First Sunday of Christmas

They weren’t young anymore, Simeon and Anna. Simeon was ready to die and Anna was both old and a widow. But there they were – in the temple – at the end of the birth story recorded in the Gospel of Luke. Actually, Anna and Simeon join a rather surprising group of people from the first two chapters of Luke – the first to witness the birth of Jesus. There’s silent Zechariah and barren Elizabeth, Mary and Joseph, shepherds from the fields, and now, Simeon and Anna. They are the aged, the widowed, the barren, the marginalized. It’s an inclusive bunch – in gender, social standing, and religious observance. And, most surprising of all, it’s a newborn baby who overwhelms them with joy – bringing the hope of God’s salvation. Think about those shepherds. I’d be pretty scared – following an angel’s command to go meet the “Saviour, Christ the Lord.” But, a baby – meeting a baby wouldn’t be so scary. Now, Mary and Joseph bring their newborn to the temple. No doubt, they thought the shepherds’ visit in Bethlehem was surprising. Meeting Simeon and Anna will cause even greater wonderment. For, these aged truth-tellers will boldly announce that through this child, God’s salvation is being made known to all people.

In Luke, those who receive the good news of Jesus – and those who proclaim it - are a beautifully varied bunch. And so are we. It’s hard to imagine the vast mix of people who are listening to this sermon today. We are 145 different congregations in the Minneapolis Area Synod, worshiping in 8 different languages. Though not all congregations will use this service – and I’m pretty sure that not every congregational member will tune in – our worship community will be diverse in age, class, gender, race, sexual orientation, talents, passions, faith, doubt, hope and despair. And, that is why the Christmas message is so unbelievably powerful. The gospel comes to all people; God’s salvation is for all. Most of us are worshiping today from our living rooms – watching the service on a screen. Sadly, most of us worshipped from home on Christmas Eve. No tree-lit sanctuary, no room filled to the brim with people holding candles and singing silent night. And yet, the first announcement of Jesus’ birth wasn’t made in the temple – not in a sanctuary of any kind. It was proclaimed in the fields where shepherds – likely from the bottom rung of the social ladder – were the first to hear the good news. What is more, in the words of Craig Satterlee, the shepherds were not just outsiders. He writes: Spend enough time in the field, shunned by decent and religious folk, disappointed by God, or overwhelmed by grief, and we stop caring that we are outsiders.

We give up trying to get inside religion, or even give up on God, and just get on with life. But God does not give up on us. God sends angels to people who have given up on God. 2020 may have felt like a year in the wilderness – so many unknowns, so much waiting, cut off from physical touch. Only you know how this has affected your faith. But know this, you are not alone if it has. And, more importantly, know this as well: Even if you have given up on God, God has not given up on you. The power of Christmas is the inbreaking of God’s Grace into every corner of this world. Whether we are strong or weak, recognized or forgotten, fervent in faith or spiritually starving, God brings good news to us right there where we are. But there’s more. The Christmas story is also filled with the most unlikely prophets and witnesses – called and empowered by God’s Spirit: outcast shepherds talking about all they’d heard and seen, an unmarried young woman singing a Magnificat of good news to the poor and hungry, blessing for the sorrowful and lowly. So, today, as you sit in your home, know this: God can meet you there with good news. And God can use you as a witness to God’s love. Already in the first two chapters of the gospel, Luke makes it very clear that God’s Spirit empowers witnesses from among the poor, the young, the old, the powerless.

And this will become even clearer in Luke’s second volume – the Acts of the Apostles – where the Spirit is poured out on all flesh – the young who see visions and the old who dream dreams. “If the spirit of God continues to work in every time, and if the spirit’s chosen instrument is the human body, then witnesses and prophets are among us here, right now.” (Luke Timothy Johnson) And don’t be surprised if that witness is you. Yes you, sitting on your couch in your pajamas, not quite sure if your faith is a glowing candle or a dimly burning wick. It’s the Spirit that calls and empowers. And, though the pandemic greatly limits the movement of our human bodies – “don’t go there; don’t touch that’ – we can still use our hands to write a letter to a lonely friend, use our voice to call our legislator appealing for unemployment benefits; we can use our fingers to scroll through the ELCA website and contribute to the hunger appeal, or show our beautiful faces on a congregational zoom call - for Bible study or that committee working on racial justice. God can use us – each of us – as God’s hands in the world. In addition to 2020 being the year of the pandemic, it also marked the 50th anniversary of our church’s decision to ordain of women. My first call – 38 years ago – was to Zion Lutheran in Iowa City. Back then, the Iowa Bishop gathered all the state’s female pastors together once a year for support and encouragement. The first years we all could’ve fit in a phone booth.

Though small, it was an amazing gathering– April Larson who went on to become the first female bishop; Connie Kleingartner, who became one of the first female seminary professors. I especially remember one conversation we shared during a retreat. One of the more soft-spoken women finally said, “I just look forward to the day when the church doesn’t see me as a problem. I am a gift to the church.” Those early days, we were often seen as problems – problems for bishops who couldn’t help us find calls; problems because we didn’t always fit the mold of what pastoral authority had always looked like. “I am a gift,” my colleague said. “A gift to the church.” You are a gift, dear friends in Christ. Out of love, God brings to you good news of great joy in Jesus. And, with Simeon and Anna, with shepherds and a young mother called Mary, God sends your forth in love by the power of the Holy Spirit. Oh, I wish I had a crystal ball and could tell you what the year ahead will bring; I wish I could predict when there will be vaccines for everyone; I wish I could tell you when herd immunity will make it ok for your grandkids spend the night; ok to open your restaurant or small business, ok for you gather with your high school friends at a coffee shop; ok to hug all your siblings in Christ at worship. We will continue in the wilderness of uncertainty for a while. And, you may be tempted to give up. But, God doesn’t give up on you. God is here with us – to bring good news again and again and again. And, God is here with us – anointing us with Spirit’s power that we might – again and again – share God’s love with others. Amen.

Tonight We Sing: Glory to God!

Merry Christmas!

I know for some people, Christmas doesn’t seem very “merry” this year. But even if it doesn’t feel “merry,” it’s still Christmas. Christ has come.

We heard the prophecy from Isaiah and we heard the angel proclaim to the shepherds and to us: “Do not be afraid; for see--I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people: to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord.”

This is Good News. And it was such good news that the angels in heaven could not contain themselves. Their song rang out: “Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace among those whom he favors!"  

It was an ordinary night in a world that was not at peace. The territory was occupied. There were many challenges in the world.  And yet, the angels brought a message of hope, peace and joy for all people.

The angels didn’t show up at the palace. They had no sanctuary in which to sit. Instead… they came to the fields to the shepherds who were ordinary people doing low wage jobs with bad hours and low pay. It was to these simple folks -- not the first ones on anyone’s guest list-- to whom the angels sang. And after the shepherds received the news, they left their sheep behind and went to see the baby, the Christ child.. and when they left – what did they do? They glorified and praised God, lifting their voices with joyful shouts and songs.

You know this story. It is the same story that we hear every Christmas Eve. And yet each year, we are invited to hear it anew. You, like the shepherds are invited to the manger, to see the Christ child. For Jesus Christ, the Messiah, the Lord, came not only for shepherds on the hillside of Bethlehem, but came for all people - including you and me.

The challenges of the world were not solved that night. Caesar still ruled the land. People were still hurting then and the world is still hurting now. But… on that night, Christ came into our world to save us and to redeem us. Jesus came as savior, messiah and as Emmanuel – God with us.  And God is not done. 

Despite knowing this, it is easy to get distracted by the world around us. Some years it is the Christmas glitter, parties and activities… but not this year. This year the challenges of the virus and the limitations it brings – and the division in our country -- threaten to overshadow our joy.

