Revelation of the Son of God: Master Fisherman

Once while Jesus was standing beside the lake of Gennesaret, and the crowd was pressing in on him to hear the word of God, he saw two boats there at the shore of the lake; the fishermen had gone out of them and were washing their nets. He got into one of the boats, the one belonging to Simon, and asked him to put out a little way from the shore. 

Then he sat down and taught the crowds from the boat. When he had finished speaking, he said to Simon, “Put out into the deep water and let down your nets for a catch.” Simon answered, “Master, we have worked all night long but have caught nothing. Yet if you say so, I will let down the nets.” When they had done this, they caught so many fish that their nets were beginning to break. So they signaled their partners in the other boat to come and help them. And they came and filled both boats, so that they began to sink. But when Simon Peter saw it, he fell down at Jesus’ knees, saying, “Go away from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man!” For he and all who were with him were amazed at the catch of fish that they had taken; and so also were James and John, sons of Zebedee, who were partners with Simon. Then Jesus said to Simon, “Do not be afraid; from now on you will be catching people.” When they had brought their boats to shore, they left everything and followed him. --Luke 5:1-11 (NRSV)

My dad was an avid fisherman. North of us, about 30 miles away, was the Grand River. It’s a muddy river. It’s a catfish river. That was one of his favorite places. And where he taught us to fish, beginning about the age of 7. For our birthday on that year, each of us would get our own fishing rod and reel - kid size. Then, he would take us fishing, along the banks of the Grand River. We’d stand there for hours. Casting and reeling in. Casting and reeling in. Casting and reeling in. My brother and sister loved it. I hated it. It was so boring.

Then, east of us, about 30 miles away, was the Missouri River. This part of the river was dammed up, so it was also known as the Oahe Reservoir. A huge lake that extended from Bismarck, North Dakota, to Fort Pierre, South Dakota. It was clear, beautiful water. Full of walleye and Northern pike. My dad knew all of the secret and best fishing parts of the reservoir. As we got older, my mom and dad restored an old, wooden cabin cruiser. A regular vacation for us was to pack the boat up with all of our camping and fishing supplies, then pilot it to a large sandbar in the center of the lake, unpack and camp for several days, fish, and eat a lot of fish - breakfast, lunch and dinner. My brother and sister loved it. I hated it. It was so boring. 

So, as you can tell, I don’t have a great love for fishing. Perhaps it’s because I don’t have a lot of patience, something that is definitely required to be a good fisher-person. As in our story today. Simon, who we will come to know as Peter, and James and John, partners in the fishing trade, have been out all night fishing. With no luck. No catch. They have returned to the shore near Capernaum, tired. As they are cleaning their nets, all of a sudden they hear Jesus call out. For Peter. Asking Simon to take him out a little bit from the shore so he can teach the large crowd of people who have begun to follow him. And who are pressing towards him, so much so that he is running out of room, and will soon be pushed into the Galilee or, as it’s called in our text, the Genessarat, Sea. 

This is not the first time Simon has met Jesus. In the verses preceding our text, Jesus has healed his mother-in-law. It’s not clear that Simon is present when this happens, but you can bet that he has heard about it. Jesus’ reputation has grown dramatically since leaving Nazareth. Unlike in the other synoptic gospels, where Jesus is portrayed as moving about quietly, engaged in his ministry, here, in Luke, there is a huge buzz. A report about him has reached every place in the Galilean region. 

So, when Simon hears Jesus ask him for this favor, tired and exhausted as he may be, he complies. You heard the rest of the story. How, after Jesus finishes teaching, he tells Simon to go back to the deep water and try again. Even in his exhaustion, Simon complies. Perhaps he wonders if something might happen. After all, this Jesus is a miracle-worker, right? Or perhaps it's because, in all his tiredness, his defenses are down. Perhaps he’s like I am when I’m tired and exhausted. Have no more energy. Those were always the times that, when my son was growing up, it was like he had a second sense. He knew that that was the time to ask for something. Something big.

Aren’t we all just a little like Simon right now? Exhausted? Beaten down? Sure, we had that little bit of light this week as we listened in amazement to the words of gifted young poet Amanda Gorman as she wove the history of our country and our present experience into a powerful poem, giving us just a little bit of hope that we as a nation might set aside our division and come together in unity as we have before. But, it wasn’t long after that the hum of hope once again became the propaganda of partisanship.

But it is in these moments. In these darkest of times. When it feels as though we will never move out of this morass. When our defenses are down. Where Jesus, miracle-worker, life-giver, master fisherman, enters in. Blowing away all of our cynicism and exhaustion and hopelessness with an abundance so great that we can do nothing other than what Simon, now Simon Peter, does. Fall on our knees, overwhelmed, in complete fear and awe, begging Jesus, “Go away from me for I am a sinful being.” Yet, Just as Jesus reaches out to him, Jesus reaches out to us. Telling us to not be afraid. To trust. And then calling us to follow. To let go. And to move into a new life of abundance and grace and hope. As fisher-people.

May we answer the call with our whole heart. Amen.

Preached Sunday, January 24, 2020, online with Grace & Glory, Goshen, and Third, Louisville.
3rd Sunday after Epiphany

Readings: Luke 5:1-11, Psalm 90:14-17

Revelation of the Son of God: Going Home

Then Jesus, filled with the power of the Spirit, returned to Galilee, and a report about him spread through all the surrounding country. He began to teach in their synagogues and was praised by everyone.

