This is a recording of the service from 12-27-20. It is a rebroadcast of last year's Sunday after Christmas. It is a compilation of readings and carols.
Tonight’s gospel reading begins with three very important words: In those days! “In those days a decree went out from Emperor Augustus that all the world should be registered.” As we think about this treasured story, I am going to say something that just may shatter some of your preconceived notions. I must tell you, there is no historical evidence that this decree, as told by Luke, ever took place. And, unless there is something we do not know, the writer of Luke’s gospel also seems to be incorrect about Quirinius or Herod the Great or both because traditional dating of the birth of Jesus would locate it during the reigns of neither Herod the Great nor Quirinius. So, what is going on here? Well, Luke is not interested in giving an historical account of Jesus’ birth because he is interested in proclaiming a much deeper truth!
Luke gives us this information, not as history, but as a theological work to tell the story of One who has come into this world to change and quite literally shatter the status quo. Luke’s gospel, more than any of the other gospels, addresses the social, cultural, and political environment. So, Luke gives us this information as a way of setting the political and social context for the coming appearance of this One we call Jesus and the astonishing, awesome arrival of a brand-new world. Luke begins with “In those days…” as he depicts a time of census taking and taxes, a time of authoritative orders and pronouncements, a time shaped by business as usual in a world organized by accepted oppressive power structures, a world where those in power work to maintain the tired and hopeless status quo. The setting of Luke’s version of the Jesus story begins in the context of manifest political power, a context that, quite frankly, describes almost any time in history. Luke names the status quo way political, economic, and social forces shape our lives and our minds and our hearts to the point where we think that is the only reality. You see, that is the story of the world, that is the human story, the story of our human predicament. That is the story of “in those days.”
Yes, this gospel begins by naming the story of the status quo, tired and hopeless, business as usual human predicament of “in those days.,” so that we can begin to grasp the earth-shattering news that is announced about “This day…!” You see, a new time, a whole new age, has entered the world on “this day…” in the most unexpected way – in the form of a small, vulnerable baby. And, this new time is characterized not by the drudgery of business as usual or the threat of imperial power, but by the inbreaking of the heavenly realm, the wonder of the songs of angels, and the “good news of great joy for all people!” For “this day” has a political dimension; this new time is a direct challenge to the imperial world of “in those days.” There is a new Savior, a title formerly reserved only for the emperor. And, this new Savior comes in the form of a vulnerable baby, as God is birthing a whole new creation. This new day brings the extraordinary wonder of God becoming flesh – Immanuel, God with us. Can you now begin to grasp the magnitude of this earth-shattering news?
Friends, on this night, the news we receive is astounding, and we dare not forget the scandal and magnitude of this news, news of both the cradle and the cross. We dare not be lulled by our culture’s attempts to sentimentalize Christmas. We all do it and to be honest, it even happens in the church. Think for a moment about how our own hymnody conspires to tame this festival day into something more palatable and more feel good. Consider the opening of the beloved carol O Little Town of Bethlehem. “O little town of Bethlehem, how still we see thee lie.” Lovely words from Phillips Brooks. But, if we think about the tumultuous history of the Middle East, imagining Bethlehem as peaceful more expresses a longing than a historical reality. And what about Away In A Manger telling us, “The cattle are lowing, the baby awakes, but little Lord Jesus no crying he makes?” No crying? Any nurse or doctor would call that a zero on the Apgar score and would start resuscitation attempts immediately. Seriously, while we need these images to help us ponder the wonder and mystery of this night, they also soften and sentimentalize the scandal and earth-shattering nature of Christmas. Between sentimentality, emotional burdens, the pain so many are presently feeling, and unrealistic cultural expectations, perhaps we need this child of God to shake up what we have made of Christmas.
Friends, the reality is we come together this night to pay honor to our God who subversively came to change everything! And, how does God create this earth-shattering disruption? By bringing unconditional, transformational love to the world. This subversive God snuck into the back door of history on a mission to truly disrupt and change the world by turning our lives inside out and upside down with a love that truly changes us, a love that can transform everything and everyone. Coming as one of us – vulnerable, poor, and powerless – he came to upend the world as we have constructed it by bringing love into the world, a love the world would otherwise have never known.
He came to shatter our selfishness and narcissism, so that we might be able to love God and others. He came to shatter our fear of death, so that we might be able to live more fully and freely in this life. He came to shatter and change the political systems that choose who is in and who is out, so that we might embrace a wider vision the human family and discover that God’s family includes all people. He came to shatter our tendency of tribalism, something we presently see pushed to the extreme as it pits one group against another. He came to change our economy of values to build a different one based on valuing the eternal and life that truly matters. He came to shatter the old regimes of “in those days,” and bring in a whole new regime. Yes, he came to shatter every structure we try to build which puts us first at the expense of everyone else. He came to change us, and he calls us to follow him.
This is no small thing. For 2000 plus years, people have gathered to mark the birth of Christ as God’s subversive way of dwelling among us. Tonight, as we gather in the darkness of this pandemic, even if our gathering is online, we gather to celebrate this subversive God and mark a vision of the kingdom of God unfolding right here in our midst. And we do this because to you is born this day a Savior, who is the Messiah, Christ the Lord. May the wonder and mystery of this holy child disrupt and change your life, and bring you renewed hope not only on this day, but on every day as we move forward into yet another year. And, may the grace and love of this child be planted in your heart so that you may more deeply come to know how immeasurably you are loved by the God of all creation!
I would like to share with you the words of a new Advent hymn by David Bjorlin, a hymn that so beautifully describes what I am feeling in the deepest part of my being at this present time. These are the verses:
Come now, O God, when our love is forsaken.
Come, when our bedrock of faith has been shaken.
Come, when our deepest of hopes are mistaken.
Come, Emmanuel. Come, Emmanuel.
Come, when we squander the freedom you gave us.
Come, break the systems of sin that enslave us.
Come, though we wonder if you can still save us.
Come, Emmanuel. Come, Emmanuel.
Come, put an end to our self-serving madness.
Come, while the world is enshrouded in sadness.
Come, turn the tears of our mourning to gladness.
Come, Emmanuel. Come, Emmanuel.
Advent is a time to acknowledge and be honest about our longing for God to break into what was and what is. It is a time to articulate our longing for God to break into our forsaken love, our shaken faith, our mistaken hopes, the skewed ways we have squandered and abused the freedom we have been given, the systems of sin that enslave us, our self-serving madness, the world’s sadness, and our grieving tears. This longing we express with the words, “Come, though we wonder if you can still save us,” makes clear to me that we, on our own as human beings, are not capable of creating our own salvation. And, quite honestly, we do not even have the capacity to imagine the ways of God. The salvation we so long for is always something that must come from beyond us, beyond our own human understanding. The ways of God need to disrupt our present situation and break into our lives for us to become changed. And, we cannot anticipate how God will act, how God will break into human history – how God will surprisingly break into our history in truly unexpected ways.
So, as we live this season, I envision Advent as a time that could be compared to something like a hinge – it is a liminal, transitional space that holds the past and the future in tension. Advent invites us to be aware and to discern, to notice where a holy disruption breaks into what is and brings transformation. It is about being aware of the places where God is breaking into this world, where God is at work in our world, and where God is at work in our lives.
This year the tension of that liminal, transitional space has been especially strong. In the face of this pandemic, as we see thousands of people dying, as we see the growing economic blight, and the political self-serving madness and strife, quite frankly the peace foretold by ancient prophets seems illusory at best. The justice that makes valleys low and rough places a plain seems far off in face of oppressive, racist systems that scapegoat immigrants and devalue lives of color. And, when we consider our personal challenges and pains, and those of our family and friends, it can be confusing and very overwhelming. That is why, today’s gospel reading is such good news!
Today, as we look at our gospel reading, we can learn from Mary’s example. In today’s reading, Luke tells us that redemption is possible and, in fact, has already happened. Because of the birth, life, death, and resurrection of the Universal Christ, the holy continues to break into our lives to bring us ever more closely to the completion of creation.
When we look at today’s gospel, Mary, just like us, seems to be confused and overwhelmed. As we look at Mary’s response to Gabriel’s message, we discover she really does not fully comprehend the meaning of this news and, in fact, she has a choice in how she will respond. Theologian, Barbara Brown Taylor, addresses with deep insight the question of Mary's "choice," her freedom to respond in this most unusual situation in which she finds herself. Taylor says that, yes, the angel announced the impending birth and did not ask Mary for her assent, but there is a choice for Mary, "whether to take hold of the unknown life the angel held out to her or whether to defend herself against it however she could.” As she receives this news from God, Mary asks, “How can this be?” And then, she becomes not simply a passive recipient of this news. She responds by saying yes to this experience. She actively becomes a willing partner in the holy disruption that befalls her. And, because of her response, Mary’s womb gives birth to the Son of God and new life to the world.
Today’s gospel reading is all about the incarnation, it is about Emmanuel, God with us. Friends, this story of Mary is truly OUR story. It is about incarnate Love, incarnate Love that is with us, not just in a manger long ago but reborn in each one of us, reborn in the here and now. It is about saying yes to God’s incarnate love as it breaks into the most unexpected places and in the most surprising ways in each of our lives, saying yes so God is again born into this world. The 13th century philosopher, theologian, and mystic Meister Eckhart (1260-1328) echoes this when he writes:
We are all meant to be mothers of God. What good is it to me if this eternal birth of the divine Son takes place unceasingly, but does not take place within myself? And, what good is it to me if Mary is full of grace if I am not also full of grace? What good is it to me for the Creator to give birth to God’s very Son if I do not also give birth to him in my time and my culture? This, then, is the fullness of time: When the Son of Man is begotten in us.
Yes, Mary’s story is our story. Incarnation is an ongoing and steady process, not just a historic event. And, like Mary, we are given the gift of choice. Mary had the freedom to respond in this most unusual situation, and we are given this freedom as well. We can decide whether to take hold of the unknown life God holds out to us, even in these present, challenging circumstances, or whether to defend ourselves against it however we might.
Taylor says, “We have a similar choice between possibilities in our own lives. We can respond by saying yes or no: yes, I will live this life that is being held out to me or no, I will not.... You can say no to your life, but you can rest assured that no angels will trouble you ever again." And then, Taylor takes a bold turn that calls for courage on our part. She says, “If we say yes to our lives, you can take part in a thrilling and dangerous scheme with no script and no guarantees. You can agree to smuggle God into the world inside your own body." ("Mothers of God," is in Gospel Medicine).
So, friends, I ask you, how are you bearing God in this world? When we say yes, we become transformed, we are forever changed, and the world becomes transformed as we continue to give birth to the very life of Christ among us. When we say yes, we become a part of this movement that is the birthing of the growing Universal Christ in this world. And, the coming of Christ always brings forth a love, a peace and justice that transform the very world around us. You see, the love, peace and justice which come from God to transform the world, then work through us as we collectively act and live it in this world.
So, as we come to the end of this season of Advent, naming our longing for God to break in to what is and bring forth salvation, as we live in that transitional space that holds the past and the future in tension, we do this knowing that Christ is breaking in and Christ will continue to break in to the deep brokenness of this world. As we move through this week and again experience the coming of the Christ child, we know this birth means it is time for us to give birth to the Universal Christ. And, then it is time for the work of Christmas to truly begin, the “work of Christmas” Howard Thurman writes about when he says:
When the song of the angels is stilled,
when the star in the sky is gone,
when the kings and princes are home,
when the shepherds are back with their flocks,
the work of Christmas begins:
to find the lost,
to heal the broken,
to feed the hungry,
to release the prisoner,
to rebuild the nations,
to bring peace among the people,
to make music in the heart.
Walter Brueggemann, one of my favorite theologians, when reflecting on this time in the church year, writes the following, “Advent does not begin in buoyancy or celebration or in a shopping spree. The natural habitat of Advent is a community of hurt. It is the voice of those who know profound grief, who articulate it and do not cover it over.”
Yes, that is our habitat as we experience Advent, especially this year, and I have been deeply feeling the hurt, the pain, and the grief. Ours are voices of those who know profound grief. We are in a very dark place at the present time and it is imperative that we articulate the pain and grief and not cover it over. It is also imperative that we listen to those who speak truth as we experience this grief. We are living in a culture in which “truth decay” (a term recently coined by President Obama) seems to permeate every facet of our life, and it is critical in this dark time that we listen to those who witness to the truth, not those who spew forth toxic conspiracy theories, lies and misinformation. Right now, in the depth of our pain, it is vital that we listen to the scientists and medical professionals because they are the ones who point to the truth and point us to what we need to do to eventually reach the light at the end of this very dark tunnel. They are the ones who testify to the truth, a truth to which we must listen because that truth to which they testify is ultimately life-giving during this dark time.
I say this because, when looking at today’s gospel reading, at the time when John appeared on the scene, the people were hurting and facing much suffering. And, this character, John, enters the scene as one who comes bearing witness to the truth. In today’s reading, we meet John, the first human mentioned in the Gospel of John. This lone character, John, is the star of today’s show and he is a man sent from God. It is important to note that he is not identified as John the Baptist as we find in Matthew’s gospel. He is not identified as John the baptizer as in Mark. And, he is not identified as John the son of Zechariah as in Luke. He is simply identified as John. He is John the Witness. While he is described as doing some general baptizing here and there, a careful read of this gospel writer’s story of Jesus' baptism reveals that John does not even baptize Jesus. His primary role is not as one who baptizes but one who testifies to the light coming into the world. In John’s gospel, this John character is a very human witness to a cosmic event. You see, God is about the business of ordering a new creation, a new presence of light in the world, but this effort necessitates a fellow human to point to the presence of this light. Otherwise, human as we are, we might not see it. So, that human is John.