It turns out that there was also plenty of division and distraction at the time of Jesus’ birth. But despite all of the challenges then and now, the angels proclaim: “Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace among those whom he favors!"  And who would it be that God favors? Well… since the angel proclaimed that Jesus was the savior for all people, that means that the one whom God favors would be you… and your neighbor…including the lonely, the poor, the unemployed, the migrant, the refugee, those who sleep on hillsides and those who sleep under bridges and all those who call Jesus Lord.  Christ has come for one and for all. This is good news.  

And that is why, tonight, we sing. We sing – sometimes with tears in our eyes, remembering the ones who are ill and those who have been lost to us this year and in prior years… those grandparents, mothers, fathers, cousins, sisters, brothers, and children too. We remember each one of them who have been beloved to us. Yet even when our hearts are broken, still we sing.

We sing because we have faith to believe, to carry on, to endure – and yes, even dare to dream. Just as slaves once sang Gospel songs of freedom that proclaimed a future of promise even in the midst of slavery, so we sing the story of Jesus birth, proclaiming the glory of God that has come into a world that is still hurting and in need of healing. 

We sing the angel’s song and the message of hope and joy because we know that the story is not over. God is still at work in our world.  And we, people of God, are called to proclaim in word and in song the message of God’s incredible gift – the gift of Jesus, our savior and Lord. We are called to sing hope and healing into a hurting world. We are called to sing of joy and peace to a world that lives in fear and conflict. We are called to sing and to shout and to proclaim that Jesus Christ is our savior and Lord and is Emmanuel, God with us.  The world needs to hear this message.  

In the Charlie Brown Christmas program, Charlie Brown seeks to find the meaning of Christmas. He doesn’t find it in the glittery metal Christmas trees or in trying – unsuccessfully -- to direct a Christmas play or even in decorating his little tree. If you remember the story, his Christmas tree collapses with a single bulb.  Feeling like a loser, he finally asks: Does anyone know what Christmas really means?

Linus does.   He reminds Charlie Brown – and us – that the real Christmas story is the one that we just read, the story of Jesus’ birth. And, as Charlie Brown’s friends start to help decorate his little tree – giving it a little love and support – so we too are called to help our neighbor by sharing both acts of kindness and the message of the Good News of Jesus’ birth.

Brothers and sisters, friends in Christ, tonight, this holy night of Christmas Eve, I invite you… no I challenge you…to join me in singing the angel’s song and proclaiming God’s good news of Jesus’ birth. Be safe – of course – but then…let us sing – or shout –  glory and praise to God.  Sing out loud and strong. Don’t worry about whether you sing off key. Sing with hope and with gusto.  For we were made for such a time as this. As God’s children, we are called to proclaim the Good News to people who are weary, to friends who are anxious and afraid, to those who need to hear the message that God – Emmanuel -- is with us still and will never leave us. So, sing out the Good news. For tonight… dear friends… we are celebrating Jesus’ birth. Sing it loud, sing it strong: Sing Glory to Jesus, the New born king. Amen.

We Can Do Hard Things

If I were to write a letter to God this morning, it might go something like this. Dear God, due to the pandemic, I’m pretty sure I understand the meaning of Advent this year…much better than I used to. So now that I have this waiting, watching, and wondering thing down, when can things go back to normal? Let me know as soon as possible, okay?

It would be great to know what lies on the other side of pandemic and exactly when it will end, but that is not how waiting in God’s time works, is it?

That’s why, today, when we think we cannot possibly wait any longer, we need to hear the story about how God comes to find Mary. It’s a story about how God knows Mary – through, and through and through – and chooses her to be the mother of Jesus. We are reminded that no matter who we are and where we are and yes, even in the midst of a pandemic, God comes to find you and me too – seeking us, choosing us, inviting us to say “yes” to new life.    

You see, unlike so many other important figures in the Bible, Mary is introduced in our text today with little fanfare. She has no grand lineage of ancestors to lay before us. She was simply a young girl, a teenager betrothed to a carpenter, living in a rural village called Nazareth. To the world at that time, you might say that she was ‘a nobody’…a nobody living in an unimportant place. And yet the Spirit of God, in the form of an angel, comes to find her, for God has great news. She is favored and will conceive in her womb and bear a holy child, the Son of God.  

Just imagine, for a moment, Mary’s utter surprise – a surprise that quickly turns into distress and agitation. Mary is emotional, and we can surely understand why she cries out, “How can this be?” “How can this be?” Have you ever thought you might be hearing from God, or feel nudged by the Spirit in a certain way, only to wake up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat saying “No, not me!” This message could not be for me! You might say, “I’m not worthy of doing this; I’m not capable of doing this; I’m too broken to do this; It’s simply not possible.”

But God knows your heart and sees things in you that the world may not see, just like God knows Mary’s heart, through and through and through. God sees Mary’s inner feminine strength, abundant faith, and the beautiful song she has on her lips about the coming of God’s kingdom. God knows that Mary can do really hard things to bear love into the world. So can you. And so can I.   

It’s funny how I see Mary with new eyes now that I am a mother. Growing up at St. Jude of the Lake Catholic Church in Mahtomedi, I always noticed the statue of Mary on the left side of our sanctuary, and she reminded me that women were important in Jesus’ life and important to God. Pictured in traditional blue and white, she looked elegant, gentle, and meek, and yet I have to admit that what I see in Mary now is her inner strength and her grit -- not a “model female” per se, but a model “disciple of Christ”.[1]

See in opening herself up for this blessing, for this love, for the coming of Christ, Mary would have to do really hard things. I’m astounded by her courage, to say “here am I, let it be with me” with no roadmap, no real answers, no detailed plans on what exactly was to come.

She would face stigma as an unwed pregnant mother, and risk losing Joseph all together. The child that she would so lovingly nurture in her womb would be despised and tortured by the world, so much so that she would have to witness her own son’s death on the cross. The prophet Simeon would warn her that as the mother of Jesus, a sword would pierce her soul. (Luke 2: 34-35). Indeed, it did. But, as Jesus himself would say about Mary, “my mother [is one] who [hears] the word of God and [does] it” (Luke 8:21).

In preparing for this sermon, I found myself thinking about what the hearing and doing of discipleship looks like, in real life. I happened upon a picture of a stained-glass window that I had taken on my trip to Israel almost two years ago, at the Church of the Annunciation. This is the church in Nazareth that, according to Catholic tradition, sits on top of the house where Mary lived and where the angel Gabriel appeared to her.

On the stained-glass window, the Angel leans towards Mary, lovingly, knowingly, with two outstretched arms. What is interesting to me is that Mary leans into the Angel too, her right hand cupped behind her ear, as if she is trying to listen closely to what the Angel is saying. But Mary’s left hand gives her emotions away. See, it is pressed down on her heart. She is overwhelmed with both the radiance of the blessing bestowed upon her and also aware that saying yes to God will come with great risk.

And so it is for us when we answer a call from God. A mix of radiance, of blessing, but also uncertainty and fear.

I invite you, this last week in Advent, to make room for Mary’s story and to pause think about your own stories, those the times in your life when you have heard God calling your name and leading you to new life. How did you recognize God’s call? How difficult was it at the time to say yes? What unexpected blessings met you? What hardships did you face along the way? How did your faith help you to find the strength to do hard things?   

This week, we wait for the miracle of Christmas, and yet we know that this Christmas won’t look familiar to any of us.

So may we, ordinary people though we may be, know that we are loved by God through and through and through, and that we too have been chosen. And when the Spirit comes to find us, as she has and as she will, may we lean in and listen closely. For hear this good news: the love of Christ has come into the world, is coming into the world, and waits to be born again and again through you and me.

