This is the final sermon in the series, "Growing with Peter." It is based on John 21.

     The journey home had been uneventful. A few miles out from the village, James and John caught up with Peter and Andrew. Together they traveled the remaining distance, the air growing thicker with the smell of the Sea of Galilee getting closer. They were engrossed in conversation, replaying all the events in Jerusalem that had astonished them all. The Lord had appeared briefly in the room where they had celebrated the last supper before his execution and blessed them with peace and the Holy Spirit. Then he was gone again.

            Now some of the disciples were returning to Galilee, going back to their homes. At the edge of town, Peter noticed the place where he had first met the teacher, back when his brother Andrew had dragged him out to the desert. It seemed a lifetime ago when he was identified Simon, son of Jonah, and then renamed Peter by the Lord. As he entered into the village, he felt disoriented—everything looked the same, yet his whole world had been radically changed. The inside of him did not match the surroundings that he called home.

            Peter’s wife and mother-in-law were waiting to welcome the men and had a meal prepared for them to eat. As he sat down, he recalled the day when the teacher had healed crowds of sick people right in his house. It was like a dream then, and even now he found himself almost wondering if it had really happened. The days passed, and Peter felt like a fish out of water, struggling to figure out how to be after all he had experienced with the teacher.

            After a couple of weeks, Peter decided to make preparations to head out and try to live out the teachings of the Lord. He felt unsure of himself, especially after he had denied the teacher three times right before his execution. How could he be the rock upon which the church was to be built after his miserable failure? But he knew that he could not deny that the Lord was alive now and so Peter felt he had to do something despite his lapse in faithfulness.

            He figured he would gather up the provisions he would need to survive on the road. He calculated how much money would be necessary to be away for a year, and then set out the only way he knew how to earn it. One evening, after a meal with some of the other disciples, he got up and said, “I am going fishing.”

            The rest of them looked at Peter, and then got up to follow, saying, “We will go with you.” As they approached the lake, some of Peter’s old fishing buddies caught sight of him and yelled out hearty greetings, “Simon, Simon!” It was a bit jarring since he had been going by Peter for awhile now, and it reminded him of his former life as a fisherman. He greeted them and asked about their families and luck on the lake. Then all of the men began to prep the boats for the night’s work.

            After pulling out his old fishing equipment, and checking to see that his nets were in good shape to use, Peter and the other disciples got into the boat and pushed off into the water. It felt good to be back in familiar work, and Peter soon stripped down to his undergarments so he could better maneuver the boat and nets. As they trolled his various favorite spots, Peter thought ahead to getting enough fish so he could begin his work for the Lord.

            Hours passed and still the men had not caught anything. Soon Peter’s excitement turned to gloom when he realized that the night’s efforts were going to prove futile. How was he going to do anything if he couldn’t even acquire a single fish for a meal?

            Suddenly he heard a voice calling to them. They all turned and looked towards shore and saw a figure standing on the beach. “Children, you have no fish, have you?” It was embarrassing to realize that their failed expedition had been observed by a stranger. Some of the other disciples dejectedly answered, “No.” Peter hoped that would be the end of the exchange, but the stranger called out again. “Cast the net to the right side of the boat, and you will find some.”

            It was a ridiculous request now that it was after daybreak, but Peter felt a familiar anxiety growing. He had been through this before. He and the other disciples threw the nets overboard and in time they felt the tug and pull of many fish swarming. They tried to reel the catch in, but the weight was staggering. One of the disciples immediately exclaimed, “It is the Lord!”

            That was all Peter needed to hear, as he threw his clothes on. Eager to make amends and pay his respects to the teacher, he jumped into the lake though the boat was only a hundred yards from shore. He simply could not wait any longer and so he swam fiercely to get to him. Just as he reached the point where he could stand up, the other disciples pulled up next to him in the boat. They all waded up the shoreline towards the teacher, who was now tending a fire on the beach.

            When they arrived, they could see lots of fish in the coals and loaves of bread sitting next to the fire. Before any of them sat down, the teacher said, “Bring some of the fish that you have just caught.” Sopping wet, Peter turned and quickly ran back into the lake. He was determined to obey the Lord in light of his previous letdowns. He heaved the net from the boat, and with all the strength he could muster, hauled it to the other disciples and teacher by the fire.

            Standing there, drenched from both the lake water and physical exertion of dragging the fish in, Peter looked to the teacher for direction. The teacher gazed at him waiting. Not knowing what else to do, Peter got down on his knees and began to empty the net. It was only then that he noticed how enormous each fish was, every single one much bigger than any fish he had ever caught in his whole life. Any one of them would have been the talk of the village, and Peter pulled 153 out of his un-torn net.

            Surrounded by the bountiful catch, he realized the immensity of what the teacher had provided. Here was more than enough to provide for his needs. Peter then remembered the words of the teacher, “Do not worry about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, or about your body, or what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing?... your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things.  But strive first for the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.” Peter put the net down, aware of the tangible lesson he had just been shown. He looked at the teacher who motioned him over. “Come and have breakfast.”

            Peter joined the other disciples around the fire as the Lord took the bread and fish and gave each of them generous portions. They all ate hungrily, grateful for the abundance of food. After they had finished eating, it grew quiet and the teacher looked around at the disciples, letting his eyes rest upon each one. He seemed to have a private exchange with each of them, communicating silently a world of understanding.

            When he turned to fix his eyes on Peter, Peter looked down at the ground. The memory of his failure was fresh in his mind, and he could still vividly recall how he had publicly denied knowing the teacher three times. It was made all the worse because he had been the most vocal about his devotion to the Lord, claiming that he would never leave him and would even die for him. Instead, Peter had betrayed the teacher and fled the scene, leaving him to die alone. Though the Lord had triumphed over it all, Peter was haunted by what he had done.

            Finally, Peter forced himself to raise his head to face the teacher’s intent countenance. Instead of remaining silent like he had with the other disciples, the Lord spoke aloud to him. “Simon, son of Jonah, do you love me more than these?” Peter responded immediately to his question, anxious to tell the teacher that despite his blunders he was now more devoted than ever. “Yes Lord, you know that I love you!”  He said to him, “Feed my lambs.”

            Peter pondered his words as the fire crackled. He thought of all the crowds of people who had flocked around the teacher, wherever he went. Some sought healing, others food, still others were skeptics whose curiosity brought them to him. How did the teacher want him to respond to all these folks? He was surprised when the Lord’s voice interrupted his thinking.

            “Simon, son of Jonah, do you love me?” Peter was confused by the second questioning. He did not miss that the teacher was calling him by his family name instead of the one he had given him, but he wondered why he was being asked once more. This time he resolved to look directly at the teacher so he could fervently express his faithfulness. “Yes, Lord, you know that I love you.”  The teacher said to him, “Tend my sheep.”

            Again Peter contemplated what the teacher was commanding him to do. He recalled the encounter that had solidified his decision to leave everything behind to follow the Lord. It was the first time he had experienced a miraculous catch of fish, and when the teacher had told him that Peter would now be catching people. He had wondered back then what the Lord had meant by that, but he was beginning to understand. As he was about to inquire more about it, Peter was stunned to be asked a third time.

            “Simon, son of Jonah, do you love me?” Peter felt hurt and was stung by the teacher’s questioning. Three times he was being asked, and the weight of his three denials sunk in. The Lord’s death had been costly on many levels. His voice contrite, Peter answered him, “Lord, you know everything; you know that I love you.”

            One last time, the teacher said to him, “Feed my sheep.” Then he came to Peter and put his hand on his shoulder, saying, “Very truly I tell you, when you were younger you used to fasten your own belt and go wherever you wished. But when you grow old, you will stretch out your hands, and someone else will fasten a belt around you and take you where you do not wish to go.”

            The words lay heavily upon Peter, as he gradually took in their significance. His whole life he had been strong in mind and body, doing as he wished. Even when he had left everything to follow the teacher, Peter had retained his autonomy and did not shy away from challenging him. He remembered the night when he had taken the teacher aside to rebuke him for talking about his imminent death. He had been shocked when the teacher had abruptly stopped him, saying, “Get behind me Satan!”

            It was at that point when Peter began to really struggle with the Lord’s teaching, “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.  For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it.” Peter sat with the teacher’s prediction, taking in the reality that the teacher’s fate was his fate. His love for the Lord would bind him through life and death. It was a serious calling, one that would involve all his passion and whole self.

            The teacher took his hand off Peter’s shoulder and then extended it to help him to his feet. “Follow me,” he said and together they began walking away from the lake, away from Peter’s former life. He was filled with both comfort and nervousness, knowing that the Lord would always be with him but not knowing what lay ahead. Peter turned around to take one more glance and saw that one of the other disciples was following them.

            “Lord, what about him?” Peter could not help but wonder about the others. Would they have to face death as the teacher had implied Peter would? Was there another way to be faithful to the Lord? The teacher took his arm and gently pulled him forward so that they continued their journey. “If it is my will that he remain until I come, what is that to you? Follow me!” Peter looked at his Lord, and then fell into step beside him. It was enough, simply to know that the Lord would be going with him. Peter set off, ready to become a catcher of people.

This Easter sermon continues the series, "Growing With Peter." It is based on Luke 24:1-12.

       They were headed south towards Jerusalem. With each passing town, Peter grew increasingly anxious, unsure of what lay ahead. After making their way up the Mount of Olives, they reached the crossroads of the town Bethany and Bethpage. The teacher sent two of the disciples to fetch a young colt and later in the day he mounted it and rode it into Jerusalem. Peter and the others followed, amazed at the crowds which gathered to greet him. They lay their cloaks upon the road, waved palm branches, and raised their voices in praise of the teacher. It was an overwhelming scene and Peter’s heart swelled with hope.

            The commotion as they entered into Jerusalem also drew the attention of the religious leaders as they came to see why all the people were so excited. It was clear they were displeased and they shouted above the crowds’ joyful singing, telling the teacher to make the people stop. It was useless, however, and soon enough they left because more and more people gathered to praise him. Peter let out a triumphant cry as well, sensing that perhaps the teacher was mistaken in his past predictions. It looked as if the whole of Jerusalem was behind him and Peter could imagine the teacher victoriously ruling over the people.

            The next week was a blur of activity with many hours spent at the temple teaching the crowds. The religious authorities were always lurking around, trying to catch the teacher in some kind of heresy. With each passing day though, Peter grew more confident that there was nothing they could do. The teacher was too smart for them and easily deflected their attempts to trap him plus there were constantly masses of people surrounding him. Things were looking up.

            Soon the Festival of Unleavened Bread was upon them. Everywhere in Jerusalem there were signs of preparation as people hurried about getting a Passover lamb ready for sacrifice. The disciples asked the teacher, “Where do you want us to make the preparations for you to eat the Passover?” He gave them very specific directions about where to go and what to do, and when they carried out his instructions exactly as he had said, Peter was not surprised at the teacher’s foresight. After all, he had demonstrated again and again that his knowledge was beyond human understanding and his powers were from the divine realm.

            Peter was looking forward to celebrating the Passover with the teacher and other disciples. In the past, he had enjoyed this annual holiday with his brother Andrew and their family. But it was much more about the feasting and time with family than anything else. Now though, he had a renewed sense of his ancestral faith and wondered in anticipation how this Passover would be different being with the teacher.

            After they had all settled down around the room and were reclining, they began the feasting. Laughter filled the air as the disciples talked amongst each other, taking pleasure in having an evening of privacy away from the crowds. The teacher quietly observed them, and soon the talking faded as the disciples became aware of his stillness. Then he looked around at each of them and said, “Truly I tell you, one of you will betray me.”
            There was a shocked silence as the disciples looked at one another. The teacher appeared agitated, and they were confused by this startling pronouncement in the midst of what was supposed to be a joyful banquet. All of them became greatly distressed and Peter turned to the teacher asking, really pleading him, saying, “Sure not I, Lord?” One after the other, all of the disciples asked him the same in anguished voices. After an eternal moment, the teacher answered them, “The one who has dipped his hand into the bowl with me will betray me.”

            It was an ambiguous response since they had all dipped their hands in the bowl as they shared the Passover meal together. Before they could ask again, the teacher went on, “For the Son of Man is going as it has been determined, but woe to that one by whom he is betrayed!” The disciples were speechless, and that unfamiliar feeling began rising in Peter’s stomach, the one he had felt the first time he met the teacher. Just moments ago he and the others were in an exultant mood, but now they were all subdued having lost their appetite for celebrating with the teacher’s burdensome words.

            A moment or an hour passed, Peter couldn’t be sure, and then the teacher interrupted the reverie. He took a loaf of bread, and after blessing it he broke it, gave it to the disciples, and said, “Take, eat; this is my body.”  Each of them received their piece and ate it, not understanding what he meant. His next words unsettled them even more. After taking a cup and giving thanks he said, “Drink from it, all of you; for this is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins.” The cup passed from disciple to disciple, as each one took a drink but still they could not comprehend his actions. Peter knew the teacher was passing something important down but was uncertain of how to respond.

            It was quiet again as they lay in the room in heavy presence. The teacher began singing his favorite hymn, and gradually all of the disciples joined in. It was a song of praise yet their voices had a somber quality about it. After the last verse, the teacher rose from his place and exited the room. Not knowing what else to do, the disciples also got up and went to follow him because that was their custom.

            Before long they were at the Mount of Olives, trailing after him on the road. The teacher stopped abruptly and turned to face them. His expression was sad as he said, “You will all become deserters because of me this night; for it is written, ‘I will strike the shepherd, and the sheep of the flock will be scattered.’ But after I am raised up, I will go ahead of you to Galilee.” None of the disciples knew what to say this second time either that the teacher spoke such condemning words. But Peter started to get angry.

            “Though all become deserters because of you, I will never desert you!” He spoke without thinking as his emotions spilled out of him. His head was in a whirlwind as he felt both desperate and mad. He thought they had turned a corner when they arrived in Jerusalem, but now the teacher was headed down a path that was fatalistic for everyone. How could the teacher speak in such a manner when just hours earlier they were surrounded by awed crowds of people in the temple?

            But he looked at Peter gravely and said, “Truly I tell you, this very night, before the cock crows, you will deny me three times.” Now Peter was outraged and offended—he was loyal to a fault and to have suggested three times in one night that he would be anything otherwise was too much. Hadn’t he left everything to follow the teacher? He retorted back to the teacher, “Even though I must die with you, I will not deny you!” The other disciples joined in with him, vehemently declaring their allegiance while the teacher simply listened.

            Finally he turned and continued walking on, eventually entering the garden of Gethsemane. He told the other disciples to sit, but took Peter, James, and John with him further into a grove of trees. The teacher became even more distressed and agitated and Peter’s anger turned into fear. “I am deeply grieved, even to death; remain here, and keep awake.” Then he walked deeper into the garden, leaving the trio of disciples alone.

            They sat down and Peter realized how drained he was. It had been a roller coaster of a day and now, late into the evening, he only had a tree and hard ground to rest against. Time seemed to stand still as they waited for the teacher to return from wherever he had gone, and Peter’s eyes began to grow heavy with fatigue.

            A voice was in his head, and as he awoke he realized that he had fallen asleep. “Simon, are you asleep? Could you not keep awake one hour? Keep awake and pray that you may not come into the time of trial; the spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak.” The teacher was standing over him and then leaving again. He looked around and saw that James and John were also asleep just a little ways from him. Peter struggled to his feet, but then sat down again as the teacher was already gone. He tried to pray but exhaustion overtook him once more.

            This time the voice was much sharper and Peter bolted to his feet before he was even fully awake. “Are you still sleeping and taking your rest? See, the hour is at hand, and the Son of Man is betrayed into the hands of sinners. Get up, let us be going. See, my betrayer is at hand!” As Peter became fully conscious, he saw that they were no longer alone as a crowd of men was making their way severely over with clubs and swords. Judas, one of the other disciples, was ahead of the mob and rushed over to the teacher saying, “Rabbi!” as he kissed him.

            Suddenly the crowd was upon them all and several men surrounded the teacher. Peter realized that they were about to arrest him and he reacted swiftly. Grabbing a sword, he swung towards the man closest to the teacher and struck off his ear. Before he could swing again, however, the teacher was rebuking him saying, “Put your sword back into its sheath. Am I not to drink the cup that the Father has given me?” Surprised, Peter dropped the sword and before he could do anything else the men had arrested and bound the teacher.

            Chaos broke out and all the disciples fled the garden. Peter ducked behind a grove, and when the mob started on their way with their catch, he carefully followed from a distance. He recognized some of the faces as religious leaders and temple authorities, the same ones who had been lurking around the teacher earlier in the week. They made their way to a house near the temple, and stopped in the large courtyard. Peter went and sat across the way by a fire so he could see what would happen.

            There were many people milling about the courtyard, curious about what was going on. Peter tried to be as inconspicuous as possible, but he noticed that he kept getting stares. Then a servant-girl, standing a little ways from him, pointed directly at him and said to the people around her, “This man also was with him.” Caught off guard, Peter quickly responded, “Woman, I do not know him.” He stood up and walked away from the fire, trying to shake off their glances.

            After he saw that the group had left, he returned to the fire and sat down. He could see the teacher across the way, his hands bound and surrounded by guards. As he strained to get a closer look, he heard someone behind him say, “You also are one of them.” Whirling around he hastily got to his feet and backed away again from the fire, saying, “Man, I am not!” This time he exited the courtyard and started walking around the perimeter, trying to figure out what to do.

            An hour later, he decided to risk entering the courtyard again to see what was going on with the teacher. There were more people gathered now, so many that Peter could hardly see him. He made his way towards the crowd but noticed the servant-girl from earlier staring at him again. She said something to a group of men who also turned to stare, and then one of them said loudly, “Surely this man also was with him; for he is a Galilean.” Others also turned to look at him and Peter began to panic. “Man, I do not know what you are talking about!”

            At that moment, while he was still speaking, a cock crowed drowning out his words. The teacher turned and looked at Peter, their eyes locking. The prediction came flooding back into his mind, how the teacher had said, “Before the cock crows today, you will deny me three times.” A violent blow from one of the guard’s club broke their gaze as they began beating the teacher. Peter felt crushed and he rushed out of the courtyard with the sounds of the mob jeering in his ears. He ran as fast as he could, not knowing where he was going, and then in a desolate place, he collapsed onto the ground and wept bitterly.

* * *

            Somehow Peter found his way back to the room where they had been celebrating the Passover. A few of the other disciples were there and as the hours passed, more returned. His brother Andrew came and together they sat in silence. Peter didn’t know if it had been minutes or years, but eventually James and John’s mother entered into the room and reported the devastating news. The teacher had been executed, crucified upon a cross. Screams and wailing filled the room as Peter’s whole body shook uncontrollably from the pain he felt searing into his heart. It was all over and he was swallowed in grief and despair.

* * *

            Three days later, the disciples had just barely managed to pick themselves up off the floor. The previous days had been a nightmare of horrible news as the details of the teacher’s death trickled in from various sources. There was also a growing fear along with their sorrow because rumors swirled about the headhunting religious leaders. Apparently they had issued a warning to the citizens of Jerusalem to bring anyone associated with the teacher directly to them. Most of the disciples were trying to make rapid plans on how to depart from the city, but wanted to pay their respects to the teacher at the tomb he was buried in before they left.

            Peter and Andrew were getting ready to leave when a group of women rushed into the room. Peter knew they had gone already to the tomb, getting up earlier than the rest of the disciples so they could anoint the body and lay the teacher properly to rest. He was thankful they had gone to prepare the teacher because he could not bear to see him otherwise, it was distressing enough.

            But just as Peter and his brother had finished packing their bags, James and John motioned them over. The other disciples were trying to calm the women down, they were in such a state of frenzy. One of them had even fainted. When Mary Magdalene saw Peter, she made a beeline for him and kept exclaiming, “He’s gone, he’s gone!”  Immediately that uncertain feeling began to rise in Peter’s stomach. He tried to understand what had happened as the women related their stories, speaking of angels and an empty tomb. Finally he gathered that they had seen a vision, telling them that the teacher had risen.

            When the other disciples realized what the women were saying, they became scornful and did not believe them. They thought the trauma of the past few days had taken its toll and now the women were becoming delusional in their suffering. But Peter’s heart caught in his throat, and he quickly grabbed his bag and left the room. He ran as fast as he could, trying to remember the directions he had heard about how to get to the tomb.

            Could it be? He racked his mind, trying to recall the teacher’s words to them. So many times he had blown the teacher off whenever he began speaking about his imminent death. Peter did not want to hear about suffering and defeat, but towards the end the teacher had become adamant. But if the teacher was alive now, his words had a whole new meaning. If he wasn’t in the tomb, then everything was changed.

             He arrived at a small garden, the place belonging to Joseph of Arimathea. This was it according to the women. He followed the path and reached the tomb, hewn into the rock. A large stone was pushed aside, and the entrance wide open.

            Peter stood there, his breath held as he tried not to think the unthinkable. At last he forced himself to step through his fear and into the tomb. There was no one there; it was empty of everything except some neatly folded linen cloths lying on a stone bench. He was amazed and then the women’s excited words echoed through his head, “He is risen! He is risen! The Lord is alive!”

            Joy and anxiety both began to flood over Peter. Suddenly he knew exactly what to do. The teacher’s words came back to him about meeting up back at his home: “But after I am raised up, I will go before you to Galilee.”  Peter turned away from the empty tomb, and exited the garden. He was going home, back to the Sea of Galilee and he couldn’t wait to see the teacher. His whole body trembled as he breathed in this new reality and hope. “He is risen,” Peter said softly to himself, and then beginning to run he shouted triumphantly, “He is risen! My Lord is alive! Christ has risen, indeed!”

This sermon continues the series, "Growing With Peter." It is based on Matthew 16:13-26.

          This was a new feeling for Simon Peter. A deep sense of belonging had taken root in him with the knowledge of the teacher’s love. After he had walked on water and been saved from drowning, Peter was confident that the teacher was for real, the one the prophets had spoken of. It was an amazing realization for him, shaping a new reality for Peter as he moved about under the teacher’s watch and care. Traveling around the region of Galilee, the past uncertainties he had held about his own future seemed to fade away—somehow he knew that the teacher would provide for him.

            With his growing relationship with the teacher, Peter found himself more and more becoming the leader of the other disciples. It was a natural position for him, as the other men had gravitated towards him back when he was a fisherman. Peter liked being the spokesperson, and despite his limited religious credentials he was now seen by others as one of the more devoted followers of the teacher.

            The group of them had journeyed through many of the lakeside villages, and so the teacher decided to head north, away from the sea. Peter did not often trek far from home, but was excited about the teacher’s next move. He had already experienced many of his miracles, a couple of them even personally. Recalling the time the teacher had healed his mother-in-law as well as the bountiful catch of fish that led him to leave everything behind, Peter expected that whatever lay ahead was sure to be even more impressive than the past displays of power.

            After a few days on the road, they entered into the district of Caesarea Philippi. Peter had heard of the region from others, but had never been there himself. It was a popular destination because of its impressive geographical beauty and bustling commerce. Located in the foothills of Mt. Hermon, the city boasted many temples to the Greek god, Pan, and in fact was also known as Panias because so many people worshipped the god there. Everywhere the disciples and teacher traveled, they saw tributes to the half-man, half-goat god Pan.