Smack dab in the middle of the out of this world, beyond time and space beginnings of this fourth gospel, interrupting the unfolding of a truly cosmic birth story, John appears, testifying to the light. Well, his testimony brings on all kinds of questions. So down from the capital come the interrogators, and the result is a fierce press conference. “Who do you think you are?” “Do you think you’re the messiah?” “Are you representing yourself as Elijah?” “Why are you baptizing like this?” “What do you say about yourself?” The questions ricochet like rifle shots bouncing off walls. The aim of these questioners is to reveal some damaging information, some falsehood, to show that this threatening figure of John is just a cracked and broken cistern like the rest of humanity. After all, just maybe he does think he is Elijah incarnate, or worse, fancies himself the actual messiah and comes seeking fame and glory. If so, you can be certain John’s message will be tried, twisted, and tested like the message of a politician on the campaign trail. He will likely be dubbed a damaged and flawed human being, full of worldly ambition and self-delusion.
But John’s answer is quite surprising. “It’s not about me,” he replies. “I’m pointing beyond myself to one who comes after me, to the Lamb of God. My whole life has now become a gesture to what God is doing to shake the foundations of the status quo and re-create the world.” You see, because John has a holy vocation, not merely a human ambition, the fear of exposure before the glare of interrogation simply vanishes. He does not fear! He seems to say, “Find all the flaws you want and smoke out all the vanities you can find. The meaning of my life is not in what you think about me, but how you respond to the one to whom my life points.”
John identifies himself in, with, and by his relationship to the light, to the One who is coming, to the One known as Jesus, to the One who is shaking the status quo and recreating the world. And, whereas the One who is coming, this One who is recreating the world, defines himself as "I AM," John is clear to say, "I am not." He is not the Messiah, Elijah, or the Prophet. He is not the light that shines in the darkness. Yet, even in his resolute claims about who he is not, who he is and why he is here is defined by and inseparable from the presence of the Word made flesh in his midst. He knows nothing but to articulate his identity and live out that identity in connection to Jesus' identity. John’s sole vocation in this fourth gospel is to bear witness to the Word made flesh, to bear witness to the light. In fact, in this gospel, John is the lead witness on Jesus’ behalf.
It is fascinating to note that the verb “witness” is used thirty-three times in the gospel of John but only twice in the entirety of the other three gospels. John’s role in this gospel is to recognize the true light when it appears and to testify to that light. John does not fear as he stakes his very life on his call to testify to the light so that others may recognize it and believe – that is, recognize, trust in, and commit themselves to the light. John truly understands his role and who he is. He is not the Messiah. That job has already been filled. He simply lives his life pointing to the Messiah.
Like the man whose name was John, the church, and that means each one of us, is sent into today's world as a witness. And, when we look at today’s reading and John’s witness, we find we may characterize this witness as public, certain, and humble. These qualities are most certainly in tension with the spirit of our age. Most people today regard religion as a private matter. Most people want to keep their personal beliefs quiet, staying safe and cocooned in their comfortable and all too often misinformed bubble, not getting their hands dirty because any other way of living is too risky. Furthermore, certainty and truth are also shunned in these postmodern times. Yes, “truth decay” permeates our culture and we are all victims of our own perspectives and the bubbles in which we live. Truth has become so relative – who can ever know for sure whether anything is true or not? In fact, a focus on truth is something that seems harder and harder to find. Still, we who claim to follow Jesus are audacious enough to believe that the gospel is true, and that it must be lived out in our daily lives and proclaimed boldly – publicly and confidently, without fear. The trick is to bear witness to this truth with humility. For John, and for each of us, that means directing people away from self and toward Jesus.
In this Advent season, our reading on this Sunday calls us to trust God’s living Word to us in the person of Jesus Christ, and to live out our faith by trusting in and pointing to the One who is greater than ourselves. As we do that in this present time, we acknowledge our pain and the fact that we presently live in a world where, as Walter Brueggemann says, “the kingdom of death is surging – in the virus, in the failed economy that breeds starvation for many, in our ready embrace of brutality, [in the hatred and racism that plagues our culture], and in the surge of anti-neighborly, fearful greed. This is the truth that is right in front of us. It is not however, the whole truth. It is not the truth entrusted to us. The truth entrusted to us is that there is a ‘coming one,’ [the One to whom we point] who in actual bodily ways rescues from the power of death.” Come, Lord Jesus, come!
We all have certain things in life that provide us with a sense of comfort when we feel stressed out or feel we need a bit of solace. Food is one thing that probably provides a kind of comfort for all of us in one way or another. There are some comfort foods I simply love – like the brie and lobster grilled cheese sandwich on sourdough bread at River House in Williamston. I could relish eating that sandwich every single day. As I savor the flavors of the soft, warm brie and the tender pieces of delicious lobster meat, each luscious bite provides a feeling of wellbeing and comfort. Sitting downstairs in our family room with a fire burning in the fireplace on a cold snowy evening, while at the same time reading a book and having a glass of wine, is another experience that provides a stress relieving sense of comfort for me.
We are presently experiencing some very stress-filled, grief laden, anxiety producing days. And, as we look at Isaiah’s words to us on this day, they provide us with an experience of comfort that is truly gift as we hear, “Comfort, O comfort my people, says your God.” When I initially read these words, I felt them in a deep, even guttural way, as they touched my very soul. They are words I needed to hear. It was truly soothing to receive this word and experience a feeling of comfort that deeply touched my spirit, even to the point that I began to breath more deeply. Reading these words also made me very aware of the depth of my own discomfort and dis-ease and, quite likely, these words may also make you aware of the depth of your discomfort and dis-ease in this present time.
This first reading comes from second Isaiah when the prophet was speaking and writing to people who were living in exile in Babylon. In 586 BCE, the Jerusalem Temple had been destroyed, the people had been taken captive, then led away to exile in Babylon. Isaiah is speaking to people who have been living in exile. And, I have no doubt that part of their exile experience included living with abusive, harsh, weaponized, hurtful, and critical language. So, Isaiah’s tender words must have been like a healing balm for the people. You see, words really do matter. Words shape us and mold us, for better or worse! Words can be hurtful, damaging, and injurious, or they can be healing, life-giving and comforting.
This whole passage is a kind of embrace. It begins with words of comfort and ends with the image of a “mighty God.” However, the “mighty God” image is not that of a mighty warrior, not one of a returning hero, but rather the image of a caring, tender shepherd. Isaiah speaks of a shepherd feeding and leading his flock, gathering lambs, carrying them in his bosom, and gently leading the mother sheep.
I ask you, as we are honest about the dis-comfort and dis-ease we have been experiencing, what better image is there than that of a God who embraces you, takes you up and holds you close in God’s very arms, whispers in your ear that you are loved, and says, “It’s going to be ok!” This is an image of the very arms of God pulling her children close, pulling each one of you close! Yes, there is so much discomfort in our hearts these days, both individually and collectively. There is discomfort because of the abusive, harsh, hateful, weaponized rhetoric that has been hitting us like bullets for the past few years; discomfort because of this pandemic; discomfort, distress and grief because so many people are dying; discomfort and hardship because millions of people are out of work; discomfort and anguish because millions will likely be losing their homes; and, discomfort and suffering because millions of people are food insecure and that number is growing on a daily basis. So many voices, so many needs, so much pain, so much death, so much sickness – and sometimes you just need to be hugged! You don’t need too many words, just a presence, a touch. At a time when we are unable to be such a physical presence to one another because of this pandemic, these words today seem to provide that needed touch. They are a healing, life-giving hug from a loving God as God holds us and says, “Everything will be all right.” For each one of you who might need an embrace because everything seems just so challenging right now, I encourage you to take a moment and picture yourself being taken into God’s loving arms and held close to God’s bosom as God offers you words of comfort saying, “It’s going to be ok!” This God in whom we trust truly does comfort the afflicted.
As we look again at our reading from Isaiah, we discover there is more, something else that is very important for us to understand. In the middle of the passage between words of comfort and the tender image of being carried in the bosom of God, we are given things to do and things to be about. Yes, right in the middle of this passage we receive words that truly speak to my heart and my passions. Right in the middle of this lovely reading come words that, to me, are thrilling when we hear:
A voice cries out: In the wilderness prepare the way of the Lord, make straight in the desert a highway for our God. Every valley shall be lifted up, and every mountain and hill be made low: the uneven ground shall become level, and the rough places a plain. Then the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all people shall see it together.
Friends, you see, we are comforted and spoken tenderly to so that we can be about the business of comforting others! We are comforted so that we can be about the business of leveling the playing field and creating access for every beloved child of God who yearns to be safe, who yearns to make a living, who yearns to be educated, who yearns for a job, who yearns to provide food on the family table, who yearns and struggles with the dis-ease of economic blight, who yearns to just have enough but instead wakes up every day with the discomfort of poverty and dead ends and mountains too high to climb.
Inspiring, motivational speakers are always telling our young people, “Anything you want to become you can become, if you work hard enough.” Now, I am all for individual responsibility and hard work, and there are stories of remarkable triumphs out of the depth of despair and depravity – but, we have to be realistic and understand that, generally speaking, this kind of encouragement is patently false. It is false because, for far too many people in our culture and our world, the decks are stacked against them, the valleys are far too deep, the mountains are far too high, the ghettos are far too rough, and the playing field is so unevenly tipped towards those who have money, influence, connections, power, the right gender and race. This is true and the exceptions only prove the rule.
So, today, we hear Isaiah’s voice come to us resounding through the ages saying, “YOU – the so-called beloved community – you prepare the way of the Lord!” And it is of profound importance that you understand the arrangement of these verses. For only after the highway is made straight, and the valleys are lifted up, and the mountains are made low, and the uneven ground is leveled and the rough places are made a plain… only after the way is prepared will the glory of the Lord be revealed, and then the people will see! You see, when we have joined God in building the beloved community – the presence of the Lord will be self-evident to everyone!
Friends, as we wait for God’s coming, for the birth of the Christ child, we do not wait passively! We wait while actively participating in God’s living, creative, redeeming Word. Too often we passively wait instead of actively participate in God’s call to work for change in people’s lives and in our culture. Advent is a time to face our discomfort, to turn around and turn back to God and, as we wait, participate in the coming of God’s living, creative Word to the world. Friends, God works through us to change peoples’ lives, to change culture, and to make all things new. As we actively bear God’s creative and redeeming Word, we go to the places where people languish, we do the work of leveling the playing fields, sharing the abundance, and occupying the rough places with words and acts of hope, of equity, of fairness, of love, and of justice. And, as we prepare the way for the coming of our Lord, we point to not just the Christ child, but the universal risen Christ as we lift our voices, proclaiming good tidings of hope and comfort, saying, “Here is your God!”
Someone recently mentioned to me that it seems like our country has changed over the past years from one that wanted to be good to one that wants to feel good. I tend to agree. And, quite honestly, as we experience this horrific pandemic with thousands of people dying, the deep divisiveness among people, the acute pain and profound woundedness in our culture, I really do understand the desire to feel good, to long for a feel good sense of hope within ourselves. The truth is, we are a brokenhearted people, and the desire to feel hope is normal. I deeply feel that desire within myself. In fact, I will confess that is why I will sit and watch a Hallmark movie because there is always a happy ending that evokes a feel-good sense of hope. Yet, that feel good sense of hope is very short lived. Frankly, our culture is very good at offering all kinds of things and stuff that provide a short-lived, feel good hope. But such hope does not last because it is a false hope. Friends, far too often we try to stem our hurt by running away from our pain to selfishly focus on what makes us feel good. However, we cannot create the hope and peace we so desire by focusing on self. Real hope only comes by facing our pain and opening our hearts to God. And, real hope is what comes with a broken, vulnerable, open heart that is willing to be mended.
In today’s Old Testament reading, Isaiah is speaking to people who have returned to Jerusalem following political exile in Babylon. They, too, desired hope and they did not sense God’s presence to them. We hear the prophet Isaiah waiting and calling out for God to break into the peoples’ lives. Isaiah calls the people to repent, to turn back to God, and he laments and prays to God saying, “No eye has seen any God besides you who works for those who wait.” Isaiah pleads that God would tear open the heavens and break into the lives of the people to bring hope, peace, and a restored life.
As we begin Advent, we begin a time of waiting. Like Isaiah, we wait and we, too, pray that God breaks into our lives, bringing the promise of hope, peace, and restored life. However, Advent waiting is not a form of passive waiting and watching. It is a time to allow ourselves to turn back to God, to become vulnerable, to open up our lives, our hearts, and our souls with active anticipation as we trust God’s promises to us. It is a time to live with our hearts broken open so that compassion, caring and God’s reckless love can find a way to break into our hearts and the heart of the world.
As we look at today’s gospel reading from Mark, we are given words that ultimately address the brokenness of our hearts. Initially, the 13th chapter of the gospel of Mark is frightening and chilling to read. And, while it has sometimes been interpreted as a prediction of the future to frighten future generations, we must look at the historical context and think about what was happening when it was written. These words are NOT a prediction about the future. It is true, the people were waiting for Jesus to return. However, this writing from Mark follows a long tradition of apocalyptic literature and it is all about providing comforting words to people as they faced their present life and present experience. Written around 70 CE, Mark is writing to a community of people who were facing horrific situations. Christians were being dragged before local authorities, sometimes by members of their own family. War was on the horizon and, in fact, already happening as they experienced the Jewish Revolt of 66-70 CE, a war that brought the destruction of the Temple in Jerusalem. For these early Christians, it felt as if the world had ended, and in some very real ways, it had ended.