When he came to Nazareth, where he had been brought up, he went to the synagogue on the sabbath day, as was his custom. He stood up to read, and the scroll of the prophet Isaiah was given to him. He unrolled the scroll and found the place where it was written:

“The Spirit of the Lord is upon me,

    because he has anointed me

        to bring good news to the poor.

He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives

    and recovery of sight to the blind,

        to let the oppressed go free,

to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.”

And he rolled up the scroll, gave it back to the attendant, and sat down. The eyes of all in the synagogue were fixed on him. Then he began to say to them, “Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.” All spoke well of him and were amazed at the gracious words that came from his mouth. They said, “Is not this Joseph’s son?” He said to them, “Doubtless you will quote to me this proverb, ‘Doctor, cure yourself!’ And you will say, ‘Do here also in your hometown the things that we have heard you did at Capernaum.’” And he said, “Truly I tell you, no prophet is accepted in the prophet’s hometown. But the truth is, there were many widows in Israel in the time of Elijah, when the heaven was shut up three years and six months, and there was a severe famine over all the land; yet Elijah was sent to none of them except to a widow at Zarephath in Sidon. There were also many lepers in Israel in the time of the prophet Elisha, and none of them was cleansed except Naaman the Syrian.” When they heard this, all in the synagogue were filled with rage. They got up, drove him out of the town, and led him to the brow of the hill on which their town was built, so that they might hurl him off the cliff. But he passed through the midst of them and went on his way. --Luke 4:14-30 (NRSV)

It’s hard to go home, isn’t it? 

I had a great aunt named Delores. She was my Grandma Gertie’s sister. Gertrude, or Gertie as she was most often called, was my maternal grandmother. Both of them had grown up on a farm, not more than 30 miles away from where I grew up. When my grandmother, who was older, graduated from high school and married my grandfather, well, they began to farm not more than 10 miles away from where all of them had grown up.

But, my Aunt Delores - she was different. After high school, she married my uncle and they moved to California, settling in the Bay Area. She was the first in her generation to move away from home and from the small, insular community in which most of them remained.

I’ll never forget a trip my Aunt Delores made back to our hometown in South Dakota. I think I was about 10 or 11 at the time. She stayed at my grandma’s house. My mom and sister and I went for a visit - it wasn’t often that she returned home. Somehow the conversation during that visit turned to Native Americans. I’ve mentioned to you before, I think, that the area where we lived was in between two reservations - the Cheyenne southwest of us and the Sioux northeast of us. Living beside Native Americans was a normal thing for us in our small town. Not that we really knew any of them, but they were present.

So, as we sat in my grandma’s living room, the conversation changed to the topic of our Native American neighbors. It’s fair to say, I think, that moving away from home can give one a broader perspective. Certainly, my Aunt Delores believed she had such a perspective. She started to lecture my grandmother on how badly the Native Americans in our small town were treated. I could see my grandmother get more perturbed and angry. And, although it was not typical for her to hold anything back, that day she did. Soon she got up to go into the kitchen. I followed her in there. When we got there, she turned to me and said, “That Delores! Just because she lives in California she thinks she knows everything.” 

It’s hard to go home, isn’t it? 

It’s kind of what Jesus was experiencing in our story today. He’d been raised in Nazareth most of his 30 or so years. He’d been away a little bit, going to the Jordan to be baptized. Then, tempted in the wilderness. Even, as our story hints, doing a little ministry away from home. Healing people. 

But, as the story opens, Jesus is now back in Nazareth, his home town. And, as he’s done so many times before, he goes to the synagogue - this public place of scripture reading and discussion, open to everyone. Where children were taught, where the community gathered, where the administration of justice might even happen. 

Jesus was familiar with the synagogue, it’s practice, and the people gathered there. They were familiar with him. So, it wasn’t unusual or unexpected when, as the hometown son returning, he was given the scroll of Isaiah to read. As he took his time unrolling and rolling the scroll, looking for chapter 61 - the passage we read last month - the people waited in anticipation. Then, finding it, Jesus began to read.

I remember when we studied this same passage from Isaiah late last year. This passage that took us back to the Levitical command for a jubilee year - that 50th year when the land was to lie fallow and everyone was to experience release from bondage, whether from debt or landlessness or incarceration. A command that seemed, from our 21st century eyes, completely impractical and, perhaps, even ridiculous.

But it is this text in Isaiah that Jesus chooses to read in his first ministry appearance in Luke’s gospel. What is even more astonishing was what Jesus did when he finished. He rolled the scroll back up. Gave it to the attendant. Sat down, as was the custom in that time for preaching. And he began to speak. Not to explain the text. But to make a claim. A claim of good news: that, in their presence, in that moment, in that place, this scripture was being fulfilled. In him. 

Our text tells us that the people marveled. They were amazed. Perhaps, it was because they knew him as a child or teenager. Perhaps it was because they knew his father, Joseph. Or perhaps it was because they could sense it. That there, in their midst, was the long-promised One, the Anointed One. 

But, things quickly took a turn. Because, these hometown folk have expectations. They believe that because Jesus is one of them, they will be the first to experience and benefit from Jesus’ power. When he quickly dispels them of this notion. When he tells them that the good news of God’s freedom and release is not just for them, but for everyone. When Jesus explains to them the radical inclusiveness of God’s reign, they get angry. And mob-like. Because they are ready for deliverance, but they are not ready to share deliverance. Good news, huh? 