            Peter and the other disciples were absorbed in the sights all around them, admiring the lush vineyards and orchards. Soon they came to a gushing spring and stopped to take a break. As they were resting, many people passed them toting offerings on their way to worship Pan. The teacher rose and started walking in the same direction so the disciples got up to follow.

            After walking through a forest, they came to a large cave carved into a sheer rock face that was over a 1000 feet high. The spring of water seemed to originate from deep within the cave, and many people were casting their sacrifices to the god Pan into it. Peter looked up and saw tributes to the god carved out on the rock above them—they had come to one of the sacred temples of Pan.

            As he was taking in the whole scene, the teacher began to address him and the other disciples. “Who do people say that the Son of Man is?” The Son of Man, it was the term that the teacher had been using to identify himself. Here, in the midst of the temple of Pan, the teacher was asking them what the consensus was by the larger public about who he was. It was a stark contrast between the stone carvings of Pan and the flesh and blood teacher.

            A few of the men spoke up saying, “Some say John the Baptist, but others Elijah, and still others Jeremiah or one of the prophets.” Of course there had been buzz all around the region about the teacher. Many of the crowds who had come out to see him were convinced he was a prophet, but they debated about which one.

Then Simon Peter spoke up boldly, “You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God!” The words were out of his mouth before he could even really think; it seemed to have almost been a gut reaction to the question. The teacher looked at him with a smile and said to him, “Blessed are you, Simon son of Jonah! For flesh and blood has not revealed this to you, but my Father in heaven.” Simon Peter was surprised to hear the teacher call him by his family name because he had been identified as Peter since he had left home. He remembered the day his brother Andrew had led him out into the wilderness, the first time he had laid eyes on the teacher. Out there, the teacher had already known and identified him as Simon son of Jonah but then he had told him that he was to be called Peter, which meant rock. He was confused by the incident but had since forgotten about it. Now he was reminded and wondered again—why had he renamed him? The teacher seemed to know him in a way that even Simon Peter did not know.

As if he knew exactly what Simon Peter was thinking, the teacher spoke to him again saying, “And I tell you, you are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church, and the gates of Hades will not prevail against it.  I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven, and whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth will be loosed in heaven.” Standing under the huge rock, Peter felt a rush of exhilaration and was taken aback by the teacher’s pronouncement.

He had spent his whole life as a fisherman and very little time studying the scriptures or attending synagogue. His brother Andrew was the religious one. Yet here the teacher was proclaiming that Peter had a major role in his church and giving him special authority to lead it. Peter, the rock—he soaked in the new name given to him by the teacher. He realized that it was not by coincidence that the teacher had reasserted his name in this place, the rocky alcove filled with tributes to the god Pan. Simon Peter was being instructed by the teacher to fish for others, people like the ones bringing offerings to Pan. He was no longer to spend his time catching fish, instead he was to focus on catching people.

Days later, Peter was still relishing the special blessing and charge he had received. His newfound faith opened him to an increasing intimacy with the teacher as he shared all his thoughts and feelings. Whatever was on his mind and heart, whether it was worries about his family at home or trying to understand a new teaching, Peter found comfort in telling him. He was confident in the teacher and his own designated role given to him back in Caesarea Philippi.

But then the teacher began saying things that made Peter uncomfortable. Rather than staying in the region of Galilee, he wanted to go to Jerusalem. The disciples had already experienced the grilling that the elders, chief priests, and scribes had extended towards the teacher whenever they had the chance. Most of the disciples were like Peter, unschooled in the ways of the religious elite. It was no secret that these folks were just waiting for an opportunity to denounce the teacher as a false prophet so it was with good reason that Peter was wary.

Going to Jerusalem meant inevitable contact with the elders, chief priests, and scribes since that was their primary domain. Peter was never one to shy from a conflict or fight, but what the teacher spoke about seriously disturbed him. The plan didn’t entail any victorious showdowns, but instead he kept saying that he was going to be handed over to the religious authorities to suffer greatly, so much so that he would be killed.

Peter was flabbergasted. This made no sense to him—how could anything good come from the teacher being dead? Just when he had being growing close to him and confident of his power, the teacher was now switching course and deliberately walking into a death trap. And what about him—what about all the promises he had made about Peter being the rock and leading the church? How could he do that without the teacher’s presence?

He decided that he needed to confront the teacher. Though it had been less than one year since that fateful meeting in the wilderness, Peter could not imagine life without his Lord. And this was so out of character from his demonstrations of power. He felt something was off and that it was time to bring some sense to it all.

One evening, when the teacher was again telling the disciples that he must go to Jerusalem and undergo great suffering at the hands of the elders and chief priests and scribes, and be killed, Peter interrupted and took him aside. He was mad and had heard enough so he began to rebuke the teacher saying, “God forbid it, Lord! This must never happen to you!”

Peter was going on as they were walking side by side, when the teacher stopped suddenly and turned sharply to face him. The look on the teacher’s face stopped Peter mid-sentence and he fell silent immediately. Fixing his eyes directly on him, the teacher said, “Get behind me, Satan! You are a stumbling block to me; for you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things!”

The words hit Peter like a slap in the face. He dropped his head from the intense stare, and after a moment the teacher walked away, leaving Peter to digest what had just happened. Only a few days earlier Peter had been called a founding rock and now he was named a stumbling block. The teacher’s impossible teachings came back to him, the ones he found incomprehensible and even a bit ludicrous. He could hear him now, speaking to the other disciples the same message again.

“If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.   For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it.”

Peter sank to the ground, hurt and confused. The intensity of the teacher’s words and expression were seared into his mind as he tried to make sense of why he had been rebuked. For awhile now the teacher had been speaking of the suffering and death he would be facing, and with each passing day his resolve seemed to grow stronger. Peter could not understand this which was why he had confronted him. The teacher was powerful and able to rally crowds together—why was he so insistent that things had to end in such a dreadful manner?

The way that the teacher had looked at Peter haunted him. It was a mixture of angst and fury, and it was clear that he was determined to end any more complaints or arguments about the path he had made up his mind to follow. Peter mulled it over and over. What did it mean to take up his cross and follow the teacher? How was he supposed to be the rock the teacher had named him if he was steadfastly marching towards a death trap? What were the divine things he needed to set his mind on instead of human things? Eventually Peter fell asleep exhausted.

He woke up to a gentle shaking of his shoulder, and groggily looked up to see the teacher’s face waking him up. There was no anger left, only compassion and peace. He extended his hand to Peter, pulling him up from the ground, simply saying, “Come.”  Peter did not know what lay ahead, but felt certain that he wanted to stay with the teacher. It was enough for the moment and so he gathered his things up again, and left to follow him.

This sermon continues the "Growing with Peter" series. It is based on Matthew 14:22-33.

* * *

            Simon Peter was exhausted. Lying in the hull of the boat, every bone ached from the months spent away from home following the teacher. He was having second thoughts about his decision to leave his fishing business, and wondered what he had gotten himself into. He replayed some of the events, trying to make sense of it all.

            The first few weeks Peter found himself constantly astounded by the teacher’s powers. After healing more sick people in his village, the teacher decided to leave for another town. He got into one of Peter’s fishing boats and they set off to the other side of the lake. It was like his daily work routine, his fishing partners with him, only the teacher’s presence made it clear that they were not on the water to search for a catch of fish. Peter had rarely spent time on the lake apart from fishing, and he found himself strangely disoriented on his own boat without all his nets and equipment.

            While Peter and the other disciples steered the boat, the teacher settled himself down and went to sleep. An hour passed and the lake started to get choppy as the wind picked up. Scouting the dark storm clouds on the horizon, Peter and his partners discussed the fastest way to reach the western shore. A couple of hours later they were still far from their destination and being buffeted by gale force winds. Amazingly, the teacher slept on despite the heavy rocking of the boat and splashing water.

            Peter had been through many storms before and was confident in his abilities to safely navigate his boat. But as the dark clouds surrounded them and waves grew increasingly rough, the other disciples became visibly anxious. Peter, trying to stay calm, struggled against the wind to control the boat. It was useless, however, and seawater began pouring into it. Rocking turned to severe rolls and it was all the disciples could do to stay onboard. The sea tossed the boat around like a child’s toy, emptying itself of cargo while Peter and the others desperately clung onto its sides, terrified of falling overboard.

            The noise of the storm was deafening, and though the men were shouting Peter could not make out the words. He saw one of them pointing towards the rear end of the boat, and was shocked to see the teacher, still asleep despite the violent squalls assailing them. He could not believe that in the chaos the teacher even remained in the boat since he could barely hang on. All of the men, Peter included, were stumbling their way over towards the figure. Their voices were drowned by the roaring of the sea, but as each man reached the teacher, their collective cry sounded out into the air, “Lord, save us! We are perishing!”

            Through the spray of water, Peter could see that his eyes were open. No hint of panic or worry appeared on his face as the boat continued to sway violently. The teacher looked around at the disciples, his eyes pausing momentarily on each one. Then he murmured, hardly audible, “Why are you afraid, you of little faith?” Then he stood up effortlessly in the shuddering boat, facing the open water with raised hands, and commanded the storm to cease. Immediately the winds stopped and the boat came to a rest as the sea became dead calm.

            The disciples were amazed and said to one another, “What sort of man is this, that even the winds and the sea obey him?” They did not have much time to chew it over as the boat arrived at their destination and the teacher was quickly on his way. The next few weeks were a blur of more miraculous displays of the teacher’s power. He healed sick people, gave sight to the blind, cast out demons, he even raised a dead girl to life! Peter’s confidence in the teacher grew with each demonstration of his abilities to do what no other person could. He began to think that his brother Andrew might be right, that the teacher was the Messiah who would deliver the Jews from Roman occupation.

            Just as Peter began to put faith into this idea, however, the teacher began saying difficult things. He was preparing the disciples to spread the word around the region of Galilee, and warned them that they would be arrested by the governing authorities. Peter didn’t understand—why would anyone want to stop them from healing people and making them well? The teacher went on to say that they would be flogged and persecuted, all because of their association with him.

            Then he said something that made Peter’s stomach turn. “Brother will betray brother to death, and a father his child, and children will rise against parents and have them put to death;  ²² and you will be hated by all because of my name…Do not think that I have come to bring peace to the earth; I have not come to bring peace, but a sword.  ³⁵ For I have come to set a man against his father, and a daughter against her mother, and a daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law;  ³⁶ and one's foes will be members of one's own household.  ³⁷ Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me; and whoever loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me;  ³⁸ and whoever does not take up the cross and follow me is not worthy of me. Those who find their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it.”

            Peter was shocked. He thought he had already given up so much, leaving behind his fishing business, but now the teacher was demanding a ridiculous commitment. He couldn’t imagine turning against Andrew, his own brother. He couldn’t fathom not honoring his parents as they deserved to be. And he certainly could not conceive of himself getting anywhere near a cross, the horrific and cruel instrument that the Romans had invented to execute people. What kind of crazy teaching was this anyway?

            His doubts about the teacher intensified when some old friends of Andrew came and found them one day. The men were disciples of the bug man, John the Baptist, and they had been sent to find out some information. John had been thrown in prison by King Herod, they reported, and he had just one question for the teacher. “Are you the one who is to come, or are we to wait for another?” Andrew was noticeably disturbed, and Peter remembered how his brother had been so convinced by his time in the desert with John that he too had left everything to follow the teacher. Was his old mentor having second thoughts as well?

            As Peter mulled these things over, the teacher continued to talk in mysterious metaphors only making him more confused. In addition, he had stopped doing any miracles making Peter wonder if the past displays of power were just a dream, perhaps some forces of coincidence that made him see something more than was really there. And then bad news came.

            Early one morning as they were getting ready to set out, Andrew’s old friends arrived again. The same ones as before, and it was clear something was wrong. In distraught voices, they reported to the teacher that John had been murdered, beheaded by King Herod, and they had just managed to recover his body to give it a proper burial. Andrew began to wail and the sounds of mourning were joined by his friends. Peter was caught between fear and concern for his brother, desperately wanting to return home but unsure of what to do.

            He tried to comfort his brother, sitting in shocked silence while Andrew and John’s disciples lay prostrate, their bodies heaving from the sobs. Hours later, Peter saw a crowd approaching and he realized that at some point the teacher had withdrawn but was now returning to them with a multitude of people following him. He couldn’t believe it as this was hardly the time to be dealing with anyone, but there was nowhere to go to escape the masses since evening was fast upon them. After conferring with some of the other disciples, they decided to put forward a suggestion, really a strong request to the teacher that he send the crowd away. It seemed reasonable given the circumstances.

            A group of them approached the teacher, who was surrounded by all sorts of sick and lame people. They said to him, “This is a deserted place, and the hour is now late; send the crowds away so that they may go into the villages and buy food for themselves.” It was as tactful as they could manage, when they all felt it was ludicrous to have thousands of people expecting them to do something in the midst of their grief. Surely the teacher could appreciate their distress.

            But instead of agreeing, he responded, “They need not go away; you give them something to eat.” Stunned, the disciples looked at one another in disbelief. Did he expect them to make the trek into town to buy food for all these people, because they barely had enough to feed themselves. “We have nothing here but five loaves and two fish,” they implored him, their nerves shot from the last 24 hours. “Bring them here to me,” the teacher commanded. Peter did not know how much more he could handle. The extreme teachings, the death of John, and now their basic necessities taken away—he wanted out, now.

            An extraordinary thing happened though that stopped Peter short. Before he could gather Andrew and their things up to leave, the teacher was blessing and breaking the bread, handing them out to the other disciples. As he gave Peter a heavy basket overflowing with fish, the teacher looked at him intently and Peter was reminded of his once sinking boat that had been overloaded with fish. He took the basket and started making his way amidst the families, offering as much fish as each person wanted to take knowing that there would be plenty more.

            Finally, everyone seemed satisfied and the disciples collected the leftovers into twelve baskets. The teacher turned his attention to them and immediately made them pack up their belongings. He stood waiting by the boat, and it was clear to Peter that he expected them to get onboard right away, despite the late hour. After the last of them boarded, the teacher simply said, “Go,” and pushed them off and then returned to the crowds to dismiss them.  

            And so there Peter was, lying with the other disciples in the boat exhausted after the day’s events. After all his thoughts of leaving the teacher, Peter now had no idea where he had gone after dismissing the multitudes of people. The wind had picked up and propelled the boat far from shore. He fell asleep wondering how and when they would meet up with the teacher again.

            It was early dawn when one of the disciples began to holler. Peter sat up to see what the commotion was all about. Straining to see what everyone was looking at, he saw in the distance a figure hovering over the water. At first he thought it might be a bird, but as it drew closer it was clear that it was the shape of a person. “It is a ghost!” one of the men cried out, and the rest of them were sent into a terrified frenzy.

            A voice, however, broke through their fear and enfolded them in familiar words. “Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid.”  Peter leaned hard over the edge of the boat to try and make out the figure. His mind was racing with all the possibilities—could it be the teacher? Was he really the one the prophets had spoken of or was he just fooling himself into thinking so? How could he be certain that it was really worth leaving everything behind—his home, fishing business, family—to follow this person?

            On an impulse, Peter blurted out to the approaching figure, “Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.” The other disciples were flustered at his sudden outburst and attempted to persuade him to sit back down in the boat. Just wait, they pleaded, just wait and see what happens. But the voice summoned Peter, saying, “Come.”

            And so Peter swung his legs over the side, his eyes fixed upon the figure. His heart was pounding in his head as he took the first step. As he felt the solid pressure pushing under his foot, adrenaline shot through him and he began walking boldly on the water towards the figure. After about ten steps, he was close enough to make out the features of the teacher. The weight of this realization made him falter—it was the teacher, with all his incredible powers and all his impossible demands. Why had he left the boat and the company of all the other disciples? Peter glanced around him and noticed the strong wind whipping the waves about his feet. He became aware of how vulnerable he was, out alone in the sea, and the panic started to rise into his throat.

            He wanted to turn around and get back into the boat, but he was too far away. He began to sink into the lake, the frigid water making him gasp from its bite on his flesh. He saw the teacher’s figure and instantly, without hesitation, cried out to him, “Lord, save me!” Peter immediately felt a strong arm lifting him up and he found himself under the intensely tender gaze of his Lord. He said softly to him, “You of little faith, why did you doubt?”  Then the teacher firmly took his hand and led him back to the boat where the rest of the disciples were waiting to pull Peter back in.

            As soon as they were both safely aboard, the wind ceased as if it were responding yet again to the teacher’s divine presence. Peter knew this second time was no coincidence, and there was only one appropriate response. Gratitude flooded over any lingering uncertainty and he fell down to his knees with the other men to worship the teacher, saying, “Truly you are the Son of God!”

 

This sermon is in the Lenten series, "Growing With Peter." It is based on John 1:35-42, Luke 4:38-42, & Luke 5:1-11.

"As I see it, we will never succeed in knowing ourselves unless we seek to know God." --Teresa of Avila

            If somebody asked the question, “Who are you?” how would you answer? Perhaps you would tell them you’re a student or maybe you’d say where you worked. For those of you with Facebook accounts, you might tell them to look at your profile to find out not just your stats, but everything you’re into with pictures to illustrate. Of course, who you are might change on a daily basis, depending on what’s going on in your life. Here on campus, it seems there are many different roles you can try out. Who are you? Sometimes it’s the million dollar question.             

     We are in our Lenten Series, “Growing with Peter,” and each week we are taking a closer look at this one disciple’s faith journey. Today I’m going to be telling a story about him, using what we know from the various Gospels in the Bible, but also using my own imagination to paint a picture of the character Peter. I have taken creative license to flesh out the various incidents that we find in the scriptures to help bring his story to life. In reflecting upon who Peter was we may be able to step back and get a clearer sense of who we are. As we learn about this disciple of Jesus’, I invite you to imagine yourself walking in his shoes. Listen for your own story as we contemplate his.

* * *

            Simon was a strong man, some might say stubborn. Raised by the Sea of Galilee, he and his brother Andrew spent their childhood years playing and fighting together as siblings often do. Confident as a youth and sometimes rash in his behavior, the other village boys naturally gravitated towards Simon, following his lead both into games and mischief. Andrew’s temperament was a bit meeker, and the other kids would on occasion tease him. But Simon, stronger, braver and always loyal, was quick to defend his brother and no one dared to cross him for fear of the consequences.

            As the brothers grew older, they remained close as friends but their interests began to diverge. Andrew took after his mother, a bit more quiet and sensitive to those around him. He listened eagerly to the stories of his Jewish ancestors, and asked many questions about the temple in Jerusalem. Simon, more a person of action, loved to watch the men of the village down by the lake. Soon enough he began helping his father and uncles work the fishing boats, soaking up the attention he received from the other men who would often comment on how strong he was for his age. He quickly took to the craft and his young hands grew thick callous’ from spending long nights manning the fishing nets as he searched for a large catch.

            As time went on and the brothers grew older, Simon and Andrew began spending less time together. Andrew’s religious devotion meant he was often at the synagogue listening to the teachings of the local rabbi. Despite his limited education and background, he had started to read a bit of the prophetic scrolls for himself. Simon, never understanding his brother’s fascination with matters of the temple, preferred to shoot the breeze with the other fishermen swapping stories about their adventures on the sea.

            But the brothers remained devoted to each other, even if their days looked quite different. When their parents decided it was time for Simon to marry and take over the family business, it was Andrew’s suggestion of a certain young maiden that ultimately became Simon’s wife. Andrew worked hard to help his brother and wife start their new life together, building a home and getting them settled into the daily rhythms of being a family in the village. He was always reminding Simon to observe the Jewish festivals, and urged him to go to synagogue more often.

            Though he loved his brother, Simon for the most part did not care to spend much of his time on religious matters and instead focused his energy on running the fishing boats. Years passed, and Simon’s reputation grew as a successful fisherman. He worked hard every night, and soon he had enough to buy another boat and bring on some other men to work for him. Villagers would tell of the time that Simon dived into the freezing lake to rescue a fellow fisherman who had fallen overboard. Or about his amazing ability to sense where the fish were and bring in a catch when other boats would come back empty. Simon became known as one of the leading fishermen not just in his own village, but also among neighboring towns along the lake.

            Meanwhile, Andrew began talking about strange things. In fact, Simon was growing a bit worried about his brother. Some time ago there had been some buzz among the village people about a man out in the desert who ate wild locusts. At first Simon just scoffed as he and his partners would make disparaging comments about the “bug man” who was crazy in the wilderness. He disdained men who didn’t work hard to provide for their families.

            But then he discovered that Andrew had been going out to see the so called bug man. One evening, when Andrew was having dinner with him and his wife, he confronted him. Rumors had been swirling around that a small band of people were now spending a lot of time in the desert, following after the bug man. “Actually”, Andrew told him, “I’ve been baptized by him and have become one of his disciples.” The brothers exchanged some tense words, and then finally dropped the subject after a sharp look from Simon’s wife.

            Months went by and Andrew’s devotion to the bug man, called John the Baptist, only grew stronger. At best, Simon would manage to hold his tongue while Andrew went on and on about the prophecies. He couldn’t understand why his brother was doing this, and sometimes he would get frustrated with how he was wasting all his time in the desert instead of helping with the family business. Especially lately because Simon’s luck seemed to be running out. He was barely getting enough fish to keep the two boats he owned running and wondering if he might need to let some of his workers go. His days weren’t as busy since there had been less fish caught and therefore less to be sold.

            Then one day Andrew came to Simon very agitated. “The one, the one the prophets have spoken about, the Messiah—I think I’ve found him!” He was so worked up that Simon couldn’t really understand him. The other fishermen were staring at them, empty nets hanging from their hands. Unable to really calm him down and talk some sense into Andrew, Simon finally agreed to go meet this man out of concern for his brother.

            Tired, irritated, and feeling a bit belligerent, Simon was working up some choice words for his sibling. Andrew was leading him out to the desert in the middle of a workday, and he had left his boats unclean and unready for the next shift. Who was this man that had made his brother so unreasonable? Didn’t he know that their lives were already busy and that somebody had to attend to the family business? What kind of person spent all their time in the wilderness doing God-knows-what instead of something productive for the village? First it was the bug man they called John the Baptist, now his brother was rambling on about the Messiah. It was just too much for Simon and he was ready to finally straighten out not just his brother, but anyone else who got in his way.

            He saw a small crowd in the distance, huddled around a figure that seemed to be teaching. As he drew closer, Simon cleared his throat, ready to confront the so-called Messiah. But with each step he took, Simon grew a bit unsure. There was an unfamiliar feeling rising in his stomach, and he suddenly didn’t feel so sure and confident. All his life he had been a bold person, but now he found himself at a loss for words. He stopped just short of the group and stared at the man, Andrew beside him.

            And then the so-called Messiah looked directly at him in a way that Simon had never been looked at before. “You are Simon son of Jonah. You are to be called Peter.” Their eyes locked, and then the moment passed and the teacher went on addressing the group. Andrew was saying something excitedly to Simon, but he didn’t really hear him. He felt confused, still a little belligerent, but not sure of what had just happened. It was like this man had seen a part of him that even he was unaware of—yet how could that be? Without uttering a single word, Simon turned around and headed back to the village trying to shake it off. Back by the lake, he threw himself into the work of preparing the boats for the evening shift of fishing.