You see, when people are experiencing fear and going through great pain, you’ve got to acknowledge that pain, that grief, and not bury it or cover it up by simply saying, “Don’t panic, everything will be ok.” As the people wait for Jesus to return, Mark tells them to acknowledge the pain and challenge, but trust God’s promise, stay awake, be alert and be ready for God to break in. When discussing this passage in scripture, theologian, Sarah Dylan, writes that Jesus is addressing the disciples and each one of us by saying:
Yes, there is serious pain in the world, in your community. There are wars and rumors of wars. There's strife within families, and even within the family of faith, those called to be one in Christ……So, when you see these horrible things happening, don't think it's a sign that the kingdom of God Jesus promised is late in coming or has been derailed. We don't know the day or hour, but we know that God is faithful, and Jesus' resurrection from the dead is a sign to us as it was to Mary Magdalene, Simon Peter and our own wounded communities: Jesus is coming, and God's kingdom, inaugurated with Jesus' ministry, is being revealed and finding fulfillment.
Friends, this word from Mark’s gospel is Good News for us. Yes, there is serious pain in our world. Yet, as we again wait for the coming of the Christ child, we know something that many don't seem to realize: the person we call Lord is none other than Jesus of Nazareth, who has already come. This Jesus taught and healed, he welcomed the outcast and broke bread with anyone willing to eat with him. It is Jesus, whose way of life and manner of death underscored what his words taught. His life and words were all about love, love for God and all others. He truly lived this every day of his life and we are also called to live it every day of our lives. When we know Jesus, the Jesus of the gospels, we know that God is love, and love drives out all fear, whatever our present circumstances.
The writer of Mark’s gospel is not pointing us to a future apocalyptic event, but rather a very present one in which Christ’s death and resurrection change absolutely everything we know. For once and for all, in Christ’s death and resurrection, Jesus suffers all that the world and empire and death have to throw at him…and is raised to new life and nothing will ever be the same again! And, that includes our present lives and even our present painful situations.
So, get ready! Jesus is here and Jesus is coming! Do not be afraid! Stay awake and be alert! God comes to us now and is still entering into our lives in ways that align with God’s coming in the vulnerability of a baby in a manger and a man dying on a cross. God comes to us now as we embrace all those we and the world consider “other.” God comes to us now as we collect food for the hungry. God comes to us now as we work to offer a hope and future to the guys who are living in our Parish House. God comes to us now as we collect food and goodies for the hospital staff who are caring for Covid-19 patients. God comes to us now as Caring Committee participants check on other members of the congregation. God comes to us now as doctors and nurses lovingly care for our loved ones who are sick. God comes to us now as we walk with relatives of those who are sick or dying. God comes to us now as we see friends and relatives become healed after having this virus. God comes to us now, even as we are only able to gather online for worship. God comes to us now, as we are, in our vulnerability, in our messed-up family lives, in our deep brokenness, in the pain of this pandemic, in our imperfections, telling us we are deeply loved as we are. God is already present, but God’s reign is not yet fully here. And, this is what gives us true hope, a hope that is not just a feel good hope, but real hope, a hope that endures even the pain of life.
In the person of Jesus, God is pulling back the curtain of false hopes and the many things in which we unwisely place our trust, to reveal a very present reality, the reality of God’s commitment to enter into and redeem our lives and world just as they are. And, this is what gives us real hope, a hope that endures and a hope that lasts, even in the depth of this pandemic. Yes, life is messy, there is much pain, and there is so much that is not right in this world. But, newness and hope are on the way, a hope we can trust. So, as we go through Advent, stay awake, and be aware of the many ways Christ appears in the present! God is always breaking in through time and space to be present in our lives and the lives of others. Christ is arriving now, in this present moment, meeting us in our pain just as we are, right before our very eyes. And, God breaks in bringing true hope, a hope that lasts and endures.
Today, we come to the end of the church year calendar and the end of our year-long focus on Matthew’s version of the Jesus story. And, as we read today’s gospel passage, we get high drama, harsh judgment, words of punishment, and words of damnation in eternal fire! So, as one who stands before you to proclaim the gospel, it is hard to read these words and then say, “The Good News of the Lord!” That just seems to go against the grain, especially for those of us who believe so fully and completely in a gracious God of love. It is hard to picture a gracious, loving God in this passage. Yet, if we dig a bit deeper, I think we discover today’s gospel reading is not so much about punishment in eternal fire, and it’s not the goats or the sheep that matter in this story; it is all about how we come face to face with God every day, a very loving and gracious God!
I know most of us go to the doctor at least once a year and, when we make that yearly visit, we experience a wellness check. This year, at my wellness check, I was told that my cholesterol and blood pressure were both too high. So, my doctor told me what I needed to do to address the problem. And, following his advice, I began a daily exercise plan, I watch my diet more closely, and now take some medication to help address the issues. I say this because I believe that in today’s gospel reading, Jesus uses the language of the prophets to present a kind of wellness check for all of us, for each of us individually and for the nations as well. Remember, just a few weeks ago, Jesus told us that the greatest commandment is to love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind, and to love your neighbor as yourself. Well, today, as Jesus is facing his death, he who is often called the great physician, presents us with a kind of wellness check. In the story Jesus shares today, we discover the great physician, the Christ, is present in every person we meet, especially the most vulnerable. And, the great physician is really asking us and the nations to do a wellness check by looking at ourselves and asking, “How are we doing regarding what God desires from us and what Jesus has taught us? How we are living into the greatest commandment of which he spoke?”
Now, to better understand this parable and Christ’s presence to us in everyone we meet, one theologian also suggests we consider another contemporary metaphor – the reality TV show called Undercover Boss. I am sure many of you have seen that show in which the boss, the CEO, goes undercover to see how things are going with the workers. Now, while this metaphor is not perfect, there are some connections we can make to the gospel message for this Christ the King Sunday. “When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, then he will sit on the throne of his glory. All the nations will be gathered before him.” When he does this, he reveals that he, the Great Physician CEO, has been undercover among the people for some time, observing them at work, and it is time for the big reveal!
So, as we look at ourselves and our nation and do a wellness check, I wonder how Jesus, the Great Physician CEO, would judge his corporation right now. And yes, I use the word corporation, a word that comes from the same Latin root as corpus meaning body, as in the body of Christ. How is the corporation, the body, doing in this present world? How well do we as the community of Christ understand the corporation’s vision statement? “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of God; blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy.” How well do we live and function by the company’s creed? “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind… and love your neighbor as yourself.” How clear are we about the guidelines for promotion? “All who exalt themselves will be humbled, and all who humble themselves will be exalted.” Are we fulfilling the CEO’s mission? “Go, therefore, and make disciples.” Just maybe, we need to think about these things and do an intense wellness check on how we are doing.
And, what about the CEO’s priorities – priorities that always focus on welcoming the outsiders, the least of these, the most vulnerable among us; priorities that always, always reflect a politics of compassion and abundance? “I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me.” How is our wellness check going regarding these priorities? How is our nation’s wellness check going regarding these priorities?
I must confess that for most of my life I read this parable in Matthew as a word of judgment saying, “If you blow it, you will be demoted to the realm of the goats and therefore burn in hell!” Now, while personal responsibility and consequences are part of this passage, the real question presented to us is one that asks about the mission of Christ’s body – the corpus or body of Christ, the church, the faith community – and whether that mission is being accomplished. How well are each of us living into that mission? How is that wellness check going?
Again, the undercover boss metaphor is not perfect. However, when looking at this parable, the point is that Jesus introduces something new. Jesus’ words reflect the words of the prophets, but he adds something new by saying that when we meet the one in need, we meet divinity, we meet Christ. When we welcome others, care for the sick, clothe and feed those in need, something more than a cup of water or a piece of bread changes hands: “As you did it to the least of these, you did it to me.” We find that when we give the cup, share the bread, and share what we have with those in need, we encounter the very presence of God in that person in need. We see God, we see the face of the risen Christ!
So, what about that wellness check? How are we doing? If we cannot share freely and fully or if we do not make ourselves available to do so, this indicates that our relationship with God and the world is not as healthy and whole as Jesus’ triumph on the cross makes possible. Loving those for whom Jesus gave his life, particularly those who are undervalued and vulnerable is a primary expression of our love of God and of our experience of God’s love for us.
As members of Christ’s body, we are called to respond to the needy, the hurting, and to welcome the stranger and the outsider, not only in the same way that Jesus did, but also as Jesus welcomes us. When we see this present world in pain, when so many people in our very own communities are sick and suffering from this horrible virus, we are called not to focus on our presumed individual rights, but on the common good and do what is necessary for the health, care and safety of our neighbor! We are called to wear masks! So, just how is that wellness check going in our present culture? And, when our present leaders do nothing but perpetually lie, promulgate conspiracy theories, seek vengeance and act cruelly, and then those lies, the vengeance and the cruelty spread like a malignant cancer, how is that wellness check going for our nation? When eight million people in our country have slipped into poverty this year, when one in five children in our country are food insecure, when thousands are dying, when millions are losing their unemployment, and millions are about to be evicted from their homes, how is that wellness check going for our nation? Remember Jesus’ words today when he says, “Whatsoever you do to the least of these, you do it unto me.”
Friends, when we actively live God’s radical hospitality, love, and care for our neighbor and all others, we are responding to the risen Christ. We respond to the Great Physician, the One who himself became totally vulnerable, entering the deepest need and pain of the world – even to the point of hanging on a cross, for the sake of all creation and all people. And, guess what! Such radical hospitality, care, and love reconstruct the social order! When we follow the One whose glory was revealed in the cross, we are transformed and we, ourselves, live into the healing love of the Great Physician. And, the God who became needy and vulnerable for the sake of the world uses us, to carry God’s healing, transforming love wherever we go, for the sake of a broken and hurting world.
I think I’ve shared before that during my first semester of seminary I had an introductory assignment where I openly stated that when I read the Bible my first assumption is that it will oppress me. I’m thankful (and you probably are now too) that I’ve experienced much growth throughout the past three years and have come to reverse my expectation of scripture. Today when I read the Bible my first assumption is that it will set me free! I’ve come to recognize a narrative throughout scripture of God who is for people, especially those people who don’t seem like they’re winning. I witness God who falls in love with humankind so completely that God never gives up on us, keeps choosing us, loving us, time and time again.
Because of this change in perspective I’m particularly challenged by encountering these readings today and they are forcing me to exercise the new muscles I’ve been building at Luther Seminary. These readings are challenging me as I find myself wrestling with contradiction today, wondering which of my assumptions of the Bible is true as I struggle to hold on to my new understanding of the narrative of a loving God. Overwhelmingly the lesson in Matthew’s gospel today has been preached as a renewal of Christian action and participation through responsible and obligatory use of the gifts we’ve been given by God. I’m not on board. Amidst this wrestling I admit that I’m weary of the meritocracy that is perpetuated by capitalistic societies like the Roman Empire and the United States of America. I’m weary of the Pharaohs that insist that we “make more bricks” in servitude to the empire. I’m weary of theologians who preach that we double down, work harder and give more in the name of God. At the beginning of this chapter in Matthew, Jesus says “The kindom of heaven will be like this.” and then shares this parable. I cannot accept that the kindom of God is like a ruthless and wealthy CEO with a golden parachute who requires his employees to play his game of monopoly. In his game he takes all of their winnings and downsizes the company so that the remaining employees are “rewarded” with more work and participation in the joy of perpetuating his game of exploitation. No. Not God.
It’s important to recognize before I go any further that the “talent” spoken about in the gospel is not what we write about on our yearly stewardship forms about time, talent and treasure. A “talent” was cold hard cash, actually an enormous amount of cash, you could say it was a life savings, worth more than fifteen years of wages! The US Census bureau reports that the median household income in 2019 was around $68,000, so a modern-day talent would be over a million dollars. Using today’s income data, the master in this story gives one slave $5 million dollars, another $2 million dollars, and another $1 million and went away… for a very long time. Two of the slaves play the game, somehow managing to double these multiplied life savings and return $10 million dollars and $4 million dollars to the master. I wonder how they did this? There were no stock market investments or lottery pay-outs two thousand years ago where one had even the slim possibility of such an incredible return on investment. I wonder, considering this astounding wealth-building, if the exploited had already become the exploiters when the master returned.
Anyway, the third guy, I’ll call him the million dollar servant, he didn’t increase the master’s wealth. He buried it, and gave it right back when the master returned. When he was questioned by the master on his apparent irresponsible handling of this money he says, “Master, I knew that you were a harsh man, reaping where you did not sow, and gathering where you did not scatter seed”... and the master became enraged. “You knew, did you?!” You knew that I was exploiting everyone I came across, you were onto my game? Well if you knew how ruthless I am then you should have been at least wise enough to gain me some interest. In effect, the million dollar servant was told to make more bricks, told he isn’t good enough, told he should have worked harder. Ending his fit of rage, the master orders the million dollar servant to be “thrown into outer darkness where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth”. <breathe>
This harsh message from Matthew is juxtaposed against Paul’s letter to Thessalonica, a capital city of a Roman province that was immersed in commercial prosperity and sure to be enmeshed in the ways of the Roman Empire. Paul writes to a new Christian community, one that is facing opposition from both the Roman Empire and the local Jewish community.