Being at the precipice of this kind of love made flesh is both wondrous and frightening at times. But like Mary, we can do hard things for love. For nothing will be impossible with God. (Luke 1:37)

Let it be with you and me. Amen.

[1] Theologian Beverly Roberts Gaventa discusses the difference between seeing Mary as ‘a model female’ and seeing Mary as ‘a model disciple’ in her book Mary: Glimpses of the Mother of Jesus (Fortress, 1999), pp. 49-78.

God Is Like

A Sunday school teacher once asked a little child, “What are you drawing?” The answer came quickly, “God.”

“But, the teacher said, “no one knows what God looks like.”

“Well”… replied the child, “They will when I’m done!”

What do you think that God looks like? What image or images come to mind? In these past weeks, I’ve been exploring Biblical images for God including: Christ as King and as the neighbor in need, God as a potter, and the Lord as our shepherd. But these are just a few of the images for God in the Bible.

In today’s scripture from Isaiah, God is described as one who “has clothed me with garments of salvation and arrayed me in a robe of his righteousness.”  What does a garment of salvation and a robe of righteousness look like? I don’t know. But then Isaiah describes a scene we do know and invites us to imagine God as one who clothes us with our very best, adorning us like a bride and bridegroom dressing for their wedding. Like the best man checking the tie of the groom and the bridesmaids helping the bride with her dress - God wants to make us our very best.

The clothing image continues in the New Testament. Paul declares that in baptism we have been “clothed with Christ” Galatians 3:27and Romans 13:14 In her book, Wearing God, Lauren Winner takes a closer look at what that could mean, to be clothed in Christ.  She imagines wearing God not only as a jewel or as a jacket -  something that is external or that simply accessorizes and enhances her appearance but also as long underwear hugging close against your skin.  She wonders, what does it mean to wear Christ so close that we can feel God pressing in on us?  She also reflects on what how we act, depending upon what we wear. She says, “I feel different when I am wearing different clothes. I act different. I let my Talbots suits and my vintage shirts remake me in their image. I want to let Jesus do the same.” 1

Lauren Winner’s reflections made me wonder: how do we “wear Christ” and let Jesus remake us in his image?

Sometimes being clothed with Christ - wearing Christ -- can be uncomfortable and even exhausting.  It was for a night nurse. Every night she puts on Christ when she puts on her PPE. This was the job that she had trained to do, and yet she told her pastor that her work on the covid19 floor was like ‘walking into fire every single night.’  

For example, the other night “she had a 33 year old in her care.  Suddenly he spiked a fever of 104. Alone in the room with him, she immediately began to pack him in ice to bring his fever down.  Only there was not that much ice in the room so she called out for more and while she waited, she started soaking paper towels in water and using those instead.

She shouted to him as she worked, “All you have to do is keep breathing! I’ll do the rest!”

He kept breathing – even though it hurt – and the fever came down. When she ended her shift, he had made it through the night. But she was exhausted – still. She and her colleagues had been doing this day after day, night after night. On top of the hard work, she suffered the emotional burden of feeling like the ‘only one’ present to encourage, to hold, to pray. 2

Except of course, she’s not alone. She put on Christ with her PPE – and so brought Christ – and the rest of us – as Christ’s body -- with her.  And while it’s true that the infectious nature of the coronavirus prevents us – and even more importantly the friends and family of this young man and the pastor of this nurse from being able to be physically present to get more ice or to hold his hand, it doesn’t keep out Christ.

Nor does it keep them or any of us, as Christ’s body, from praying.  Our heartfelt prayers go out not only for him and people like him – whose job is to keep breathing… but also for her and nurses and medical personnel like her who can easily get overwhelmed, exhausted and discouraged and feel as if they are walking into fire every night and that they are alone and responsible for doing “all the rest.”

In the light of this challenge, praying from a distance doesn’t always feel like enough. But, as the body of Christ, our heart-felt prayers mean and do more than we can imagine.  For as we put on Christ, and become the body of Christ, and we pray for her – and all those like her – we ask and we trust that Christ will not only be there but will also be the one that does “all the rest.”

In Jesus’ first sermon, he reads our Isaiah scripture and in addition to proclaiming Good News to the oppressed and freedom for captives, he proclaims that he came “to bind up the brokenhearted.” And he does.

This is another image of who God is – the one who binds up the broken hearted. That includes this overwhelmed nurse and the young man and his family and friends and all those whose hearts are breaking because of the challenges and the consequential limitations we face because of this virus. 

And, dear friends, it includes you and me too. When your heart is breaking, God’s word for you is to “just keep breathing and let God do the rest.”  For Christ has come to bind up the broken-hearted and to proclaim Good News to all who feel oppressed and freedom for all who feel captive. 

Christ has come as a healer binding up our wounds, as one who frees us and as one who proclaims Good News.  God comes in unexpected ways, dressing us with righteousness and who even clothes us with Christ. These are just a few of the Biblical images for God. So..  what do you think God looks like? The teacher didn’t say what the child drew. But the Bible gives us lots of images of what God is like and of what God does for us to ponder and explore. No one image can contain God. But, hopefully by expanding the Biblical images that we explore, we can not only see God in new ways but also be encouraged and encourage others that God is still at work bringing us hope and joy in new and surprising ways. Thanks be to God!

Give to God the things that are God’s.

Give to God the things that are God’s. That part of Jesus’ answer has been running through my mind this past week. So…what exactly are we to give?  In the Old Testament, the standard answer was the tithe – 10 percent. But Jesus isn’t parsing out how much of your assets to give to Caesar and how much to give to God. Instead he says, “Give to the emperor what belongs to the emperor”. And then says: “give to God what belongs to God”.

So this is what I’ve been thinking about…because, doesn’t everything belong to God?  

Some people – like St. Francis – interpreted that quite literally. When his father heard Francis was going into the ministry, he was furious and confronted him in the town square.  He thought his son owed him something. After all, hadn’t he supplied him with beautiful rich clothing and money to spend? Francis agreed. All of his clothes and money did come from his father. So…right in the middle of the town square, he took off all his clothes and gave them and all the money that he had back to his father. Then, free of possessions and obligation to his earthly father, he proclaimed, “I belong to God, my Heavenly Father.”

It was certainly a dramatic way to proclaim his allegiance to God. But you don’t have to strip naked in the town square in order to proclaim: “I belong to God.”  For Jesus has claimed you at your baptism as a child of God; you belong. As Paul writes and we proclaim, “You belong to Christ and Christ belongs to God.”  You belong to God.

The question is: how you live into this gift of belonging? Or in the words of poet Mary Oliver, “Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?”  

God has entrusted the whole world to us.  And there are days – such as this past week when the trees were changing and the air was “just right” and the sun shone  - that I simply want to bask in the beauty of God’s creation. I rode my bike on paths strewn with leaves of red and gold and saw eagles soar and heard birds sing and gave thanks to God. The world was beautiful. On those days – days in which I shut off all news outlets and just focus on God’s creation – I praise God for God’s wonderful gift of creation. I can echo God’s assessment of creation: it is good.

But then I come home, and read the news and it is harder for me to rejoice when I hear and read about the nastiness and outright cruelty of the way people act and speak and treat one another. It’s easy to see the beauty of creation in the trees and the wild creatures and even in the neighborhood pets. If I’m honest, it’s harder to see each person as a part of God’s good creation. But…in the story of creation, God proclaims, “Let us make human beings in our own image.”  And God did, making humans, male and female, in God’s own likeness. And again, God says, “It is good.”