            A couple of weeks passed and Simon’s routine of running the boats at night continued while Andrew now spent almost all his time following after the so-called Messiah. Privately Simon had told his wife about the incident, of how the man had somehow known his name, his father’s name, and then strangely had called him by a new name, Peter which means rock. Neither of them really knew what to make of it, and so Simon tried to forget about it and concentrate his energies on improving the family business. It was what he knew and who he was—a fisherman.

            One morning though, his wife came to him anxious about her mother. Simon’s mother-in-law had been living with them since her husband had died. She had complained about not feeling well the past few days, and he had spent some extra time at the market trading the fish for some medicine. He left his partners to finish cleaning up the boats and hurried back to the house with his wife. His mother-in-law was lying in bed, flushed and moaning. She was barely conscious and breathing shallowly. Unsure of what to do, he began pacing back and forth. Clearly the medicine had not worked, and she seemed to be getting worse with each passing minute.

             Finally, out of desperation, he began to recite some of the scriptures. He struggled to remember them, wishing that Andrew were there. “The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want.” His wife had begun crying, and he did not notice one of the servant girls had left the house. “He makes me lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside still waters.” Simon’s mother-in-law seemed to quiet a bit, so he searched his mind for the rest of the words. “He restores my soul. He leads me in right paths for his name’s sake.” Simon did not notice the growing murmur approaching his house, as the familiar psalm became a prayer. “Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I fear no evil; for you are with me.”

            At that moment, the man was beside him stretching his hand out over his mother-in-law and uttering things that Simon could not comprehend. He watched, as if in a dream, his mother-in-law rise from the bed and thank the teacher with a kiss on each cheek. There was noise all around him as the crowd that had entered into Simon’s house pressed in to get closer. As if from nowhere, suddenly there appeared many sick villagers whom sought out the man’s healing. Simon was again at a loss for words, and simply sat down and watched the unfolding drama, his mind blank. At some point Andrew was there, excitedly speaking to his wife and mother-in-law. Time seemed to stand still, as people came and went, his house the center of miraculous activity. Then the man was moving, heading out the door and Simon realized that hours had gone by and it was now dawn.

            Somehow Simon roused himself from his trance, wondering for a second time what had just happened. As the days passed, word of the teacher’s healings spread and many people from all over Galilee came to the village. Strangers would stand outside his house, pointing eagerly and talking about the miracles. He no longer felt belligerent, but Simon was unsure of what to think. Twice now this man had crossed his path and both times Simon was left feeling uncertain about himself, something he was not used to. So he worked even harder at his fishing business, because it was the one thing that he did know about himself—he was a fisherman.

            The teacher remained in their village and the crowds grew larger and larger. But Simon went on about his usual routine, fishing at night and trading during the day. Business still wasn’t doing great, and several evenings the boats would come back empty. Simon resolved to work harder, trying to maintain his reputation as a good fisherman, all the while keeping his distance from the crowds and teacher.

            Then one morning, after a particularly long night, Simon caught sight of the crowds heading towards the lake. Looking around, he realized that the teacher was right by him and the boats. It was strange how the teacher always seemed to be suddenly present by him—it was unnerving though he was beginning to get used to it. He did not, however, want to be among the crowds who had taken to following and swarming around the teacher. He was not one of them. So he quickened his cleaning of the boats and nets, stepping out onto the shore so he could make his getaway before all the people arrived.

            But then something unexpected happened. The man stepped into his boat just as he stepped off. Before he could say anything, the teacher asked him to put out from shore a little ways. Looking at the nearing crowd and his now occupied boat, Simon decided he couldn’t leave his boat, the source of his whole livelihood and for that matter, his whole identity with this strange man. He stepped back into his boat and pushed off because he too did not want to be pressed by the crowds of people.

            Now he was stuck, sitting with the man as he taught the crowds from the boat. This was not what he had in mind and he wondered how long before he could reclaim his boat. Finally the crowds seemed ready to leave, either because they were satisfied by the teaching or bored because the man hadn’t produced any more miracles. When there were just a few people left, Simon lowered the oars back into the water, getting ready to row back to shore. However, the teacher interrupted him saying, “Put out into the deep water and let down your nets for a catch.”

            Simon was dumbfounded. It was nearly noon now, with the sun blazing overhead. Even people who weren’t fishermen knew that you didn’t go fishing during the day, because the fish could see the nets. And he was exhausted after being out all night and stuck all morning in his boat. He stood frozen, not sure what to do. Andrew’s words began to sound in his head, “The one, the one the prophets have spoken about, the Messiah—I think I’ve found him!” That feeling of uncertainty started to rise, making Simon uncomfortable again. Because he did not know what else to do, he answered him: “Master, we have worked all night long but have caught nothing. Yet if you say so, I will let down the nets.”

            After dropping the nets into the water, they quickly began to tug and pull. Surprised, Simon yanked on them to see what they were caught on. He quickly realized that there were fish in them, many fish. Straining to bring the catch on board, the nets began to tear. He couldn’t believe what was happening. His whole adult life he had prided himself on his fishing expertise, and here was this strange man who did not come from any sort of fishing background directing him to a huge catch. The teacher sat there calmly, watching him pull in fish after fish.

            Simon signaled for his partners to come with the other boat to help. Several minutes later the net showed no signs of being emptied as the fish continued to pour onto the boats. The other men, at first elated with the successful catch and forthcoming wealth, soon grew quiet as they kept pulling fish after fish out of the net. The uncertainty that was in Simon’s stomach began to turn into fear as his boat became heavier and heavier with the load. All his life, all he strived to be as a fisherman, suddenly seemed oppressive with the mounting catch surrounding him. Then his boat began to sink, so heavy was the burden of fish.

            In that moment Simon became overwhelmed. Who was he as a fisherman in light of this catch? What was he supposed to do with his life when the past months had been full of struggles to keep the family business going? As the water filled the boats, Simon snapped out of his reverie and saw that the man was still calmly sitting there, watching him. He suddenly felt like that rock, Peter, that the teacher had named him. A sinking rock as his whole identity was submerging him into the lake.

            He stumbled across the piles of fish and fell down at the man’s knees. He didn’t know what he wanted anymore but sensed that the teacher had incredible, terrifying power. Feeling crushed by the weight of the fish in his boat, he cried out to him, “Go away from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man!”
            And then the burden began to lift, with the water subsiding back into the lake and the boats stabilizing. As his breathing slowed, his vision also cleared and he looked all around him. There they were, hundreds and hundreds of fish, just lying there. The teacher stood up, reached out his hand to Simon Peter and said to him, “Do not be afraid; from now on you will be catching people.”

            Simon Peter took his hand and found himself off his knees, upright again facing the teacher. The boats were moving towards shore, filled with the miraculous catch of fish. With each stroke of the oar, Simon Peter knew that he was approaching a major decision. As the men docked the boats, the teacher stepped off and started walking away. Simon Peter looked at his boats, filled with fish, and then at the figure growing more distant.

            No longer afraid, but still feeling uncertain, Simon Peter found himself trailing after the man. All he knew lay back with those boats and fish, but the teacher’s invitation beckoned to him. What did the man mean that he would be fishing for people? Where was he taking him? With a growing sense that this person held his destiny, Peter felt sure that he had to go. It was beyond reason and logic, he simply knew deep within himself that his life’s meaning and purpose was wrapped up with the man. As he hurried his pace to catch up, he realized that his partners were a little ways behind him. Grateful for the company, Peter paused a moment so that he was no longer journeying alone. Then together, they left everything and followed him.

Ash Wednesday 2008 had to be cancelled due to inclement weather in Madison. So we held an Ash Sunday service instead... This sermon is based on Luke 5:1-11.

            They had been fishing all night and had caught nothing. A very disappointing night it must have been. As they are washing their nets and packing up to go home Jesus comes along with crowd of people. He gets into Simon Peter’s boat and asks Simon to push off back into the water. After teaching the crowd from the boat Jesus then asks Simon to put his nets back into the water. There was a reason that he and his colleagues fished at night and not during the day – the fish could see the nets during the day and would avoid swimming into them. They were called trammel nets and were made of linen making them visible in the water when it was light out. There was no point in fishing with these nets during the day. But despite this and despite the fact that they hadn’t caught anything during the normal nighttime fishing period, Simon Peter agrees to do as Jesus asks and put the nets back into the water. That is when God shows up. A miracle happens. They catch so many fish that the nets cannot hold them all and they begin to break. When the fish are hauled up into the boats the boats begin to sink. What should have been a totally fruitless endeavor ended up being the most amazing catch they had ever experienced.
 
            Sometimes we are blessed with the opportunity to notice God showing up in our lives in dramatic ways like this miraculous catch of fish. Even though God is at work in the world all the time it is often hard to see it. But sometimes we have moments when we know God is there. When we are amazed by God’s presence, God’s power, God’s love. When we experience God’s grace. For me these moments often happen when I am playing with my girls. When Sophie laughs in pure delight or Emma gives me the warmest hug – I am filled with joy and gratitude to God for the gift of my kids. These moments come when we are looking at the sunset over Lake Mendota from the Terrace or in the quiet of a fresh snowfall. They come when a friend remembers your birthday or forgives your forgetfulness. God’s grace is even there when all we can do is get through one more day because the weight of life is overwhelming. In the big and the small God shows up. The journey of our lives is full of God’s grace.

            Today is the first Sunday in the church season of Lent. Lent is 40 days long beginning on Ash Wednesday and ending on Easter. Historically the Christian church would teach and prepare new Christians during Lent to be baptized on Easter. This tradition evolved into the practice you may be familiar with today of giving something up for Lent – chocolate, alcohol, video games, whatever. The point of that practice is to help us focus, to help us remember the season and contemplate the act of God dying on the cross and the resurrection of Christ on Easter morning. The 40 days are associated with the 40 days Jesus spent in the desert being tempted by the Devil before launching his ministry to the world. Lent is a journey. It is journey to the cross – to the place of God’s ultimate act of grace. It is a journey to the resurrection – to the place of God’s ultimate act of victory. This Lenten season at Pres House we are going to journey through Lent with the apostle Simon Peter. Peter is full of faith and doubt. He did amazing things and very stupid things. Through it all we are going to be looking for God’s grace showing up in Peter’s life and ours.

            That journey began this past Wednesday – Ash Wednesday. Like the traffic on I-90 Wednesday night, however, our journey has been delayed by weather. So we are experiencing the elements of Ash Wednesday today, this first Sunday in Lent. The journey begins with taking stock of ourselves and our position in light of God’s grace. Simon Peter was overwhelmed with the miracle he experienced, with the power of God’s grace showing up in his life. He was overwhelmed by the catch of fish. And his response is immediate, sincere, and heartfelt. He falls down saying, “Go away from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man!" When faced with God’s grace, when shown the power of God Peter is struck by the vast difference between himself and Jesus. He is struck by the wonder of this man Jesus and admits that he, Simon Peter is sinful man. A man full of weaknesses and failings. The parts of him that are not holy and not clean are made visible in the light of the majesty of God. And so he confesses his sinfulness. He admits his failings. He is honest with himself and with God in the presence of his friends. He makes a confession.

            Our culture does not usually encourage confession of mistakes. When politicians, business people or athletes are brought before congress to testify about some alleged misstep they rarely confess to anything. “I do not recall this” and “I cannot remember that” has become the response of choice. Along with a denial of whatever act he or she is being accused of. And that makes a lot of sense. In our legal system if you confess to a crime you are then subject to punishment. Confession is one of the most straightforward ways to convict someone of a crime. One summer in junior high school I spent a lot of time watching old Perry Mason re-runs. Do you remember Perry Mason? Those black and white murder mystery shows where the savy defense attorney Perry Mason would protect the innocence of his client by proving the guilt of someone else. In many of the episodes Perry Mason would gather evidence and then circle like a tiger around witness in the courtroom until he drove them crazy with his smooth talk. The show would end with a wild and unexpected confession from someone other than his client. Sometimes the confession would even come from a person in the crowd watching the trial. Justice was served when he or she was then arrested and taken off to jail. That is how our criminal system works, and often works quite well -- confession leads to conviction. Our images of Jack Bauer beating a confession out of someone on 24 have caused us to see confession as a sure way to end up killed or in jail or at least disgraced by society. Confession is not often portrayed in a good light.

            But that is exactly what Peter does in this story. He confesses his sinfulness and his mistakes. When faced with the wonder of Jesus he responds with confession. But this is where the Kingdom of God differs dramatically from our legal system. Instead of leading to jail and imprisonment, confession in God’s Kingdom leads to freedom. It is here that Jesus begins his ministry of forgiveness. He responds to Peter’s confession with the words, “Do not be afraid.”  Instead of putting the handcuffs on him and leading him to jail, Jesus calls him to go out and share the good news – to become a fisherman of people. Instead of punishing Peter, Jesus forgives. He releases Peter to do great things. Peter’s confession frees him.
            
            I am not an expert on the Roman Catholic church but I think that there is something powerful about the act of confession that we don’t experience very much in the protestant church. That is why Ash Wednesday, or Ash Sunday as it may be, are critical dates on the calendar of faith. There is something important about admitting to God and to others the places that we fall short. Confession re-envisioned is freeing. It is freeing to be honest with ourselves and with others. To be honest with God. It is freeing to name the things in our lives that are not named. To bring out into the light the things that we keep in the dark. It is freeing to let down our barriers and take off our masks. To be real. Especially when we realize that God will not take that confession and use it to punish us or imprison us but to release us from bondage to ourselves and our mistakes. It is freeing to say, “I’m sorry.” Especially when we know that God forgives us.

Based on Micah 6:6-8 and 1 Corinthains 1:18-31          

Today we have the special treat of hearing some stories from two members of our community who did something a little different over the winter break. David and Alison joined a team from Covenant Presbyterian church here in Madison on a trip to Guatemala. They served as translators and had some great experiences but I will let them tell us themselves. Before they share I want to spend a few minutes reflecting on why someone would spend money and time to fly to a foreign country to serve with people who they’ve never met and are unrelated to.

This is the question I asked myself when I first heard about mission/service trips in high school. I had gone on an amazing trip to the mountains of Colorado with a church where we biked 250 miles over about a weeks time. We saw beautiful sites and had a blast flying down mountains at almost 50 miles per hour. Shortly after going to Colorado I heard about another trip that the church took every summer. This one was a little different though – it was to the Dominican Republic. The team spent about 10 days building an orphanage for kids. I like to travel and visit new places but as I heard more about the trip I had to wonder why anyone in their right mind would consider spending time and money on such an experience. It was almost 100 degrees during the day with 100% humidity. Team members worked hard all day doing manual labor with very few tools. To call the living conditions basic was generous. Huge bugs, mosquitos, outhouses, hand washing of clothes, unusual food – these were par for the course. Why would anyone want to play that game? But somehow, by God’s work in my life I guess, I found myself in the Dominican Republic a year later.

And it was worse than I had even imagined. There were 8 tarantulas waiting in the outhouse to greet us when we arrived – yes we counted. I slept on the roof of the building we were constructing because it was so hot “inside” at night. But then it would rain on us. I was too tired after pushing a wheelbarrow full of rocks all day up muddy hills to care about the rain. Or about the roaches that would crawl over and around us as we slept. The entire week I was dirty, hungry, covered in mosquito bites and exhausted. By the time we were on the airplane home I was spending most of the flight holed up in the tiny toilet trying to free my body of whatever bugs had made their home in my digestive tract. Why did I go on such a trip? Why would I care about the situation of people in a country thousands of miles away from my Midwestern home with whom I couldn’t even communicate because we spoke a different language? I had my own problems to deal with. Who can care about all the problems of other people in the world?
           
A quick survey of the news is all it takes to hear about problems so overwhelming it boggles the mind. Mass murder taking place in Kenya. New bombs in Iraq. Schools being burned down by the thousands in Afganistan. Chaos in Pakistan. Inflation in Zimbabwe that has made their currency less valuable than a piece of notebook paper. 60 million children around the world are malnourished. 60 million. Every year 2 million people die from Tuberculosis. And can you imagine being homeless here in Madison when it is 10 below zero? We could spend the next hour mired in the statistics and realities of our world. You get the picture. It is so overwhelming it is easy to give up hope and simply respond, “Who cares?”

A number of years ago I read the book, “The Fountainhead,” by Ayn Rand. The protagonist of her story is named Howard Roark. He is an architect who refuses to respond to the wishes and pressures of society that would direct his designs or his life. He is expelled from school because he insists on creating buildings that are not in fashion. He is fired from jobs because he will only draw exactly what he wants. He dynamites one of his own buildings destroying it because it is changed slightly during construction. He does only what he wants to do every moment of every day even when it causes others great pain. At the end of the book he triumphs over society as the hero - a powerful, self-sufficient man. He is perfect in his selfishness. As I read the book I was both repulsed and strangely attracted to this character. He is Ayn Rand’s hero because according to her: “Man—every man—is an end in himself, not the means to the ends of others. He must exist for his own sake, neither sacrificing himself to others nor sacrificing others to himself. The pursuit of his own rational self-interest and of his own happiness is the highest moral purpose of his life.”
           
This philosophy is disturbing to me as a follower of Christ. And yet it captures something that I believe lies deep within us all. It names openly the implications of Darwin’s concept of “survival of the fittest” – that life is a battle to survive and to thrive and we must be focused on ourselves in order to make that work. After all we each have our own problems. Our own financial difficulties. Family disputes. Bombed exams. Dashed hopes. Failed relationships. These are real problems. Why, how, should we care about others, especially people we don’t even know? There is enough to manage in life to just try to take care of ourselves and our families. Who can care about the problems of millions, billions of other people? It seems foolish to worry about all of that. It appears folly to think we can do something about it. It seems a mistake to waste our time and money on other people when life is hard enough for each of us. Why should we care? Any Rand speaks of this question when she says: “Now there is one word—a single word—which can blast the morality of altruism out of existence and which it cannot withstand—the word: "Why?" Why must man live for the sake of others? Why must he be a sacrificial animal? Why is that the good? There is no earthly reason for it—and, ladies and gentlemen, in the whole history of philosophy no earthly reason has ever been given.”
           
She is right. There is no earthly reason for altruism – no earthly reason we should care for others. In fact the entire Christian faith is in some ways foolish. Or at least it appears that way on the surface. 1^st Corinthians 1:18: “For the message about the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God.” Look at that cross. It is an instrument of humiliation and death. The cross that is center stage in the Christian church is not a smiley face or a dollar bill or a diploma. It is not a self-help book. It is a symbol of sacrifice. God entered our world in Jesus Christ as a savior. But this savior did not dominate the world. This savior did not conquer with power and earthly victory. This savior did not exist for his own sake but sacrificed himself for others. He was the antithesis of Howard Roark. He poured himself out for others. He gave of himself. He cared.
           
Yes, it seems foolish. Counter-intuitive. Bizzare. Unlikely. And yet the Apostle Paul writes to the Corinthians that “God's foolishness is wiser than human wisdom, and God's weakness is stronger than human strength.”  This same reversal of what seems to make sense takes place when we care about other people. It appears foolish to worry about anyone other than ourselves. But upon closer inspection and through real experience we find that caring for others is actually powerful. It makes us whole. When we care for others we realize that we are connected to each other. We are not alone. We are not self-sufficient. We are all in need of help and able to offer help. We have so much to learn. God calls us to care through the prophet Micah – “⁸ He has told you, O mortal, what is good; and what does the LORD require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?” This is not an arbitrary or random request from God. God knows that when we serve other people, when we care about their lives, we ourselves are made whole. Why do we care? – not because we are great and others are so pathetic that they need us to fix their problems. We care because God calls us to and caring makes us whole. To be truly human we must care. To be truly human we must enter into the lives of others to offer ourselves and to learn from them in the process. When we pour ourselves out for others we do not lose but gain.
           
It is all backwards. It seems foolish. And yet David and Alison are going to talk about how that happened to them in Guatemala. I know it happened to me on my first service trip to the Dominican Republic. As you listen to them share about their experiences think about ways you can care for others. Because even the best description of why we care is only the dimmest glimmer of really experiencing it for yourself. This semester Marcus is leading a Bible study exploring the history of Christian service using our passage from Micah as a guide. There are a couple more spots on the service trip to Kentucky over Spring Break which will be an experience of serving that will teach you a great deal. There are opportunities to care for homeless in Madison when we serve at the Men’s Shelter this coming Friday night and at St. Vincent DePaul the following week. We don’t tell you about these opportunities to make you feel guilty or harass you – we provide them because we believe that even though it seems foolish we are made whole when we give of ourselves.
           
So who cares? Who cares if there are tarantulas all over the outhouse - in the light of the joy of an orphan who now has a home? Who cares about sore muscles from a long day of work - when we gain so much from the families in Kentucky? Who cares if we miss some parties on Friday night - when we share a great moment with a guy at the men’s shelter? Who cares if there is a little less time to study when there is so much to learn from the world? Who cares if we can’t buy the newest cell phone because we spent money on a mission trip - but now have much more to talk about? Who cares about what we lose because what we gain in answering God’s call is so much greater? Who cares if it is foolish to care because in God’s kingdom that very foolishness is power? Who cares?

This sermon was for the Sunday before Martin Luther King Jr. Day using the text 1 Corinthians 1:1-9.

 

It is a New Year. 2008. It always takes me a few weeks, sometimes months, to get used to writing 2008 when I have to put the date on some form or another. But here it is. And the new year always means new promises. Promises to others and promises to ourselves. Resolutions to do something different, better, healthier. Like study more throughout the semester instead of cramming the night before a midterm or final. Or exercising more. Or staying in touch with friends from home better. Maybe coming to church more regularly. A lot of people make a New Year’s Resolution to lose weight. To stick to that diet and really make it work. 

When I was a freshman in college I had three friends who actually made a resolution to do the opposite of losing weight. At the beginning of spring semester, right at this time of year I was sitting with this group of three friends at dinner in the dorm dining hall. Obviously I am a pretty skinny guy. And I was back in college too, big surprise. Well all three of my friends were as skinny, or more so, than me. How the four of us ended up hanging out I don’t know. Our combined weight couldn’t have been much more than that of a large pro football player. And back then we were all self conscious about it. So one of the guys suggested a pact, a resolution. He proposed that we each try to gain 10 pounds by the end of the semester. A little less than a pound per week. There were lots of nods of agreement around the table. Yeah, let’s try to gain some weight so we will be more robust for the ladies (which of course was the point). I wasn’t quite as excited about the pact as the others. Sure, I would have liked to have beefed up a bit but I was realistic, pessimistic you might say. I hadn’t gained a pound since the beginning of high school and I didn’t see why I would suddenly start then. But I was all for supporting this goal of my friends. After a few minutes of excited chatter around the group about how great it would be to be bigger I asked an obvious question: How? How will you gain weight?

Silence.

Nobody wanted to take some kind of supplement – they couldn’t afford creatine and didn’t want to try steroids. Nobody wanted to drink milkshakes full of egg yolks or protein powder every day. Some of them didn’t even eat more than one or two meals a day – sleeping through breakfast and even lunch at times was preferable. And most problematic of all -- none of my friends wanted to work out in the gym. In fact they didn’t really want to do much differently at all with their lives to make their resolution a reality. Then the guy who came up with the pact in the first place proposed the answer: “we will come in the dining hall the minute it opens each night at 5:30 and stay until it closes at 8. While we are here we will eat the entire time as much as we can.” That was his plan for gaining weight. Overeating for a couple of hours each night. --- Which is pretty much what we had all been doing the previous semester already! – and we hadn’t gained a pound between the four of us. As you might guess the pact went on for a few weeks, nobody gained an ounce of weight and the whole thing was dropped before midterms started.