Paul encourages them: “Let us put on the breastplate of faith and love, and for a helmet the hope of salvation. For God has destined us not for wrath but for obtaining salvation through our Lord Jesus Christ, who died for us, so that whether we are awake or asleep we may live with him.”
This is the first written book of the new testament, the first words encouraging the first Christian community, and they do not instruct us to be more productive or to try harder. They denounce a harsh and wrathful God. They assure us of the free gift of God’s love and salvation, whether we’re awake or asleep, through Christ. These words proclaim God’s love for these people who were not winning under the oppression of the Roman Empire and instruct them that no matter what... awake or asleep… God’s gift is theirs.
Reconsidering today’s gospel reading as I put on the breastplate of faith and love with a helmet of hope I begin to wonder: What was the million dollar servant doing for all of those years that his time was not justified through income? I wonder: what if we lived like salvation really is not fused with status, power and work? What if God is not the master in this story? What if this master is of the empire, and not of God, as he insists that the million dollar servant did not work hard enough and threatens him into collusion with his evil ways? What if the “wicked and lazy slave” is actually the hero of the story, actually the faithful servant of God, who resists the evil ways of the empire and buries his million dollars. What if this faithful servant of God purposefully refuses to participate in systems of power with only one winner? What if the empire becomes enraged by his resistance, realizes he knew all along about the unjust game and decides to shut him up. The empire decides to not only shut him up but to also make him into a lesson for all others. What if the empire makes a big show of this lesson and marches him through the city all the way to Golgotha, where he is crucified by the empire for the threat of his disobedience with weeping and gnashing of teeth? <breathe>
What if the empire cannot silence the resistance of the million dollar servant because he is the Christ and Christ lives on within us...in you and me and all of us together? What if we have the courage to become like this wicked and lazy slave, as we refuse to participate in the game of the empire and instead build the kindom of God? Because in the kindom of God there’s no such thing as you’re not enough. The kindom of God subverts the empire’s messages that you aren’t white enough, black enough, young enough, old enough, man enough, smart enough, fast enough, rich enough, legal enough… with you are enough, God’s beloved. God calls you. What if this lesson backfires on the empire and the people of Christ rise up, united in all of their diverse beauty, unafraid, wearing a fierce breastplate of faith and love with a helmet of hope?
This is the message of good news I hear today. This is the work I invite you to participate in, wherever your feet meet the ground, rise up. The empire is disguised as a desirable partnership, a joint venture where you are promised to enter into the joy of your master. It is a lie. We, the people of the resurrection, the people of Christ, must resist! We step forward from today as we cling to our breastplate of faith and love, knowing we are protected and encouraged by our helmet of hope, and we walk together toward love, mercy and justice as heirs in Christ. Amen.
This past week has been a hard one for all of us. Throughout the week, I have been grieving the brokenness in our world, and I continue to grieve the deep brokenness in our country, our community, and our very lives. As I grieve, I remember Dr. King’s words when he said, “The arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends toward justice.” Friends, I so deeply long for God’s justice and righteousness to become a reality in this world, and I have been finding it hard to wait. Longing, working, and waiting for God’s justice for all people is becoming excruciatingly painful and I ask, “What shall we do as we wait?”
As we listen to the prophet Amos this morning, it seems he lives in a world that is broken. The people of Israel are calling out for the Day of the Lord, a day of victory for them against whatever enemies they can conjure up. However, when we look at the historical record and cultural context of that time, there was no war, no famine, no invasion, and a competent king was on the throne. Religious rituals were being carefully observed, but they were rituals without meaningful action in the world, empty rituals without changed hearts that produce justice in the world. Anyway, Amos is a prophet and, as prophets do, he sees under the surface, under the present context and current state of the world, to see the true reality. Nothing is broken in Amos’ world, and yet everything is broken! God does NOT want the people’s empty platitudes and empty rituals. God DOES want to see justice and righteousness lived out by the people! Amos reminds us that living out God’s restorative justice and righteousness for ALL people are essential elements of a faithful life. This is what God desires.
The people to whom Paul was writing were also waiting, waiting for Jesus’ return. So, Paul writes words of encouragement and hope. His mystical vision of being caught up in the clouds when Jesus comes again is NOT intended as a prophecy about factual details in some distant future; it is NOT meant to be taken literally! It IS intended as pastoral encouragement. Paul is painting this vivid picture of the restoration of the faith community, together with Jesus, as a source of hope, so that the church can live out their faith. The point of this passage is NOT about what is coming, it IS all about how the hope of what is coming changes how we live during the waiting! Notice that today’s reading starts with the call to “hope” and ends with the call to “encourage one another.” This is because what we hope for is supposed to change how we live now… specifically how we live in community, which is the concern of the Thessalonian church. We can treat each other now with the love and mutual care that we know will characterize our future in Christ. This is because we have the encouragement of what Jesus has promised us, and so we don’t have to wait to start living by Kingdom rules….
That is also the basic message we receive today in our gospel reading from Matthew. In the story Jesus tells, the groom does not show up on time. Several hours pass and many in the wedding party fall asleep. Then, at midnight, they are awakened as someone loudly shouts out, “He’s coming.” Well, the ten bridesmaids wake up to get moving and ready. They trim their lamps and head out to meet the groom. However, five of the bridesmaids have used up their oil, having none left. And, as they attempt to borrow from the other wiser bridesmaids, their request is rejected. They frantically begin searching for oil and miss out on the bridal procession. Then, when they finally get to the groom’s home, they are locked out and turned away. Jesus ends this story by saying, “Keep awake! You do not know the day nor the hour.”
The writer of Matthew’s gospel is asking this question, “What shall we do while we wait for Jesus to return?” The early Christian community to which Matthew is writing had to constantly adjust to the reality that Jesus did not soon return as expected. By the time Matthew wrote this gospel, the discipleship community may have been waiting over fifty years for Jesus’ return. Most of the eyewitnesses of Jesus’ life, death and resurrection were likely dead. The church was facing persecution. The Temple had been destroyed. Where was Jesus? This story tells the people they are to wait expectantly and, in the meantime, live faithfully, live courageously, live with hope, and stay awake and aware. The point of this whole parable is its call to live expectantly, hopefully, and aware.
Now, as we hear this parable, our context is very different, yet living and waiting faithfully, courageously, and hopefully is still our mission. Our call is to stay awake and be aware of God’s presence as God comes to us. As Christians, our hope rests completely on our trust that the God who created the world continues to love this world and continues the process of creation until the project is complete. Our hope rests in the promise that God will continue to redeem and save the world by coming into it with love and grace, in the person of Jesus Christ.
As I say this, I am very aware of the despair, chaos, and grief we have been experiencing. We have seen natural disasters like hurricanes and wildfires, we have also seen the horrors of racism as it permeates every system and structure, we have seen heart wrenching injustice imposed on people who simply seek asylum from oppressive regimes, we continue to experience growing and immeasurable suffering from this pandemic, we are seeing callous cruelty toward neighbor and utter disregard for the common good. There are times in human history when the forces of oppression, injustice, violence, hatred, greed, and cruelty make justice, compassion and love seem so very fragile. Our present experience is such a time. And, in the face of such horror, our hearts scream out the unanswerable questions, “Why, God, why?” and “Where is God?” But, like those early Christians, in these chaotic times we are called to wait, to live in hope and to stay awake and aware. You see, living in the hope that we are given in Christ does not mean we are immune to the harsh realities of history. It does mean that we live confidently and expectantly, trusting that the Lord of history continues to break into our lives with compassion, justice, redemption and, yes, hope. And, it means staying awake and aware so we can see how God is very present to us in each moment.
To become aware of God’s presence in our lives, we must accept what is often difficult. In fact, there are times when human culture seems to function in a mass hypnotic trance and we do not always see under the present circumstances to envision what is truly real, the reality of God’s grace and presence to us. We human beings do not naturally see this; we must be taught how to see. And, this happens as we live together in Christian community, as we participate in the work of the faith community by seeking justice and peace for all people, as we courageously gather even though that gathering is online, as we weekly receive God’s living Word, and as we are fed by the very life of God. As we wait, even in times of chaos, heartache and pain, these are the things that enable us to stay awake and aware as God is always present to us and as God’s kingdom is always coming, breaking into history and breaking into our lives.
The good news in the midst of all of life’s challenges and our present pain is this: the bridegroom will come, the bridegroom is always coming, and the love of God will continue to appear in our lives in surprising and unexpected ways! You see, Jesus Christ comes when Christian people live in hope and never give up. Jesus Christ comes when faithful disciples express love and compassion and work for justice, even in the face of violence and fear. Jesus Christ comes when we see God’s presence in people who are different from us, in ALL OTHERS, when we see ALL others as people created in God’s image who are dearly beloved children of God. Jesus Christ comes when those who suffer know they are ultimately safe in God’s love. Jesus Christ comes, and the kingdom breaks into earth and into our lives when faithful people live in hope, not fear, and give themselves to the work of God’s kingdom and God’s reign.
So, keep your lamps trimmed and burning! Wait with hope and stay awake! The bridegroom is on the way and, in fact, is already among us.
I love the gospel of Matthew. Matthew was written to communicate the Jesus story to early Jewish Christians and, let me tell you, the writer of this gospel really knew how to tell a story! Beginning with Chapter one, verse one, we hear Jesus called “The Messiah.” The writer of Matthew begins by setting us up for something amazing, something big, something life changing and something surprising by naming Jesus as the Messiah. At that point in time, there had been great expectation among Jewish people that a messiah would soon arrive. However, the people expected a messiah who would use military might and power to free them from Roman oppression. So, Matthew’s version of the Jesus story begins by latching on to that expectation and announcing Jesus as the long promised, awaited Messiah. The writer of Matthew continues to build on that expectation by linking Jesus’ genealogy to royalty as King David is named an ancestor of Jesus. The story even includes royal sages from the East who come to pay homage to this newborn Messiah. Then, the knowledge of a newborn king is so threatening to the present Jewish king, King Herod, that Herod has all the infants he can locate massacred. The presence of this newborn king Jesus is so compelling that even powerful Herod fears him.
If that is not enough, the writer of Matthew then tells us about a mighty prophet who enters the scene, John the Baptist. John arrives wearing strange clothing, living in the wilderness, and eating bugs, while shouting out and calling people to repent. This wild prophet begins announcing that One who is even more powerful than he is coming, One who “will be powerful enough to bring justice on the wicked and set things right.” (Feasting on the Word, p. 239.) John shouts out, “Turn around – if your life journey is going down the wrong road, turn around and go the other way! Start going down the right road!” And, this announcement sets the tone for Matthew’s entire Jesus story.
Well, the stage has been set and excitement levels have been raised. We can almost hear the trumpets blaring as they announce the coming of this new powerful leader. The day has finally come. This is the day the new leader people have been hearing about is going to make his first major public appearance and they expect something big. People’s excitement levels are shooting off the charts as they sit down on the mountainside and strain their ears to hear what this new, powerful leader is going to say.
Anticipation rises even more as this new leader climbs up the mountain, just like Moses and David and Elijah, those great leaders from the past. And then, when this new leader finally speaks and gives his inaugural address, the people are not only surprised, they are also astounded. They are totally taken aback when they do not hear anything about using power to take charge of their present situation. As a matter of fact, what this Messiah is saying has nothing to do with rescuing them from Roman oppression. As he begins to speak, he says, “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted. Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.” He goes on with a whole series of blessings and then says, “Blessed are you when people revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven…..”
What?? Rejoice and be glad when you are persecuted? This was definitely not what they had been looking for or hoped for. No. Not only are his words something they did not expect, Jesus also begins his message by saying, “Blessed.” Now, the Jewish people really knew their Hebrew scripture and they knew the Psalms. They knew that the great Law Psalm, Psalm 1, begins with exactly the same word, blessed. You see, Psalm 1 begins like this, “Blessed is the one who walks not in the way of the wicked but in the way of the Lord.” And, ashar, the Hebrew word for blessed, really means something like “You are on the right road.” So, what Jesus is actually saying is, “You are on the right road when you are poor in spirit, for yours is the kingdom of heaven. You are on the right road when you mourn, for you will be comforted.”
Now, do you begin to understand how astonishing and surprising these words of Jesus were to people 2,000 years ago? This was absolutely NOT what people expected to hear. And, you want to know something else? These words are not what we expect to hear either. You see, we live in a world and culture where the Beatitudes we hear seduce us into believing:
Oh yes, the list goes on and on and on…..
Well, today, Jesus gives us life-giving words that do not fit into the you are on the right road boxes we have created! Today, Jesus is calling his disciples, including each one of us, to walk a very different road. He is calling us to walk the road that is the way of his will for our lives and for this world. And, that road looks very different from the road we hear about day in and day out in our culture. In fact, Jesus is describing a road that is totally countercultural!! It is the road he travels, the way of the cross.
Jesus is calling us to walk the road he initiates, to walk the road that draws us into the very life of God, the road that leads us into the world that is truly real, the road where we will find the deepest and truest meaning in life, the road where we will find life that truly matters! Jesus is saying:
Jesus’ words to us today are not just empty platitudes and promises about something that will happen at some point in the future. No. As Jesus speaks, his words to the people on that mountain and to each one of us announce a whole NEW world. His words announce a whole new world that is breaking in upon us, a world that he is inaugurating, and a world he brings to us. His words are all about the very real world of God, the very real world that becomes flesh and blood through our Lord Jesus Christ.