But, no one said that good news would be easy. Because the good news that Jesus preaches is about release from those things that bind us, like turning a blind eye to the mob led by white supremacists and Neo-Nazis and conspiracy theorists, many who exist in our own country under the banner of Christianity. Or, conversely, the hatred we feel for that mob, who, even though they should reckon with the consequences of their actions, are still human beings, created by God. In spite of hard hearts and violent mobs, Jesus still shows up with good news. Whether or not it is heard.

We are at a tipping point in our nation. A tipping point that it seems could easily swing in one direction or another. We are placed in the midst of this, just as the people of Nazareth were. In the midst of a decision. Where will you stand in the story? Will you celebrate the wideness of God’s mercy? Or will you trade God’s good news of release for a good news of your own design?

In Jesus, the scripture is fulfilled. And ready or not, come cliff or come cross, it will not be stopped. Jesus will lead us on a path that will take us, first, to the darkness of the tomb. And then, and only then, to the mountaintop of resurrection. Going home will never be the same. Amen.

Preached Sunday, January 17, 2020, at Grace & Glory Lutheran, Goshen, KY, and Third Lutheran, Louisville, KY.

Second Sunday after Epiphany

Readings: Luke 4:14-30, Psalm 146

 

Revelation of the Son of Man: Claimed as God's Beloved Son

In the fifteenth year of the reign of Emperor Tiberius, when Pontius Pilate was governor of Judea, and Herod was ruler of Galilee, and his brother Philip ruler of the region of Ituraea and Trachonitis, and Lysanias ruler of Abilene, during the high priesthood of Annas and Caiaphas, the word of God came to John son of Zechariah in the wilderness. He went into all the region around the Jordan, proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins, as it is written in the book of the words of the prophet Isaiah,

“The voice of one crying out in the wilderness:
‘Prepare the way of the Lord,
    make his paths straight.
Every valley shall be filled,
    and every mountain and hill shall be made low,
and the crooked shall be made straight,
    and the rough ways made smooth;
and all flesh shall see the salvation of God.’”

John said to the crowds that came out to be baptized by him, “You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the wrath to come? Bear fruits worthy of repentance. Do not begin to say to yourselves, ‘We have Abraham as our ancestor’; for I tell you, God is able from these stones to raise up children to Abraham. Even now the ax is lying at the root of the trees; every tree therefore that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire.”

And the crowds asked him, “What then should we do?” In reply he said to them, “Whoever has two coats must share with anyone who has none; and whoever has food must do likewise.” Even tax collectors came to be baptized, and they asked him, “Teacher, what should we do?” He said to them, “Collect no more than the amount prescribed for you.” Soldiers also asked him, “And we, what should we do?” He said to them, “Do not extort money from anyone by threats or false accusation, and be satisfied with your wages.”

As the people were filled with expectation, and all were questioning in their hearts concerning John, whether he might be the Messiah, John answered all of them by saying, “I baptize you with water; but one who is more powerful than I is coming; I am not worthy to untie the thong of his sandals. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire. His winnowing fork is in his hand, to clear his threshing floor and to gather the wheat into his granary; but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire.”

So, with many other exhortations, he proclaimed the good news to the people. But Herod the ruler, who had been rebuked by him because of Herodias, his brother’s wife, and because of all the evil things that Herod had done, added to them all by shutting up John in prison.

Now when all the people were baptized, and when Jesus also had been baptized and was praying, the heaven was opened, and the Holy Spirit descended upon him in bodily form like a dove. And a voice came from heaven, “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.” --Luke 3:1-22 (NRSV)

The third chapter of the gospel of Luke is a little weird. For a text assigned to this day celebrating the baptism of our Lord and which should be about Jesus’ baptism - well, most of it isn’t. As one theologian puts it, Jesus’ baptism comes at the very end, almost an afterthought.

It makes us wonder why. What is Luke doing here?

Just as at the beginning of the birth story of Jesus, it is clear that Luke intends to place this story in history. To show us that Jesus came in a specific period of time to a specific place. 

What we also note with this line up of leaders, is that it consists of both political and religious leaders. 

The Roman emperor believed himself to be the Son of God who was to bring Good News of peace to the earth. Yet the peace he brought was that of military conflict and oppression.

Pilate was placed as governor over Judea to keep the peace, because there was rebellion growing within the population. It was like a powder keg. Ready to explode. And eventually, Pilate would hand over an innocent man to die to keep the peace.

Then there were the high priests Annas and his son-in-law Caiaphas, who succeeded Annas. Both of them kept in power by the Romans.

We have this line up because it was under this political and religious leadership that the people of Israel were feeling oppressed. 

Enter John.

Do you notice in the story that the Word of God came to John and not to the high priests, the leaders of the temple and of religious life for the Jewish people? It’s a similar pattern that we saw in the Hebrew scriptures with the kings and the prophets. The power structures have been corrupted. God must move outside these structures to correct the path of the nation and of the people. 

So, the Word of God comes to John. Who preaches it in the wilderness. A baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins. It’s what Isaiah said in Isaiah 40. That the valleys will be filled, the mountains made low, the crooked straight, the rough ways made smooth...So that all people will see God’s salvation.

The people, who are feeling oppressed, are drawn into the wilderness to John. Why? Perhaps for the first time in a long time, they heard the truth. No lies. No conspiracy theories. No falsehoods told in order to hold onto power. 