My group of friends from my freshman year of college isn’t much different than most people. We set out with great intentions making our New Year’s Resolutions but a quarter of us have given them up a before the first week of the new year is over. Have any of you given up a resolution yet? But yet we keep making them year after year. Why? Because we are masochists who want to set ourselves up for failure over and over again? Because we are hopeless romantics who think that each time will be different from the last? Maybe those things are true. But I think that at some level we keep making resolutions because we want to better ourselves. We want to grow. To be healthier. To be stronger. To do good things. And that isn’t a bad reason at all. As I sat down to write my sermon this week I saw a bookmark on the table that had a quote by Mary Oliver printed on it. It said, “What do you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?” When we step back and pause for a moment we realize that life is wild. Crazy. Unpredictable. And it is precious. It is a gift more valuable than all the diamonds in the world. So it is a good thing to ask, “What am I going to do with my one wild and precious life?” Am I going to make the most of it? And how can I live better? At the core I think New Year’s Resolutions are an attempt, a poor one perhaps, but an attempt to answer that question.

In our scripture passage for today we read the beginning of the apostle Paul’s letter to the Christian church in Corinth. Paul challenges the Corinthian church to consider what they are doing with their lives – and he calls them to live as saints. This text from 1^st Corinthians is the lectionary passage for this Sunday. Today and for the next two weeks we are going to preach from the lectionary before the church season of Lent begins. The lectionary is a way of breaking down the Bible into pieces that can be read and preached on each Sunday. There are in fact readings for each day of the week. It is a historical tradition in many Christian denominations. The purpose was to be sure that people and churches heard parts of the whole Bible and that we don’t get stuck on only some passages of it. The lectionary that many churches use today comes from the Revised Common Lectionary that breaks the Bible into pieces that are spread out over a three year period before they are repeated. Each Sunday there is a passage from the Old Testament, a Psalm, a passage from one of the Gospels in the New Testament and a passage from the letters of the New Testament. The passages also follow the church calendar to include readings at Lent, on Easter, during Advent and Christmas as well as other special times in the church year. Today we are going to look at the passage from the letters from the lectionary for January 20th. The text today comes from Paul’s letter to the church in Corinth. Millions of people have heard this same scripture read in church today. We are bound together with Christians all over the world through common practices like the lectionary as well as a common faith.

¹Paul, called to be an apostle of Christ Jesus by the will of God, and our brother Sosthenes,
²To the church of God that is in Corinth, to those who are sanctified in Christ Jesus, called to be saints, together with all those who in every place call on the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, both their Lord and ours:
³Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.
⁴I give thanks to my God always for you because of the grace of God that has been given you in Christ Jesus, ⁵for in every way you have been enriched in him, in speech and knowledge of every kind—⁶just as the testimony of Christ has been strengthened among you—⁷so that you are not lacking in any spiritual gift as you wait for the revealing of our Lord Jesus Christ. ⁸He will also strengthen you to the end, so that you may be blameless on the day of our Lord Jesus Christ. ⁹God is faithful; by him you were called into the fellowship of his Son, Jesus Christ our Lord.
           
This passage is Paul’s opening greeting to the Corinthian church. The church in Corinth was diverse, made up of Gentiles and Jews. It had developed factions within it vying for power and authority with leaders claiming different theological positions. People were ranked in a status oriented hierarchy, sometimes based on their spiritual gifts. The church had many gifts but they were not unified and in many cases were not using their gifts productively. Into this context Paul writes his greeting: “²To the church of God that is in Corinth, to those who are sanctified in Christ Jesus, called to be saints, together with all those who in every place call on the name of our Lord… ³Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.” This is quite an opening. No small talk, no inside jokes. Paul launches right into his message to the church in Corinth – you are called to be saints. You are called to make the most of your life. To take seriously your faith in Jesus Christ and let it show. And to start by recognizing that all of you are called to be saints, along with Christians around the whole world. Not just one faction or another. Everyone is equally sanctified and called to live as saints together. To be united in attempting to live out the gospel of Jesus Christ in the church and your lives. Paul goes on to remind them of the gifts that they have been given. Grace and forgiveness through Jesus Christ, spiritual gifts that can be shared, and strength from God who promises to make them whole and complete. They have a lot. They should use it for good rather than for argument and division. They are called to be saints. To make some resolutions and keep them.

But what is a saint? The catholic church has a particular definition of what makes someone a saint. But I’m speaking more generally. What does it mean to be a saint? Perhaps we can look at an example of someone who seems saintly to get an idea of what that involves. This weekend is a special weekend. Not just because of the Packers game or the beginning of a new semester. But because tomorrow is the day we remember Martin Luther King Jr. Each year in mid-January many people get a day off of work or school to honor a real American hero. But though it is very fitting to honor his life and death with a day, Martin Luther King Jr. day is also a reminder and a wake-up call. It is a chance to stop, remember his life and be inspired. It is chance to reflect on our own lives and the contributions that we make to the world. It is fair to say that Martin Luther King Jr. is a saint. And his story can be an inspiration to us.

Martin Luther King Jr. is inspirational because he was killed for his belief in the equality of all people and his commitment to the civil rights movement. He is inspirational because he marched, organized, and went to jail in order to make real change for all of us. He is inspirational because even though he and his family were threatened, beaten and ridiculed he held fast to a message of non-violent social change. His sermons and letters are a marvel of thoughtful, powerful, inspirational messages from God to humanity. He was a saint who gave so much for so many. But to this list I will add something that lies beneath all of King’s life and work and truly made him a saint – his faith in Jesus Christ.

At the age of six the young Martin Luther King Jr. was shocked to be sent home by a friend’s white father after being told that they couldn’t play together anymore because King was black. At the age of eight a white woman turned to young Martin in a department store sneering, “You’re the little nigger who stepped on my foot.” And then she slapped him. In high school returning to Atlanta from a speech contest on a bus King and his teacher were told by the bus driver to give up their seats to whites who had just gotten on. “When we didn’t move right away,” Martin recalled, “the driver started cursing us out and calling us black [SOBs].” They stood in the center aisle for the full 90 mile journey back to Atlanta. 

King was subjected to the crushing racism and discrimination of the American landscape day in and day out. And yet he went to college at age 15, finished first in his seminary class, got his Ph.D and was named one of the top 5 students his professor at Boston College had taught in over 31 years – not to mention that he changed the culture, history and laws of our country forever. How did King survive a society that told him repeatedly that he was worthless? That he would amount to nothing. That he was the furthest thing from a saint. Certainly part of the answer is his faith in God.

According to the theologian James Cone, “No matter what whites said about blacks or what wicked laws they enacted against their humanity, the people [in the church King grew up in] believed that God had bestowed upon them a somebodyness which had been signed and sealed by Jesus’ death and resurrection.” Even in the midst of the overwhelming racism of daily life they claimed for themselves the gospel message stated in the first verses of Paul’s letter to the church in Corinth. We are saints. Through Jesus Christs’ death and resurrection we are made new. We are made into somebody. We are saints.

The first step in living as a saint is laying claim to the truth and joy that we have already been made saints by God in Jesus Christ. Paul begins and ends each of his letters with the message of grace. Our lives, our actions, our calling begins and ends with the grace of God. We have been made saints by God – the challenge is to accept that and then to live it out. To live into it. To act like the saints we are. It isn’t the great sermons and amazing sacrifices that make King a saint – it is the grace of Jesus Christ. It isn’t Martin Luther King Jr.’s death that makes him a saint – it is death of Jesus Christ. King embraced his God given sainthood. But King took his sainthood in Christ seriously. He didn’t take it for granted. He lived for it. He let it change his life. Unlike my friends who resolved to gain weight but did nothing about it, he took action each and every day to follow through on his resolution – on his calling to sainthood. 

As I wrap up my thoughts today let me reword the opening of Paul’s letter and speak it to you as a blessing. Hear this message from me, from Paul, from God as you look forward into a new semester and a new year:
            Pastor Mark, called to serve God as best as I can and seek the will of God, and my sister in ministry, Pastor Erica, share these words with you the community of God that is here at Pres House. To all of you who are made whole in Christ Jesus, called to be saints, together with people who seek Christ all over the campus and throughout the world, all joined together through God:  Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.
            I am thankful for all of you and grateful to God that each of us is made a child of God through the grace of Jesus Christ. You are a part of God’s family, not through your own work but through God’s gift to you. You are a gifted group of people. God has blessed with you skills, talents, bright minds and caring hearts. You have opportunities aplenty on this campus to learn, grow, study abroad, go on mission trips, live together, attend amazing lectures and meet incredible people – you are being built up by God to do great things. God will strengthen you this year even more. Take advantage of the opportunities offered to you. Be ready to receive God’s gifts. And take seriously your calling to live as the saints God has made you. This semester learn new things, make a new friend, be a new friend, do something difficult, live a little healthier, love a little more, pray a little deeper, take some good risks. Lay claim to your sainthood and let it change your life. God is faithful. Amen.

This sermon is part of a series looking at the hidden characters of Advent. The scripture for this Sunday was Luke 1:5-25; 39-45; 57-66.

           Christmas starts earlier and earlier every year. We just had Thanksgiving but before it was even over, before it even began, we were heading full steam ahead towards Christmas. Christmas trees and ornaments. Friday sales. Pretty lights on the neighbors’ house. Reindeer on the roof. These things have begun in earnest. It is ironic that just hours after we give thanks for the abundance of the earth and God’s gifts we get up at the crack of dawn (or don’t even go to sleep at all) to head out to the mall and buy more things that we hope will make us happy. We jump straight from giving thanks to wanting more.

            You’ve probably heard this complaint about Christmas starting too early before. Every year around Thanksgiving you will find people grumbling about how all the holidays just run into each other becoming one big ball of stress and how there isn’t time to enjoy each one by itself. But I am not actually sure that Christmas starting earlier is a problem. Sure, I think the Thanksgiving/Consumer Friday combination is a bizarre and ironic pairing – though I must confess I have availed myself of Thanksgiving weekend sales with some joy. But perhaps it isn’t terrible that we begin thinking about Christmas early. Anticipating Christmas sooner rather than later could be a good thing. Emma has been talking about visiting her grandparents in California at Christmas since July. She uses the phrase, “I can’t wait to see them…” Which she has learned also means, “I am excited for Christmas…” Is it a problem to be excited for Christmas?
           
            The Christian church has for many centuries celebrated the anticipation of Christmas weeks ahead of time. Christians light candles, read the Christmas story and reflect on the message of God being born into the world as a tiny baby days and weeks before it actually happens. This time of preparation is called Advent. Advent is the time of year that when we look forward to, anticipate, and are excited about the coming of Christ at Christmas. It is like the churches’ version of blowout sales and Black Friday. And it takes place well before the event itself. Today we are beginning our Advent series here at Pres House. And this year we are looking at hidden characters of Advent – people who feature less prominently in the stories. Today we are looking at Elizabeth – the mother of John the Baptist. Because we don’t hold worship on Sundays at Pres House over the Holiday Break between semesters we don’t have a chance to meet for all four of the weeks of Advent leading up to Christmas. Our last Sunday together is the third week of Advent. So here at Pres House we move Advent up by one week and start it a little early. We do just what the big retailers do when they open at midnight on Black Friday. We move things up a bit. We start earlier. And I think that instead of being a problem, this move forward can be a good thing if when we do it -- we expect surprises. That is what Christmas, and our scripture passage for today, is all about – expecting surprises.

            There are four gospels in the Bible at the beginning of the New Testament that tell the story of Jesus. Luke is the third gospel. It is also the only one that tells this story of the birth of John the Baptist. John the Baptist appears as a grown man in the other three gospels preparing the way for the coming of Jesus the Christ. But even in his birth, as told here in the gospel of Luke, John prepares the way for Jesus. The story of John’s birth begins with his father Zechariah. Zechariah was a priest. He was also married to a woman, Elizabeth who came from the priestly line. Both of them are praised for being righteous and faithful followers of God. Zechariah is especially blessed on this occasion because he has come upon the honor of going into the sanctuary of the temple to offer incense to the Lord. This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity that was decided by casting lots among the priests who had not yet served in this way -- essentially by drawing straws. Zechariah drew the longest straw and gets to go into the sanctuary. The sanctuary in the temple is the place that the Jews held as most sacred because God was present there in a special way. Only Zechariah is allowed to go in while everyone else waits outside.    
      
            So Zechariah is experiencing an incredible opportunity. It is the pinnacle of his priestly career. A once-in-a-lifetime chance to go into the very center of the temple, into the closest presence of God to offer praise on behalf of the people. But in my description so far I have neglected to mention a key fact in the story. Not all is well with Zechariah and his wife Elizabeth. Because they have no children. Elizabeth is barren. They are old and past the age of being able to bear children and they are alone. This is a major hole in Zechariah’s spiritual resume. It is like discovering that the CEO never went to college. Because for pious Jews at the time children were a sign of God’s blessing and favor. And a lack of children was a sign of a lack of God’s favor. Maybe even of punishment. It was a disgrace and a major source of sorrow for Zechariah and Elizabeth. Zechariah had prayed to God for a child. He had probably been praying for years, maybe even decades. But Elizabeth remained barren.

            So here is Zechariah going into the very presence of God in the sanctuary of the temple with this big weight on his shoulders and desire in his heart. His job is to light incense for God. To be the one who represents the rest of the people to God. He is going into a holy, sacred space where God dwells. A place where he might expect to actually meet God. A place where he might expect to encounter the very Lord he had been praying to and serving as a priest for his whole life.

            After entering the space Zechariah goes up to the altar to offer incense. As he goes to light it he turns and sees an incredible sight standing at the right side of the altar – an angel of the Lord is actually there in the room! The angel tells him that his prayer has been heard and that his wife Elizabeth will indeed bear a son. His son, to be named John, will be a great person who will lead many people back to faithfully following God. Wow! God shows up in that sanctuary with a message of joy and hope.

            But Zechariah doesn’t expect it. He wonders, quite naturally, how this can be true and how Elizabeth can have a child when it is clear that it is impossible by normal standards for her to get pregnant. Zechariah thinks, I know how babies are made and I can tell you, it just isn’t happening for us… The angel responds by telling Zechariah that what the angel has said will indeed come true and because he didn’t believe it Zechariah will lose the ability to speak until after the baby is born. Apparently the life-long priest offering incense in the sanctuary of the temple did not expect God to actually be there. The righteous blameless servant was ready to light incense but not to meet God in God’s dwelling place.

            I’ve spent a lot of time talking about Zechariah and no time yet talking about the person we are looking at today – his wife Elizabeth. That is because the insights we gain from Elizabeth come largely out of the contrast between her and her husband. So let’s look at how she responds to God showing up and giving them a child.

            After the first introduction of Elizabeth as a righteous woman and a daughter of the priestly line we don’t hear much about her until she conceives a child. When she conceives she remains in seclusion for 5 months. We aren’t sure why but perhaps she waits until she is showing so that when others see her they will know for sure that she is indeed pregnant. What is most amazing about Elizabeth in this story is that unlike her husband Zechariah she did expect surprises from God. When she comes out of seclusion and announces her pregnancy she says: ²⁵ "This is what the Lord has done for me when he looked favorably on me and took away the disgrace I have endured among my people."  Elizabeth responds to God’s gift with immediate thanks. She didn’t see the angel in the sanctuary and her husband has not been able to talk to her about his vision because he’s been mute. But she is sure that this pregnancy is a gift from God and she is ready to receive it. Without cynicism, skepticism or disagreement. She expects the surprise of conceiving a child when it is clearly impossible without God. She is ready for God to heal the barren place in her life. This hidden character, the disgraced woman, is exalted over the pious priest in her simple acceptance of God’s ability to do a miracle and to show up in her life. The contrast between them is meaningful and enlightening.
           
            It forces me to consider what I expect of God. Do I expect God to actually show up in my life or am I cynically resigned to just reading stories about God at work in other people and at other times. Unfortunately I think that most of the time we do the later. We live like Zechariah. Even if we believe in God, pray and come to church we don’t actually expect God to show up. That later one is especially striking. What do you expect when you come to worship? To see your friends, to have a nice meal together, to sing along with some pretty songs, to try and stay awake while someone preaches at you? Those are all wonderful parts of worship – but they don’t exist for their own sake. Last year Emma took to running around our house yelling, “Bawk, bawk. I am a pastor, bawk bawk. This was around Halloween when she was dressed as a chicken. Apparently she associated pastors with clucking chickens. Pastors sound like that sometimes but even if every word we say isn’t meaningful to you our preaching is done for a reason. Travis leads us in musical worship for a reason. We take communion together each week for a reason. And we sit together at the dinner table for a reason. We do all of these things to make space in our hearts and minds for us to meet God. To encounter Jesus Christ right here in this space. Each week. So do you expect God to actually be here when you come to worship? A lot of the time, maybe even most of the time, we come to worship like Zechariah. We come with burdens, we come praying perhaps, we come into the sanctuary where our entire purpose is to commune with God – and yet we don’t actually expect God to be here.
           
            When I was in college I attended InterVarsity’s Urbana Missions conference. It is a huge gathering of over 20,000 people that takes place every three years during the week after Christmas. It is an opportunity to worship together, hear speakers from around the world and learn more about missions. At one of the evening sessions a highly anticipated speaker got up to share but he could not be heard. He had lost his voice. He was going to talk about the gospel message of the grace of God in Jesus Christ but the crowd couldn’t hear him. So the organizers got some people to stand up behind him on the back side of the stage, put their arms up towards him, and pray. As they prayed he began to speak and his voice returned. He delivered a powerful message of God’s love to all of us gathered there. It was a miracle witnessed by 20,000 people. We were amazed and excited by God showing up in that worship time. But within a few minutes after the session closed there were murmurings of skepticism around the campus. People began saying, “I heard that he took a few cough drops and that is why he was able to speak.” And others said, “Well it was cold outside. He probably got his voice back once it had a chance to warm up.” And so the discussions went. People went from being amazed by God’s presence back to the assumption that God couldn’t actually give the man his voice back.

            I’ll admit I was one of those skeptics. I don’t know how he got his voice back. Maybe it was a cough drop that helped. Or maybe the warm air inside. Or maybe someone praying was reminded by God to give him a cough drop… who knows. I don’t think it actually really matters. What makes me sad is that I along with many others didn’t actually expect such a surprise. We were all gathered in an indoor stadium for worship – but we didn’t actually expect God to show up. We were not open to the possibility that God could be there and could heal a man’s voice.

            I contrast this experience with my memories of Christmas growing up as a kid. I was so excited for Christmas morning that I would have trouble sleeping. Were any of you like that? Well I would try to tire myself out before going to bed so I could sleep. I would run around my room, do pushups and all kinds of other exercises to try and get tired enough to sleep through the night. I didn’t realize then that exercising right before going to bed actually does the opposite of making you tired. I did all this frenetic activity because I was excited for Christmas morning. Because I expected some wonderful surprises. My parents were great about putting together an excellent stocking of little gifts and lots of other amazing presents each year. They weren’t extravagant but they were very nice and each year I was very pleased with my haul. I knew that when I went downstairs I would find a pile of wrapped presents and underneath the paper I would find some great gifts. I expected a wonderful surprise on Christmas morning.

            Do you expect to get gifts at Christmas? Physical, material gifts? Do you expect to be surprised? I have to think that Black Friday and the shopping frenzy that we will experience from now through Christmas eve is all about expecting those surprises. Getting and giving surprises to family and friends. Unwrapping presents. So I have to ask then, if we expect presents at Christmas why shouldn’t we expect God at Christmas. Elizabeth did, not only did she receive God’s gift to her in the form of a son but she was also the first to prophesy about the child in Mary’s womb. Mary, a relative of Elizabeth, experienced a similar miraculous pregnancy – this one with out any sex at all – and came for a visit. When she came into Elizabeth’s house the women greeted each other with warmth. And then Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit  ⁴² and exclaimed with a loud cry, "Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb.  She was open to the surprise of her son John and to the surprise of Mary’s son Jesus. She expected God to show up. And God did.

            The story of Elizabeth ends with the birth of her son John. God fulfilled the promise that she would bear a son. But that wasn’t the only way God was present in her life. God showed up much more directly than even appearing to Zechariah in the sanctuary or answering their prayers for a son. God showed up as a human being – a tiny baby – in the child Jesus. God came into the barreness of Elizabeth’s womb and gave her a child. And God came into the barreness of the world – as a child. That is what Christmas is all about. What a surprise!

            So I don’t think it is bad at all if we start Christmas early. Let the anticipation, the excitement, the joy begin now. We don’t need any more sales at the mall. But we do need to expect some surprises at Christmas. So move up the date when we begin preparing. Go ahead. In fact, let some of that Christmas spirit spread throughout the whole year. Expect God to show up all the time. Instead of just anticipating presents look forward to God surprising you during this Advent season, this Christmas season. Expect God to meet you here in worship every week. And be ready for God to heal the barren places in your life each and every day of the year. If that is what Christmas is about then it can’t start a day too early.

This is part of a series on Psalm 23.

 

I have grown to love fine dining. There is something incredible about gathering around a table with people I love and sharing a very special meal. I wasn’t always this way. For many years I didn’t understand what all the hype was about fine dining. I couldn’t understand spending large amounts of money on food. It just wasn’t a part of my world. That all changed one night a few years ago. 

            When Erica and I were in grad school at seminary we became really good friends with two other couples who were also all students. Some of you met one of the couples on our retreat this weekend – Erik and Kate Weibe. The six of us moved into the same apartment building and started our seminary classes all together at the same time. While the three couples now have a total of 7 children, back when we started our programs none of us had kids. We spent a lot of time grilling outside our building, eating lunch in the cafeteria or sharing dinner together in one apartment or another. We sat around a table a lot. But there was one night that really changed my view of food. One of the men in our group – Jeremy – is an amateur gourmet chef. His favorite gift for Christmas or his birthday is to go to a fine restaurant for dinner. More than an I-pod, a new TV, tickets to a show or really anything else, Jeremy loves to eat the best food. He also loves to cook it.

            So one weekend he invited the six of us over for a home cooked gourmet meal. He spent the entire weekend shopping, preparing and cooking this meal. I think he ran the dishwasher 5 or 6 times in the process as he went through each of his pots and cooking implements over and over again. And that was before we even ate! Then we all showed up on the appointed night for the dinner. It started with a single shrimp on a fork for each of us. Yes, just one shrimp – but it the best shrimp I have ever tasted in my life. It had taken him hours of creating a homemade broth and seasoning and all kinds of other things I can’t even describe or understand to create one shrimp for each of us! We went on to eat 8 incredible courses including tapenade and crusty bread, creamy asparagus soup, hand-made ravioli, salmon, veal, a cheese course, sorbet in an almond crust bowl, and even hand-rolled chocolate truffles. Each course took hours of careful preparation and were made with only the finest ingredients. I have never had a meal like it in my life and I am not sure I ever will again. It was of course made all the more tasty by the presence of good friends and lots of laughter. It was truly a feast. It was an overwhelming experience. It is what I think of when I hear the words from Psalm 23 for today, “You prepare a table before me…”

            Today we are looking at the 5^th verse of the incredibly rich prayer that sustains us – Psalm 23. Last week we talked about fear. What are we afraid of? And what does God provide for us to guide us through our fear? ⁴ “Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I fear no evil; for you are with me; your rod and your staff-- they comfort me.”  God’s discipline is a gift that helps us make it through the darkest valleys of our life. And then we read today’s verse:  ⁵ “You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies; you anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows.”  In this verse the psalmist has made it through the valley of darkness, or at least a valley of darkness, in his or her life. And what is on the other side of this valley? A banquet table. A feast. An incredible meal where God is the host! As in the previous verse God is referred to here in the personal second person, “You prepare a table before me…” The personal, shepherd God prepares a feast for the psalmist. A feast of amazing quality. Perhaps a little like the 8 courses my friend Jeremy prepared for a group of hungry seminary students.