Jesus calls and invites us to walk with him on the road he is walking, the road of God’s restorative justice for all people, the road of love and care for all our neighbors – all we consider “other” – the road that is truly a road of love. This is the road where we will find the deepest, truest meaning in life. This is the message the writer of Matthew’s gospel wanted to tell, because the truest gospel in this Sermon on the Mount is Jesus, the One who gives the sermon, the inaugural address: he is the sermon made flesh. (Feasting on the Word, p. 240) Blessed are you if you are on that road!
This is a special musical presentation of a Flute solo of Great is the Lord by Gwynne Kadrofske at Faith Lutheran Church in Okemos, Michigan.
For those of you familiar with William Shakespeare’s work, you will remember that one line from his play The Tempest is “Misery acquaints a man with strange bedfellows.” Over time, that line has morphed into the phrase, “Politics makes strange bedfellows.” Now, quite honestly, politics making strange bedfellows is by no means a recent development. This has probably happened throughout the history of humanity. And, we find that is exactly what is happening in today’s gospel reading as the Pharisees and Herodians team up to trick and trap Jesus.
For the past few weeks, we have been journeying with Jesus through the last week of his life, a week that has been intense to say the least. Just a few days before today’s confrontation, Jesus had entered Jerusalem where he was greeted by throngs of people shouting, “Hosanna to the Son of David!” Then there was that incident where he overthrew the tables of the Temple moneychangers. Jesus has spent the week challenging both the political and religious powers that be. He has been doggedly confronted by the religious leaders who are questioning the authority behind his actions. And, he has called into question the religious leaders’ authority by telling illuminating, confrontational parables. So, today, we discover the Herodians and the Pharisees team up to trap the itinerant, rabblerousing, peasant rabbi known as Jesus.
To better understand what is happening in this story, we need a little bit of background information. Jews in first century Palestine paid a lot of taxes. There was a temple tax; there were also land taxes, customs taxes, and trade taxes to name just a few more. The tax mentioned in today’s reading was yet an additional tax, one particularly despised by the Jews - it was called the Imperial Tax. This tax was required as a tribute to Rome to support the Roman Empire's occupation of Israel. Think of that for a moment - first century Jews were required to pay their oppressors a yearly tax to support their own oppression!
It is also helpful to better understand these two groups of people – the Herodians and the Pharisees. The Herodians, on the one hand, saw themselves as having power derived from Rome. As their name suggests, they were a family political party related to and allied with Herod Antipas, the local puppet ruler supported by the Romans. They were local sympathizers with the Roman rulers and, not surprisingly, the Herodians supported paying tax to Caesar because they benefited from it. The Pharisees, on the other hand, were also a political party, as well as religious scholars. They were committed to every detail of Jewish law. They aligned themselves more closely with the occupied and oppressed and, for religious reasons, they opposed paying tax to Caesar. Their opposition to paying the Imperial Tax was based less on the fact of occupation and more on the special coin that had to be used to pay this particular tax. You see, this coin – a denarius, worth a day’s wage – carried the inscription or likeness of Tiberius Caesar. And, the Romans considered Caesar the divine son of Augustus. This inscription or likeness was overtly offensive to the religious leaders, and within Jesus’ community the inscription spoke both of oppression and of blasphemy. Thus, in Jesus' time, any conversation about the Imperial Tax was very divisive and immediately revealed where one stood in relation to Rome and faith.
Anyway, these two oppositional groups of people, the Herodians and the Pharisees, invoke a temporary truce as they try to trick Jesus, believing they finally have him cornered. They present Jesus with a question that poses a political conundrum, and they await a political response. They ask Jesus, “Is it lawful to pay taxes to the emperor or not?” By asking this question, they know that if Jesus declares it lawful, he might acquit himself with the Roman authorities, but the crowd of followers would turn against him because it would scandalize the religious establishment. And, if he rules against it, he positions himself against Rome, a position nobody in their right mind would willingly seek. Brilliantly, Jesus responds by widening the question so that it has little to do with politics. He says, “Show me the coin used for the tax.” They quickly bring him a denarius. Then, Jesus asks, “Whose head is this on the coin and whose title?” Thinking they finally have Jesus ensnared, they respond by saying, “The Emperor’s.”
Now, everyone in attendance knew the commandments and they knew that Jesus had just trapped the trappers in their own blasphemy according to Jewish law. To understand what Jesus has just done, listen to the way David Lose describes what just happened. He writes:
There’s more going on here than meets the eye, [because] along with that image is an engraved confession of Caesar’s divinity, which means that any Jew [even] holding the coin is breaking the first two of the commandments. All of which leads to Jesus’ closing line, “Give therefore to the emperor the things that are the emperor’s and to God the things that are God’s.” And with this one sentence, Jesus does not simply evade their trap or confound their plans, he also issues a challenge to his hearers that reverberates through the ages into our sanctuaries.
Now, to even more clearly understand this, if we look at verse 20, a better translation of Jesus’ question would be, “Whose likeness is this, and what title?” And, when the good Jewish religious leaders hear these words, their minds will automatically think back to their Jewish scriptures and the book of Genesis. They will automatically reference God’s pronouncement and promise in Genesis, chapter one, where we read:
Then God said, “Let us make humankind in our image, according to our likeness;”
Jesus’ words are powerful words for the Herodians, the Pharisees and for us. His response calls the Pharisees, the Herodians, and us to think about the way in which we are called to live. The key question here is not whose image is on the coin but rather whose image is on us! Whose image is on our hearts? Jesus is calling us to remember our identity. You see, what Jesus is really reminding us of is that we are made in the image and likeness of God. We are not gods, but we bear God’s likeness and we are to act as God acts regarding the way we live in relationship to all others and the way we live as good stewards of all we have been given. We are to bear the same characteristics God shows to us as we live in relationship to God, to all other people and to creation itself. Jesus is saying that we are called to serve as God’s agents and God’s co-workers, not as an act of power but rather as an act of stewardship, as we work to extend the abundant life God wishes for all people and even all of creation.
As we go through our daily lives, making decisions and interacting with all kinds of people, it is often easy to forget in whose likeness we and they are made. God is always calling us back, to turn again to him and remember that our primary identity is to live as God’s children, live as God’s good stewards of all that we have been given, and act like the God we see in Jesus! And, while Caesar or Empire will get many of our coins, each of our lives is marked with God’s likeness, an icon of the One who is its source and destination, as we embody the kingdom of God. While our currency bears the image of Empire, baptism is the watermark of our true currency, the inspiration for all that we do, the choices we make, and for the many ways in which we live as God’s stewards of all that we have been given.
The point of this Jesus story is that we are called to live remembering that each one of us has been made in the likeness of God. God loves you. God loves you so much that God keeps your picture in the divine wallet and on the heavenly refrigerator. Jesus did not care about the tax – his real concern is that you live into the image and likeness of the God who lovingly created you. And, that means living in such a way that you love God with all your heart and that you truly love your neighbor, and that means all others, as you love yourself and as God loves you! This is the best word we can receive, and it is the best word you can share with others.
I am really exhausted by the chaos, the perpetual lies, the brokenness, the dysfunction, the hatred, the stoking of racism and white supremacy, the despair, the gaslighting, the lack of care for neighbor, the abuse perpetrated on the American people, the grief, the sorrow, and the increasing number of deaths from this virus, all of which seem endless as they impact our lives on a daily basis. So, I found the readings we are given on this day to be medicine for my soul as God again breaks into our present reality with a message that can only come from God.
In our first reading from Isaiah, the prophet shares this vision of another reality, the final future, God’s final future. Isaiah was writing to people who were suffering and experiencing despair. Writing after or close to the end of Israel’s tragic exile to Babylon, he presents this apocalyptic vision of hope to weary people. Isaiah describes a future messianic banquet that is all about God and God’s love for all people.
I think mealtime is always an important event, and meals are a vital component of celebrations. Meals are integral elements of milestones such as weddings and funerals, which involve life’s larger story, changing life’s direction and meaning not only for those most intimately involved but also for the wider community. Thus, mealtime is so much more than just food. And, throughout scripture, the table, the meal, the banquet, and the party repeatedly serve as metaphors for God’s activity in the world.
Isaiah shares this marvelous vision of God’s final future and does so by describing a feast. He describes this universal banquet that will take place on God’s holy mountain. This extravagant feast is for all peoples. All nations will gather together as one for this magnificent celebration. And, what a feast it is! It features the very best foods and wines. In my mind, I envision steak and lobster, a good glass of cabernet, and all sorts of gourmet, delectable dishes! It is the ultimate food and wine festival! God serves as the extravagant host of this party and God spares nothing to make this a lavish, luxurious banquet for all peoples. But Isaiah’s vision does not end there. You see, God’s plans extend even further because even death itself will be sent away and defeated, and all who mourn will be comforted. This is such good news today! The shroud of death that is cast over all people will be gone because God will swallow up death forever. There can be no grander promise than this, and the promise could not be more universal. God will destroy death and wipe away all tears! Such words of promise and hope are lifegiving, so needed in this present time. With so much death presently permeating our lives, I long for that day when death is swallowed up forever.
Today, Jesus also tells a story about a great banquet. And, quite honestly, this is a bizarre story! In fact, Lutheran pastor Nadia Bolz-Weber, calls this the “worst parable ever!” I tend to agree with her. Nadia also talks about how you often need to turn your head a thousand different ways to make sense of Jesus’ parables because Jesus does not define the characters for us. We are not told “this person is God,” or “this person is Jesus,” or “this person is you.” Quite honestly, Christian literature includes many different people throughout history taking a hack at Jesus’ parables and coming up with any number of possibilities that help reveal deeper truths. And, truthfully, we need to see the characters interpreted in a variety of ways so we can grow in understanding.
Anyway, Jesus has already told a few stories after entering the temple and being questioned by the religious leaders about his authority. His first two parables were intense, but this third one is downright extreme. Jesus also ups the ante by beginning with the lead in or teaser, “The kingdom of heaven may be compared to…” Well, with these words he gets the attention of the religious leaders! Anyway, Jesus begins by saying, “The kingdom of heaven may be compared to a king who gave a wedding banquet for his son.” Now, the immediate kicker is that no one who is invited to the party comes. Huh? The king, a person to whom nobody ever says, “no,” suddenly is not even getting RSVPs! People simply are not showing up. And this is only the beginning of the absurdity.
So, the king sends out his slaves with a message of good food, good smells, and good company with the king. Some of the people laugh and walk away, while other people kill the king’s messengers. Then, the king throws a king-sized hissy fit – kills the people who were invited but did not show up, and he burns down their city. After this horrific behavior, he sends his slaves out to invite everyone, good and bad, so he can fill the wedding hall with guests. Finally, when one man comes and is not wearing a wedding robe, he has him bound hand and foot and thrown in the outer darkness where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth!
Frankly, one horrifying aspect of this parable is indeed the king and his actions. It is really hard to make sense of this parable and there have been multiple interpretations where, astoundingly, the king is God. That is even more troubling. So, for these reasons, I am going to share Nadia’s telling of this story. She writes:
Our parable for today is a real doozy. Here’s how I heard it: A king throws a wedding banquet and invites the other rich, slave-owning powerful people. Seemingly unimpressed by the promised veal cutlet at the wedding feast, the elite invitees laugh at the invitation and proceed to abuse and then kill the slaves of the king. Well, then the king kills them back. But he doesn’t stop there, not to be outdone, he burns down the city… and it is there amidst the burning carnage of the newly destroyed city that he sends more slaves to go find whoever they can to fill the seats. After all…the food is ready and he has all these fancy robes for the guests. All he cares about is having every seat filled at his big party. But who is left? He burned the city. The rich and powerful have been murdered so it’s the regular folks wandering the streets looking for their dead, picking apart the charred debris of their burned city who are then told that they have no choice but to go to the party of the guy responsible — and it’s already been established that he doesn’t respond well if you turn him down. So, the terrified masses show up and pretend that this capricious tyrant didn’t just lay waste to their city. Out of fear they all dutifully put on their wedding robes given them at the door and they pretend. Slipping on a gorgeous garment was what you did for a king’s wedding feast. And the guests got to keep the outfits, just a little souvenir of the king’s generosity – and a reminder to keep in line. You don’t get anything from the empire without it costing you a bit of your life.
Well, our story ends with these well-dressed survivors looking on as the King spots the one guy at the banquet who isn’t wearing a wedding robe. And when the innocent man has nothing to say for himself the king has this scapegoat hogtied and thrown into the outer darkness. “Many are called but few are chosen” he says.
Wow!! Nadia’s interpretation of this story blows my mind, but I like where she is going in her interpretation. First, we must remember that Jesus’ audience lived during a lot of upheaval and turmoil. They lived under the thumb of the Roman empire. They were no strangers to moody tyrants burning cities. That was the kind of thing they feared. And, at the time when Matthew wrote his gospel, Christians were being persecuted and Jerusalem had already been destroyed. Furthermore, as we look at the king in this story, we must remember that the God we worship in Jesus Christ is not a powerful king, but a servant. Jesus does not kill his enemies and burn their cities. He is the one killed by his powerful enemies for refusing to go along with them. So, Nadia concludes by saying:
…the kingdom of heaven is like: a first century Jewish peasant who laughed at the powerful, kissed lepers, befriended prostitutes and ate with all the wrong people and whom the authorities and the powerful elite had to hog tie and throw into the outer darkness. …the kingdom of heaven is like Jesus. And what if it is from this place of outer darkness that everything is changed? It is in the outer darkness of Calvary where death is swallowed up forever.