No, perhaps, for the first time they found someone who spoke truth to them. A hard and powerful truth. That they had been on the wrong path. That they needed to repent. To turn back to God and to the ways of God. “You brood of vipers” John calls them. “You, who have been called to bear good fruit and who have, instead, been relying on the faith of your ancestors, of your family tree. Be warned that the ax is ready to cut down the tree that does not bear good fruit.”

This is John’s truth. God’s truth. A hard and powerful truth that cuts deep within the people. That cuts deep within us.

Immediately, the people respond. “What should we do?” We hear them ask this three times. “What should we do?” This truth of John and of God has cut them to their core. 

John gives very practical responses - how to live in our working world. The baptism of repentance they have received is not the end. It’s the beginning. "Share what you have with those who have nothing," he says to the newly-baptized. 

Then, John speaks directly to the members of the middle class - the tax collectors and the soldiers. Be honest - don’t cheat. If you are in a position of power, don’t use that power to extort others. Be content with what you have.

As one theologian puts it, John’s call to obedience is about more than individual purity. It is about justice. And the well-ordering of society. There is something deeply political in this message from John. And from the gospel writer.

Then, John concludes his sermon with an introduction. To One greater than he, who will baptize with the Holy Spirit and with fire - a refining fire. One who is coming to “thresh the world.” And, then, because “truth” is often not accepted in our world, John’s sermon ends with his imprisonment.

It is then that we meet this One. This Messiah. This Jesus. And, when we meet him, he is on his knees. Baptized as one of the people. Not apart from them but part of them. Part of us.  When we meet him it is after his baptism. Jesus is on his knees, praying. There is no fire burning up the chaff. Instead there is a dove. A sign of peace. The Holy Spirit descending. And a voice from heaven that claims him as God’s beloved Son.

Sisters and brothers, when you and I were claimed in our baptisms, we promised to renounce the spiritual powers of wickedness, the evil powers of this world, and all evil, injustice and oppression however it presents itself. In this unprecedented week, when we have seen the halls of our nation’s capital under siege, calls for our president to resign, and the seemingly uncontrollable spread of COVID, God calls us back. Back to these baptismal vows. To remember who we are and whose we are. To turn back to God, who is a God of justice and peace. Who is working in our own time - before our very eyes - to reframe and restructure our world, leveling the playing field so that all might receive God’s salvation. 

So, look up, beloved of God. Take your eyes off the ground, show your face. A new day is here. The light rises over you, shines brightly, move shadows, touches your face. Everything wrong side up is being upended. The table is extending, rounding out. You have a place at that table that is yours. And everyone at this table will have more than enough.

So, stand up, beloved of God. Open up. Take it all in and shine. 

Preached on January 10, 2021, at Grace & Glory, Goshen, and Third, Louisville.

Baptism of Our Lord

Readings: Luke 3:1-22, Psalm 51:6-17

Revelation of the Son of Man: Our Bright Center

In the time of King Herod, after Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea, wise men from the East came to Jerusalem, asking, “Where is the child who has been born king of the Jews? For we observed his star at its rising, and have come to pay him homage.” When King Herod heard this, he was frightened, and all Jerusalem with him; and calling together all the chief priests and scribes of the people, he inquired of them where the Messiah was to be born. They told him, “In Bethlehem of Judea; for so it has been written by the prophet:

‘And you, Bethlehem, in the land of Judah,
    are by no means least among the rulers of Judah;
for from you shall come a ruler
    who is to shepherd my people Israel.’”

Then Herod secretly called for the wise men and learned from them the exact time when the star had appeared. Then he sent them to Bethlehem, saying, “Go and search diligently for the child; and when you have found him, bring me word so that I may also go and pay him homage.” When they had heard the king, they set out; and there, ahead of them, went the star that they had seen at its rising, until it stopped over the place where the child was. When they saw that the star had stopped, they were overwhelmed with joy. On entering the house, they saw the child with Mary his mother; and they knelt down and paid him homage. Then, opening their treasure chests, they offered him gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh. And having been warned in a dream not to return to Herod, they left for their own country by another road. --Matthew 2:1-12 (NRSV)

What a day - as we watch our nation’s capital under assault! 

I’m struck by the similarity of our situation today and that of the time from our reading in Matthew. The magi have travelled from afar. Following a star. Not knowing where it will lead. But understanding its importance,that it is connected to the long-promised Messiah. This king who has been promised to the Jewish people for centuries.

They land in Jerusalem. The center of all Judean life. They seek help from political leaders, wondering if they might know where this child, now most likely near the age of 2 - where he might be located. The goal of these magi? To honor him with gifts. And to worship him.  

But Herod is threatened by this. Not them, but this child, this promised king. Because Herod has a different way of seeing the world: that it revolves around him. His power. His privilege. His city. He is willing to lie and kill to keep the world the way he wants it to be. And he consults religious authorities - not for guidance - but to support his view and his actions. Herod is all about himself. His power. And preserving it. 

We may often be like Herod, centered on ourselves. On the things we want. Or the things we think. Or the things we believe. Often, like Herod, using religion for our own purposes. And, as we watch tonight the events happening in our nation’s capital, I daresay that we are not alone in this. Because this is the human way. The way inherent in us since the very beginning.