            I can think of another feast that I ate under very different circumstances that also reminds me of this verse. This one took place in a tiny mud hut in the rural mountains of Ethiopia. I was there with Erica leading a team of 10 people on a mission/work trip in partnership with Food for the Hungry. Part of our trip was to spend a night in the home of a local farmer – and it was literally a one room, mud hut. We helped hoe some potatoes fields in the afternoon and then as it began to rain we gathered around a small fire-pit in the home for the evening meal. This farmer lived on less than one dollar per day to feed his whole family. And yet they fed us a feast of sorts. His wife roasted fresh coffee beans over the little fire. She then ground them up with a rough mortar and pestle and brewed some coffee for us in a small black stone pot. Meanwhile they prepared a stew of potatoes and some spices. The whole group of over 15 people including the farmers kids squeezed into this tiny space around a small fire and shared a very simple meal of potatoes. But it was a feast of a different kind. Through an interpreter we shared with each other stories about our lives. The differences were obviously dramatic. It was difficult to even describe our life in the U.S. to farmers who had lived high in the Ethiopian mountains their whole life. And we couldn’t fathom what their life was like even while we sitting right there in their home. But we laughed and found much in common. And the family taught us a beautiful Ethiopian tradition, called: giving gorsha.

            Traditional Ethiopian food is not eaten with a knife and fork. It is instead eaten by tearing off a piece of injera, a pancake like starch made from teff, a local grain, and then grabbing pieces of food from a communal dish with the injera and putting it straight into your mouth. Giving gorsha is the practice of using a piece of injera to pick up food and then instead of putting it in your own mouth you put it in someone else’s mouth. You directly feed someone else at the table. It is a sign of respect, of honor, of love to feed someone else. It is also an amazing way of bringing people together and is quite intimate. There is an Ethiopian saying that is translated in English as, “gorsha and love both strike fear."  They both strike fear because they are hard to do and at their best they come in large quantities. When you give someone gorsha, you're supposed to stuff their mouth full.  The bigger the feeding the more 'love' you are showing them.  So we all sat around this dark little hut feeding each other a meal of potatoes while the rain poured down outside. The food wasn’t gourmet in the usual sense. It wasn’t expensive. There definitely weren’t eight courses. But yet it was truly a feast. It was an overwhelming experience. It is what I think of when I hear the words from Psalm 23 for today, “You prepare a table before me…”

            As this psalm has made clear throughout, life is full of challenges. It is full of pain and heartache. God doesn’t make our lives a long exotic vacation. The psalmist knows this full well. He or she has experienced some very dark valleys and faced some very real fears. But even in the midst of this the psalmist is able to affirm that God is present like a shepherd with his sheep. And God prepares a table for us. God invites us to an incredible banquet table where God is the host! The rest of the verse fleshes out what this feast looks like and what we experience at God’s table. There are three key elements to God’s meal: first, when we are invited to the table we are seated at a huge party. We join the biggest, most expansive party ever thrown. Second, even though this party is huge, each of us is honored as a special guest. And third, the feast is full of so much goodness it is overwhelming. We are given SO much by the host of the table. God is an incredible host. We are invited to experience an amazing feast at God’s table. But when we sit down at the table we are also challenged to live a more healthy, loving, and giving life in response. Each of the gifts of the table comes complete with a challenge. So let’s talk a little bit about these three parts of the verse:

            “You prepare a table before me…in the presence of my enemies.” “In the presence of my enemies.” What does that mean? The language of this psalm has been so eloquent and full of faith and profound truth. It is an amazing piece of poetry. But this phrase sound out of sync. It sounds vindictive and spiteful. “I get to eat an amazing feast that God gives me right in front of my enemies who have to watch while they go hungry and see how blessed I am.” It sounds like the dream of going back to your high school reunion and pulling up in a Ferrari with a beautiful spouse on your arm and gold dripping off your body. And then strolling in to find the people who made your life miserable in high school dressed poorly, out of shape, alone, and depressed. That is a very real feeling we might have but it doesn’t seem very becoming of an author of one of the most beloved pieces of biblical literature ever written. So what is this part all about?

            Well, on one level it affirms that even the psalmist is human. Even the author of this amazing piece has the same human feelings of vindictiveness that we all have on occasion. It affirms that our feelings are real and can be honestly expressed to God. But on another level it says something even more important about God’s table: God’s banquet is open to everyone. Everyone, even the people we don’t like, even the people who have hurt us, even the people we consider losers -- they are all are invited to the table along with us. Desmond Tutu has said, “God does not share our hatred no matter what the offense we have endured. We try to claim God for ourselves and for our cause, but God’s love is too great to be confined...” God’s table is expansive. It is huge. Not even the tallest, or widest trees in the world could be cut down to make a table big enough for God to host the feast. The whole world is invited to the feast. When we come to God’s table we join the biggest party ever thrown.

            This is an incredible image of joy and unity and love. But it is also a challenge. Because it is hard to sit at a table with people we don’t like, with people we don’t agree with, with people that have done wrong to us or our loved ones. When you sit at a table with someone you have to look them in the eye. If you want the salt you have to ask them directly, “Please pass me the salt.” And that requires letting go of our hatreds. It requires forgiving the people seated around us. It requires humility recognizing that we are not the only people at the table and that God loves the other people there as much as God loves us. It is hard to remain enemies when you share a meal together. And so when we join God’s table we are also asked to forgive and share the love God has given us with the others at the table. We are called to reach out our hand, get some delicious food from God’s feast and instead of putting it into our mouths – give gorsha by reaching out to the person we like the least and giving them a taste of God’s love.  Someone once commented to Abraham Lincoln, “Surely, you should try to destroy your enemies.” Lincoln replied, “Am I not destroying my enemies when I make them my friends?”

            God’s table is open to everyone. Everyone at the table is an honored guest. Everyone is special. And that includes us. The verse continues, “you anoint my head with oil…” Anointing is an act of recognizing someone as special. It usually involves pouring oil on a person, often their head. The Merriam-Webster dictionary defines anoint as: 1: to smear or rub with oil or an oily substance 2 a: to apply oil to as a sacred rite especially for consecration b: to choose by or as if by divine election. The last definition is the strongest – to choose by divine election. Anointing signifies being chosen as special – often for an important task. Queen Elisabeth was anointed with oil when she was crowned queen of England many years ago. Jesus himself was anointed with expensive oil by an adoring woman. The word Messiah actually means, “anointed one.” And here in Psalm 23 the Lord anoints the writer with oil.

            At the Lord’s table we are marked as special. We are honored guests. Like my friend who put so much love into his cooking and the Ethiopian farmer who gave even in the midst of his own dire need – we are honored as special. Much of the time we don’t want to stand out too much. It is embarrassing to walk into class late and have the professor make note of your tardiness in front of everyone. It is awkward to show up at a party dressed in a tuxedo when everyone else is in jeans. It is uncomfortable to stand out too much. But all of us want to be known in some way as special. We want to be recognized as being worthy of love and having value. We like to watch the Olympics because they provide athletes an opportunity to stand above the crowd and receive a gold medal for their specialness. We watch award shows like the Oscars and reality shows like America Idol to see who is the best. Who is the most special. At God’s table we are all given a gold medal. We all arrive on the red carpet. We are each special, honored guests of God’s banquet.

            And we are also challenged to use our gifts for something. The honored guest at a party often makes a speech. In the same way each of us are called to live as honored guests in the world – we are challenged to do something with our special gifts and not just keep them to ourselves. If you are a good dancer – share that with the world. If you are a good listener – care for others with your ears and heart. If you are good at doing research – dig into the truth of what lies around us. Whatever makes you special – use it to make a difference in people’s lives.

            The third experience of sitting at God’s table is that God provides so many good things for us. “My cup overflows.” The cup isn’t half empty or half full. It isn’t even just full to the brim. It actually overflows – pouring goodness all over the table so that it runs off the edge and onto your lap and down onto the floor. God’s goodness is excessive. It is over the top. It is immense. Does that seem like a hollow statement to make? There is a lot of suffering. There is a lot that isn’t good with life. It often feels like God’s goodness is far from excessive. The psalmist knows this about life. The psalmist has gone through dark valleys. This statement – “my cup overflows” isn’t some Hallmark greeting card line covered with pictures of cakes, hearts, balloons or cute teddy bears. It is a statement of faith and an orientation towards God that has come OUT of the full experience of disappointment and difficulty that life brings. It comes from the recognition that everything we have is a gift from God. Even our very lives. The challenge of sitting at God’s table is to accept the overflowing cup with gratitude – even when all isn’t perfect.

            Sometimes when I come home from work Emma gives me a crayon drawing she has done during the day. She runs up to me and says, “Daddy, daddy, look at this! This is for you!” And I take the drawing from her and say, “Thank you, it is beautiful! Thank you!” Now we must be honest. The drawing is not going to make it into any museum. As amazing as it is for a three year old it is not fine art by an objective measure. If I were to judge it by what kind of art I would buy at a gallery I would be disappointed. By that standard I would have to say, “Well Emma, nice try but you should really use different colors or learn how to draw those shapes better.” But of course I don’t see it that way. I see it as an expression of love from my daughter. I don’t care what it looks like. I just care that she gave it to me. I respond with gratitude.

            Life is not always exactly what we want. It isn’t the picture we would have painted for ourselves. It is disappointing much of the time. But when looked at it from a different perspective it is beautiful. Life itself is a gift from a loving God. When we recognize that we are not entitled to anything then everything we have is a blessing. G. K. Chesterton has said, “Children are delighted when Santa puts toys or sweets into their stockings. Shall I not be grateful when he puts in my stockings the gift of two healthy legs?” Infant babies have to interact with the world in order to really learn how to see. If they don’t then the light that comes into their eyes is just that – light with no meaning. Our experience shapes the light that hits our retina into images that have meaning. In the same way, our perspective towards God shapes how we interpret the reality of our life. Circumstances might not change but the way we experience them can. Often we divide life into two categories, the things we are thankful for and the things we wish would be different. True gratitude is accepting and embracing all of life. My cup overflows. Not all of what is in my cup is perfect. But it is all a part of my life. My cup overflows – and for that I am grateful.

This is the first sermon in a series on Psalm 23.         

         Psalm 23 may be one of the most well know parts of the Bible. It is a little bit like the pledge of allegiance. People might not be able to recite it word for word without prompting but we recognize it when we hear it, many of us know some of the words and phrases and we might even be able to join along with a recitation of it. This week we begin our series looking at this well know passage from the Bible. We will explore some of the common interpretations and reflect on it’s prominence in our social consciousness. But hopefully we will also begin to see it in a new light and claim it as our own in a new way. Hopefully we will see it with fresh eyes and hear God’s voice to us anew through the 57 Hebrew words found in the middle our Bibles. But before I begin I want to take a minute for us to think about what we already bring to Psalm 23 by sharing with each other. Question: what do you think of when you hear the words of Psalm 23?

           Psalm 23 is probably the first passage from the Bible that I remember learning as a child. I almost feel like I have known the psalm my whole life. I think this is because when I was little I had Psalm 23 hanging up on my wall in my room. It was a smallish framed piece of paper containing the words, “The Lord is my Shepherd I shall not want…” and so on printed in a nice calm color – blue I think. The words were accompanied by a romantic picture of a shepherd holding a staff surrounded by sweet fluffy sheep. I think they may have even been kicking back on some grass on the bank of a babbling brook. While the details are fuzzy now what I do remember is that it conveyed a sense of peace and calm. And so Psalm 23 entered into my psyche from a young age. 

            I have another memory of Psalm 23 from much later in my life. A few years ago as part of my training to become a pastor I served as a chaplain in a trauma hospital in New Jersey. It was my job to visit patients and families who were sick and dying and try to offer them comfort. It was a pretty terrifying job, especially at first. So at the advice of a friend of mine I bought this little book here – a pastor’s cheat sheet of sorts. It contains scripture verses and prayers appropriate to use in a hospital. I went through it and made notes on my favorite verses and put in little bookmarks so I could find passages while my hands were shaking as families waited for me to say something meaningful at a time of sorrow, worry and loss. Some of the bookmarks are still here.

            Before my first week in the hospital was up I was scheduled to be “on-call” for a 30 hour shift. This entailed carrying around a pager that would regularly emit a loud and high pitched sound alerting me to some crisis occurring in the hospital – a trauma, a code blue, a death, etc. I was expected to join the rush of doctors, nurses and orderlies running to the emergency room to deal with whatever horror was on the table at that moment. About halfway through my first shift I was startled away of my nice tasty hospital food dinner by the sound of the pager. I called the number that showed on its screen and was asked by a nurse to come to one of the units in the hospital. A man had just died and his family requested the presence of a chaplain. So I hurried up the elevators clutching my little blue book and hoping I would have some words to say to them.

            When I entered the room, there were about 6 people standing around in silence. On the bed lay an older man looking quite peaceful. I came in and introduced myself as the chaplain in the hospital at that time. In all honesty I wasn’t too thrilled to be in that position at that moment. We all just stood looking at the face of the man lying in the bed. I knew nothing about him. His family knew everything. So I asked them to tell me a little bit about him and they shared a few memories. It was clear that his death had been expected and the family was as ready as they could be for it – but that didn’t diminish their loss. They had just lost a father, brother, and grandfather. After a couple more minutes of silence it became clear to me that I should do or say something. So I opened my little blue book and began reading --- Psalm 23 – “The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want…”

            Why, in the face of loss, did I turn to Psalm 23? We were in a large urban hospital in central New Jersey – about as far away from sheep and shepherds as could be. What did those words have to offer the family gathered to say goodbye to a loved one? Psalm 23 is very commonly associated with funerals and death. Why is that? And does it only speak about dying and not about living? Before I suggest an answer to these questions let me give you a little background about this psalm that we are going to look at for the next few weeks.

            Psalm 23 is one of 150 Psalms, or songs or hymns they might be called in the collection that became the Book of Psalms. They are written in Hebrew over a wide time period well before the birth of Christ. They are poetic literature which speaks truth about God in a very different way from other kinds of literature such as narrative story or propositional theology. The Psalms include great heights of praise and joy and thanksgiving for God as well as dark depths of despair and loss. They are full of emotion and feeling and have the sense of coming from the gut. Like music they speak to us in a unique and powerful way. Many of the psalms are credited as being written by King David – the most well known king of Israel. Scholars disagree on exactly how many of them were in fact written by David. David was known as a musician so it is likely that he did compose at least some of the psalms. But many that are credited to him use language that is dramatically different from the language of his time. In the ancient world it was an honor to attribute a piece of writing to someone else who was revered. Rather than being considered dishonest work or plagiarism it was common for authors to write things in the name of someone else. In the case of Psalm 23 it is impossible to determine for sure if David wrote this beautiful piece. He was a shepherd, however, so it is certainly very possible, likely perhaps, that he crafted this piece that features God as shepherd.

            That background aside, it is the metaphor of God as shepherd that gives this psalm it framework, its handle, and its thrust. “The Lord is my Shepherd.” We do not see shepherds and sheep most of the time in our everyday lives – especially here in Madison, but shepherding was a well known vocation in the time of this psalm. Shepherds were responsible for the safety and provision of their sheep. They were responsible for keeping the sheep alive. Shepherding was a 24 hour a day, 7 days a week job. There was no moment when a shepherd could clock out or take a day off while the sheep just roamed the hillside by themselves. The shepherd had to be with the sheep at all times. The term shepherd was also known in the Ancient Near East to refer to human leaders: kings and other rulers were ideally shepherds of their people. The good ones took care of their kingdoms and looked out for the best for their people.

           So this is the guiding image of God in this psalm. That God is a shepherd for us. God is with us to care for us and look out for us. And not only us as a people or a human race or a world but us as individuals. The psalmist make the bold claim – The Lord is MY Shepherd. In the midst of all the sheep and all the other things going on around me God cares about this one sheep, me. The gospel writer Luke tells the story of a shepherd who cares so much about the one, individual lost sheep that he goes out of his way to find it, put it on his shoulders and carry it back to the flock. This is what God is like. God cares for each and every one of you so much that God will seek you out when you are lost. In the gospel of John we read the words of Jesus himself saying, “I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep.” One author has described Psalm 23 as a Hymn of Praise for Divine Diligence.

            This raises a difficult question, however, about God’s role in our lives and in the world. If God protects us like a shepherd protecting sheep how can such terrible things happen in the world? God doesn’t seem to be doing a very good job of protecting a lot of the time.

            This week was the 6^th anniversary of September 11^th. September 11^th was one of those tragedies that raises a lot of difficult questions. Where was God when planes hit the buildings? And when people jumped out of the windows 100 stories above the ground? What happened to God’s protection on that day?  Todd Beamer, a passanger on flight 93, recited Psalm 23 on his cell phone with the emergency call center operator just before his plane went down in Pennsylvania. “The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want…”
            September 11^th is one of those events that everyone remembers what they were doing when they heard the news. Erica and I had just moved to Princeton, New Jersey to begin seminary a few days before the attacks. We had, in fact, been in New York City on Saturday, September 8^th and had marveled at the twin towers against the skyline. The morning of September 11^th we left Princeton to drive 45 minutes south to Philadelphia to meet a pastor doing interesting work in the inner city. We were listening to music and didn’t have the radio on as we drove. We arrived in Philadelphia and went into the church looking for the pastor. He welcomed us and then took us straight over to a TV in their fellowship hall, muttering something about planes and the World Trade Center. We began watching the TV just as the 2^nd plane hit. We stood speechless in front of it for some time before finally going to the pastor’s house, a parsonage just next door to the church. There we watched live on TV as first one tower and then the second came crashing to the ground while the reporters struggled to even say the news while holding back their own sobs. One of the most vivid memories I have is of the pastor we were with repeating over and over again, “Oh, my God, Oh, my God, Oh my God.” We spent the rest of the day in the living room of this person we had just met watching the horror unfold while Philadelphia closed its downtown, and its train system and while we tried to get in touch with family members who were supposed to be on planes that morning and friends who lived just blocks from the towers in Manhattan.

            “Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God.”

            In many ways that gut level statement captures what Psalm 23 is all about. Those three simple words, “Oh – my – God” are a prayer, a plea, a cry for help. They ask, “Where is God right now?” What is going on? I am scared, I am lost. What the _____ is happening? But they are also a claim, a statement of truth, an affirmation, even a prayer of praise. Oh my God! Be with me Lord. I have nowhere else to turn. I cling on to you. I submit myself to you. You are my God. You are my shepherd. The Lord is my shepherd!

            Nowhere in Psalm 23 are we promised that life will not be difficult. In fact it is full of dark valleys. It is full of fear, disappointment and loss. The hillside we sheep are grazing on is covered with thorny bushes that will catch and entangle us and wolves that want to hunt and eat us. The psalm does not say that the Lord, the shepherd will remove all the darkness and difficulty out of our lives. It doesn’t say that all will be great and sunny skies. But what it does say is that the shepherd is with us. God is with us. The first verse and the last verse of Psalm 23 contain the familiar term for God – Yahweh. God is surrounding us on all sides. Before us and behind us. The affirmation of faith contained in this psalm is not blind. We don’t blindly believe in a God that works magic. Instead we must place radical trust in a God that is with us even in the midst of the darkness. The darkness remains but so does God – and God is there with us in it. Faith is not a magical elixir that will free us from all things bad. Faith is the radical trust that in the midst of life God is present with us. And we are not alone.

            One of our greatest fears is to be alone. Who wants to have zero friends on facebook? I experienced that this past week when I finally joined! … One of the hardest things about the death of a loved one is that we are left feeling alone. That reality is what led me to turn to Psalm 23 in the hospital while a family said goodbye to a father, brother, grandfather. Death makes us feel so alone. And that ultimately, is the hope and promise of Psalm 23. Not that we won’t have to face tragedy and loss but that when we do we are not in fact alone. God is with us. Like a shepherd with his sheep, God is present with us. God walks alongside of us. The Lord is our Shepherd.

            And then the verse continues…The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want. So God’s presence with us means that we won’t want for anything? Does that mean we should expect to get a new I-phone in the mail tomorrow? Or to receive straight A’s in class? Or to date the perfect person and have the biggest house and drive the fastest car? I mean those are all things we might want… But there is a problem with our English when we take this verse to mean that. The word “want” in English can have different meanings. On one level it means “desire” as in, “I want a new car.” But it can also mean almost the opposite. It can mean lack. As in, I am found wanting. Or I am not found wanting. Or there is nothing that I lack. Perhaps if we hadn’t gotten so attached to the traditional translations of Psalm 23 our modern bibles would read more accurately, “The Lord is my shepherd, I lack for nothing. Or even, “The Lord is my Shepherd, what more shall I need.”

            That is a challenging question for us. What more do we need? Much, if not most, of what we think we need we do not in fact need. We live a lot of our lives seeking after more stuff, more money and more things. It may in fact be that if you don’t already have something then you really don’t need it. Last night at dinner our 3 year-old daughter Emma said something pretty remarkable for a child. She said, “When grammy comes to visit next week we should tell her not to bring any more presents. I already have so many toys. We won’t have anywhere to put more things.” I am not sure that she really means this but her words are very true. We already have a lot of toys. We confuse God with Santa Claus and make our prayers into a list of what we want. That is not what this psalm is about. While we are certainly free to express our needs and desires to God this psalm is not about getting what we want. It is instead an affirmation of what we already have. The rest of the psalm is a description of what it looks like to live under the care of the shepherd God and lack for nothing. It is a marvelous picture of a faithful God. It is also a challenge to us to submit ourselves to this shepherd. To trust and to follow God. To let the Good Shepherd lead and guide us. We may continue to have questions and struggle with doubts. We will certainly face sorrow and difficulty and dark valleys. But we are promised that we will not walk through those valleys alone. We will not be alone.

            About 10 years ago a story and picture was published in a number of widely circulated magazines about two twins. The twins had been born premature and at that time premature twins were separated immediately and placed into individual intensive care incubators. One of the two began struggling more and more with her health. Her heart rate slowed and her temperature began dropping. She was not expected to live. A nurse in the neo-natal ward decided to ignore hospital policy and placed the healthier twin inside the incubator with the sick little girl. Almost immediately the tiny little baby threw her arm around her struggling sister and snuggled up close. Very quickly the sister’s heart rate began to speed up and her temperature began to rise. With the presence of her sister by her side the struggling baby regained her strength and survived. After seeing the miraculous change hospitals began putting multiple birth babies together in incubators. Here is the picture they call the “Rescuing Hug”: http://hugsheal.blogspot.com/2007/11/recuing-hug.html

            If you can catch even a glimpse of it - God is throwing an arm around you. God is reaching out to you to give you new strength and new life. God is present in your space. The shepherd God doesn’t show up just at funerals but at all times in life. Perhaps you will feel God’s touch in a moment of silent reflection, in a song or piece of art, in some wonderous thing you are taught in class, in a sunset over the lake or in the embrace of a caring friend. So lay claim to the words of Psalm 23 – you are not alone, God is with you. Follow the Good Shepherd and let Him lead you through dark valleys and each of the moments of your life. Because we are not alone: The Lord is our Shepherd what more shall we need?”