Friends, the tomb of Christ has already swallowed up death forever. Jesus, in his life, ministry, death and resurrection defied the usual world order and empire, and Christ’s defiance of the usual world order sets us free! We live into the reality that Christ has already swallowed death. Even as we walk through the valley of the shadow of death, the risen, universal Christ draws us into life right now! Because of Christ we can defiantly sing our “alleluias.” And, as St. Paul says, we can rejoice in the Lord always because the Lord is truly near, even in the depth of our present experience. And, the peace of God, which truly surpasses all understanding will guard our hearts and our minds in Christ Jesus.
Yes, the tomb of Christ has already swallowed up death, and we have been set free to rise up and defiantly live into God’s new reality! So, rise up and live!
This is a special musical presentation of Standing on the Promised sung by Bob Nelson at Faith Lutheran Church in Okemos, Michigan.
Friends, this past week has been one for the record books. I don’t care which side of the political spectrum you happen to support, what we saw on Tuesday night can only be described as bullying, mean, cruel, and abusive. Such behavior is not ok! It is not ok in public life, it is not ok in private life, it is not ok in civilized society, it is not ok if you have any care for the common good, it is not ok as we live in relationship to others, and it is the antithesis of how we are called to live as people of faith. As I continue to ponder the events of the past week, let alone the events of 2020, I have truly been feeling a deep sense of lament and enormous grief about what is happening in this country. I have also been thinking about today’s readings and, oh my, do they ever speak to us today.
In our first reading, the prophet Isaiah begins by singing a love-song concerning his beloved’s vineyard. When looking at Isaiah’s words, I think he gains the attention of his listening audience when he begins to sing what sounds like a beautiful love-song. And, like us, the people who listened to Isaiah’s song likely expected to hear a ballad with a happy ending. Isaiah sings of how God, his beloved, did everything possible to set up a healthy, thriving vineyard. He tells of how God spared no effort to create an environment conducive to success. The soil was fertile and cultivated; the stones were removed; only the finest quality vines were planted; a watchtower was built in the middle of the vineyard; and a wine vat was built in preparation for the harvesting and processing of the grapes. The love-song is most pleasant to the ears, and listeners’ heartstrings are touched by the nurturing care of the beloved. Yes, the prophet Isaiah is serenading us with such a beautiful love song.
But wait, before you are lulled to sleep with these tender words, listen to what follows. As the iconic Gomer Pyle would say, “Surprise, surprise, surprise!” Isaiah’s love-song is transformed into a song of hard-hitting judgement and lament. Out of the blue and very unexpectedly, this gentle love song is suddenly transformed into a condemning, raunchy, deafening heavy-metal rock-and-roll song.
In any case, the irony of the song comes to the forefront when Isaiah, speaking for God, asks the people of Jerusalem and Judah to “judge between me and my vineyard.” In other words, the people are asked to judge between God on the one side, and Jerusalem and Judah on the other. In an agonizing song of judgement and lament, God tells the people that there is nothing more God can do to guarantee the success of God’s own vineyard. God had done everything that could possibly be done. And, quite honestly, implied here in the song is the human freedom that God gives us. In the song, God the beloved expects the best from God’s people: “God expected it to yield grapes, but it yielded wild grapes.” And, by the way, a more literal translation of “wild grapes” would be “stinking things.” So, the consequences of freedom being misused or abused is that a well-cared for vineyard becomes neglected and turns into a dried-out wasteland of briers and thorns and stinking things!
The concluding verse of the song makes it abundantly clear that the vineyard represents God’s chosen people. God expected and hoped the people would ensure that there was justice for everyone in the nation. Instead of justice, the wealthy class of politicians and businesspeople were killing society’s weakest and most vulnerable citizens. Blood was on the hands of the rich and powerful members of society because their wealth was gained by cheating and robbing society’s poorest class. God expected and hoped for righteousness from God’s very own people. Instead, God heard a cry from the poor and oppressed. God expected God’s own people to look after the poor and oppressed; after all, those who were now blessed with wealth and the good life – had they and their ancestors not cried out to the LORD when they were poor and oppressed slaves in Egypt? Had God not heard their cries and delivered them from Egyptian slavery? Why now had they abused their freedom and become selfish and greedy? They, with their blood money and ill-gotten riches were no better than their former enemy oppressors – the Egyptians.
In our day and age, has anything really changed? Don’t we hear stories of injustice and ill-gotten gain today? Our planet is moaning and groaning due to the selfishness and greed of a minority of the world’s population. 820 million people in this world experience hunger every day. Increasingly, hateful, venomous words are spoken to others as words become weapons. Empathy for others and care for the common good seem to have become arcane, and a malignant focus on individual freedom is spreading like cancer. We are living through a pandemic in which over 210,000 people in our own country have already died and it did not have to be this way. The plague of racism permeates every aspect of our culture and racism and white supremacy are even stoked by our country’s top leaders. Countless numbers of people are hurting following recent hurricanes and fires. Do we hear the cries of suffering and how do we respond? Are we really a caring society? Quite honestly, it seems there are presently a plethora of wild grapes and stinking things in our vineyard.
God’s love, care, and protection come with an expectation: justice and righteousness. These are the fruits God longs to see flourish in us. The blessings and nurture we receive are meant to result in right social relationships. Justice and righteousness are not things we practice for extra credit; they are the main point. God is not content until the blessings we receive are shared fairly with all people. If this fruit is not produced, the consequences may be that God allows us to have our own way and leaves us to our own devices.
In today’s gospel reading, Jesus borrows Isaiah’s words when he tells the allegorical parable of the Wicked Tenants. God, the landowner, has called us to work in the vineyard of the world. But, we decide we want the fruits of the land for ourselves and we refuse to give back to God that which is rightfully God’s. And we beat and mistreat and murder those who would call us to be responsible. And what does God the landowner do in response? God just keeps sending servants, until finally God sends God’s own Son, who also is mistreated and ultimately killed. However, my friends, the good news of this story is that God goes to such great lengths for us because God never gives up on us! This is the amazing part of Jesus’ story, and the part that is too often missed. Like the crazy landowner in this parable, God is constantly working to establish a relationship with us, and God never gives up, no matter how many servants are treated badly. It really does not seem sensible. And, that’s the thing about God’s grace – it isn’t sensible, it isn’t logical – it just abundantly is!
This parable Jesus tells is about the extravagant grace that God has for us and for all people! Jesus is illustrating how God goes to extravagant, excessive, even illogical and crazy extents to shower this love and grace upon us. And no matter how many times we reject God, God keeps at it. God keeps working on establishing a relationship with us!
So, as I continue to reflect upon the events of this past week, the burning west coast, damages from hurricanes and storms, chaos and hatred that daily spew forth from our country’s leadership, the lack of compassion and love as people interact with others, today’s readings not only call all of us to repentance, they also remind us of a God who never gives up on us. God’s Son is continually redeeming creation, and this God never lets us forget that we are the characters in God’s divine love song. God is always showering us with immeasurable grace and love. And, as a tenant in the vineyard, I can only respond by working to bear good fruit. As people of faith, we respond to God’s immeasurable grace by bearing the sweet grapes of love, care and forgiveness, and letting God use us as we work for peace, righteousness, loving kindness, mercy and God’s restorative justice for all people.
Charles Campbell, professor of homiletics at Duke University, when commenting on today’s gospel reading, shares this memory and amusing thought. He writes:
A few years ago, while channel surfing, I paused and watched part of an interview with television psychologist and celebrity Dr. Phil. At one point the interviewer asked Dr. Phil, “If you could interview anyone in the world, past or present, who would it be?” Dr. Phil replied, without hesitation, “Jesus Christ. I would really like to interview Jesus Christ. I would like to have a conversation with him about the meaning of life.” As soon as Dr. Phil spoke, I remember thinking, “Oh no, you wouldn’t! You would not want to sit down with Jesus, treat him like an interviewee, and ask him about the meaning of life. You would be crazy to do that. He would turn you upside down and inside out. He would confound all your questions and probably end up telling you to sell everything you own, give the money to the poor, and come, follow him. No, Dr. Phil, you do not really want to interview Jesus, and I do not want to either. It would not go well.”
Dr. Campbell’s point in telling this story is that conversations with Jesus are dangerous conversations. They are very dangerous because Jesus is always going to twist and turn your thinking, leave your head spinning, take you to new places, and leave you feeling confounded. Jesus cannot be captured or made to fit into our preconceived notions or perspectives. Jesus is always going to be moving us beyond the safety of our preconceived notions, perspectives, and ideas about God. And, quite honestly, when one of these dangerous conversations takes place, the participants will rarely leave the encounter singing a hymn like, “Safe in the Arms of Jesus!”
As we encounter Jesus today, it is the final week of his life. Just one day earlier, he had entered Jerusalem accompanied by shouts of “Hosanna to the Son of David,” as people were proclaiming him king. He then went to the temple and literally turned the tables, knocking them over as he drove out the money changers. He said the temple itself had become “a den of robbers.” It had been an eventful day, to say the least. Things are becoming intense and there is growing, even violent controversy between Jesus and the temple leadership. So, as we enter today’s reading, it is the morning of the next day, and Jesus has returned to the temple. As he enters, he is confronted by the chief priests and elders of the people who try to trap him with a question about authority. They think they are the ones who are in charge and they have ultimate authority at the temple. And, they demand to know, “By what authority are you doing these things?” Believing they have control and are in charge, they are ready to challenge whatever Jesus says.
Well, the chief priests and elders discover that challenging Jesus results in some very dangerous conversation. What they are not prepared for is hearing that Jesus’ authority comes not from another human being but from heaven. Jesus avoids their trap and figuratively turns the tables on the religious leaders with a thorny question of his own, “Did the baptism of John come from heaven, or was it of human origin.” This is a very dangerous question because, in making a commitment about John’s authority, the religious leaders would also make a commitment about John’s witness to Jesus – and thus Jesus’ authority.
Oh yes, the tables have really been turned and the interviewee has now become the interviewer! Jesus outwits the religious leaders, places the question back on them and unmasks their deepest priorities and concerns. You see, the religious leaders are not really interested in Jesus’ true identity, and they are not interested in discovering how God would have them respond to Jesus. No, what they are really interested in is maintaining their privilege, power and control and they want to keep their current order intact. They want to keep Jesus in their tidy little box or have nothing to do with him.
Yes, this was a dangerous conversation indeed! The religious leaders are left speechless and the interview appears to have ended. But, Jesus does not stop. He knows they are off balance and confounded and so, he tells them a story – one of his favorite teaching tools. He tells of two sons. When the father directs the first son to go and work in the vineyard, the mouthy and rebellious son emphatically answers, “I will not go.” But then, he changes his mind and goes anyway. The second son, who appears dutiful and obedient, answers that he will go, but then he does not. When Jesus asks his questioners which of the sons did the will of his father, they say, “The first.”
Again, this is a very dangerous conversation, indeed! According to this parable, those who are seemingly “in the know” (the religious leaders) are not the ones who are doing the will of God. Wow! The tables are again turned. You see, Jesus’ stories and questions are seldom about right answers; rather, they are about calling his followers and his hearers to be transformed. The question really is not “What is the will of God?” It is a much, much deeper question of who belongs in God’s realm or kingdom. And, through this exchange and his questions, Jesus convicts the scribes and elders of their lack of belief, and finally asserts that the despised, tax collectors and prostitutes will enter heaven before they will. Talk about dangerous conversation! This whole exchange begins with the “in the know” religious leaders authoritatively questioning Jesus, and it ends up with a pronouncement that they will be the ones who follow reviled tax collectors and shunned prostitutes into heaven.
Yes, conversations with Jesus are dangerous conversations! Jesus is not interested in simply talking with us about the meaning of life. He is always confronting us with the issue of his identity and the call to faith in him. Again today, Jesus is really asking the central question of the gospels: “Who do you say that I am?” And, Jesus is not about small talk or beating around the bush. Jesus wants our very lives, and he is going to do whatever it takes, even going to the extreme measure of ultimately dying on a cross, to unmask our deadly priorities, and call us to faith in him.
Friends, that call to faith is always a call to turn from the futile, deadly priorities in the world around us, to repent and turn back toward God, because then we find life that truly matters. God desires that we live into life that truly matters. Such life is the ultimate point in our reading from Ezekiel when we hear these words, “Turn, then, and live.” When we do this, we discover that our world and our lives become changed, so changed that we will likely face some kind of disruption, find our preconceived notions shattered and our heads spinning. But we also find that, when we turn toward God, we discover we are grasped by grace. We then respond to God’s call and grace as St. Paul says, by “letting the same mind be in us that was in Christ Jesus.” And, we find God is truly at work within our lives.
Yes, conversations with Jesus are dangerous, indeed. We do not begin by interviewing Jesus, but by believing in him, trusting in his authority, and following him to the places where he goes. And, in the process, our world is always going to be turned upside down and inside out, our heads left spinning and our tongues stammering. We also discover that no matter how much we think we are in control and in charge, whether it be our own lives, the circles in which we function and live, or even the community of faith, we are not. It is God alone who is in charge.
Yes, conversations with Jesus are dangerous indeed. Friends, just like the privileged religious leaders, we are always going to discover that our preconceived notions and perceptions of who Jesus is will always be shattered. Jesus will never be captured or controlled or fit into our little boxes. He is always going to disrupt the ways in which self-righteousness and privilege and piety and power try to control and manage. Jesus will always elude our grasp so that we may be grasped by him and by God’s immeasurable grace and boundless love for all. And, when we realize that we have been grasped by God’s grace, the tables have truly been turned. Then, we can truly celebrate and live into a love that is indiscriminate, boundless in mercy, and life-giving for all.