But, if we will listen carefully, this story reconstructs our world. The magi, representing those many nations, do come. But the light they see leads them finally not to the city, but to a village; not to a palace, but to a house; not to a king, but to a child; and their gifts foretell this child’s death. The child, who will grow up to be our crucified and risen Lord Jesus, who is the very mystery of God revealed, draws us and all things into God. There is our center - Jesus Christ. Not Herod. Not our national leaders. But Jesus Christ, the very presence and glory of God come to us. That center that is present wherever this word is heard: in our church. In our own homes. Here in this online place. Where we gather, where scripture is read, where we pray for all the nations - not just our own. The center, which is present in the places of our neighbors in need, with whom Christ himself identifies. 
So, let the star of these texts lead you. They will show you a whole new way to see the world. One that is centered on God. And not on us. One that does not rely upon human power, but on God’s power. And one that, no matter what happens in our world, whether it be pandemic or coup or any other trouble, will never abandon or forsake us. But, instead will help us find a way through. 

Arise. Shine. For your light has come. 

Preached online on January 6, 2021, at Grace & Glory Lutheran, Goshen, and Third Lutheran, Louisville.

Epiphany

Readings: Isaiah 60:1-6, Matthew 2:1-12

The Hope of the Messiah: From Barren to Blessed

On this last Sunday of Advent, we move into the New Testament - the Gospel of Luke. Luke is of two books, Luke and Act, that are an attempt, as the gospel writer says at the very beginning, to set down an orderly account of the events for Theophilus, Translated “God-lover.” So that you may know the truth concerning the things that have been handed onto us by those who from the beginning were eyewitnesses and servants of the Word.

And so, today, God-lovers, we read from the holy gospel according to Luke.

In the sixth month the angel Gabriel was sent by God to a town in Galilee called Nazareth, to a virgin engaged to a man whose name was Joseph, of the house of David. The virgin’s name was Mary. And he came to her and said, “Greetings, favored one! The Lord is with you.” But she was much perplexed by his words and pondered what sort of greeting this might be. The angel said to her, “Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God. And now, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you will name him Jesus. He will be great, and will be called the Son of the Most High, and the Lord God will give to him the throne of his ancestor David. He will reign over the house of Jacob forever, and of his kingdom there will be no end.” Mary said to the angel, “How can this be, since I am a virgin?” The angel said to her, “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you; therefore the child to be born will be holy; he will be called Son of God. And now, your relative Elizabeth in her old age has also conceived a son; and this is the sixth month for her who was said to be barren. For nothing will be impossible with God.” Then Mary said, “Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word.” Then the angel departed from her.

In those days Mary set out and went with haste to a Judean town in the hill country, where she entered the house of Zechariah and greeted Elizabeth. When Elizabeth heard Mary’s greeting, the child leaped in her womb. And Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit and exclaimed with a loud cry, “Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb. And why has this happened to me, that the mother of my Lord comes to me? For as soon as I heard the sound of your greeting, the child in my womb leaped for joy. And blessed is she who believed that there would be a fulfillment of what was spoken to her by the Lord.”

And Mary said,
“My soul magnifies the Lord,
    and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior,
for he has looked with favor on the lowliness of his servant.
    Surely, from now on all generations will call me blessed;
for the Mighty One has done great things for me,
    and holy is his name.
His mercy is for those who fear him
    from generation to generation.
He has shown strength with his arm;
    he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts.
He has brought down the powerful from their thrones,
    and lifted up the lowly;
he has filled the hungry with good things,
    and sent the rich away empty.
He has helped his servant Israel,
    in remembrance of his mercy,
according to the promise he made to our ancestors,
    to Abraham and to his descendants forever.”

And Mary remained with her about three months and then returned to her home. 

--Luke 1:26-56 (NRSV)

"Barren. That’s what we both were, Mary and I. Barren. Mary, a teenager, having never known a man, a virgin, without child. Barren. And I, old. Having known a man, also without child. Barren. It is this that perhaps connected Mary and I most. Our barrenness. Our emptiness. Our disgrace - well, mostly my disgrace.

I had prayed for a child during all of my child-bearing years. Like Sarah. Like Rebecca. Like so many other women in our history, in the stories of our faith, who had prayed to God for a child as much as I prayed for a descendant for my husband, Zechariah, and I. We lived righteously before God. Followed and observed all of the Lord’s commandments and regulations. Yet, unlike Sarah and Rebecca, I remained barren. My disgrace before others.

Yet, Mary and I would not remain barren. It was nothing that we did - everything that happened was from the Lord, announced by the angel, Gabriel. God’s messenger who came, first, to my husband, and then to Mary. Announcing these miraculous births. My child, who would be another messenger of God. Of the long-promised Messiah.

But, Mary. The announcement she received was different. The angel called her “favored one.” Favored one? Mary? First named in the story without a name, but only that she was engaged to Joseph. This was the status of women in my time, connected only to the men in our lives. And only important based on our ability to bear children. Especially, to bear sons. Mary, favored? Perhaps it was this title that perplexed her. Made her wonder. Made her ask the question how she might become pregnant without having known a man. Not that she doubted the possibility. But, that she was simply curious how this was to happen. Do you notice she never asked for a sign? Unlike my husband. Unlike so many prophets called throughout the history of our people, Mary never asked for a sign. 

But, then, the angel Gabriel gave her a sign. Me. Pregnant in my old age. I was to be her sign that God would descend on her womb in the way God had descended upon the tabernacle at Sinai. And how God had descended upon my womb. Because nothing is impossible with God.

