone with courage or cheer. To comfort them. Or to encourage them. Particularly, it means to come near. 

Paul’s approach at reconciliation is not to insist that he is right. Or to command the Corinthians how they should act or respond. But, instead he addresses them using the word, consolation. His desire is to overcome the strain that has taken place. The way to do this is to come near and speak words that will change the mood or the situation. This will then give courage, or a new hope, or a new direction, or new insight into what the future may look like. In using this word, Paul is intentionally meeting the Corinthians where they are. Just as God meets us where we are.

Contemporary theologian Ben Witherington writes that Cicero once suggested that “‘the ability to placate or reconcile was a sign of greatness in human character.’ If this is so, then perhaps 2nd Corinthians, more than any of Paul’s other letters, reveals his largeness of soul.” These words of encouragement, of comfort, of cheering up, of coming near are Paul’s way of affirming the Gospel message of a God - of our God - who raises up the dead. Just as human conflict led to Jesus’ resurrection, God’s own message of resurrection is a refusal to let human conflict dictate the future. 

Paul believed that failure to achieve this reconciliation would endanger the very Christian identity of the Corinthian church, since Paul was Christ’s agent - Christ’s apostle - to this church. To be alienated from Paul was to be alienated from the One who sent him. So, it is not only the heart of Paul’s ministry that is at stake, in his mind, it the very heart of the Corinthians’ faith that is at stake.

But there are a few more repeated words in this passage that we must pay attention to. We might think that the same Greek word would be used for affliction and suffering, given their similarity in meaning. However, in this passage, this is not the case. In fact, there are three different Greek words that translate in English as either affliction or suffering. Let’s look at each one separately.

The first word is thlipsis. This word, like consolation, is mentioned more often by Paul than any other New Testament writer and more so in 2nd Corinthians. It can refer to either external suffering or internal suffering. Specifically, it refers to suffering that has been experienced.

The second word used for suffering or affliction is pathema. This word generally refers to the suffering that Jesus experienced. His tribulation here on earth.

The third, and final word, is pascho. Notice that this word is only used once. It’s a word that Paul uses rarely and in different ways. In 1st Corinthians he uses it to describe the general sense of suffering that any Christian might know. In Galatians he uses it to describe a general experience of suffering. In 1st Thessalonians it refers to persecution. But here, as in Romans and Philemon, pascho is used by Paul to refer to the suffering that we share with Christ. Yet, this is different from how the word is used in other parts of the New Testament, where it is never used to refer to the suffering of believers, but only of the suffering of Jesus himself.  So, what is Paul doing here?

In connecting his suffering with that of Christ, Paul is connecting the Corinthian church to that same suffering. He’s emphasizing to them that there is a partnership or koinonos in both the suffering and consolation that is experienced by members of the body of Christ. He is bound to the congregation just as he is bound to Christ. 

When Christ suffers, we, as the body of Christ, suffer. When one of us suffers, the whole body of Christ suffers. Through our baptisms into the body of Christ, we are all interconnected - brought together in our suffering and our consolation.

This is important to Paul, and to us, because what is not promised is immediate relief from our afflictions or our suffering. But what is promised is that they can be endured. Specifically, they can be endured when they are understood as the sufferings of Christ, and the same sufferings that the apostles have known. And through which the gospel has been proclaimed. These are the same sufferings shared by the whole body of Christ. As members of this body, the Corinthians - and we - are called to be conformed to Christ’s own life-giving death. And to live obediently in expectation of the final glory that is to come. 

Paul’s hope for the church in Corinth, as with us, is that we will be members of the body of Christ who live out that partnership. Who understand that in sharing in the suffering and consolation of Christ as with one another, we also share in the final glory of Christ.

What hope this gives us in this time in which we are living! Knowing that as we suffer, whether it is from division, or physical illness or disease, or anxiety, or whatever affliction we experience, we are not alone. But we are partners with Christ, claimed by him, and brought into community with one another. So that we might be comforted. And that, together, we might endure. And find hope in the overwhelming power of God to bring life out of death. 

Thanks be to God! Amen.

Preached July 19, 2020, online at Grace & Glory Lutheran Church, Goshen, KY.

7th Sunday after Pentecost

Readings: 2 Corinthians 1:1-11; John 14:25-27

Out of the Whirlwind: Finding Life

Last week, you heard Pastor Ron preach on the creation story of Job.  For four chapters, God responds to Job with this story of creation and the way in which God has ordered creation. Out of the whirlwind, God has finally responded to Job. Not with an answer to his question about why he is suffering. But about how God is a creator God. Who loves and nourishes creation each and every day. In the first part of our lesson today, God’s speech continues. 

Last week you were introduced to one particularly dangerous and wild creature. In this portion of today’s reading, you will meet a second. Leviathan - that huge sea-being created by God.

God speaks out of the whirlwind. 

“Can you pull in the sea beast, Leviathan, with a hook and tie his tongue with a rope? 

Can you put a cord through his nose or snap his jaw with an anchor? 

Will he beg you over and over for mercy, or flatter you with flowery speech? 

Will he make a pact with you to run errands and serve you the rest of your life? 

Will you play with him like a bird, or put a leash on him for your children? 

Will you display him in the marketplace so that shoppers can haggle over his price? 

Can you shoot him full of arrows or drive a fishing spear into his head? 

Should you lay your hand on him, you would never remember the battle - won’t live to tell the story. 

Any hope of controlling him would be delusional. 

The sight of him makes one stumble. 

If you can’t hold your own against this fierce creature, how can you stand before me? 

Who can confront me and get away with it? 