Each person is made in God’s image. And, God saw all that he had made, and it was very good.Gen 1:31 So then… when you look at another person… regardless of age, or the color of their skin, their sex or gender, their bank account, or the clothes they wear, the accent of their voice, or where they were born  – every human being… was made in the image of God.

Even if it’s Caesar. Caesar – the egotistical, power-hungry emperor who had the words “Son of God” imprinted by his face on the coin shown to Jesus. Using it felt idolatrous to faithful followers. But Caesar was feared – and ruthless when disobeyed. Yet, even Caesar was made in God’s image. And so are those people who drive me crazy. Created in God’s image… every one of them.

And so are you – and the people who drive you crazy. You and I – and all human beings -- are created in God’s image. So… before you send that tweet or share that incendiary facebook post – remember whose image you reflect. Speak the truth – but do so in love.

For not only are you created in God’s image, but you are claimed by Christ, in your baptism, as a child of God. You are fed and nourished by God’s word.  You belong to God. And, so do I – and all of our creative and expressive talents and skills. Remember - everything belongs to God.

Since I know in my head that everything belongs to God why do I want to hold on so tightly to “my” money, “my” work, “my” power, “my” stuff?  Why do I – maybe you too? – want so much to be in control?

I wonder if, as Americans, we are so focused on the importance of freedom, of independence, and the myth of making our own way, that we forget, as Christians… that Jesus taught us that power is made perfect in weakness and that love conquers everything.

Friends in Christ, it’s time to surrender. Surrender? Yes… I just said, “surrender.” I know that I - maybe you too? – don’t really want to surrender anything. I grew up thinking of surrendering as a sign of weakness, failure, inadequacy. Surrender means that you lose, right? But, perhaps… surrendering is not what you think or fear.

Following Jesus’ words of wisdom, let us give to God, even surrender to God, the things that are God’s including your life, your ambitions, all the stuff you like to claim as your own – as well as  your hopes and dreams.  After all, after you have surrendered to the grace of God, the pressure is off. It’s not about you anymore. It’s about God working though you to not only bless you but also all those around you, all those you touch. It is God using the gifts that God gave you to proclaim God’s good news of love and mercy. It is God working in you to bring about the kingdom of God.   

Go ahead – pay your fair share of taxes. Jesus said, “Give to the emperor what belongs to the emperor.” But give to God all that is God’s – including your whole self and God will bless you and make you whole. Thanks be to God. Amen.

Rejoice In the Lord

I believe these last days of summer-like weather should be savored – so when I met with two women for a pastoral care meeting, we gathered outside – and one of the women brought her dog. We had a lovely conversation and the dog, a big yellow lab, sat quietly at her feet… until, without warning, a white squirrel dashed right by his nose.  That lab was chasing the squirrel up the tree in an instant – and in the process almost yanked the poor woman’s arm out of its socket. Such a little squirrel – yet he caused a big disruption.

Sometimes these days, I feel like that yellow lab – distracted by the seemingly everchanging news about the coronavirus and all of the other “bad news” that comes our way that I feel as easily distracted as the dog was by the squirrel.

On other days I resonate with a question raised by a friend of mine who ased, “Have you “hit the wall” yet?”  Quoting Aisha Ahmad, a scholar who focuses on disasters says, “that’s normal…” 1 “I always hit this wall six months into fieldwork in a disaster zone.” But she also says, “Do not despair: the six-month wall is harsh, but it is also temporary…” and there are some things that you can do to make it better.

One of the things that you can do is start a new faith practice. It could be a walk in your neighborhood – noticing all of the gifts of creation. It could be a new prayer practice. Or you could turn to Scripture – and if so, I recommend the book of Philippians. It is filled with joy! And joy is a great antidote to despair.

In today’s lesson from Philippians, Paul writes, “Rejoice in the Lord always, again, I say, Rejoice.” That’s got a happy sounding ring to it – and reminds me a bit of the Bobby McFerrin_ song, “Don’t Worry Be Happy”. It’s a happy sounding message - but Paul is not sitting on the beach writing lyrics to a pop song. Paul was sitting in prison - in chains.

Prison is a funny place to be rejoicing. But Paul is looking at the bigger picture. He is not rejoicing for his situation. He’s rejoicing – in the Lord.  And  he’s inviting people in the church of Philipi --and us to rejoice too.

Paul urges us to not only rejoice – but to “Rejoice in the Lord”– because of God’s gift of love for you. It is because of God’s gift of love that we can dare to trust in the Lord, focus on God’s never-failing presence and seek to be of the same mind as Christ.  This is Paul’s hope for the Philippians – and for us.

Rejoicing in the Lord isn’t always easy – especially in the midst of conflict. We don’t know what it was, but Paul apparently heard about a disagreement in Philippi involving two of the leaders, Euodia and Syntyche and is concerned enough to write about it – which probably means that the  disagreement was affecting the whole church.  Paul urges Eudia and Syntyche – to “be of the same mind in the Lord” and then encourages the other leaders in the community to help and support them. He calls one of the leaders, “my loyal companion” which in Greek is more literally translated as my yoke-partner.

So what is a yoke-partner? When a farmer went to plow a field, he would hook two oxen together in one double yoke. He would try to make them evenly matched in size and strength so that the one would not tire before the other but, instead, one would encourage the other. This is the relationship that Paul is hoping for Syntyche and Euodia. Euodia’s name means “the way” and so I think Paul is encouraging them – and through their example all of the Christians to become yoke-partners so that they can find “the way” IN CHRIST, together. This is what Christian community is all about – finding the way – in Christ – together.

This is more than simply asking people to put up with one another. It is about being a Christian community together. Paul urges the Philippians and us to remember their mission is to be of the same mind as Christ and then encourages them to reflect the love and joy of Christ in the way they live their daily lives.

So how can we do that in this time of the pandemic, the national reckoning on race, in a divided country? How can we do that in such a time as this? How can we hold onto joy in such a time as this?

Anthony Ray Hinton spent thirty years on death row for a crime he did not commit. When he was finally released by a unanimous Supreme Court ruling, he was asked why he didn’t seem bitter or angry. He responded, “If I’m angry and unforgiving, they will have taken the rest of my life.”  He continued, “The world didn’t give you your joy and the world can’t take it away… I refused to let anyone take my joy. … when you are blessed to see another day that should automatically give you joy. “2

Brother Steindle-Rast puts it this way, “Joy is the happiness that does not depend on what happens. It is the grateful response to the opportunity that life offers you at this moment.” 3 And this is why we can rejoice—even in such a time like this.

In the Book of Joy, Arch Bishop Tutu said that one of his faith practices during the days of apartheid was to pray daily for the government officials that were maintaining the racist unfair system. He prayed not only for God to transform their hearts and the oppressive system but sincerely prayed for their families and their health and wellbeing. He said that it helped him to love them rather than to hate them – and it made it possible for him to work with them during the transition of the country into a democracy.  It helped him to hold onto joy.

We are a short time away from the 2020 election. It may take time for the results to be tabulated. In the meantime, I have heard much anxiety expressed in the media about the results and what will happen – on both sides.

So… brothers and sisters, friends in Christ, this is our time to pray. Like Arch Bishop Tutu, let us pray - not only for the candidates that you want to win this election but also for the ones that you do NOT want to win.  Pray for the people – your friends in Christ – who may be voting differently from you.  Pray too for peace – peace for the nation, peace for those who vote and think differently than you do and peace for yourself.

For the blessing in prayer – in taking all of our cares and concerns to Christ, is–as Paul writes, that “the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.”

We can be at peace. For we know the end of the story. As Paul says, our names are written in the book of life! How much more then, should we spend this time, and these days, cultivating a spirit of joy among us, a spirit of love for the other and praying for peace for ourselves, our neighbors and our world.