And so she came to visit me. In my sixth month, with my pregnancy showing. When I saw her I felt my unborn baby leap within me. The Holy Spirit moved me, a woman, to prophesy what had already been spoken to her. That she would be the God-bearer. The Theotokos. The one who would bear the Messiah, the fulfilment of God’s promise to King David. And to us, from across the ages. 

No longer barren, either of us. But now blessed. Mary, the Alpha, and I, the Omega. From young to old, beginning to end, both of us, blessed. Not simply vessels to bear children, but Spirit-filled, prophetic, profound people, created by God. Blessed by God. How profound this was in our time! How profound this is for your time!

How could Mary do anything other than sing? Like Hannah, like Miriam, like Deborah of old, how could Mary do anything other than sing of the freedom and liberation that God has done, is doing, and will continue to do in our world, through her son, Jesus? The Anointed One. Son of the Most High. Emmanuel - God with us. 

May you, like Mary and I, know and believe the truth concerning the things that have been handed onto you by us, who from the beginning were eyewitnesses and servants of the Word. May you, like Mary and I, know and believe that God comes to set us free, to liberate us and our world from all that holds us captive. And may you, like Mary and I, know and believe that, even in the midst of our deepest darkness, God is doing a new thing. For nothing will be impossible with God. Amen."

The Hope of the Messiah: Freedom and Justice

Each month, in our council meeting, we spend time at the beginning of the meeting to dwell in God’s Word. To be centered in it before conducting any business or addressing any of the practical aspects of the ministry of our churches.

Over these months, I have to say that I’ve grown more and more impressed with the way in which the leaders of our congregations are becoming theological thinkers. Noticing things in the texts. Wondering and asking questions. Drawing the connections to other aspects of God’s Word or to our own Lutheran theology.

Today, we’re going to spend some time digging into this text from Isaiah in a similar way. Asking questions. Noticing things in the text. And making connections to help deepen our understanding of God, of God’s ways, and, particularly, of Jesus. The Messiah.

We read today from Isaiah, chapter 61 in three parts. Here is the first, beginning in verse 1. 

The spirit of the Lord God is upon me,
    because the Lord has anointed me;
he has sent me to bring good news to the oppressed,
    to bind up the brokenhearted,
to proclaim liberty to the captives,
    and release to the prisoners;
to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor,
    and the day of vengeance of our God;
    to comfort all who mourn;
to provide for those who mourn in Zion—
    to give them a garland instead of ashes,
the oil of gladness instead of mourning,
    the mantle of praise instead of a faint spirit. --Isaiah 61:1-4 (NRSV)

One of the first things we do when we read scripture is to consider who is speaking and what is the situation.

This reading comes from what is often considered Third Isaiah. Isaiah is believed to have been written in three different historical time periods. First Isaiah is generally considered written in the pre-exile period of Israel. The 8th century BCE. It brings harsh words to the people of Judah and Jerusalem - words of warning - to those who have become estranged from Yahweh. The prophet desperately and urgently calls out for the world to listen. To see their hypocrisy. To turn back to God. To seek the well-being of all.

We know that this call failed. Jerusalem fell. The people were captured by the Babylonians and spread far and wide across the empire. Separated from their families, the temple, their homeland. It is in this post-exile period where Second Isaiah was likely written. To give people hope. To convince them of God’s activity to free them from captivity. The efforts of this second writer, considered by some to have been a woman because of its many feminine images of God, do not convince many. It is hard to have hope when everything seems lost.

Then we come to Third Isaiah (56-66), the source of our text today. Written 2-3 generations later, after the ancestors of Judah’s exiles have begun to return home. And have found that the reality doesn’t live up to what they had hoped for. The reading begins with a dramatic self-introduction. Who the speaker is, we’re not sure. But, his or her identity is as important as the role to be played. To inform the community how it will survive and thrive. Words of consolation and encouragement in this new time of trial. 

This prophet or prophets will not preach punishment, but salvation. Salvation that is from God. God, who brings good news to the oppressed, binds up the broken-hearted, proclaims liberty to the captives and release to the prisoners. 

Do you notice that these words of consolation begin with the body? That salvation begins with the body? With the freeing and the healing of the body? 

It’s also hard to miss the direct reference to the Year of the Lord’s favor - the year of Jubilee as outlined in Leviticus 25. That was to occur every 50th year. When those in debt would be forgiven of their debt. When those who had lost their ancestral land would be returned to it and to ownership of it. The Year of the Jubilee was to be a reboot year. A year of reset. When the unequal distribution of resources was to be reversed. The Year of the Lord’s favor was about economic justice. And the restoration of community. Because God’s salvation is not solely about the individual, but about freedom for everyone and the restoration of dignity and justice for the whole community. 

God’s way is the way of reversal that is particularly captured in the next part of our reading, continuing with verse 5.

Strangers shall stand and feed your flocks,

    foreigners shall till your land and dress your vines;

but you shall be called priests of the Lord,

    you shall be named ministers of our God;

you shall enjoy the wealth of the nations,

    and in their riches you shall glory.

Because their shame was double,

    and dishonor was proclaimed as their lot,

therefore they shall possess a double portion;

    everlasting joy shall be theirs. --Isaiah 61:5-7 (NRSV)

God’s intent to reverse injustice begins with the enslavers themselves, who will serve Judah. Who will aid Judah’s restoration. Who will help them resettle, rebuild, and restore their land. 