This is a special musical presentation of Majesty by Addie Thompson and Deb Borton-McDonough on handbells.
This is a special musical performance of The Lord's Prayer by Tammy Heilman at Faith Lutheran Church in Okemos, Michigan.
This is Special Music by Tammy Heilman, accompanied by Deb Borton-McDonough at Faith Lutheran Church in Okemos, Michigan.
This is the Gospel and Sermon for Sunday, September 20. Bishop Elizabeth Eaton is reading Gospel this week and Rev. Dr. Barbara Rossing provides the sermon.
Once upon a time, in the not too distant past, there was a businessman who owned a small vineyard in Napa Valley. As the economy changed and larger corporations were increasingly taking over the market, he began to see the writing on the wall. These larger vineyards were gradually squeezing out the smaller businesses, competition was becoming increasingly challenging, and he knew he would be facing major difficulties in the foreseeable future.
Therefore, he finally decided to sell while his business was still doing rather well. However, he wanted to give his workers one last holiday bonus. Ever since he first started the business, he had given his workers a holiday bonus based on the company’s yearly profit and each individual’s time on the job. And, the past year of operations had been a reasonably good one, so he decided to do something wild and crazy and give everyone a very generous bonus. Not only would everyone receive more than they had during the previous few years, each would also receive equally the same amount. There would be no differentiation based on the time each person had spent working for his company. In other words, if you were simply on the payroll as of December 22nd, the day the checks were written, you got the bonus!
When the envelopes were first opened, it seemed everyone was thrilled to see the amount of his or her bonus. However, as people began to slowly share information and compare checks, guess what happened! Voila!!! It was today’s gospel story in Matthew, chapter 20, all over again!!
The business owner could not believe it. He had tried to do something good for everybody and now he was getting angry phone calls from people who had just received larger bonus checks than they had ever gotten before, but were upset that everyone received the same amount. Envy and greed had become more important than what they had received. The long-time workers thought they had not been treated fairly. And, the business owner had to ask, “Are you envious because I am generous?”
Well, the truth of the matter is, yes. Not only are we human beings greedy and envious, as I mentioned last week, we are also great scorekeepers and bookkeepers. In fact, we love to keep score. And, when it comes to a person’s just reward for actions, work or whatever, we turn into some top-notch bookkeepers. We love to keep score and we are oh so good at it!! We keep score of day to day relational stuff that goes on within our families, wanting everyone to be treated fairly, yet quite often acting as though there is not enough love to go around. We keep score of the stuff that happens at work. We not only want everyone to be treated fairly for their efforts, but we also do not want to lose out on any rewards for ourselves. And, when it comes to fairness and score keeping between businesses, organizations, communities and countries, well…..all we need to do is take a look at the news headlines and the world around us. Yes, we want to be treated fairly, especially if we can benefit from that treatment.
In today’s reading, Jesus again tells a story about the reign of God, the household of the community of God’s people. He tells of a crazy landowner who treated his laborers equally, regardless of the disproportionate hours they worked. And, Jesus’ story seems to suggest that when it comes to life in the kingdom of God, there is an element of what we would consider unfairness. His words to us today are unsettling and they shatter our perceptions of fairness. His words cut right through the ordered world we try to create.
Yes, we want an ordered world in which everybody gets what we consider to be their just reward, what we consider fair. Friends, this perceived order and desire for what we consider fair is as old as humanity itself. When looking at our other readings for today, we discover that even Jonah struggled with his perception of what he considered fair and not fair. God forgives the people of Nineveh, but Jonah begrudges forgiveness for his enemies. And, in Paul’s letter to the Philippians, Paul also addresses this issue. When we are deeply divided and see others as undeserving enemies, Paul reminds us that only because of God’s unending forgiveness for both sides of every quarrel or disagreement, can we really accept one another and live in unity.
Friends, the truth of the matter is that Jesus invaded this world to create a new order, an order that replaces our order, our individual, cultural and social assumptions of what is fair and not fair. The disciples have been struggling to understand this in-breaking reign or kingdom of God, this new order Jesus has been talking about. They have been operating out of the existing social framework and mindset with which they had grown up and were so familiar. They, like each one of us, have assumptions and understandings of the way the world should work, assumptions that include keeping score of rich and poor, superior and inferior, those who are in and those who are out – a list that goes on and on and on…. Then, Jesus goes and messes it all up by telling a story that again unsettles us. His story undercuts and interrupts our assumptions. But, through his words, he creates the possibility of something very new. Jesus gives us words to “envision the new order of God and unmask the deadly spirits and inequality of the old order.” (Feasting on the Word, p. 95)
Jesus holds before us God’s vision and desire for this world, a vision where all are treated equally. Jesus holds before us a new reality that undermines the old distinctions and the competitive struggle with which we are all so preoccupied. Theologian Warren Carter, describing Jesus’ story and the landowner’s surprising payment to the workers, says:
Instead of maintaining differentiation among the laborers based on performance, instead of reinforcing the superiority of some at the expense of the rest, the landowner has evened out the distinctions and treated them in solidarity as equals. Instead of using wages to reinforce distinctions, he uses [wages] to express equality and solidarity. (Matthew and the Margins: A Sociopolitical and Religious Reading, p. 394.)
Yes, Jesus describes a new social order and his words painfully expose the suppositions of the existing social order that has shaped us. I love what Professor Charles Campbell writes when describing Jesus’ words. He says:
[Jesus’ story] exposes the fundamental metaphors that so often structure social relations: winner and loser, superior and inferior, insider and outsider, honored and shamed. It unmasks an order that often encourages us to pray, ‘Give me this day my daily bread,’ rather than, ‘Give us this day our daily bread.’” (Feasting on the Word, p. 97.)
While Jesus’ story makes us face some of our individual, social, and cultural assumptions, the biggest truth about today’s gospel reading is that this story is NOT about us. Well, surprise, surprise, surprise!!! Ultimately, Jesus’ story is not really about us at all! Jesus’ story is really all about the endless generosity and amazing graciousness of God! His story is really about a God who, like the crazy landowner, bestows unmeasured grace and mercy to all people, regardless of how deserving or undeserving we think people to be.
The reality is that God’s generosity and grace disrupts, undercuts, and violates our assumptions and opinions about the way this world should be ordered. The good news is that the grace of God is showered upon all in equal measure. The good news is that with God, there is no such thing as “partial benefits!” The good news is that God’s love never runs out and it comes to us as an inexhaustible supply! In fact, the good news is that God is a lousy bookkeeper! The good news is that, in the cross, we see a God who loves us so much that we can let go of all our bookkeeping and scorekeeping efforts, and live into the love and grace that has been poured upon the world, in fact poured upon the cosmos! And, when that happens, we will find much greater joy in living.
When preaching on today’s gospel reading, my friend, Bill Uetricht, has shared a story which addresses a practice all of us are so very good at executing – scorekeeping. And, with his permission, I want to share that story:
In the beginning, God didn’t make just two people; he made a bunch of us. Because he wanted us to have a lot of fun, and he said you couldn’t really have fun unless there’s a whole gang of you. At first, we did have fun just like he expected. We rolled down the hills, waded in the streams, ran in the meadows, frolicked in the woods, and acted silly. We laughed a lot.
Then one day this snake told us that we weren’t having real fun because we weren’t keeping score. Back then, we didn’t know what score was. When he explained it, we couldn’t see the fun. But he said we should give an apple to the person who was best at all the games and we’d never know who was best without keeping score. We could see the fun of that, of course, because we were all sure that we were the best.
It was different after that. We yelled a lot. We had to make up new scoring rules for most of the games. Others, like frolicking, we stopped playing because they were too hard to score.
By the time God found out what had happened we were spending 45 minutes a day actually playing and the rest of the time working out scoring. God was angry about that – very, very wroth. He said we couldn’t use his garden anymore because we weren’t having fun. We told him we were having lots of fun. He was just narrow-minded because it wasn’t exactly the kind of fun he originally thought of.
He wouldn’t listen. He kicked us out, and said we couldn’t come back until we stopped keeping score. To rub it in, he told us we were all going to die and our scores wouldn’t mean anything anyway.
He was wrong. My cumulative, all-game score is 16,548. And if I can raise it to 20,000 before I die, I’ll know I’ve accomplished something. Even if I can’t my life has a great deal of meaning because I have taught my children to score high and they’ll be able to reach 20,000 or even 30,000.
Really, it was life in the garden that didn’t mean anything. Fun is great in its place but without scoring there’s no reason for it. God actually has a very superficial view of life, and I’m certainly glad my children are being raised away from his influence. We were lucky. We’re all very grateful to the snake. (Ann Herbert)
Yes, friends, we really are in bondage to the mathematical practice of scorekeeping. We keep score in just about everything we do. Education is built around scorekeeping. Sports are built around scorekeeping. Our finances and financial systems require bookkeeping, a form of scorekeeping, as we constantly focus on credits and debits. If we look at today’s political climate and our political leaders, scorekeeping is the name of the game. After all, you must keep score so you can get even with others, get retribution, and win. Quite honestly, I think we would be hard pressed to find an aspect of life in which scorekeeping was not present in some shape or form. Our passion for scorekeeping influences just about every facet of the way we live in relationship to others. It even influences our ability to live into the forgiveness we have been given in Christ.
In today’s gospel reading, Jesus is teaching about forgiveness, and we discover that even Peter was into mathematical scorekeeping. We find him asking Jesus how many times he should forgive a sister or brother who mistreats or takes advantage of him, and he almost seems magnanimous as he asks, “Seven times?” Well, Jesus was not impressed with such a generous offer of forgiving a person seven times, and he gives Peter a different mathematical formula for his scorekeeping efforts: seventy-seven times. In other words, so many times that you need to stop counting! Don’t keep score! You can never forgive enough!
The issue is not how much or how often we are asked to forgive or should forgive. For people of faith, the act of forgiveness is already a limitless, measureless act. Forgiveness is never not present in our lives and in our relationships. That’s the issue. Forgiveness is part and parcel of the Kingdom of Heaven and, as Christians, it is an aspect of our identity. It’s a constant. It’s not optional. It’s not a choice. However, far too often we want it to be a choice — and that is what is at the heart of Peter’s question.
Anyway, to help Peter and all of us better understand, Jesus again shares a story to emphasize what he is saying. Now, we need to remember that Jesus’ stories often contain a lot of hyperbole and exaggeration. This story is no different. Jesus tells about a king who ponders his own scorekeeping when looking at his accounts receivable. This king discovers that a certain slave owes him about a gazillion dollars. Jesus said the amount was 10,000 talents which was the equivalent of 150,000 years of labor. It is such an outrageous amount we might as well say it was more than the combined national economies of all the G7 nations! Well, the slave is summoned to appear before him. The slave falls to his knees and begs for mercy, for time to do something that would be utterly impossible, for time to repay what is owed. Inexplicably and without so much as a word, the king relents. The king as much as shrugs and says, “Okay. I forgive the debt.”
And just like that, the slave is free. His utterly unpayable debt is vaporized, whoosh, like the sound of thousands of e-mails being deleted and sent to the trash bin. His unpayable debt has been totally deleted and wiped from the books.
Well, we might imagine this slave’s response. Just picture him, walking away from the castle, standing a little taller, shoulders back, whistling a merry tune. If this were a musical, we might see him do a little jig. As he struts along, he then sees a fellow slave, one who owes him a measly sum, so the slave stops in his tracks. And, he lapses back into bondage, back into the bondage of scorekeeping and spreadsheets and accounts receivable and into a blind allegiance to what he sees as fair.
So, he says to his fellow slave, “Hey man. You owe me five bucks. Pay up now. Right now.” The fellow slave falls to his knees. “Patience, man, patience! Friday’s coming. I will get right with you.” But no. That is not good enough. The slave whose enormous, unpayable debt has just been forgiven is then extremely hard and cruel and mean to the other guy, his fellow slave. Immediately, he throws the fellow slave in prison. Really? Set free from an impossible debt, this man cannot look past a debt that would equal the cost of a cup of Biggby coffee and a doughnut? The guy who had been forgiven a debt the size of the combined national economies of all the G7 nations could not find it in his heart to forgive the guy who owed him five bucks!?!
The difference between what was owed by the first slave and the fellow slave was astronomical! When hearing this aspect of Jesus’ story, Peter and all the others had to have been stunned! Everyone listening would have been shocked by Jesus’ words, shocked to even imagine such forgiveness. And, we should also be stunned!
Friends, the scorekeeping job is not ours. Revenge and vengeance after being wronged is not our job. Evening the score is not our job. Our job is to forgive. Jesus shocked his listeners with the use of these absurd amounts regarding scorekeeping to show them that God’s forgiveness is limitless. And so, again, when talking about the life Jesus calls us to live, Jesus turns our “normal” expectations upside down and inside out.
Jesus ends his story by saying that when the king found out what the first slave had done, he handed him over to be tortured until he would pay his entire debt. I like how Richard Rohr describes the end of this story. He says:
The greedy and selfish debtor, who is owed a mere five dollars, throttles his fellow servant, ignores his attempts and promises, and throws him into prison (as if that is going to help). And in his attempt to imprison the other, he ends up being “tortured” and imprisoned himself. This is a classic Middle Eastern wisdom story. It is both a gracious statement about what we can always expect from God and an honest warning about how any refusal to forgive actually destroys and imprisons the very one who refuses to forgive!