And if you still get anxious, then, hear Paul’s words to the Philippians and us: “beloved, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is pleasing, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence and if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.” In Jesus’ name. Amen.

1Women in International Security-Canada and author of Jihad & Co.: Black Markets & Islamist power.

2 The Book of Joy, His Holiness the Dalai Lama and Archbishop Desmond Tutu and Douglas Adams, Penguin Random House 2016 p. 245

3 The Book of Joy, p. 245

Blessing of Animals

I was participating in my first Faith-Lilac Way Council Meeting on Zoom last week, and before we got down to the business of the evening, our group dwelled for a bit in one of the Psalms. I got to read the line, “The Lord is good to all, and his compassion is over all that he has made.” (Ps 145:9) And I had this big wondering: what if everything God has made in all of creation has an element of God’s personality within it? I hadn’t really thought about it that way before, but it began to make sense to me.

We need look no further than our furry, finned, or feathered family members…that is, our pets…to be reminded of how God’s personality is alive in creation. Am I right?

About a year ago, we welcomed our puppy Hazel, a double-doodle (which is a combination of a Golden Doodle and a Labradoodle) into our family. Let me tell you, it was not a great time for such a big commitment. I had just started a demanding job at the hospital and my husband had just had foot surgery and was on crutches. I’m not sure what possessed us to do this, come to think of it. We didn’t even have time to mow our own lawn, much less get up at night with a puppy! Yet train the puppy we did…somehow. 

After COVID hit in March, and everyone was trapped at home, we looked back at our decision from a few months earlier and said…getting this puppy was one of the best things we have ever done. To me, Hazel is such a reminder of the radical welcome of God. She knows exactly when I wake up in the morning, and she is the first one to come greet me with exuberant puppy kisses and a wagging tail. Just think: every morning, I have a family member that comes up to tell me I am basically the best thing in the whole world! When my kids are sad or anxious or bored, cuddles and play time with Hazel seem to make everything in the world okay again. No matter what mischief she gets into, no matter how many little socks she swallows or how many tears she makes in the furniture, I will always know her to be a gift from God during a troubling time.

I’m sure that those of you with pets in your care and even those of you who just enjoy creatures in the wild can relate to seeing God’s very personality in animals. Indeed, God’s personality shows up in all of creation. In wind, rain and earthquake; in sunshine, rainbow, and star; in mountain top, moon, and sea floor. If we are in relationship with God, then it seems that we are also in relationship with creation.

On the occasion of the “World Day of Prayer for the Care of Creation” in September, Pope Francis wrote beautifully, and I quote:[1]

“[This] is indeed a time of grace to remember creation’s original vocation to exist and flourish as a community of love. We exist only in relationships: with God the Creator, with our brothers and sisters as members of a common family, and with all of God’s creatures within our common home. ‘Everything is related, and we human beings are united as brothers and sisters on a wonderful pilgrimage, woven together by the love God has for each of [God’s] creatures and which also unites us in fond affection with brother sun, sister moon, brother river and mother earth.” 

Today is a day to give thanks to God and bless the animals who we love and who love us so dearly, but it is also time to pause, to look with humility on our place in creation, to reimagine our deep connection to all living things, and to recommit to the stewardship of our world.

May we learn to balance our needs with the needs of all creation, and to walk in ways of life together that sustain us all.

Amen. 

[1]http://www.vatican.va/content/francesco/en/messages/pont-messages/2020/documents/papa-francesco_20200901_messaggio-giornata-cura-creato.html

In this beautiful letter

In this beautiful letter to the church he founded in Philippi, Paul calls his beloved friends into the humility of Christ by recalling one of the earliest hymns of the Christian church.

This “Christ hymn” was likely very meaningful to the Philippians; perhaps they even knew it by heart, much like we know the Lord’s Prayer or the Apostle’s Creed, or our own favorite hymn. In it, the very essence of Christ’s self-sacrificing heart is captured poetically. Paul uses the hymn to comfort the Philippians who face difficult times and to nudge them in the direction of Christ’s humility and unity as a church. Maybe during these days, we need that comfort and nudge too.    

Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus, Paul writes. I don’t know about you, but most time the thought of “having the same mind that was in Jesus Christ” – seems like one tall order. How exactly am I to empty and humble myself like Christ, when Christ went so far as to lay down his life for me, for us? Where does one go for “practical advice” on this seemingly impossible ask?

When I search for contemporary examples of Christ-like humility, I immediately jump to giants of the faith like Mother Teresa. Now here was a young Catholic girl from Albania named Agnes, who, at the age of twelve, heard a strong call from God. She became a nun and lived a life of devotion and self-sacrifice, working tirelessly on behalf of the poorest of the poor in the slums of Calcutta, India. Her missionary work spread all over the world, earning her numerous awards and distinctions, including the Nobel Peace Prize in 1979. Surely, this was the kind of life Paul had in mind as he wrote to his church in Philippi.

Yet did you know that a book of Mother Teresa’a letters published after her death revealed that she, in fact, was deeply tormented about her faith throughout her life? She was deeply doubtful about God, spiritually empty more often than not. She was, indeed, deeply human.     

Still, she continued, holding the hands of lepers, and kissing the cheeks of those who were starving to death…witnessing to Christ through her hands, her smile, and her loving presence. I wonder if she was also searching for Christ in the faces of those she served.

It seems that no matter who we are in this life, to allow the mind of Christ to be shaped within is, in part to know deeply that we need one another.

As I listen to Paul’s letter to the Philippians again, I’m struck by how deeply Paul and the members of his church needed one another as they collectively persevered in the faith. Paul calls the Philippians his beloved (Phil 2:12), joyously recounting all they have meant to one another. The truth is that even as Paul’s founding words and presence led many in this early church to Christ, it is the people of the church who have sustained Paul’s broader ministry, spiritually, emotionally, and financially. Now, in prison and facing an uncertain future at the hands of the Romans, Paul reached out once more in solidarity, to help them with their internal conflicts, to rekindle their unity and shared purpose in Christ. As one commentator put it: “[Paul and the Philippians] are coparticipants in the good news about the things God has accomplished through Jesus Christ.”[1]

To co-labor with Christ is to open our hearts to both the giving and receiving of love and fellowship – to open our hearts to the reciprocity of being Christ to one another – just as was the case between Paul and the members of this early church in Philippi. 

Sometimes, this reciprocity hits home in a moment shared with a complete stranger.

Last year, about this time of year, I had just started working at Methodist Hospital as a chaplain. I was rushing to work one morning and everything seemed to be going wrong. I had slept through my alarm, I had no time to make coffee, the kids barely got to the bus on time…and when I finally got on the highway to work, there was a major traffic jam. And then, when I got into the parking garage at the hospital, I took a wrong turn, and ended up going in circles for a while. I was nervous to be seeing patients that day for the first time, and now I was late for work.

As I yanked my heavy bag out from the car, and rushed into the hospital, I noticed from a distance a nurse in scrubs standing outside the parking lot door, holding it wide open for me. She had warm eyes and a knowing smile, and she simply said, “I’m leaving and you are coming.”

It was a small act of kindness, really, but the moment we shared was sacred. Something inside of me really saw this nurse. I saw that she looked weary after a long night of work, her ponytail messy and her mascara smeared. And she clearly saw me, harried and anxious, and looked out for me by opening the door. We were two strangers who saw one another as beloved. One person giving what she could give, the other receiving what she needed. Christ was present, I am certain of it.