It is a reminder for us that those with privilege need to be the laborers mentioned here, working to bring about justice for those who have been exiled and oppressed. Not because justice is the people’s idea, but because justice is God’s idea. Which is clear in the third part of the passage today, which continues with verse 8.

For I the Lord love justice,

    I hate robbery and wrongdoing;

I will faithfully give them their recompense,

    and I will make an everlasting covenant with them.

Their descendants shall be known among the nations,

    and their offspring among the peoples;

all who see them shall acknowledge

    that they are a people whom the Lord has blessed. --Isaiah 61:8-9 (NRSV)

This is God talking now. God speaking to the divisions in the community. God, who will ensure the fairness of the economic system. Who will restore a people formerly exiled, but a people who will now be known. And who, when others look at them, will see God’s covenant of justice with them. God’s glory and our relationship to God are seen in economic systems that are whole and just. Where everyone may live as full members of the community instead of just the few.

For I the Lord love justice,

    I hate robbery and wrongdoing;

I will faithfully give them their recompense,

    and I will make an everlasting covenant with them.

Their descendants shall be known among the nations,

    and their offspring among the peoples;

all who see them shall acknowledge

    that they are a people whom the Lord has blessed. --Isaiah 61:8-9 (NRSV)

This is God talking now. God speaking to the divisions in the community. God, who will ensure the fairness of the economic system. Who will restore a people formerly exiled, but a people who will now be known. And who, when others look at them, will see God’s covenant of justice with them. 

Do you notice who is the one doing this? “I will give…” “I will make…” God will be the one working to ensure that economic systems are just. Where everyone may live as full members of the community, instead of just the few. We are invited to come alongside God and to work for these just systems. In which God’s glory and our covenantal relationship - a one-directional relationship - will be seen.

And, then, once again, the tone and speaker changes, beginning with verse 10.

I will greatly rejoice in the Lord,

    my whole being shall exult in my God;

for he has clothed me with the garments of salvation,

    he has covered me with the robe of righteousness,

as a bridegroom decks himself with a garland,

    and as a bride adorns herself with her jewels.

For as the earth brings forth its shoots,

    and as a garden causes what is sown in it to spring up,

so the Lord God will cause righteousness and praise

    to spring up before all the nations. --Isaiah 61:10-11 (NRSV)

The passage is not clear on the speaker’s identity. Perhaps it is the prophet who has been called to preach that God’s Word will be fulfilled. Perhaps it is Judah herself, moving from mourning to joy, assured that the promise of restoration will be fulfilled. That just as the earth is trustworthy in bringing forth her fruits or the garden springs up its produce, so too the faithful can trust the God who makes these promises: of a body freed, of a community restored, of a creation regenerated.

What if this is our Jubilee year? A reset year. A time when, even in the midst of the rubble of our world and the rubble of the lives of many, God calls us to trust in God’s promise. To bind up our grief and move us to something else. Restoring dignity and justice for everyone. Bringing economic wholeness to all people. 

In fact, these are the fundamentals that are claimed within the ministry of Jesus himself. Our Messiah, who we heard in our first reading today from Luke. Who walks into the synagogue. Takes the scroll. Reads these very same words from Isaiah. And then turns to the people, saying, “Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.” Jesus, the embodiment of God and of God’s promise. A promise of restoration. A promise of economic justice. A promise of freedom.

May we, in this time of Advent, recognize that we cannot be a follower of Jesus and avoid this understanding, this aspect of Jesus’ own ministry. May we recognize that our salvation is tied to the salvation of all people. And may God work in our hearts to accept God’s invitation to work for economic justice in our own world. In this time. In this place. 

Amen.

Preached December 13, 2020, online at Grace & Glory Lutheran Church, Goshen, KY.

Advent 3

Readings: Isaiah 61:1-11; Luke 4:16-21

The Hope of the Messiah - Return, Rend, Restoration

Our text this morning comes from the prophet Joel. As you hear the reading, it may seem odd to hear these words during the Advent season. We more typically hear the first part of our reading on Ash Wednesday. And the second part on Pentecost Sunday. 

Our reading this morning is from Joel, chapter 2.

Yet even now, says the Lord,

    return to me with all your heart,

with fasting, with weeping, and with mourning;

    rend your hearts and not your clothing.

Return to the Lord, your God,

    for he is gracious and merciful,

slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love,

    and relents from punishing.

Then afterward

    I will pour out my spirit on all flesh;

your sons and your daughters shall prophesy,

    your old men shall dream dreams,

    and your young men shall see visions.

Even on the male and female slaves,

    in those days, I will pour out my spirit. --Joel 2:12-13, 28-29 (NRSV)

The first chapter of Joel, preceding today’s lesson, opens with a lament. It describes a country overrun by a horrible infestation of locusts. The swarm has completely devastated the countryside, leaving it in ruins. The situation is dire. Not only is there environmental calamity and devastation, but the people are experiencing famine and starvation. There is no food. Not even enough to offer a sacrifice to God. There is nothing with which to worship.