I am in charge of this - everything under heaven is mine. I run this universe!” --Job 41:1-8

If Job hasn’t been brought to his knees by the earlier part of God’s response, he can only fall to them now. “Who are you?” God asks him. “Who are you that you think you are in control of this world? The universe? The cosmos? Who are you?”

There is an ancient myth that this Leviathan represents chaos. Perhaps that’s an appropriate thought for the times we are in. But I wonder if, here, Leviathan isn’t better characterized by the Leviathan written about by Thomas Hobbes, the 17th century British philosopher. Hobbes challenges us to consider that the Leviathan - this great monster of chaos - is actually within us all. That when we begin to believe that we are in control of this universe, we have succumbed to it and to the chaos it brings with it. Perhaps, this is God’s purpose with these words. Not to condemn Job for his self-centeredness and his focus on his own suffering. Because isn’t that what suffering brings us to do - to curl in upon ourselves? To focus only on ourselves and our own pain? Perhaps God’s purpose with Job (and with us) is to break open his vision. To reframe his perspective. To say to him, “You think you know about the world and about my justice, but you don’t! You don’t!”

God is re-orienting Job to a new vision, a non-human centered vision of the world. Teaching him humility. To give him a new vision, a new perspective. To invite him to look around. To breathe. And to live.

How will Job respond? We hear his answer in chapter 42.

“I’m convinced. I know you can do anything; no plan of yours can be opposed successfully. You asked, “Who is this muddying the water, confusing the issue, second-guessing my purposes?’ I admit it. It was me. I have spoken about things I didn’t understand, wonders beyond my own comprehension. You said, ‘Listen and I will speak; Let me ask the questions and you give the answers.” I admit, my ears had heard about you, rumors of you. But now, my own eyes have seen you. Firsthand. Therefore, I relent. And find comfort on dust and ashes - in my own humanity.” --Job 42:1-6

At the beginning of the book of Job, Satan argued with God that God had created the world in such a way that the righteous were kept from all harm - that God had placed a fence around them to protect them. This was the same worldview that Job and his friends also held - that the world was ordered in such a way that the righteous are rewarded and the wicked are punished. It’s the picture we had of Job at the beginning - a “blameless and upright man who feared God and turned away from evil.” A man who made sacrifices for his children preemptively - just in case. His was a very ordered world, where one’s righteousness produced prosperity.

But that world was shattered and collapsed around him in ashes. And, eventually, Job reached a second and different conclusion about the order of the cosmos, accusing God of fencing him in. Of creating a protective hedge so tightly that it feels as though he is being suffocated. 

These two conclusions - these two worldviews - are spoken by Satan and Job in the earlier chapters of the book. But, when God speaks, beginning in chapter 38 and continuing to this morning, both perspectives are called into question. The created order is not what any of them thought or imagined. The world is not a perfectly safe place for humanity. But, it is an ordered place and it is a place of profound beauty and freedom. And, within it, there is a place for humanity. Not for dominion, but for humility and wonder. God invites Job into this world and into God’s vision, to see the world in a new way. To reorient himself. To understand that he is not the center of the cosmos. To see the world from God’s point of view and to understand in a new way his place in that world. 

Our reading continues in chapter 42.

After God had finished speaking to Job, he turned to Eliphaz the Temanite and said, “I’m angry at you and your two friends because you haven’t spoken about me correctly as did my servant Job. So now, take seven bulls and seven rams, go to my servant Job, and prepare an entirely burned offering for yourselves. Job my servant will pray for you, and I will act favorably by not making fools of you because you didn’t speak correctly, as did my servant Job.”

Eliphaz from Teman, Bildad from Shuah, and Zophar from naamah did what the Lord told them; and the Lord accepted Job’s prayer.

After Job had interceded for his friends, God restored his fortune. And then doubled it! All his brothers and sisters and friends came to him and ate food with him in his house. They comforted and consoled him for all the trouble God had brought him. Each one of gave him a qesitah and a gold ring. Then the Lord blessed Job’s latter days more than his former ones. He had fourteen thousand sheep, six thousand camels, one thousand yoke of oxen, and one thousand female donkeys. He also had seven sons and three daughters. He named one Jemimah (or Dove); a second, Keziah (or Cinnamon); and the third Keren-Happuch (or Darkeyes). No women in all the land were as beautiful as Job’s daughters; and their father gave an inheritance to them along with their brothers. After this, Job lived 140 years and saw four generations of his children. Then Job died, old and satisfied. --Job 42:7-17

Job gets it. And responds by praying for his friends. And by having more children, including three beautiful daughters to whom he gives names that reflect their beauty. And, then, in an act unheard of in ancient Israel, Job gives them an inheritance along with their brothers. We see a transformed Job. Transformed by his own suffering and led by God to open his eyes to the beauty and grace of the world around him. To have hope in it and in God’s ordering of it. To breathe. To live. And to give his children the same freedom that God gives all creation - freedom to be fully who they have been created to be. 

At the beginning of our lectionary year, I wondered if Job was right for us this summer. Who could have known then what we know now? We are witness to the truth that the world is not perfectly safe for humanity. 

Yet, we, like Job, are called to a new vision of our world. To open our eyes to the beauty and grace of the world that God has created. To view it and all that God has made from a place of humility and wonder. And to have hope in it and in God’s ordering of it. And, then, like Job to breathe. And to live into our humanity and the freedom given to us by God, won for us by Christ’s act on the cross. So that we might fully be the whole and gracious and loving people God has created us to be. And that we might live in a world that, even though sometimes doesn’t feel safe, trust that God orders it and is in control.

May this be our lesson and learning in this time from the book of Job. Amen.

Preached July 12, 2020, online at Grace & Glory Lutheran Church, Goshen, KY.

Pentecost 6

Readings: Psalm 150; Job 41:1-8; 42:1-17