That’s the other piece about taking on the mind of Christ. It means having a capacity to really see people, for who they are, beloved children of God, and opening their doors when we can. Not just literal doors, though that is kind too. But when we act with the heart of Christ, we open metaphorical doors for others: we share our time and attention, we share our resources, and we are willing to share our own power and privilege with others who lack it. This is exactly how Christ emptied himself for us.   

To find Christ, is to need and seek out one another. To really see one another as beloved. To give graciously and receive gratefully. And to share what power and privilege we have in this life with others. Even as I write these words, they seem like such simple truths about humility. But they are profoundly counter-cultural, in Paul’s day and today, in a world that says greed and power should rule the day. In a world that says the first shall be first, and the last shall be last. In a world that says hold on to whatever you have for yourself.

Jesus came into this world to show us a different way. 

It is not an easy way. And it is not a comfortable way. And sometimes it doesn’t even seem fair. But our God gives us a precious gift, the gift of abundant faith and with it the vision to see Christ working in the world, and the strength to be Christ working in the world.    

Dear friends, may you find comfort and unity in the humble heart of Christ and in one another today.

Amen.

[1] Matthew L. Skinner, A Companion to the New Testament: Paul and the Pauline Letters (Waco, Texas: Baylor University Press, 2018) 197.

Generosity

There is a part of me that really doesn’t like this parable and another part that loves it.

First – why I really don’t like this parable.  I grew up on a small dairy farm and when it was harvest season – like now – everyone worked. So having spent some summers working all day in the heat and the sun, I can sympathize with those who worked all day - and resented getting paid the same as those who worked just an hour. They cry out, “Not fair!” and they grumble.

And I get it – it just doesn’t seem fair. I understand that grumbling – and I may have grumbled too. But that doesn’t put me in very good company.  It puts me with the workers who worked all day and grumbled; the pharisees who were constantly grumbling and with the older brother of the prodigal son – remember, he complained of his father’s generosity too. This parable teaches me that although I grew up being told to be “fair,” sometimes being fair isn’t always the best course of action. 

For example, imagine that I had a big project to do in my yard. And then suppose there were three neighborhood youth hanging out at the corner nearby. I knew them and so I called out to them, “Hey, can you come and help me? I need to get this cleared. And I’ve got doughnuts for those who help!”

 A couple of kids came over and started to help. One ignored me, busy with his phone. The two kids and I worked and worked but we were barely making a dent. Then I saw a few other kids on another corner. I made the same offer and they came to help too. This went on for the whole afternoon. At the end of the day, even the guy on his phone came to help – for about 15 minutes. But, together, we got the job done. 

So how do I give out the doughnuts? Do I parcel out the doughnuts based on the time that each one worked? Do I give 5 doughnuts to the ones who came first?  And then a couple to the ones who came after that? And then tear off a quarter of a doughnut for the one who came last? It would be fair, right?  But not the best solution. I would likely make the first two sick and shame the last one.

In Jesus’ story, the owner doesn’t seem at all concerned about being “fair” or about paying by the hour. Instead, he chooses to be generous to those who weren’t chosen first.

We don’t know the stories of the workers in the vineyard or why some of them weren’t hired at the beginning of the day. We do know that daily wage workers depended in those days and still today on working every day in order to make ends meet. But it’s possible that some were simply lazy and slept in.  But maybe one of them had to take care of his kids before he left for work. Maybe another one of them lived out of town and had to walk to the job center because he didn’t have any bus fare. Maybe some of them looked weak or old or sickly and no one wanted to hire them. We don’t know. All we know is that the vineyard owner simply chooses to give them what they need – and not what they deserve.

Jonah, in our first lesson, gets mad at God for not giving the Ninevites the treatment they deserve – which is the destruction of their city and their lives. Even God had called the Nineva a wicked city.  But instead of just crushing them, God decides to send Jonah to proclaim their destruction if they did not repent.

It’s a great story, but often we just focus on the escapades of Jonah running away from God and getting swallowed by a whale. When Jonah finally is convinced to go to Ninevah, he gives the most effective sermon ever – just one sentence warning that the people of Ninevah would be destroyed in 40 days. It worked. The king and all the people listened and repented and then… God changed God’s mind and forgave them. And Jonah got mad.

Jonah yells, “O Lord! Is not this what I said while I was still in my own country? That is why I fled; …for I knew that you are a gracious God and merciful, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love, and ready to relent from punishing.”  And then he pouts. He grumbles.

And this makes me think about those times when I have been caught grumbling when things don’t seem fair. (And I’m reminded that those who are grumbling are always the ones who are doing the opposite of God’s will and God’s way).  So, perhaps instead of asking if something is fair (or complaining when it is not) the question that I need to ask is a different one. Maybe I need to ask: what is the most gracious and generous way that I can respond? Because that’s the way God responds – and the way God wants us to respond to one another too,

For Jonah was right about who God is. God is gracious, merciful, slow to anger, loving and… ready to forgive.  That’s why God chose to give the Ninevites what they needed – a prophet -- so that they could change their ways – instead of the destruction that they deserved.

This is God’s character. God chooses to forgive the Ninevites and the rest of us sinners – all of us - who fall short of being the people that God made us to be. Instead of giving us what we deserve – God gives us something much, much better. God gives us Jesus – to be our savior who forgives us, restores us, renews us and promises to be with us always. Instead of being fair, God is generous with me – and you –and gives us far more than we can imagine.

And this is why I love this parable. It not only shows God’s grace and generosity but also encourages me – and you -- to be and act like our best selves. In the midst of the challenges of this day, it isn’t easy. But even at times like these, we can pray that the Holy Spirit gives us the grace to show generosity to one another– not only to our friends but also to those we call stranger, those you may disagree with, “those other people” or even those you don’t like… which sometimes includes ourselves.   And God, who hears all our prayers, will graciously give you – and me – the courage to show mercy, grace and love too. Thanks be to God! Amen.

Generous God, thank you for giving us mercy, love and grace instead of giving us what we deserve. Help us to show that same love and grace to others. Lord in your mercy….

Forgiven

Forgiveness. We all want to be forgiven. But forgiving someone else – from the heart - especially for a deep hurt – that’s harder.

Last fall, a young black man named Brandt Jean sat on the witness stand speaking to the former police officer, Amber Guyger, who was convicted of murdering his brother Bothem. Amber had entered Bothem’s apartment, thinking it was her own, and seeing him,  she thought he was an intruder, and shot him on the spot. At her trial, Brant was to testify to the personal hurt and loss and the damage that she caused by killing his brother. But instead, Brandt said, “speaking for myself, I forgive and love you just as any other person.” He invited her to give her life to Christ who would also forgive her. He that that this is what his brother would have wanted too. He then asked the judge permission to give her a hug, which the judge granted. I’ve included the link to the clip from the Dallas courtroom. If you haven’t seen it, it is worth watching. 1

Forgiveness of such a horrible crime amazes me not only because it is unusual but also because it feels like it goes against our natural instincts. When hurt, we have a right to be angry. We want justice. We want to hold the person accountable. We want someone to pay.  But, in time, for our own sake, we also need to be able to come to a place of peace and, hopefully, forgiveness.

The Amish understand the importance of forgiveness. Remember the story of the Amish people who not only forgave the man who shot their daughters in their schoolhouse but also befriended his parents? Steven Nolt, a professor of Amish studies, said that most people work through grief and pain – and then comes acceptance and perhaps forgiveness. However, the Amish have a practice of forgiving first. They still have to work through their grief and pain, but they start from a different place. They start from a faith practice of forgiveness. 2

Jonas Beiler, an Amish family counselor said,  "Tragedy changes you. You can't stay the same… Where that lands you don't always know. But what I found out, in my own experience, if you bring what little pieces you have left to God, he somehow helps you make good out of it.” 3    

It was because of his faith that Brandt Jean was able to forgive Amber, the white former police officer who killed his brother. But, he wisely did not offer forgiveness from anyone else in his family. It was only from himself, from his heart. For forgiveness can’t be mandated or given on behalf of anyone else. 