This sermon was preached at the Pres House Dedication. The text is Ezekiel 37:1-14.

            About seven years ago, Mark and I made the fateful decision to enter into seminary. Having lived my entire life in the San Francisco Bay Area of California, I was inclined to pursue our theological education on the West Coast where the surroundings were familiar and family was close by. However, after months of thinking, talking, and praying, we made our choice to head to the East Coast for our degrees.

I very clearly remember the day we packed up our Honda Civic—Mark liked to refer to it as our trusty little steed. We loaded it up with all our belongings and waved goodbye to our families as we drove away. We made it about one block before we had to pull over because we were crying so hard. I felt especially unsure about leaving everything I had ever known without a clear assurance that we would be returning home. California was to me, the promise land! I wondered why I had decided to exile myself from the promise land to the far-off and strange state of New Jersey. Well, after pulling ourselves together, we continued on our way and as we collected miles in our trusty little steed, my sadness slowly dissipated and in its place sprang a growing excitement for what lay ahead.

            We had planned to drive our way across the country, making it a two week road venture in which we would see as many great sites as we could. Our first stop was Yosemite where we bought our National Parks pass. We marveled at God’s beautiful creation, took some pictures, and then hopped back into our little steed to press on. That night we camped out beneath a beautiful mountain, enjoying the stars and a meal over a toasty fire. In the morning we folded up our tent, checked the map, and then hit the road again.

            Our next National Park stop was quite different from Yosemite. After chugging up a steep incline, we pulled over to get a view of the valley that lay beneath us. This wasn’t just any valley, it was the infamous Death Valley. Numerous road signs warned us about the lack of any service stations, water, or help if we chose to make the descent into the valley. A barren and dry land with nothing but intense heat waves lay ahead, and the signs made clear that we continued on at our own risk.

            I started having second thoughts about visiting this national landmark. When all the signs say danger, and the place itself has “death” in its name, it makes one pause. Mark was much more confident in our trusty little steed, and finally convinced me that we should just drive through the valley rather than take a much longer route around it. I reluctantly agreed, trying to push visions of an overheated engine out of my head.

            So we made our long way down into the valley and then across the valley floor. I could hear our Honda start to work harder so we turned off the air conditioning to avoid overheating. The knot in my stomach grew tighter as I held my breath, worried that our little steed would not be able to make the climb back out of Death Valley. Suddenly Mark pulled over and turned the car off to which I promptly exclaimed, “What the heck are you doing?!”

Unlike my own very conscientious awareness of the risks that lay all around us, Mark was excited and seemed a bit clueless of the dangers which surrounded us. “Look at those salt flats and ground breaking up! I want to get a picture!” Before I could say anything, he was out of the car with the camera like a naïve tourist, wandering further and further away. I wisely stayed put in the car, panicking as I could feel the heat cooking my body like the proverbial frog in a pot of boiling water.

            After what seemed an eternity, Mark finally got back in armed with his pictures, including one of me sitting in the car looking very cross. To my relief, our trusty little steed started with no problem and we continued on our journey away from Death Valley and its surrounding towns called Badwater and Furnace Creek. Both those names indicated to me that people who had spent any significant time in this area spoke from experience—this place was not somewhere you wanted to stay.

            Today’s scripture reading from the prophet Ezekiel recalls a similar valley. About 2500 years ago the people of Israel lived in exile, far away from the promise land and scattered around the Babylonian region. Cut off from their ancestral roots and crushed by a foreign power, the Israelites had endured a long season of suffering and their outlook was pretty bleak. One could imagine that the women and men of Israel experienced such hardships in their exile that they named their new homes, Badwater and Furnace Creek. They no longer had any hope that things would change; they believed themselves to be cut off from the presence of God.

            It is in this setting that Ezekiel receives a startling vision from God. The spirit of the Lord brings him to a valley that is full of bones. Not just a skeleton here and there, but a vast array of bones covering the whole area so that one cannot even see the land beneath them. The ghastliness is not in the blood and gore, because in fact there are no body parts to be seen. The real shock is actually in how clean the bones are, how dry the bones are. What the valley indicated was a multitude of people who had not only died, but who were left without a proper burial so that scavengers had picked them clean; then the relentless sun dried them up even more. This valley truly deserved the name, Death Valley.

            God tells Ezekiel that these bones are the house of Israel. This vivid image illustrates how the people feel and what they believe about their situation: “Our bones are dried up, and our hope is lost; we are cut off completely.” After years of languishing in exile, the Israelites are depressed and have given into despair. They do not see any future and they have been sucked dry of any hopes and dreams that they will return to the promise land.

            Even Ezekiel, a faithful prophet, has doubts about the situation. God asks him if the bones can live, and he responds somewhat dubiously, “O Lord God, you know…” But then something unexpected happens; God gives Ezekiel a command: “Prophesy to these bones, and say to them: O dry bones, hear the word of the LORD.  ⁵ Thus says the Lord GOD to these bones: I will cause breath to enter you, and you shall live.  ⁶ I will lay sinews on you, and will cause flesh to come upon you, and cover you with skin, and put breath in you, and you shall live; and you shall know that I am the LORD.”

            So Ezekiel speaks the prophesy and to his astonishment, a rattling begins and bones start flying together, followed quickly by sinews, flesh and skin. Before he knows it, God has conducted an elaborate and amazing symphony of human creation, right before his eyes. However, Ezekiel notices that there is something missing—there is an orchestra, but no music. God’s breath has not entered into these newly formed bodies.

            And so the instructions come again for Ezekiel to prophesy, to call upon the breath to come into these empty bodies. The word here for breath is ruah, which can also be translated wind or spirit. The word ruah recalls to mind God’s creation of humankind in the book of Genesis when God breathes the breath of life into the nostrils of Adam. This ruah is what ultimately makes us in the image of God, what makes us truly alive. Without ruah, we are simply bodies without purpose—though we may be intricately composed and beautifully made, we lack the breath of God that brings us to vibrant and full life.

            Ezekiel calls for this breath to enter into the newly formed bodies where formerly there lay only dry bones. Ruah renews the house of Israel, breathing new life and purpose into a people once cut off from any hope. With ruah, the people of Israel once again understand that they have been created to be in a covenant relationship with God; they are to worship God and live as a people who seek to follow God’s commands. In the words of the prophet Micah, they are to be a people who do justly, love mercy, and walk humbly with their God. This is the promise which God gives to the house of Israel— “I will put my spirit within you, and you shall live.” With ruah, they will be saved from their exile and once again be the people of God.           

            Looking back upon my seminary years in New Jersey, I can say that there was a period of time in which I felt I had been exiled to a place called Badwater and Furnace Creek. The turmoil that comes with uprooting from a home, the confusion of new ideas and challenges to a familiar faith, and an uncertainty about God’s call in my life started to dry me up. At one time I experienced the reassuring presence of God in my life, but during seminary I started to feel like the spirit of God, the ruah, had left me. I was becoming a pile of dry bones.

            Many of you know what it’s like to be far from home and trying to process through all sorts of strange, new circumstances. Perhaps you too have experienced a season of dryness in your life, a time in which you felt robbed of hope and cut off from God. From all appearances, you were convinced that nothing could change the situation and things were destined to remain the same. A lingering depression, a broken relationship, a growing sense that God was absent from your life. Or maybe you’ve left that valley of dry bones, but you still remain an empty body without breath. The good news that we are reminded of from the prophet Ezekiel is that God intends to bring us back to life. God desires to put ruah into us, to breathe God’s spirit into our nostrils so that we become fully alive. Those piles of bones will be transformed into a wondrous new creation with the promise of new hope.

            Today at Pres House, we are marking a significant milestone in its hundred year old existence. The founders of this ministry had many hopes and dreams for the students who would call this place home. From those aspirations, hard work went into creating a beautiful chapel which would reflect the glory of God. The building in which we currently sit was finished during the Great Depression, a major feat considering the economic hardship of the times. Amazing as it was, however, it was just an empty body until ruah, God’s spirit, entered in and gathered a student worshipping community committed to following after the Lord. Some of you present here can attest to the vibrancy of Pres House in the mid-twentieth century which produced thousands of faithful Christian leaders.

            Over the years Pres House has gone through many different stages, much as we do over the course of our lives. And there were times when it felt a bit like a valley of dry bones. The vision to create student housing was born in 1907, but it became a lost dream for many years as resources and funding began to wane. Not only did the hope for housing fade away, but this building began to dry out as years went by without sufficient funds to upkeep it. There came a critical moment, not too long ago, when the building was almost sold. It seemed that the life of Pres House was coming to an end and it would be left in Death Valley.

            But then something unexpected happened. Ezekiel’s vision of the dry bones grabbed the imagination of some faithful modern-day prophets, and people in the area started to hear some rattling noises. Though Ezekiel hesitated to answer God’s question, “Can these bones live,” an emerging belief formed about Pres House’s bones. So to the question, “Can these Pres House bones live?” came a growing response, “O Lord God, you know!” And so the dream of the Pres House Residence started to take solid form.

Like Ezekiel’s amazing vision, the rattling noises grew louder and louder. Bones came together, as dirt was moved, foundations poured, and steel beams were erected. Then sinews appeared as pipes, hardware, and walls were constructed. Flesh formed as drywall, carpet, and appliances were installed. Finally skin covered the body as bricks and stones completed a beautiful new building, the Pres House Residence.

            For those of you who were in Madison one year ago, you can attest to how the dry bones of Pres House have come together. Not just next door, but also in this building that we are sitting in. The physical transformation of Pres House has been remarkable, but that is not what’s most exciting. Though we are pleased with the elegant architecture, fine craftsmanship, and aesthetic beauty, what brings us the most joy is that new breath has been inhaled into the nostrils of Pres House. It is not simply a physical restoration, but rather a spiritual resurrection.

We are here today because ruah, the spirit of God, has entered in and given us a renewed hope and dream. From those piles of bones that marked the broken parts of our lives, God conducts a magnificent symphony that we have never heard before. We experience a bit of Holy Spirit CPR as we are resuscitated and provided changed hearts and fresh eyes to see the purposes of God. As we receive ruah, we are empowered to do bold things such as seeking justice, loving mercy, and walking humbly with God. This is ultimately what Ezekiel’s vision of the valley of dry bones is about. God promises to put new breath in us so that we can live as we were intended to live—ruah filled in the image of God.

On this Dedication Sunday we have gathered to claim this truth not just in our individual lives, but also for Pres House. Our imaginations have once again been let loose as the Holy Spirit brings an excitement for what this place can be. Can you picture it? A home where broken people can come and find healing for their wounds. A space where students discover how their gifts and passions can be used by God. A place where men and women grow into faithful servants who bring food to the hungry, help to the poor, and hope for the suffering. There are so many possibilities—God’s vision is boundless!

 It is our dream that this growing community will be shaped by ruah into a people of God who breathe new life into this campus and city. That Pres House will be a windy place as ruah blows through, bringing forth changed lived and a real hope for our world. In the end, it is this spirit that makes Pres House more than a building; ruah, the breath of God, is what brings Pres House to vibrant and true life. Thanks be to our amazing Creator! Amen.

I had to trick Erica into going on a date with me. Yes, I had to be kind of sly. Well she didn’t think it was that sly but it worked.  We had been friends for a long time. We worked together at a kids’ day camp during the summer between our sophomore and junior years of college. We took a class together. We went to the same church. We drove down to Yosemite from Berkeley to hike up Half Dome with some friends. So we had gotten to know each other pretty well. And she was quite attractive to me in lots of ways. So as we entered our junior year of college I was spending more time with Erica – and spending more time thinking about her. We studied together which entailed dragging a pile of books to a café that remained closed while we talked for hours. But we were still just friends. 
         
I began to realize that my feelings might be more than that when I started looking out for her coming out of class. That fall I worked early in the mornings in one of the humanities buildings. After work I had some time to kill before going to my first class. So I sometimes found a bench outside to lie down on and take a little nap (remember this was in California, not Wisconsin cold!). One day early in the semester I saw Erica coming out of the classroom building next to the bench I was lying on. She stopped to talk for a few minutes. After that I began going to the same bench each day so I would have a chance to see her for a few minutes before class. That was when I realized that my interest in her might be a little more than just friends.
         
As the semester wore on we found more excuses to spend time together: meeting for lunch on campus, taking hikes in the hills above the city, even skipping class (gasp!) to hang out on the grass on nice days. It was a wonderful time in our relationship – we were just friends but just being friends was good enough. It was exciting and fun to get to know each other and enjoy each other’s company. Eventually, however, it got to be obvious that we were spending an awful lot of time together. So I decided to take a gentle step towards something more. I tricked Erica into going on a date with me.
         
It started out innocently. I asked her to go to the beach one Friday afternoon. So we drove to the beach and had a good time just hanging out. Afterwards I suggested we drive into San Francisco for dinner. From the beach that was north of the city we had to drive over the Golden Gate Bridge to get into San Francisco. The toll for the bridge cost $3. I had left my wallet in the trunk so as we got to the toll Erica pulled out some money to pay. I apologized for not having the toll money and then I said, “Okay, well if you pay for the toll I will pay for dinner.” It was a pretty ridiculous trade off – not at all equal. A dinner for toll money?! But I wanted to test the waters and see if she was willing to let me pay for dinner. I figured if she would then she was okay with a “date-like” night. If she was absolutely opposed to dating me she would refuse my offer to pay.
         
There was silence for a minute. Then she said something like, “Well that isn’t much of a trade off but...okay.” So it was going somewhere. Sometimes the littlest things carry the most meaning. After a nice dinner we drove back over the Golden Gate Bridge and went up to a lookout point over the city. We didn’t kiss, we didn’t hold hands, we didn’t talk about dating but it was definitely our first “date”. The rest is obviously history!
         
So why am I telling you a long story about my romantic past when we are supposed to be talking about a covenant relationship with God? We are in the second week of a two part look at a covenant relationship with God. Last week we looked at self-assertion against God in the form of complaint and lament. As we saw in the book of Job a real relationship with God involves arguing, complaining, and questioning. But a real relationship also involves giving ourselves to God. So this week we are looking at self-abandonment to God, praise of God. Next week is the dating, marriage topic. Why bring dating up now? I bring it up for a basic reason. Self-abandonment to God is about love. We abandon ourselves to God because God loves us and we offer praise because of our love for God. It is about love. And one of my most formative experiences with love takes place in the context of my marriage. Profound love occurs in a variety of different relationships – marriage is not the only place. It just happens to be an experience that I can talk about. So though I am using the example of my relationship with Erica I am not really talking about dating or marriage specifically – I am talking about love.
         
For our scripture this week I have chosen two different passages about love. One you are probably very familiar with – it is written on cardboard at sporting events and may be the most memorized verse in American Christianity. The other passage comes from a book that you may not know even exists in the bible – Song of Songs, or Song of Solomon as it is sometimes called. Song of Songs is a love poem between two lovers. It doesn’t contain a single reference to God or anything religious at all. It is, however, full of very explicit sexual imagery. And it is about love. 

So let’s hear the first verse. John 3:16

God loves us. This is a phrase that is thrown around all the time in church. It is kind of old hat – but it is truly an amazing statement. The God of the universe loves each simple, flawed, human being with an incredible love. A love that led to God going to great lengths to have a relationship with us by sending God’s own son to live among us and ultimately die on our behalf. God loves us. God loves you.
         
Valentines Day is on Wednesday. The day of love. The stores are full of cheesy cards. Florists do good business selling red roses. Even Starbucks is getting in on the action by selling Valentines chocolate. But what does it mean to love? What is love? What does it look like to love someone and be loved by someone? Song of Songs captures in its erotic imagery some of the truth about love, not only romantic love, but love of other kinds. Song of Songs is the only book in the Bible that is dominated by a female voice. The passage we are going to hear from it begins with the female talking about the one she loves. Then she reports his words to her before it ends with her voice again. It is full of nature imagery and pet names between lovers. Listen to the beautiful poetry of love. Song of Songs 2:8-17

I don’t really understand poetry very well, but like music it captures emotion in a way that other kinds of literature cannot. Song of Songs captures the richness and complexity of love. Love is complicated. It is exciting and mundane, passionate and committed, up and down, it requires self-assertion as well as self-abandonment. It is a relationship and relationships don’t conform to rules, expectations or plans. They happen. The speaker in this passage is clearly overwhelmed with her feelings about her lover. She is attracted to him. And not just physically – they have a deep emotional connection. She admires him. And the man is equally enamored by her. When he speaks to her he asks her to come away with him to some unknown place so they can be together. Because of their love he feels like it is spring all around – everything is bright and lively. They revel in each others’ love. There is something so empowering about being loved by another whether that be a spouse, a parent, a close friend, a sibling...or God. Human beings are created to be relational and we thrive on love. But it isn’t all straightforward. The passage ends with the woman telling her lover to leave her and return at another time. She puts off his request that they go away together – at least for the time being. Even as she is overwhelmed by his love there is some resistance to the full commitment the relationship requires.

I said that after my first date with Erica the rest was history. Obviously that isn’t really true. Life and relationship don’t work like they do in the movies where there is a five minute montage of exciting dates set to fun music followed by the couple having sex or moving in together or getting married. Happily ever after doesn’t just happen. Relationships are complex. Erica and I went through numerous ups and downs and changes to our relationship – and we still do. After our first date we kept seeing each other until one day I called her and asked her to come over to my apartment so we could talk about our relationship. We needed to have a DTR – we needed to define the relationship because it was getting weird to say we were friends when we spent so much time together. So Erica came over and proceeded to talk non-stop for about 3 hours preventing me from bringing up the subject. It wasn’t until after mid-night that we finally got to it. And it turned out that yes, we were interested in each other romantically. Duh. But we still resisted the idea of being attached. So we said we were “seeing each other” instead of dating. I don’t even really know what the distinction was but we felt it important. Of course after a few more weeks, more dates and our first kiss we began admitting that we were in fact dating. We were a couple. Over the next year and a half we had romantic dates as well as study dates. We were excited to make out and we learned how to do mundane things like shop for groceries together. We expressed deep admiration and love for each other and we had loud fights. It was complex. It was real. 

One of the fun things I remember we did for each other was to leave notes on each other’s car. We would often park our cars in the church parking lot for various volunteer activities we did there. If I was walking home by the church and Erica’s car was in the parking lot I would jot a little love note on a receipt or napkin or slip of paper and slip it under the windshield wiper for her to find when she came out. She did the same for me. Even though we saw each other a lot it was fun to know that we were thinking about each other. It is nice to get love letters! 

As our relationship progressed it became quickly obvious that being in love required something of us. We could not live the same way we had before we were together. We had to make room for the other in our lives. We had to give something up. And we wanted to. We wanted to be together. We were in love. But it did require something of us. It is a small example but both of us gave up our athletic pursuits because of our relationship. Erica was close to getting her black-belt in Tae-Kwon-Do which required many hours of practice each week. I was dabbling in bicycle racing with the cycling team. Between classes, work, and church we had to give up our time spent on sports to make time for each other. We also had to give up dating other people. It is kind of obvious I couldn’t go on a date with Erica and then go make out with another girl the next day. That just doesn’t work. There is such a thing as a good form of jealousy. Lovers want the full devotion, time and interest of their beloved.

The word “my” is used 9 times in the passage from Song of Songs. “My beloved, my love, my fair one, my dove.” The lovers make a claim on each other. They are possessive of each other. The woman says, “My beloved is mine and I am his.” I am my beloved’s and he is mine.  They demand self-abandonment from the other. Not complete absorption of one into the other – there are still two distinct people – but self-abandonment. To love you have to give yourself to another. Do you remember those little candy hearts you ate as a kid (maybe you still eat!)? One of the little phrases printed on the sickly sweet hearts is “Be Mine” Be mine. 

I wanted to be Erica’s and for her to be mine. I wanted to give myself to her and receive her self-abandonment to me. And yet it is scary. It is risky. It requires commitment. It requires letting go of walls and opening ourselves up to another. During our senior year we began talking about the possibility of getting married. I was sure it was the right thing to do and Erica wasn’t sure she was ready. So we spent a day by ourselves out in nature thinking and praying about getting married. She came back ready to get married – but I came back with some doubts. Needless to say she was mad! Eventually I got over it and we did get engaged, the best decision I have ever made! But the commitment of marriage – the covenant relationship -- is scary. It is risky. It is overwhelming. 

I am going on again about my dating and marriage life in a sermon about covenant with God, but I am going somewhere with this. A covenant relationship with God is much like a relationship between lovers. We are in a love relationship with God. At least we can be sure God is in a love relationship with us. Like the lovers in Song of Songs God is in a love relationship with you. Imagine God leaving you a love note on your car, your bike, in your backpack or your mailbox. Perhaps it would read something like, “Arise my love, my fair one, and come away with me. I have loved you since before you were born. I know your joys and your fears. You are my beloved. Come away with me. You are mine and I want to be yours. Come away with me my beloved.” Imagine a love note from God. The feeling of excitement of getting such a note. Of knowing that you are loved unconditionally. Of walking into a difficult situation in your life knowing – “hey even if this is a disaster at least I am loved. If I fail this test. If I have trouble with my health. If I lose a friend. At least I am loved. I am still sad. I still hurt. I still worry. But I am loved. I am loved by God.” 

God has left us a love note. The Bible is a love note from God. But more amazingly God sent us a speaking telegram. A healing telegram. A sacrificial telegram announcing God’s love for us. God sent his only Son Jesus Christ that we may have eternal life! God has sent us a love note in Jesus Christ. We may find it hard to hear or hard to believe but we are assured that God loves us. God loves you.

And so we are invited into a dynamic covenant relationship with God. God has abandoned Godself to us. God wants us to reciprocate in a covenant relationship. We are free to complain and argue just I complain and argue with Erica at times. We are free to say sorry when we make mistakes and to receive forgiveness. We are free to remain ourselves in relationship with God. But we are also free to give ourselves to God. To abandon ourselves to our lover. That is what it means to praise God. Edward Buri, a seminary student, put it this way, “you are God’s and God is yours, let your hearts find their pulse from this knowledge.”

We spend time with the things we love. I love bicycling. I still ride. But I was willing to give up some of my riding to be with someone I loved more – Erica. We give ourselves to the things we love. We think about the things we love. We spend time on the things we love. Love relationships involve abandoning ourselves. As we abandon ourselves to God we are compelled to show our love. Songs of praise roll off our lips and prayers of thanksgiving fill our hearts.  Our covenant relationship with God is the basis of our ethical decisions and actions. We don’t always want to follow God’s commands in our lives. But ideally we follow God’s laws because we love the God who made them. We read the Bible and pray because we want to spend time with the one we love. We care for other people because God (whom we love) cares for other people. We sing songs of praise to God and come to worship because of the joy of the relationship. Our covenant relationship with God requires commitment and it demands responsibility from us, not out of guilt, but out of love. I wash the dishes at home, don’t go out with other women, and spend time with Erica because I love her. Not because I am forced to but because I am in a covenant relationship with her.