Then, in the second chapter, the prophet Joel switches the metaphor. To an invading army that in the same way as the locusts that preceded it. These images of invasion and destruction are a familiar story for the readers of Joel. The people of Israel have lived this story over and over again. It goes like this…

In Genesis, God promised Abraham and his descendants that they would inhabit this land called Canaan. Canaan is sandwiched between the vast Mediterranean Ocean to the west and the desolate desert to the East. After years of being enslaved by Egypt, God frees Israel and makes a covenant with them in Exodus. Here, God promises to be with them. And that they will become a holy nation. A royal priesthood.

God gives them instructions to build a tabernacle that will represent the Garden of Eden and God’s relationship with all humanity. King Solomon will eventually build a beautiful and magnificent temple to replace the Tabernacle and will establish it in the city of Jerusalem. This temple was to remind the people that the Spirit of God filled their covenant with God. That they planted like a vineyard so that the world could taste the love of God. Through them. 

This relationship with God was to be the source of the rivers of life for all nations, for all humanity.

Things went fairly well, at first. Under King David, the twelve tribes of Israel were united into one kingdom. But, then, King Solomon built the temple. And he did it by over-taxing the people and by using slave labor. The kingdom was torn apart. A civil war led to two separate nations: Israel in the north. And Judah in the south. 

Immediately, Israel repeated the story of the Golden Calf from Exodus and established two golden calves to replace the temple. Judah wasn’t much better. The majority of her kings led like tyrants: oppressing the people, driven by greed, gluttony, and violence. They brought the gods of Canaan into the very temple itself. 

Eventually a series of invading armies destroyed the nation. The people of Israel, in the north were completely destroyed by Assyria. The people of Judah, in the south, were carried into captivity by the Babylonians. Solomon’s beautiful temple lay in ruins.  The people lived in exile - torn apart from their land, their communities, from the temple - the center of their worship, and from everything they knew. 

Yes, the readers of Joel knew the story of the invading locusts all too well.

Things were bad. Devastated. Left in ruin. The people far away. And yet...

...even now…Even in the midst of all of the betrayal and corruption, God stands ready to receive them. Return to me with all your heart, God says through the prophet. Return to me with fasting, with weeping, with mourning. Rend your heart and not your clothing.

You see, the traditional symbol of mourning in Israel and even today was to tear one’s robe open or to rip one’s clothing. Like wearing black to a funeral or having ashes smeared on our foreheads on Ash Wednesday. These outward symbols are good. But, they can become meaningless acts. What matters most to God is not the outward ritual - the ways or the places in which we worship. What matters most to God is our hearts. What God desires is hearts that are rendered. That are broken wide open in all honesty. In all of our anguish and grief. Hearts torn open, revealing the pain, the sorrow, the regret, the shame that each one of us carries deep inside. To rend our hearts is to break them wide open and pour everything out to God. 

To God. Who is gracious. Merciful. Slow to anger. Abounding in steadfast love. A god who relents from punishing. A God who is good. Who desires to be the center for us. To be the source of our well-being, our shalom.

This verse in Joel is a quote from Exodus 34. It’s one of the most repeated verses in the Bible. It’s the way in the Exodus story that God describes God’s very self to the people who have just betrayed the covenant at Sinai. God is not some cruel tyrant who wants oppressed servants to obey his every whim. God is a loving parent - father and mother - who longs to be in relationship with God’s children. Who longs to see God’s children thrive in God’s beautiful garden, created just for them.

When we allow our hearts to be opened by the Spirit and allow ourselves to be turned back to the grace, mercy, and loyal, never-ending love of God, our hearts, broken and hurt as they may be, connect with God’s heart. And, then, the love begins to flow...

...the Spirit of the LORD flows freely through our lives. Flowing through everybody, not just the elite or the chosen. But, through all flesh. Anyone who’s heart resonates with the heart of God - the heart of love - can flow in the spirit of God.

The readers of Joel longed for the day when the Messiah would come to restore the kingdom of God on earth as it is in heaven. We, on this side of the Advent, know that this Messiah is Jesus. This is what Peter proclaimed in Acts 2. That Jesus was God in the flesh. That Jesus was the picture of what it looks like when humanity fully resonates with the heart of God. 

Jesus. Who spoke truth to power. Who called out corruption and the abuse of the weak. Who touched the poor, the sick, the exiled. And who reconciled all things with his own self-sacrifice and forgiveness. Who inaugurated God’s kingdom here on earth. Who promises restoration that begins with the rebuilding of the natural world, which is where the story of creation first began - restoration and re-creation. 

And then the outpouring of the spirit and the embracing of all nations. All humanity. Living in abundance and well-being, with silos full of grain and no worries for anyone about where their next meal will come from. This was what the people of Joel’s day dreamed of. This is the unfolding vision in which we live, in this post-Advent world even in the midst of what may seem to be the darkness of the present time. So, come, people of God. Turn back to God. Here. In this place. In this time. Break open your whole heart. Pour out all the anguish, all of the sorrow, all of the confusion, all of the anger that has characterized our world and our lives in this time. Your lament is welcome before God, who is waiting there for you with a promise of new things and new possibilities. That there will be a future. And a future future. And, when you do, know that the Spirit will not be withheld from your broken heart. She will bind up your wounds, replace your doom with visions of what can be, and help us hear each other into being and into continuing to do the work of God in building up the kingdom of God here on earth. This is God’s promise in Joel. A promise for you and me. A promise for everyone. Amen.

Preached online Sunday, December 6, 2020 with Grace & Glory/Third Lutheran churches.

Advent 2

Readings: Joel 2:12-13, 28-29; Luke 11:13