Brandt Jean received praise for his gracious word of forgiveness, But, as Bernice King, the youngest daughter of Coretta Scott King and Martin Luther King Jr. said, “don't confuse his forgiveness with absolving this nation for its gross, bitter discrimination against Black people in a myriad of its systems and policies.”4  She’s right. As a country, we still have a problem with racism and it is not going to be solved by the families of victims simply forgiving those who hurt them. Forgiveness opens the door for reconciliation. It does not condone or excuse the harm that was done.

Forgiveness is an act of grace towards someone who has harmed or hurt you in some way.  And, as much as it is a gift to another, it can also help in your own healing. As Brandt’s mother Allison said, "I'm proud of you my son, Brandt. Your load is lighter… Forgiveness is for the forgiver and it doesn't matter what the forgiven does with it." 3She’s right. Forgiveness, by itself, does not change the one who is forgiven.

We see this in Jesus’ story. The king forgave the slave who begged for mercy. That slave owed an incredible amount. There was no way that he or his children or even his children’s children would ever be able to repay it.  But, instead of responding with mercy and forgiveness as he had been forgiven, he chose to use his power against the one who owed him just a small sum. 

Jesus’ story begs the question, “How could someone who had been forgiven so much – not turn around and forgive someone else who owed him so little?”

Indeed, that’s the question for us too, isn’t it?  We – you and I – have been forgiven ALL of the times in which we have not been the people God made us to be. Jesus forgives us for the times in which we put our own selfish wants and desires above loving God and above caring for God’s creation, including our neighbors, our family, and the world around us.  Speaking for myself, how can I, who have been forgiven so much, so many times, NOT  forgive others?  

And yet, forgiveness does not always come easily.

I’ve noticed that the pandemic has put additional stress on everyone. And it is starting to show. For example, the other day the manager of a grocery store came out and yelled at a bunch of kids. She would have never done that in “normal times.” In another store, one shopper snarkily chided another for not properly wearing her mask. In this time of the pandemic, it seems to me that a lot of people need to, as the Romans text scripture reminds us, “mind your own knitting.”  Finally, it may be me, but it seems as if there is a lot of very fast and unsafe driving lately.  Frankly, I think people are all just a little frayed at the edges and the stress and anxiety of these times is simply coming out sideways.

So how can we begin to reclaim and live into the gracious life that Jesus calls us into?

Maybe it begins with silently forgiving the little microaggressions that we encounter on the highway or in the grocery story. Or maybe it begins by paying attention to and remembering some of the many times that we have received forgiveness. 

For example, this chair is a reminder to me of forgiveness. The needlepoint work was made by my mother a long time ago when I was a little girl. She worked on it for years and was so proud when she finally finished it. 

Shortly after she completed it, for some reason, I took a glass of grape juice into our living room and sat down in this chair. Now we were never allowed to bring food or beverages of any kind into the living room, so why I was doing this, I don’t know. But I do remember that just as I sat down, I slipped, and the entire glass of grape juice fell onto the chair. And not in one spot. It went all over. I was horrified. And so was my mother.  She was also really angry. But… despite her anger, she forgave me.

To this day, I don’t know how she got the stain out of it – but I can tell you this:  It was an answer to prayer.

Brothers and sisters, friends in Christ, we are all forgiven sinners. Like the slave in the Gospel, we too have been forgiven far more than we could ever repay.  So let our song be that God would mold us and form us and shape us so that we can lived grace – filled lives, in imitation of God: slow to anger and quick to forgive.  We pray this in Jesus’ name, Amen.

1Video  https://www.youtube.com/watch?time_continue=4&v=vYsMlKCa9EQ&feature=emb_logo

2. NPR Mpr News Amish Forgive School Shooter, Struggle with Grief  https://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=14900930

3. https://www.independent.co.uk/extras/lifestyle/how-amish-community-forgave-murderer-s-mother-a7343341.html

4 https://www.npr.org/2019/10/03/766866875/brandt-jeans-act-of-grace-toward-his-brother-s-killer-sparks-a-debate-over-forgi

5. Kathryn Schifferdecker, Forgiveness Is at the Core Sunday, Sept 06,  2020  https://www.workingpreacher.org/craft.aspx?post=5454

Speaking the Truth in Love: Opening the Door to Reconciliation

Do you read the comics? In a recent Calvin and Hobbs comic, Calvin “kidnapped” his neighbor Suzie’s doll. Suzie was outraged…much to the amusement of Calvin. But then… Suzie grabbed Calvin’s stuffed tiger, “Hobbs” and ran into her house and locked the door.  Now Calvin was outraged.  He complains, “So I kidnapped her stupid doll. She didn’t need to retaliate! Can’t she take a joke? Girls have No sense of humor. That’s their whole problem! And then he says…All this was funny until she did the same thing to me….”

Retaliation.  Revenge. Conflict. You probably have been living alone on a deserted island if you have never experienced conflict.  But even then… did you hear about the man who was rescued from a deserted island? He proudly showed the crew that found him his house and even the church that he had built. But one of the crew noticed another building.  He asked the man, what’s that?  Oh, the man replied, “that’s the other church. I never go there.”  

In our Gospel, Jesus speaks about conflict – especially church conflict. Most of us, including me, don’t like to talk about conflict. We would rather avoid it altogether. Why borrow trouble? After all… our world seems to be full of conflict already – one group calling out another, wanting to “cancel” each other’s voices. The news and social media are full of angry voices confronting the “other side,” one side vilifying another.  And yet, as I read and studied in preparation for today, I realized that Matthew’s community may not have been that much different from ours. That community was also steeped in conflict – the issues were different but the pain and strife was the same. 

It is to a hurting community, a torn community, that Matthew writes the story of Jesus in his Gospel. Just prior to today’s lesson, Matthew shares the story of Jesus lifting up the vulnerable, calling children to him and reminding his readers and us that the good shepherd goes and leaves the 99 sheep in order to find and restore the one sheep who was lost. So keep the image of the children in Jesus’ arms and the good shepherd seeking the lost in the back of your mind as you hear today’s lesson of confronting those who have done wrong. The goal is not to shame another child of God or to hold anyone up for ridicule. The goal is that even the lost, or the one who has hurt us or the one who has done wrong may be restored into Christian community. And that is the story that we need to hear in our world today.  

Instead, Jesus is calling for conversation. Notice how many times Jesus invites listening – first speak directly to the one who you think need correction. Then, if you aren’t listened to, invite others. If the person still doesn’t listen, then invite the whole church.  If they still won’t listen, then “let them be as tax collectors and sinners.” That’s confusing because Jesus spent a lot of time with “tax collectors and sinners” AND he just got done talking about the Good Shepherd who looks for the lost sheep – which would include “tax collectors and sinners” AND this passage leads into another about forgiveness. So, what is the church to do?  Well…before making judgments, what if we stopped and took our time with the invitation to listen.   