Song of Songs is a poem about the fullness of a love relationship. What would a poem about your relationship with God sound like? Is it full of the excitement of admiration and longing? Do you look out for God coming out of class like I did for Erica? Do you have a pet name for God? God invites you to run away together. Do you? Do you run away with your beloved – taking the plunge into the covenant that is so rich with ups and downs, fears and joys, responsibility and passion? Do you spend time with God? Do you abandon yourself? It may be hard for you to feel this way about God – that is natural. Thankfully you can usually catch a glimpse of John 3:16 while watching a football game and there is a poem expressing God’s love for us already written. The truth is this: God is yours and you are God’s – let that love relationship fill you with joy, guide your life, and overflow in praise! “You are God’s and God is yours, let your hearts find their pulse from this knowledge.”

_{Note: Edward Buri quoted in "The Search for Covenanted Selves: Considering Twentysomethings Postponing Commitments," by Katherine Wiebe, 2005.}

Scripture: Luke 4:14-21

Last Monday was Martin Luther King Jr. day. The stock exchange was closed, no mail was delivered and many people had the day off work to mark the birthday of a man who gave his life fighting for justice. Three years ago Erica went into labor with Emma on January 14^th the day before Dr. King’s birthday. We had hoped she would have been born on the 15^th so she would have shared the birthday of a man we believe was a truly a gift from God to this country. Unfortunately Erica’s labor was very long and Emma wasn’t born until mid-day on January 16^th. But that has now become a very special day for our family also. The week around the 15^th and 16^th of January is always meaningful to me. It is a time when I stop and reflect on gifts. The gift of my beautiful daughter and the gift of a prophetic voice.

Martin Luther King Jr. day is important. It is important not only because it honors the life and death of a great man. It is important because it reminds us of his work and his cause. A cause that is just as relevant and critical today as it was in 1968. It is true that in large part because of the work of Dr. King great strides have been taken in race relations and civil rights since the 1960s. There is much more awareness of racism and many institutional forms of discrimination have been removed. Before 1967 Erica and I would not have been allowed to marry in many states. Interracial marriage was illegal. In 1967 the Supreme Court ruled that bans on interracial marriage were unconstitutional. But there is still a long way to go. It wasn’t until 1998, 9 years ago, that South Carolina voted to remove their ban on interracial marriage from the state constitution. Just nine years ago! Of course it was only symbolic but even so a whopping 22 percent of voters opposed removing the ban from the constitution! Racism and racial tension is alive and well in our country. We do not live in a color-blind society and the playing field is far from level.

Dr. Cornell West, an African-American professor at Princeton University (also known for his cameo in one of the Matrix movies) writes about some of his experiences of racism. He tells of being refused a taxi ride in New York City nine times when he was trying to get to the photo shoot for the cover of one of his bestselling books. The title? “Race Matters.” He had to give up and take the subway. When he first moved to Princeton he was stopped three times by police for driving too slowly on a residential street. Racism is alive and well. And it isn’t always white racism against black people (although that is unfortunately very common). Racism occurs across all lines. Erica can tell you numerous stories of horrible comments made to her by people of all kinds of races. Just this past month a Latino gang killed a black 14 year-old girl in Los Angeles because they were simply looking for a black person to shoot. The story in the New York Times described her as “an eighth grader who loved junk food and watched Court TV with her mother. She had recently written a poem beginning: “I am black and beautiful. I wonder how I will be living in the future.”” Two weeks ago a Hmong hunter was killed by a white hunter in the woods here in northern Wisconsin. He was married and had five children as young as three years old. Many think it was racially motivated. It could be connected to another racially charged hunting killing that took place two years ago in Minnesota when a Hmong hunter shot 6 white men after they yelled racial slurs at him. Racism is alive and well from urban LA to the woods of Wisconsin.

But our scripture today speaks a message of hope into the reality of our divided world. One of the things that is often forgotten about Martin Luther King Jr. is that he was not just an effective organizer and a powerful speaker – he was a minister, a preacher, a Christian. He did the things he did out of a strong faith in the gospel of Jesus Christ. He embodied many of the teachings of Jesus in his work for justice. He wasn’t perfect, far from it, but God used him to bring good news to those who needed it.

This passage from Luke is Jesus’ announcement of his ministry. The people are already familiar with him and his miracles but it is here that he announces his presence as one sent by God. He enters the synagogue and joins a participatory gathering of people. Jesus gets up to teach, to preach from the scriptures. The passage he chooses comes from Isaiah. It is a passage associated with the expected Messiah – the savior of the Jews. Jesus reads from the scroll a beautiful message of hope, a message of restoration that had been originally written while the Jews were in exile centuries earlier. After proclaiming hope and restoration Jesus sits down. The people wait for something more. Then he announces that this prophesy about the coming Messiah has been fulfilled in their very presence. He is the one spoken about in the prophesy. He is the one who has come to preach good news to the poor!

One of the striking things about the words Jesus speaks in announcing the beginning of his ministry is the marriage of physical and spiritual, words and actions together as a seamless whole. The “poor” who are given good news are the spiritually poor as well as the physically poor. They are anyone who is oppressed, downtrodden, disliked or abused. Anyone without food or money. Anyone incomplete or damaged. Anyone hurting or lonely. The blind are those who cannot see spiritual truth as well as those who cannot see their own sandals. Throughout the rest of the gospel Luke narrates stories of Jesus continuing to teach spiritual truth as well as actually healing physical bodies and feeding hungry stomachs. The message that Jesus preaches in the synagogue that day is an active message. It is more than simply saying some words but it involves the whole self – the whole self of the one sharing the good news and the whole self of the one receiving it.

So what do the people do after Jesus announces that he is there to bring good news to the poor? Look at the next few verses. Luke 4:22-30. At first those listening respond positively to his message. It is a wonderful proclamation of hope after all and many of the people listening probably saw themselves in the message. Perhaps they were thinking Jesus might bring them deliverance from the Romans. But they are mistaken about the full import of his message. They misunderstand for one, who Jesus is claiming to be. They know him as the son of Joseph when in fact he is the son of God. And they like the message when it is directed at them but they aren’t so thrilled when Jesus goes on to say that the message is for a much wider group than those in the synagogue. In fact, he predicts rightly that the people in his hometown will reject him. Jesus didn’t come especially for them but for the poor of all kinds. As they begin to understand that he is claiming to be the son of God come to offer good news to the world their praise turns into fear and anger and they set out to kill him. Jesus escapes this time but it is a foreshadowing of what will come later on the cross.

There is something so true about this reaction. We want freedom, success, happiness, wealth – for ourselves. And we talk about how we want it for others, even for everyone. But do we really? In many ways we resist a message of good news to the “other” poor. The people outside our circle. I think this happens for two reasons. First, if it doesn’t appear to be our problem we don’t think much about it. Why bother with something that isn’t bothering me? I live this everyday as a white man. I rarely have to think about race, especially my race. It is not often that I am a minority – usually only when I am with my in-laws sharing a Taiwanese meal. When I drive I don’t worry about being stopped because of the color of my skin. Even though I am a second generation American the same as Erica I am never asked, “Where are you from” the way she is all the time. I am not really worried about the government wiretapping my phone because my skin is white and my last name is English. I simply don’t think about race unless I choose to. But millions of other Americans do. Race is always present. You can’t walk away from the way you look. And you shouldn’t have to. Minorities live with racial tensions every day. Every single day.

The second reason we aren’t always so excited about good news for the poor is that is might cost us something. It might cost us some of our income in the form of taxes if we are going to help poor schools that don’t get funded by wealthy parents. It might cost us some time to learn about the needs of the poor and get involved in their lives. It might cost us our comfortable position of power and privilege in order to make room for others. I might have to learn Spanish and Chinese and not just assume everyone will do things the way I do them. Ultimately it might cost us our prejudices and stereotypes. 

When I was a graduate student at seminary I helped organize a workshop for incoming students on race relations. Believe it or not racism was alive and well even at seminary. Part of this process involved working with leaders of the various ethnic students groups. One afternoon I had a meeting with the president of the African-American student association. I told him that as a white man in a position of privilege at the seminary I felt that I need to do something to help my brothers and sisters who were more marginalized by the administration and their fellow students. As a white person I could speak to other white people and get beyond their complaint that minorities were always playing the “race card.” My friend agreed that this was true and was glad that I was making the effort. But he also challenged me on a fundamental flaw in my thinking. He said, “Mark, racism on this campus affects you too.” It doesn’t just hurt me - racism hurts you. I was still operating as if it didn’t matter to me. Sure I was thinking about it. And in a small way I was willing to give something up to help. But I was still operating in an us/them paradigm. My friend flipped it on its head and showed me that racism costs me too. At seminary it cost me the opportunity to be taught African-American theology because there was a serious lack of it in the classroom. It cost me the chance to hear from students of other races in our discussion classes because other white students would dominate the conversation and marginalize the minorities. It hurt me because my friends, my fellow Christian brothers and sisters are hurt by racism. It hurt me too. Racism hurts all of us.
 
In the same way we cannot ignore the plight of the poor in our cities. When others suffer we end up suffering too even if we don’t realize it. Racism leads to poverty, poverty often breeds crime, and crime robs us of lives and endangers us all. Discriminatory police practices destroy whole groups of people by putting them in jail and the ripples effect reaches all of us. We are all connected. We are connected as God’s children and we are connected in life. The internet and global business demonstrate that. The nation of Somalia is in utter disrepair and abject poverty. There is no government to speak of. And it is a breeding ground for terrorism which will extend its reach all across the globe. We are all connected. So the good news for the poor is in fact good news for us all. 

Jesus preached good news to the poor. His message was one of hope, restoration, and of ACTION. God brings about restoration ultimately. Not us. But we are invited to participate. We are invited to act and be ambassadors of the good news to the poor of all kinds. To each other in this community, to homeless, to hungry, to prisoners, to the lonely, to those who don’t know the love of God. We are invited to participate. In a minute Hansi and Jeremy are going to tell us about their move to Milwaukee to serve a community that has serious needs and to be ambassadors of the good news. Over on the table by the door you will see applications for the Spring Break - Break with a Purpose mission trip. We will be going to inner city Chicago to learn about the needs of the poor, develop relationships with people of different racial backgrounds, and offer our selves as God’s servants. It might cost you your spring break and a few dollars but it is worth it because the poverty of people in Chicago is your poverty too.

I like Martin Luther King Jr. day because it is a reminder. It is a challenge. Dr. King was an ambassador of God’s good news to the poor. In 1968, just a few months before his assassination, he preached a sermon called Drum Major Instinct. At the end of the sermon he reflected on his own funeral. He said this, “If any of you are around when I have to meet my day, I don’t want a long funeral...Tell them not to mention that I have a Nobel Peace Prize, that isn’t important. Tell them not to mention that I have three or four hundred other awards, that’s not important. I’d like somebody to mention that day, that Martin Luther King Jr. gave his life serving others...that I tried to love somebody. I want you to say that day, that I tried to be right on the war question...that I did try to feed the hungry...that I did try...to clothe those who were naked. I want you to say, on that day, that I did try to visit those who were in prison. I want you to say that I tried to love and serve humanity...If I can do my duty as a Christian ought, if I can bring salvation to a world once wrought, if I can spread the message as the master taught, then my living will not be in vain.” --- My living will not be in vain. Amen.

Martin Luther King Jr. quote is from "A Testament of Hope," edited by James Washington, 1986, Harper Collins, NY.

This is the fourth advent sermon based on the scripture passage Luke 1:39-45.

I have gained a new appreciation for the Christmas story since having a child of my own. Emma was born in mid-January so the Christmas before her birthday Erica and I were waiting expectantly like Mary and Joseph for a baby to come. Now that we are expecting our second child I am thinking about this again as Christmas roles around. Especially this week. On Wednesday this past week we got to see our second child – a little girl – on the ultrasound! It is incredible what you can see with ultrasounds – they are even better than a few years ago when Emma was born. At one point the ultrasound technician commented that the baby looked like she was doing aerobics because she was moving her legs and arms so much.

I wonder what Elizabeth would have seen if she could have witnessed her baby, John the Baptist, leap for joy in her womb. What does a leap for joy look like? In the womb? It would have been pretty fun to watch on the monitor! That image in this passage is so striking – when Mary comes to greet her relative Elizabeth, Elizabeth’s baby leaps for joy in her womb. He leaps because Mary is also pregnant. Pregnant with the baby Jesus – the coming Messiah, the Lord, God entering the world as a human baby.

I don’t know what it is like to feel a baby inside my body and I never will. But I do know that seeing the ultrasound is pretty exciting! It was a joyful moment. I was high all day on Wednesday after we had been to the hospital to see it. And the whole process of having a child is joyful. Hard, exhausting, often frustrating – but incredibly joyful. Often when I go to pick up Emma at her daycare provider she greets me with the most amazing smile. She sees me and says, “Daddy!” as if she couldn’t imagine anything she would want more than to see me at that moment. There is absolutely nothing better in the world then the feeling of being her dad. Or when I come home from work and I can hear her yelling down the stairs for me before I even get in from the garage. There is nothing better in the world than being loved by my daughter. It is truly joyful. And a special gift.

As I reflected on this passage I wondered to myself – What is joy? What does it mean to leap for joy? I know the feeling of joy when I hug my daughter. But what about when she yells and screams at me and tells me to go away? I know the feeling of joy when I am caught of guard by a powerful piece of music or a moving story on NPR. But what about the constant news of death in Iraq? I know the feeling of joy when I am out hiking in the woods and the air is fresh, the birds chirping and the views amazing. But what about the fact that miles of forest are destroyed by the minute and species go extinct each day? Can there be joy in the midst of sorrow? Can there be joy in the midst of tragedy? Can there actually be joy in the world?

What is joy? Is it the excitement of getting a new I-pod for Christmas? Is it the pride of receiving an A on a paper? These things are nice but they are more about happiness or pleasure – not always true joy. Joy is deeper than happiness. It is more meaningful than pleasure. It is not something that we create or bring about. We can buy a new toy to feel happy or enjoy the pleasure of a good meal. Joy might be found in those things, but if it is it will be outside of our control. It springs up unexpectedly. It takes us over in a wave of surprise. It is a passing moment. A feeling that is so hard to describe. Like walking along lakeshore path and catching the sunset in an indescribable moment. Or hearing a poem that brings tears to your eyes. It is rooted in something beyond just the physical. I remember hearing a song when I was a kid that said something like, “Joy is not in how things go. Joy is in the hope and truth we know.” Cheesy but true. Joy is not related to the ups and downs of everyday life. To the things we have, the things we do, the things that we create. It transcends a good day and hopefully even a bad day. Joy is a gift. A gift from God.

A moment of joy might take the form of a hug. A smile. A memory. A reaction to music or art. Just lying in bed in the dark. It might pop up anywhere. Perhaps just for a fleeting moment. The passage we heard today from the gospel of Luke describes joy as emanating from God entering the world as a baby. Mary, the pregnant mother of Jesus, has come to visit Elisabeth. This story is only found in Luke – the other gospels do not include it. Mary was told by the angel Gabriel that she will bear a son – a very special child. Gabriel also tells her that Elizabeth is 6 months pregnant which is amazing since Elizabeth was quite old and had been barren her whole life. So Mary rushes to visit Elizabeth. She makes the journey of 70 miles by herself. It would have been highly unusual for a young, pregnant woman to go on such a journey unaccompanied. When she greets Elizabeth the baby leaps at the greeting. Twice in just a few short verses Luke notes that the baby leapt for joy when his mother was greeted by Mary. Elizabeth is surprised by the visit and surprised by joy.

Elizabeth proclaims that Mary is blessed and speaks of Mary’s baby as “her Lord” This is an incredible statement to make: a wizened old woman calling an unborn infant her Lord. After this proclamation of blessing from Elizabeth Mary sings a song of joy. Two women together. Two babies. All filled with indescribable joy.

Mary sings what is known as the Magnificat:
⁴⁶ And Mary said, "My soul magnifies the Lord,
 ⁴⁷ and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior,
 ⁴⁸ for he has looked with favor on the lowliness of his servant. Surely, from now on all generations will call me blessed;
 ⁴⁹ for the Mighty One has done great things for me, and holy is his name.
 ⁵⁰ His mercy is for those who fear him from generation to generation.
 ⁵¹ He has shown strength with his arm; he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts.
 ⁵² He has brought down the powerful from their thrones, and lifted up the lowly;
 ⁵³ he has filled the hungry with good things, and sent the rich away empty.
 ⁵⁴ He has helped his servant Israel, in remembrance of his mercy,
 ⁵⁵ according to the promise he made to our ancestors, to Abraham and to his descendants forever."

Mary sings a song of joy about God. About who God is – a God that is holy, merciful and strong. A God who reverses social order and takes care of the downtrodden. A God who keeps promises. She sings a song of joy about who God is and who God will always be. This is more than a song of thanksgiving. It is more than her thanking God for giving her nice things or even for giving her a son. It is more than her just thanking God for what God has done – she thanks God for who God is, God’s very character. This is a song of adoration. A song of joy – praising God for who God is. Holy, merciful, strong and faithful. In fact, she might not even be that thankful that she will bear a son. She is not married and will be the disgrace of the town for having a child. Her life is more complicated than before. Much more complicated. It isn’t happy and easygoing. But it is joyful. She has been surprised by joy.

For that moment at least Mary and Elizabeth – and baby John – embrace the joy that has overcome them. The joy that has been given to them. But they didn’t receive it immediately. When Gabriel came to Mary to tell her the incredible news that she was going to be the mother of the Messiah, Mary was first perplexed, then incredulous and disbelieving before she finally embraced the message. When Mary first arrives at Elizabeth’s house Elizabeth questions why such a special blessing was given to her. Why is the Lord, God, present in her very house? Why does she deserve such a gift? They resisted the gift of joy because they felt undeserving. Yet it was given to them nonetheless.

It is appropriate for us to recognize the vast gap between us and God and to see that we are not deserving of God’s gifts simply on our own merit. But like Elizabeth and Mary we resist joy. We resist what God sends to us, what God gives to us. We strive for happiness – we seek fulfillment in material possessions, assurance in our accomplishments and companionship through relationships. But no matter how much we seek these things there is always doubt in our minds. There is always fear. Loneliness. And Self-doubt. We do not think we deserve joy. We don’t think we are worthy or valuable enough to receive it. Elizabeth had just been blessed with a child in her old age – a gift that could only have come from God. Yet she still questions her worthiness to receive the joy of Mary’s baby. We are fragile, lonely, worried people feeling unworthy to receive joy. 

And yet it breaks into our lives anyways. God sees us as worthy. God sees us as valuable, lovable, worth caring for. On Christmas day 2000 years ago God deemed us so valuable God became one of us. God joined us in our fragile state and broke into our world bringing joy. Joy has entered our world. And it pops up in our lives. Even if we resist it. Even in the middle of sorrow and pain. Even when we feel rejected. Even as wars rage and forests burn. Joy breaks in. It surprises us. Joy showed up in Elizabeth and Mary’s bodies. Joy knocked on Elizabeth’s door. God came into their messy lives and brought joy. Christ’s birth was not simple – away from family, surrounded by animals, under the threat of being killed by King Herod. It was messy but joy broke in. And for a moment it overcame doubt and fear. And so John leaped. John leaped in his mother’s womb. 
         
Erica and I just received the magazine our seminary publishes each quarter for alumni. It contains an article about art and faith. One of the pieces of art caught my attention. Art has a way of describing experiences and meaning in ways that words simply cannot convey. I went on the internet and found the piece that caught my eye. It is a painting by Vincent van Gogh called, “Prisoners Exercising”. At first glance it appears to be a group of people pacing around in circle surrounded by tall prison walls. They are weighed down by the condition of their lives and the walls around them. But if you look very closely – hard to do on this screen – you will catch a glimpse of a butterfly flying high over their heads. A glimpse of a tiny, beautiful lively butterfly present as they walk with heads hung low. This image strikes me as capturing the concept of joy far more effectively than my sermon today. Joy is like a butterfly that flits down into our lives – sometimes when we least expect it.

As we go through life we find it hard to see beyond the next step in front of us. We do not feel worthy of God’s love and acceptance. We sometimes even ourselves build the walls around us. But we might catch a glimpse of a butterfly. Even in the midst of deep pain we might catch a glimpse of a butterfly flitting in and around the paces we take. In death there are moments of family healing. In difficulty there are moments of learning. In sorrow there are moments of laughter. In uncertainty or fear there are moments of hope – hope in the promise of God. There are glimpses of butterflies.

But butterflies are erratic. They come and go as they please. They are difficult to chase and sometimes we get just a quick look at them. C.S. Lewis talks about the desire to experience joy again and again but the elusive nature of that experience. He says, “To get (Joy) again became my constant endeavor; while reading every poem, hearing every piece of music, going for every walk, I stood anxious sentinel at my own mind to watch whether the blessed moment was beginning and to endeavor to retain it if it did. [Sometimes] I tasted Joy. But far more often I frightened it away by my greedy impatience to snare it, and, even when it came, instantly destroyed it by introspection...” In trying to control it and make it happen, Lewis found that he ended up destroying it.

In that way too joy is like a butterfly. You cannot capture a butterfly easily. If you hold onto one too tightly you will kill it. You cannot predict when it will come or go. You can only enjoy it for the moment it is present.
Yet we look out into the field to see the butterfly again. We want to experience the indescribable feeling of true joy again and again. We long for it to fill our lives. Because joy connects to something beyond this world. It is a glimpse of heaven. Of God’s enormous love and acceptance of us. Lewis describes joy as an “unsatisfied desire which is itself more desirable than any other satisfaction.” It is a desire that cannot be fulfilled by any action on our part or anything we control. Joy is elusive because it is a glimpse of what we long for beyond this world. No presents, no grades, no acclaim, no girlfriends or boyfriends, none of these things bring the fullness of God’s joy into our lives. They are wonderful pleasures for sure. But true moments of joy are the taste of God’s love, grace, and acceptance. Tastes of heaven. That taste of heaven is what Christmas is all about – the moment in history when God entered our world. When a tiny baby brought hope and a promise of new life to all people. That is the joy of Christmas!

This is the third Advent sermon based on the scripture passage Luke 3:7-18.

          We are just a couple of weeks away from Christmas, the day which marks the birth of Jesus and the entrance of God as human into our world. The season of Advent is a time in which we prepare ourselves for this significant event. Most of our preparations, however, seem to revolve around finals, buying presents, and making plans for what we’ll do over the Christmas break. Our normal routines for this time of year might include buying a tree, decorating, and spending a significant amount of time at the library or a coffee shop. “Normal” for us though, is exactly what God calls us away from in this time of Advent.

            Today’s scripture passage is about John the Baptist, who as Mark described last week, wore camel’s hair, a leather belt, and ate locusts and wild honey in the desert. He is definitely not the definition of normal. It is fitting that John is traditionally seen as a major figure in the Season of Advent because he draws our attention away from the usual Christmas fanfare. Even beyond the commercialization of the holidays, Christmas is often presented as a wonderful time to celebrate family and church traditions—we do things which are familiar. John the Baptist says something quite different to us though in the time of Advent. There are three parts to his message which I think are important as we prepare ourselves for the birth of Christ. First, he calls us to come away from our normal lives; second, he calls for repentance; and third, he sends us back to our normal lives with a challenge to reflect our renewed commitment to God. I think a helpful way to look at these three components is in the framework of mission trips.