The parable ends with the invitational one-liner: “Each of you must forgive your brother [or sister] from the heart!” This is what the Master/God has just done. Jesus invites all of us in this rather easy-to-understand story into God’s nonsensical loving “from the heart” which is the final staccato phrase.
Friends, we follow the one whose nonsensical loving heart is most fully seen in the cross. On the cross, God does away with scorekeeping! On that cross, Jesus said, “Father, forgive them for they know not what they do.” And, as Nadia Bolz Weber says,
God’s forgiveness is like giant bolt-cutters, setting us free. And then God says go and do likewise. Forgive as you have been forgiven. Cut others loose too. Jesus commands it. It’s not actually a suggestion. He commands us to forgive just as he commands us to love.”
This is a special musical presentation of Written in Red sung by Bob Nelson at Faith Lutheran Church in Okemos, Michigan.
This is a special musical presentation of Balm in Gilead sung by Christopher Lewis at Faith Lutheran Church in Okemos, Michigan
There is an old story about two men who lived in a small village. They got into a terrible dispute which they could not resolve. So, they decided to talk to the town sage. The first man went to the sage's home and told his version of what happened. When he finished, the sage said, "You're absolutely right." The next night, the second man called on the sage and told his side of the story. The sage responded, "You're absolutely right." Afterward, the sage's wife scolded her husband. "Those men told you two different stories and you told them they were absolutely right. That's impossible -- they can't both be absolutely right." The sage turned to his wife and said, "You're absolutely right."
That little story is rather humorous, and it helps to describe life within community when people do not want to face conflict. Too often, disagreements and differences just simmer below the surface and people are never honest with each other. And, as we think about life within the church, many people tend to think there should be no conflict within the faith community. However, Jesus’ teaching in today’s gospel lesson seems to proceed on the baseline assumption that conflict in Christian community is normal and natural and should be dealt with honestly. It should be addressed with compassion, forgiveness, and reconciliation. And, from Jesus’ teaching today, we discover the community of faith is always called to bear witness to the forgiveness and reconciliation Christ is bringing into the world.
Today’s gospel reading has been a difficult passage to digest in the Western church. In the western world, we have been deeply influenced and shaped by the Enlightenment philosophy of John Locke, so much so that the dominant understanding of the local church in the modern world has been that of a voluntary association of autonomous individuals. This is especially the case in America, where toxic individualism, with its emphasis on independence, self-reliance, and individual authority, is held in such high esteem. In our culture, church is often a place of self-sufficient individuals who gather for worship on Sunday, as their calendar permits, then leave to do their own thing throughout the rest of the week. But, at the time of the early church, the faith community was a place of mutual interdependence, where each member was incomplete without the other, where the suffering of one was truly the suffering of all, and where the honor of one led to the rejoicing of all. This reading from Matthew assumes a close-knit community of committed people of faith. And, in comparison, few churches in today’s culture can claim that assumption as we live in an age of radical malignant individualism.
As we approach this reading, we need to recognize these different cultural contexts. And, in a polarized society such as ours where we are often defined by our differences, in a climate of anger and violence, in a context of toxic individualism run rampant, we must recognize that this gospel reading has tragically and too frequently been used and interpreted as a legalistic weapon to clobber others. Far too often, this passage has been used to provide rules of engagement for combat rather than the rule of Christ to love, forgive and reconcile.
As we all know, honesty, forgiveness, compassion, and reconciliation are rarely the watchwords of our church conflicts, let alone conflicts in the greater community or in our country. Within faith communities, far too often anger, hurt feelings, and lack of clear communication drive us toward either sweeping everything under the rug to keep peace, or openly hostile entrenched positions that lead to explosions with people permanently leaving the church. But, Jesus says there is another way.
First, he asks us to use direct and respectful communication. If we are struggling with something a church member has said or done, we are not to talk behind his or her back. Nor are we to stage a dramatic public confrontation during fellowship time. We are to take time aside, after the initial rush of emotion has subsided, and engage in dialogue with that person one-on-one. If that conversation is not fruitful, we create a small group of all parties involved to discern and pray together. If no progress is made, then we let transparency be our guiding principle and search for a solution as a whole church community, bearing one another’s burdens and seeking reconciliation. Now, as we are all aware, some conflicts and disagreements are so deep that even these steps cannot ease them. So, Jesus says, “If the offender refuses to listen even to the church, let such a one be to you as a Gentile and a tax collector.” Well, with these words, we tend to breathe a sigh of relief. Too often, we find these words enable us to feel justified, and then we simply shun and push aside the supposed troublemakers, making ourselves feel comfortable again. Hooray!
No!! That is not what Jesus is saying. We are not off the hook at all. Why? Because of how Jesus treated gentiles and tax collectors. What can we learn from his words and actions toward them that we can then apply to our fellow church members? Well, remember that, when Jesus tells the story of the Pharisee and the tax collector praying in the temple, he emphasizes the Pharisee’s grandstanding pride and self-satisfaction versus the tax collector’s pained and private acknowledgement of his own sin. To treat a fellow church member like a tax collector would then be to realize that beneath the outer façade, that person might be hiding a great deal of pain and regret over his or her own actions in the conflict. Jesus says this tax collector went home justified and forgiven. Could we not look for the hidden self of the person with whom we are in conflict and have our compassion awakened? Could we not realize that we ourselves might be in danger of praying like the Pharisee, proud and certain of our own righteousness?
Jesus treated reviled tax collectors and sinners with mercy, with invitation, with hospitality, and with love. When Jesus tells us that we are to treat our most stubborn and contrary faith community members like tax collectors, he is telling us to treat them as he did, disciples who are God’s beloved children. And, remember, Matthew himself was a tax collector!
And, what about those despised gentiles, any of those we consider “other?’ Well, again we can look at Jesus’ example. One of Jesus’ most famous encounters with a gentile was the healing of the despised Syrophoenician woman’s daughter. He initially refuses her request saying the food for the children of Israel cannot be given to the dogs. Her clever and persistent response, “Yes, Lord, yet even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their master’s table,” convinces Jesus to change his mind. Now, if Jesus, himself, can be persuaded to soften, become more understanding and change his mind about someone, can we not do the same? Jesus was not afraid to really listen and be changed by what he heard. We are given the opportunity to do the same!
Jesus’ instruction to treat those with whom we disagree as tax collectors and gentiles opens to us a whole array of creative and surprising paths toward reconciliation. All of this is so important not just because of the simple reality that there is no such thing as church without conflict. It matters because of how Jesus concludes his instructions saying, “Truly I tell you, whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth will be loosed in heaven.” How we choose to treat one another when the going gets rough has consequences that far outlast questions like the theology of sexuality or that knock-down drag-out fight over the carpet color in the narthex. We have the power to bind and loose. With our choices, we can bind each other even tighter into our separate camps and polarized positions, or, we can loose ourselves from our pride and our ever-present need to be right. We can loose one another from assumptions and stereotypes and bitterness. Having been freed in Christ, we can then do as St. Paul says in our reading from his letter to the Romans. We can put on the Lord Jesus Christ. We can put on the clothes of Christ and be bound together with the unbreakable love of the crucified, risen Christ – a body tested, refined, healed and flourishing with new life.
Our three-year-old grandson, William, who lives in Grand Cayman, now knows how to initiate a Facetime call to us all by himself. When he calls, I read books to him, we sing songs, and we play games. One game he loves to play is a form of Follow the Leader, in which he makes crazy faces, then I make the same face. Or, I will make a funny face and he then follows. It is just so much fun! However, our game abruptly ends when the follower decides he no longer wants to copy the leader, when he decides he wants to do something else.
Today, Jesus teaches the disciples and each one of us about what it means to Follow the Leader, Jesus style! He tells the disciples what it really means to follow him as their leader. He is alarmingly blunt about what it means to follow him, and Peter does not want to go there.
Peter has just experienced a monumental come to Jesus moment where he responded to Jesus saying, “You are the Christ, the Messiah, the Son of the living God!” Jesus had just called Peter a rock and said that he would build his “called out” beloved community, the church, on the rock of Peter’s testimony and confession of faith. Jesus has just made Peter a kind of deputy leader in the kingdom of God. And, now, Jesus seems to ruin the moment they had all just experienced when he tells Peter and the others, "Look, the road to Jerusalem is filled with nails. They'll pierce me and put an end to me, but after three days God will reclaim my life."
Well, only a short time before this, Jesus had given Peter the “keys of the kingdom,” a major leadership position, with the power to bind and loose. And, as Peter now hears Jesus speak of what lies ahead, Peter has the audacity to seek to use his newfound sense of authority as he attempts to bind Jesus! Peter clearly had a certain vision in mind regarding what it means for Jesus to be the leader they had hoped for. And, the things Jesus is now saying certainly do not fit his perception of the leadership they anticipated in a Messiah. Peter takes Jesus aside and says, "Come to your senses, man. Don't you remember I just pronounced you the Messiah, the Christ, the Son of the living God? These things that you are talking about don't happen to God; and God forbid, they must never happen to you." Now, what really goes unsaid is, "Because, of course, that would mean that these things of which you speak would also happen to someone who followed you, someone like me."
Peter's perception of the Messiah’s leadership and his own importance as keeper of the keys is then abruptly shattered as Jesus barks back at him saying, "Get behind me, Satan! You are a scandal, a stumbling block to me, for you have set your mind not on divine things, but on human things." Well, the rest of the air escapes from Peter’s self-important balloon as Jesus goes on to say, "You want these keys? Anyone who intends to come with me has to let me lead. You’re not in the driver’s seat; I am. Don’t run from suffering; embrace it. Follow me and I’ll show you how. Self-help is no help at all. Self-sacrifice is the way, my way, to finding yourself, your true self. What kind of deal is it to get everything you want but lose yourself? What could you ever trade your soul for?"
Peter and the disciples were ready for a Messiah who was supposed to come and restore the Jewish kingdom, make the Jewish kingdom great again, by overthrowing oppressive empires, and they saw themselves assisting in this effort. But now, Jesus is talking about going to Jerusalem to suffer and die! Jesus gives them an ad hoc lecture in God's plan for the Messiah and the kind of kingdom he is ushering in. And, following this kind of leader is just the antithesis of what they had anticipated.
Well, in our culture today, I have to say we are no different. We are a people who are interested in winning. We are people who want to be in charge and on top. We are self-absorbed people who want to stay within the cocoon of our comfortable lives, stay in our little bubbles, and not get into the thick of the need in this world. We are people who live in a very self-centered, narcissistic culture, wanting to avoid the pain and messiness of life. We do everything we can to avoid suffering and self-sacrifice. Yet, Jesus tells us that if we want to gain life, life that truly matters, we are to follow him and do as he does. He tells us we will gain life that truly matters when we follow him and do things like sooth the pain of the sick; care for children in need; hammer nails in houses for those without shelter; share bread with the hungry; visit those in prison; help and assist people who have lost everything in fires like those taking place in California, or in hurricanes like Laura; work to end and dismantle oppression of any kind; work to dismantle the racism that plagues our culture. And, Jesus calls us to do this in the selfless way he models for us, by letting go of our egos – by letting our egos die. And, letting our egos die is quite honestly, one of the hardest aspects of discipleship, let alone leadership, because it leads us to living lives of sacrificial love as Paul instructs in today’s reading from Romans. It means we become accomplices with Jesus in doing things like blessing those who persecute us, blessing and not cursing them. It means never seeking vengeance and retribution because God says, “Vengeance is mine.” It means feeding our enemies and giving them water to drink because only good overcomes evil. Yes, following the leader, Jesus style, is difficult, but the rewards are great.
Friends, like Peter and the other disciples, we face the chasm between Jesus’ call to discipleship and our own lives as part-time volunteers for the Gospel. Few Christians abandon everything for the Gospel’s sake. Most of us simply fit our Christianity into the open spots on our calendars. But in this passage Jesus links the life of discipleship with his own path. We are to follow his leading. And, astonishingly, Jesus offers crucifixion to those who would follow him. In a bold assertion of God’s boundary-crossing grace, Jesus takes as his logo and brand the grim killing tool of the world’s superpower and says to us, “Take up your cross. If you want to follow me, deny yourself; if you want to find your life, give up your life.”
The gospel is always an invitation to death before it bestows new life. This is how God’s love will redeem and resurrect sinners from the futility of life devoted to profit and winning and the “all about me” syndrome that is so present in our country. Because Jesus leads by dying on the cross, we may now give ourselves to him and die to the powers that possess and control us. Following Jesus is about following him into the messiness and dysfunction of the world and carrying the cross. We do not control or bind God, and we do not stipulate or give Jesus the conditions to our discipleship; instead, we risk contamination and insecurity by releasing the need to protect our very own lives.
Following the leader, Jesus style, means living in solidarity with Jesus’ own way of life in this world. Instead of binding Jesus for our own self-preservation, we must faithfully follow and bear witness to him, “even at the risk of losing our lives.” And, the most amazing aspect of following the leader Jesus’ style and participating in the very life of Christ’s living body in the world, is that we find ourselves resurrected to new life.
It is hard to follow Jesus to this place, but he says he will make good on his promise. Although new life, life that truly matters, will not be an easy life, Jesus promises that the day is coming when the “Son of Man” will appear in glory. God has already acted decisively and ultimately in the person of Jesus. God has already acted! And so, we follow, trusting that there will come a day when God will wipe away all tears, a day when death will be no more, a day when mourning and crying and pain will be no more. The promise of full redemption for this entire world is unmistakable and certain. Thanks be to God!