Pastor Ryan was struggling in his new congregation. Actually he loved his congregation  - except for one person. I’ll call her Sarah. Every time Pastor Ryan suggested a new course of action for the church, Sarah opposed it. Every time she suggested something, Pastor Ryan shot it down. Their conflict started to get entrenched and people started choosing sides. Finally, Sarah had had enough. She went to the Bishop and complained about Pastor Ryan. The Bishop called Pastor Ryan – and he complained about Sarah. The Bishop, being wise, called them together. He invited each of them to tell the other what they wanted for the church. And then he made the listener repeat back what they had heard. The Bishop would ask the first person – “Is that right? Is that what you meant?” If not, they had to try it again. Back and forth – listening, repeating, listening some more.  Pastor Ryan said that, by the end of the conversation, they both realized that they had said some hurtful things to one another for which they needed to ask forgiveness. But they also realized that, while they had different visions, there was some room for overlap between their visions and that maybe they could even build the community – together. 1

The goal of confronting someone with the truth is not to put them down. It’s not about winning the argument or proving that you are right. As professor and theologian Michael Chan writes, “Confrontation is a necessary companion on the road of reconciliation. But when confrontation does occur it should be done in a way that invites reconciliation among the interested parties, all of whom stand condemned and forgiven at the cross.”2

In other words, when there is a conflict within the church because someone has done something to hurt another or one person seeks to correct another, it is important to tell the truth – and – telling the truth must be done with the goal of reconciliation, restoring the community. 

As Pastor Ryan and Sarah found, it may have just as much to do with listening as it does with talking.  They also discovered that, while at first they did not like one another much at all, they both took the risk to be vulnerable enough to speak and listen to the truth with open hearts, open minds and with open ears of love. As a result, they were able to do so much more together than they ever could have when they were fighting each other.  The surprise blessing was that, in the end, they became friends. 

All relationships don’t have this happy ending.  There are times that… at least on this earth… speaking the truth does not result in reconciliation. There are times that the one who sinned – the one who hurt you, the one you are trying to correct  – does not want to change. And there are times that relationships need to be severed.  Sometimes that’s the most loving thing to do. As a wise counselor once told me, you break up with everyone that you don’t marry. Sometimes relationships change – and need to change or end in order for other relationships to begin.  

The challenge for us as a Christian community is to speak the truth in such a way that everyone can hear it, receive it, be convicted by it and be restored to community. This is not easy.  And sometimes we will fail because, after all… we are all sinners. We areallsinners.  

But… the good news is that even when we can’t agree, even when we or someone else won’t listen, Jesus promises to be with us, saying “for when two or more are gathered in my name, I am with you.” This is the real blessing that comes from this scripture. For Jesus, the one who came as “God WITH Us” is still with us, and promises to alwaysbe with us. And that, brothers and sisters in Christ, is Good News. Thanks be to God.   

1https://asermonforeverysunday.com/sermons/a41-the-fourteenth-sunday-after-pentecost-year-a-2020/by Rev. Ryan Ahlgrim

2https://www.workingpreacher.org/craft.aspx?post=5453 by Rev. Dr. Michael Chan

Discipleship: Following Jesus

We read the Bible in bits and pieces. And that makes sense. We want to focus on the Word of God, and delve deep. But sometimes that chops up the story and we only get part of the story each Sunday. Last Sunday we heard hear Peter declare, “You are the son of God, the Messiah!” and Jesus blesses him. But when Jesus starts showing them that he will suffer and die and rise again, Peter could not get past the suffering and dying part. He couldn’t fathom a suffering savior so he says, “God forbid it Lord! This must never happen to you.” In this one conversation, Peter is both given eyes to see Jesus as the Messiah and then attempts to make Jesus into his own image of what the Messiah should be. Peter reveals himself as a blessed saint – and a selfish sinner… all at the same time.

Jesus blesses Peter for his proclamation but he will not tolerate anyone – not even Peter – however well-intentioned he may have been – interfering in God’s mission to save the whole world.  Jesus blasts Peter with words that echo what he said to Satan after Satan tried to get Jesus to use power for his own sake. However, there’s one important difference. Jesus tells Satan to leave; he tells Peter to get behind him and then tells him – and all his disciples to follow. The word disciple means learner or student. And it’s really hard to learn if we don’t know how to follow.

Sometimes it’s hard to follow. I remember once when I was young trying to dance with my sister – and we both were trying to lead. We ended up stepping on each other’s toes and were both quite frustrated. Finally, she looked down at me – she’s quite a bit taller -- and said, “I’ll lead, you follow. Got it?” Yep. Message received. After that, we were able to whirl and twirl around the room. 

We were just trying to dance. Jesus was teaching his disciples to pick up their cross and follow him – despite not knowing where it would lead. Jesus was teaching his disciples to trust in him. 

Sometimes it’s hard to know how to follow – even when we want to.  That’s how it was for Peter… and that’s a bit how it feels for us today.

We are in a liminal time, a time between the “old way” when people could shake hands and worship together in church without fear that we might accidentally infect someone else or become infected and the “new way.”  Right now, we do what we can to help one another – protecting and loving our neighbor by wearing a mask and washing our hands and giving air-hugs instead of bear hugs. But we are still on the threshold of the door, at a time betwixt and between. And … just as when a door opens and we know there are new possibilities on the other side, we also realize that we aren’t there yet and we can only imagine what these possibilities may be.  

So how do we follow Jesus? Is it just the same – or has it changed somehow?

I think the answer is yes.  One thing that has changed is that technology allows us to reach out to one another in new ways. Not only are we able to worship online together – something I would never have dreamt possible – but we are also able to reach out to one another personally. For example, last week I found out that my aunt was entering hospice. Normally, I tried to visit her – even though she lives 5 hours away from me – but because of covid19, I couldn’t. But… because of technology – specifically Facetime – I was able to talk with and see Aunt Ethel. She couldn’t say much but I could see her smile and nod as my sister and I chatted with her and her daughter. We were able to connect and pray together in a new way.

But, while we can’t pick up another’s cross or take away the suffering of someone who is hurting because of covid19 or anything else; and we can’t erase the history of racial injustice and we can’t negate emotional stress or feelings of isolation, we can work to seek justice for our neighbor and we can help to bear the burden of another’s pain, another’s cross.

I’ve seen many of you step up again and again to help bear the burden of another’s pain. But, it’s also good to accept help from others and let others help bear your pain. After all, Jesus accepted the help of Simon of Cyrene to carry his cross. And Jesus was comforted by the women bystanders at his cross who stood and prayed, brought spices to his tomb and brought the news that Jesus had risen to the disciples.  Like Jesus, we can accept the help, the love and the care of our brothers and sisters in Christ when we are in pain.  We don’t have to carry our pain, our suffering, our “cross” alone. 

Jesus calls us, invites us to follow him and invites the disciples – and us -- to pick up our cross. Jesus does this – not because he wants us to suffer. But, perhaps, Jesus invites us to pick up the challenges that come our way because Jesus knows suffering and pain do come into each life and choosing to pick it up, and trusting in Jesus to help us, will end up being the better way.

Pastor and author Susan Beaumont tells the story of her sister-in-law who received a diagnosis of early onset Alzheimer’s disease.  Some of the family wanted her to get another opinion. Others favored researching new experimental treatments.  But instead of striving against the disease, her brother and sister-in-law, after much prayer, decided to surrender to what appeared inevitable. Susan writes, “some may view this as a sign of weakness…. It wasn’t. Their surrender was an act of incredibly bravery.” It allowed them to make decisions and choices so that she could live meaningful life and they could prepare for what was to come. For example, she became a national spokesperson for the Alzheimer’s Association while she could still speak and they chose a home that she could live in even as the disease progressed. Some may have been bitter and considered this diagnosis an unfair cross that they had to bear, but Beaumont’s brother had a different explanation. He said, “This disease chose us but I choose it back… for everything that it can teach me about myself and our future.”1

Like Susan Beaumont’s brother and sister-in-law, we too have or will have challenges in our path. We may not feel as confident about picking up our cross as they did. And yet… Jesus has promised to be with you too – and you can trust in him. Thanks be to God. Amen.