            Some of you have taken mission trips before, and some of you haven’t—regardless if you’ve never gone on one or gone a dozen times, I think they are useful spiritual disciplines that we should all engage in on a regular basis because they have the power to really transform us. In some ways, the crowd of people who went out to John the Baptist in the desert were on a mission trip themselves.

            The first thing John tells us is to come away from our normal lives. One of the ways we are able to really take stock of ourselves is by taking a step back from our usual routines. Whether we fly across the world, drive down to Mississippi, or head across town to a neighborhood where we are the minority, stepping outside of our comfort zones helps us to see things differently.

            When Mark and I were in college, we spent one of our summers in the inner-city of Atlanta working with kids from government housing projects. There were other college students from around the country too, and we all lived together in a couple of houses across the street from one another in a neighborhood with drugs, crime, and violence. My roommate was a girl from Northwestern University and there were other students from Wheaton, Tennessee, Mississippi, and Georgia. Coming from Berkeley, I was used to being around a lot of Asians, but that summer we lived in an all African-American neighborhood—the other students were all white, except for me. Beyond the racial landscape, I was getting used to the thunderstorms and humidity which seemed to produce unearthly sized cockroaches and swarms of mosquitoes which gave me bites at the rate of five per minute. We spent our days with kids from crime infested and drug ridden areas, and the evenings negotiating how to use our $20/week allowances to provide enough food for all of us. It was quite different from my normal routine, and though we were in an urban area, I felt very much like I was in the wilderness.

            Things that I took for granted at home became more apparent. I couldn’t go for a run because it wasn’t safe to be outside alone, and also because it was too hot most of the time. Fresh fruits and vegetables were a rarity on a $20 budget in the inner-city. Having privacy and space was out of the question when living with that many other people—and I started to understand how one could go really crazy in a crowded environment. Being able to choose to live away from the effects of violence was a luxury that many people simply didn’t have.

            By leaving my normal environment which meant access to good education, health care, safety, and at the very least a credit card I could use if I needed to buy something, I became more aware and sensitive to how much I needed God and how because God had blessed me with so much I was also called to a greater responsibility than living for myself. For me, going to Atlanta was like going out to the desert, into the wilderness, so I could gain a better perspective on my life and what was important.

            That leads to the second part of John the Baptist’s message—repentance. The crowds who left their normal routines in the city to go out into the desert to see John were told to bear fruits worthy of repentance. After removing themselves from their usual environment, they could start to see more clearly how their lives were not matching up to God’s call. Repentance literally means turning around—it’s an acknowledgement that something needs to change.

            During my time in Atlanta I had a lot to repent about. The summer was meant to give us an opportunity to serve God and also learn what it was like to live in a community that had problems of crime, drugs, racism, and poverty. It was a choice for me and the other students to live there, but for almost everyone else it was not. It seems strange to call it a privilege to be able to go spend a summer in such a difficult place, but that’s really what it was—a privilege. It gave me new perspective on my normal life.

            There were of course the things I took for granted that I didn’t have access to while I was in Atlanta. But I also became aware of how much I lived my life in fear, trying always to preserve my own life in every way. One Saturday afternoon a group of us returned from the Laundromat to find a man pacing our driveway. As I got myself and bag of laundry out of the car, he came over and started talking. He kept saying how this used to be his house, and we knew from the history that where we were living was once a crack house. At one point he took my bag of laundry, offering to bring it into the house for me, but I quickly took my bag back and said no thanks. It was clear that the man was high on something, and all I could think of were various scenarios in which something bad happened to one of us.

            So I grabbed my stuff and made a beeline for the house across the street, and as soon as I got in I started telling the other girls how we needed to lock the door and maybe call the cops. As I explained what was going on, one of the girls got off the couch and walked out the door. I went to the kitchen window and watched her calmly walk over to the man and start talking to him. I don’t know what she said but I was amazed at how fearless she was, and how unlike me, she responded to the call to see every person as God’s beloved child. She and some of the other students continued to talk to him while the rest of us watched nervously from the windows. While they were outside, all of us who were inside worried about the possible danger and tried to come up with a plan of how to protect ourselves. Finally, the conversation dissipated and a few of the students agreed to give the man a ride because he was asking for bus fare. Meanwhile, I had a lot to think about.

            I had to think about the stereotypes, prejudices, and racism that existed within me. I had to think about how my own fears caused me to recoil from another human being instead of responding in love. I had to think about why all I wanted to do was lock myself in a safe house and let other people handle the “problems.” I was challenged by how I was so intent on preserving my own life with no regard to how this man’s life needed preserving as well. My concern was only to protect myself, and I seemed only willing to serve God if it meant that I didn’t have to risk anything or change anything. These were all painful realizations, as I saw how even though I was on a mission trip, I was ignoring God’s call to lay everything down to follow after Jesus. I wanted faith on my terms, not on God’s.

            Though these were difficult things for me to admit, they led to repentance, to turning around. Bringing to light the ways in which I was not aligned with God’s purposes opened me up in new ways for God to work in my heart. It also gave me new eyes to see how I needed to make some changes in my normal life.

            And that brings us to the third part of John’s message. After leaving their normal lives for the desert and realizing they were not living as God desired them to, the crowd repented and asked John what they should do. John’s response is interesting—he does not call them to stay in the wilderness to become an ascetic monk like him. Instead, he challenges them to go back to their normal lives but to act differently. To the tax collectors and soldiers, both professions which were not highly respected in Jewish society, John instructs them to act ethically and fairly. To the crowd, he instructs them to give to whoever has need. He was calling for them to realign their purposes with God’s and to make a renewed commitment to reflect that reality in their lives. He sent them back to their normal lives with transformed hearts and understanding.

            My time in Atlanta was full of learning and new revelations, as almost all mission trips are. The challenge for me was to find a new normal as I returned to school in the Fall. Having a time in the wilderness gave me new perspective, but I had to be very intentional about bringing that into my life at home and to making changes. The problems that existed in Atlanta were also problems that existed in Berkeley, and I could either lock myself back up in my protective bubble, or I could respond to the need around me as God desired.

            I could rush to class, past the homeless person sitting on the street, and pretend not to notice him or her. I could say nothing when people spoke in stereotypes about other people. I could ignore the abuse of alcohol and drugs around campus because it wasn’t my problem. In short, I could let my time in Atlanta remain an isolated experience. OR, I could make a new definition of normal; I could integrate my time in the wilderness into my life as a college student and make different choices. Instead of planning how I was going to avoid all those problems, I could choose to directly engage them because God’s call was for me to respond, not run away. Throughout the rest of my time in college, and even to this day, I continue to wrestle with what it means to give up my protectionist attitude and lay down my fears to fully follow after Christ.

            In this Season of Advent, I think it is helpful to think of John’s message in terms of relationships. When you start dating someone, there’s usually some excitement as you get to know each other better. You’ve left your normal status as a single person, and gone into the wilderness of romance. If any of you have dated someone long-term, you know that the starry-eyed gazing at one another is not what sustains the relationships. You start to discover in the desert that to make the relationship work, you have to make different choices. For example, you can’t keep dating a whole bunch of other people. What’s important to your significant other becomes important to you. You start to consider how your decisions will impact the person you love, and you spend more time with him or her. Once you’ve returned from the romantic wilderness, you have to find a new normal which includes your boyfriend or girlfriend. You don’t give up being you or your interests, but you do make changes to reflect the reality that you have made a commitment to this person.

            As we approach Christmas, we are invited into a relationship with Jesus. John the Baptist reminds us that in preparing for his arrival, we need to think about the changes we are going to make in our lives. And so I leave you with that invitation. Go out into the desert, away from the normal Christmas routines, and get some perspective. What are God’s desires for you? What is God calling for you to change? And after you spend some time in the wilderness, return to your normal life, but let it be a new normal in which you reflect the romance you have started with the baby who is born to us on Christmas Day.

Advent. Isaiah 40:3-5, Luke 3:1-6

When I was in high school I used to go bicycling in the Colorado Rocky Mountains every summer with a church youth group. It was one of my favorite weeks of the year. We rode 250 miles over 4 major mountain passes in 6 days. It was spectacular. The first day of riding was from Glenwood Springs to Edwards. To get out of Glenwood Springs we had to go through a huge tunnel built right through the middle of a mountain. But we couldn’t ride our bikes through it. It was under construction each of the summers I rode because it was such a major project to build. A little like East Washington Ave. here in Madison which is a 5 year project to repair. The major highway tunnel in Colorado was an incredible civil engineering feat. I heard it was named among the top 10 engineering wonders of the world. Which is probably why it took so many years to build. So each summer when we got to the tunnel we would hitch a ride in the construction workers’ trucks through the construction area to the other side. It was annoying and took a while to load up 40 people and bikes and shuttle us all through. But then the alternative would have been to ride over the mountain. That would have been an even greater pain – I know because we rode over other mountains on those trips – and it takes a long time! In the end the highway running through the mountain made passage to the other side easier, much easier.
    
We take roads for granted. But they are an incredible invention that has changed our lives. By highway many of you can get home and back for Thanksgiving all over the state in just a couple of hours – a trip that would take days or weeks by horse or foot. We can pick up fresh oranges from California and limes from Florida at the local grocery store. Milk from Wisconsin cows makes its way all over the country before it spoils. Roads contributed to the expansion of the population from east to west and from cities to suburbs. Trucks deliver the same Playstation 3s to Target stores all over the country – well maybe not enough of those but that isn’t the roads fault! Roads provide a way through the countryside for food, people, mail, raw materials, consumer goods -- so much that makes our life what it is.
    
You really notice the value of roads when you travel somewhere that doesn’t have adequate ones. About five years ago Erica and I spent a few weeks in Ethiopia. Most of our time was spent in the rural mountain regions in the middle of the country. We traveled by Toyota Land Cruiser because the roads were nothing more than piles of rocks. There wasn’t an inch of pavement for hundreds of miles. Within 20 minutes on any drive we had a splitting headache and needed to visit a chiropractor because of all the bumps and hits. Even the Land Cruisers weren’t quite enough – one afternoon we were driving along and I heard a sudden pop as the vehicle lurched to one side. At first I thought it was a flat tire. But then I saw the entire wheel rolling away off the side of the road – smoking. The wheel had actually broken clean off the axle. The truck had hit a particularly big rock and snapped the wheel right off! I wondered why they make roads out of rocks anyways. It seemed like it would be easier to just drive on the dirt – at least it would be smoother. Why build roads out of rocks?
    
The answer was presented to me one day when we went up to visit a remote farm and meet the farmer’s family. To reach this land high up in the mountains we had to drive up a particularly rough rock road. It was in fact a new road. People had been building the road for many months by laying down huge boulders using only their hands and very basic tools. And it was incredibly bumpy! But then we came to the end of the path of rocks – we got as far as they had finished the road. And our driver decided to go on a bit further. So we drove off the rocks and onto the dirt – except it wasn’t dirt – it was mud. We drove right into a big pile of mud. And instantly we were stuck. As we waited outside the truck for the next few hours while a variety of techniques were employed to try and free the Land Cruiser I realized why the roads were made out of rocks. Dirt roads don’t work in Ethiopia. Most of the year is very dry and droughts are common. But the winter months bring a rainy season. When the rains come dirt turns into mud. Dirt roads turn into rivers of mire. It becomes impossible to travel anywhere. It becomes impossible to transport food or medical supplies. Impossible to bring in grain for animals to eat or take out the potatoes that are farmed in that region. It becomes impossible to bring in relief workers to help starving children that result from all the previous problems. Those rocky roads – even though they shake the brain and hurt the back – are critical to the people of rural Ethiopia. They prepare the way for basic subsistence.
         
And so the people in those communities in Ethiopia build roads. They build them by placing one large stone next to another painstakingly by hand. It takes months, years to build a rough rock road. But they do it because they want to make a path for life giving food and supplies to get into to their community. They do it to prepare a way for something of great value. In the midst of a harsh environment where life is difficult they lay down rocks. In the midst of a wilderness they build roads.
         
In our passage from Luke today we are introduced to John the Baptist. Or actually re-introduced. The first chapter of Luke describes the amazing birth of John to a couple far too old to conceive a child. Here in chapter 3 John begins his public ministry to the people of Israel. People come to him out in the desert to be baptized. John calls them to repent – to turn away from their focus on false gods and to turn their full attention to the true God. He offers them hope amidst the injustice that the Israelites are experiencing at the hand of the Romans. And John must have been a sight to behold. The gospel of Mark says that he was clothed with camel's hair, with a leather belt around his waist, and he ate locusts and wild honey. John had a significant impact on the Israelite community in his own right but his real purpose, his most important role is to prepare the way for someone greater. To build a road for the coming of someone more important. Someone truly life giving. He builds a road for the coming Jesus Christ. He opens up the way for Jesus to come to the people and provide for them what they need. He prepares the way for Jesus to bring the good news of God’s grace to all of humanity.
         
In describing John the Baptist the author of this passage – Luke – quotes from the Old Testament book of Isaiah saying, “as it is written in the book of the words of the prophet Isaiah, "The voice of one crying out in the wilderness: 'Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight.  ⁵ Every valley shall be filled, and every mountain and hill shall be made low, and the crooked shall be made straight, and the rough ways made smooth;  ⁶ and all flesh shall see the salvation of God.'" It is very interesting to look at the quotation Luke uses in its original, unedited form – found in Isaiah 40:3-5. That verse comes out a little differently in English although both suggest the same general meaning. Isaiah reads: ³ A voice cries out: "In the wilderness prepare the way of the LORD, make straight in the desert a highway for our God.  ⁴ 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.  ⁵ Then the glory of the LORD shall be revealed, and all people shall see it together, for the mouth of the LORD has spoken." In the original text it isn’t the prophet who is in the wilderness but the highway that is to be prepared that makes its way through the desert. During the time of the writing of this passage from Isaiah the Israelites were living in exile in Babylon. They had been defeated by the Babylonians and many had been carried off to exile. In Babylon it was customary for a “highway” to be prepared for the arrival of a dignitary such as a King. Isaiah is drawing on this imagery in describing making way for the Lord. Like adoring people preparing a highway for their king so also a highway is prepared for God.

There are obstacles, however, in the way of God meeting the people. Obstacles that must be overcome with a highway. In Isaiah the image of valleys being filled in and hills made low is descriptive of the obstacles keeping the Israelites from escaping their exile and returning to their place of worship. Freedom and a return to Jerusalem are symbolic of a renewed relationship with God. When Luke uses the same imagery in the New Testament it is suggestive of obstacles such as distraction, oppression, idolatry, religious confusion and sin which must be overcome in preparation for meeting God in Jesus Christ.
         
A road is built to overcome obstacles. In Colorado tunnels are put through mountains because we need to get over them. In Ethiopia rocks are laid down in order to cover the miry mud that traps even the strongest trucks. John the Baptist calls the people of Israel out into the wilderness to get them out of their everyday lives and help them to focus on their relationship with God. He builds a road over the obstacles in their lives so that they can hear the good news and meet Jesus Christ. John knows that Jesus is so important he wants the people to know this man, this man who is God’s own son. So he builds a road for Jesus to travel on to meet the people and for the people to meet Jesus. John doesn’t bring the people to Jesus. Or Jesus to them. It is God who does that. But John paves the way. He lays down the rocks. He builds the road and removes the obstacles so the connection can be made. 
         
This week Benjamin shared with me a very insightful observation about Mac users. A phenomenon you have probably experienced. Benjamin loves Macintosh Computers. And like many Mac users he likes to talk about their greatness. Mac users are always telling PC users how much better their computers are, how fabulous I-pods and I-tunes are. How Macs don’t get viruses and don’t crash. And how they look amazing! Mac users talk about their machines all the time and slip it into conversation at every opportunity. They anticipate obstacles others might raise – too expensive? Not really because you get more for your money. Not compatible with PCs? Well now Macs can run Windows. Not enough software? Who needs more software – they come with the best stuff already loaded. They prepare the way for people to buy a Mac and want to see their friends buy a Mac. They are calling out in the wilderness – prepare to have the best computer ever!
         
And why not? Don’t you want to talk about the new song you heard that is incredible? Or the new movie you saw? Before Thanksgiving a friend e-mailed me to say that Chipotle was giving away free burritos for a week if you brought in two canned foods for a local food pantry. When I went it was obvious that a lot of other people had also told their friends – because there was no sign outside describing this deal but the line was almost out the door! We tell people about the great things we find or experience. We want others to experience them also. We build roads for them to travel on along with us.
         
Should it be any different in our religious life? Yes, religion is far more loaded than burritos. And we want to respect people’s beliefs and not act as if we know it all or have the corner on all truth. That is loving and kind. It is humble. It is appropriate. But surely the God of the universe is worth talking about. Surely the free grace of Jesus Christ – that doesn’t even require two cans of food to get – is worth mentioning once in while. Not by standing out on Library Mall holding a sign naming all the people who are destined for hell – but by building roads. By laying down some rocks in the mud. We don’t bring people to Jesus or Jesus to people. But we can build roads so that a connection might be made. We can pave the way. We can anticipate and prepare for some of the obstacles. We can invite people to travel our roads together. Or maybe as you build a road for someone else – they will build one for you. For even if we have been a Christian our whole life we still need God to meet us each day.
         
So build some roads. There is a lot of need around us. There is a lot of wilderness. People are lonely. They want a community to be a part of. People are looking for meaning. They want something to care about. People are looking for love and forgiveness. They want some hope. People need basic food and health care. They want someone to help and to respect them. The need is different for each person. The Israelites at the time of Isaiah’s writing needed comfort in their exile and passage back to their land. The good news from God to them was that comfort. The people following John the Baptist needed release from oppression and social renewal. The good news from God to them was a new social order brought by Jesus. For all time people have needed a relationship with God and forgiveness of sin. The good news from God to all – is the blood of Christ shed for the forgiveness of sin. We don’t have solutions to people’s need in a little package we can drop off at their doorstep but we can build some roads that prepare the way for Jesus to meet them and to bring them the good news that they need.

There are a lot of obstacles in the way of knowing Christ. That is why we need to build roads. There are distractions, other things to worry about, not enough time, false perceptions about religion, old hurts, poverty and oppression, wealth and greed, human sin – ours and others. There are a lot of obstacles. But most of the time I think we actually create the worst obstacles ourselves. Instead of laying some rocks for a road we dig a pit of mud and fill it with theological or political beliefs that must be agreed to before a person can know God. We put hills of exclusivity in the way in the form of racism or sexism or simply not inviting people into our life or community or church. We break wheels on our expectations of behavior, our biases, our preconceptions of what the Christian life should look like. In short, the biggest obstacle on God’s road into the world might be us. So build roads and then let God travel on them. Let God come to people in the way God intends and let people come to God in the way that is meaningful to them. God wants to meet us and to meet others. To bring good news to all people. Just don’t get in the way.
         
But build something. The rocky roads in Ethiopia were not perfect. They had lots of jagged edges and they took a long time to put together. But they were better than the mud. They worked. The roads we build don’t have to be perfect. If we wait for perfection we will never start. If the farmers in Ethiopia waited for asphalt or concrete in their mountainous villages they wouldn’t get very far. They use what they have around them – stones – and they do the best they can. They aren’t professional contractors. They aren’t engineers at the Department of Transportation. They are just regular people who set out to make a way for life-giving food to get into their communities. The word of God didn’t come to the long list of elite religious and political leaders named at the beginning of the passage in Luke. The word of God came to John – a regular guy wearing camel’s hair and eating locusts. It’s not only preachers or religious leaders who can talk about Jesus or share the good news. It’s not only those with theological training or people who have read the whole Bible who can talk about what God means to them. Anyone can do it. You can do it. You can build roads. Most of the time it is as simple as naming the good news that God has given you. Using the materials around you – the shared experiences, the shared values, the shared vocabulary that is a part of your life – using that to describe your faith. It might take a while. It might be painstaking and rough. But there are people who need to connect with God and you can prepare the way.
         
The weeks leading up to Christmas are the season of Advent. During Advent we are waiting for the birth of Christ. We are preparing for the coming of God. The advent candles, the songs, the scripture passages, the time of reflection – these are all parts of the road we build to prepare for Jesus to come and meet us again. To meet us afresh. To be good news in our lives. Because need roads ourselves. And what a perfect time to build roads for others as well. The Christmas story is truly life giving. More than the hottest Mac or the newest MP3. It is the story of God choosing to love people in the most profound of ways – by taking the form of an infant child who is the salvation of God for all. Love and forgiveness, justice and peace, grace and mercy, comfort and strength, a new social order – Jesus is all of these things for us and the people we know. What a gift worth talking about! What a road worth building!

This sermon marks the beginning of the Advent Season in which we prepare for the birth of Christ. The scripture passages are Jeremiah 33:14-16 and Luke 21:25-36

            My daughter Emma will turn three this January. Lately we have been trying to teach her about time, and how things happen in the past and future. We’re making progress, but still have some limitations. For her, whether something happened a few hours ago, a few days ago, or last year, she calls it yesterday. For example, yesterday she had cereal for breakfast, yesterday she went swimming, and yesterday she was having Christmas at Grammy and Grampy’s house. Well a couple of months ago we told her that she would become a big sister at the end of April. To help her get a sense of when this might happen, we told her that the baby would come after fall, winter, snow, Christmas, her birthday, more snow, spring, and after April. Then the baby would come.

            Having grown up in California, I thought this was a pretty good layout of the seasons ahead, but I forgot to take into account how weather works here in Wisconsin. So when October rolled around and we had our first snowfall, Emma exclaimed, “The baby will be coming soon!” I had to readjust the timeline I had given her by saying that after a very long winter and lots of snow, spring, April, then the baby would finally come.

            As children we are taught to look for signs that tell us about what is going on around us. When the leaves turn colors and fall to the ground, or when the first buds appear in the spring we know that the seasons are changing. Being pregnant, I am constantly reminded by signs in my body that a new life is forming and growing. And when the end of nine months draws near, you can be sure that Mark and I will be looking for symptoms that the baby is coming. These are just a couple of markers designed by nature, but I think we also look for signs in other parts of our lives—when we are trying to decide what college to attend, whom to marry, what job to take, when to retire, when to sell or buy a house. Many of us look around ourselves for confirmation, for some kind of indicator that we are headed on the right path.

            Throughout the Bible, many of the people were also concerned with signs. The Old Testament contains the oracles of many prophets laying out the events by which the people of Israel would know God’s judgment and redemption were coming. In the New Testament there are also passages which detail the things which will happen when the kingdom of God draws near. Learning to discern if the prophecies were true and what they meant was an important matter for the community of faith.

            Today’s scripture lessons are two such examples. The passage from the prophet Jeremiah, speaks about the one who will come to save and redeem Israel. The passage from the Gospel of Luke is Jesus’ foretelling the events which will signal the coming of God’s kingdom and himself as the Son of Man. They are both messages for the community of faith about what they can expect as they wait for God’s action in their lives and world.

            To get a better understanding of Jesus’ words in Luke, it helps to look at the larger Lukan narrative which also includes the Book of Acts. After the disciples have traveled with Jesus witnessing his teachings and miracles, he gives them a warning of what lies ahead. It is by no means an uplifting tale of success and celebration. Rather Jesus tells them that great calamity, violence, and even death await them if they continue to be faithful to him. Not exactly the most optimistic outlook!

            But if we look ahead to the Book of Acts, we will see that after Jesus’ resurrection and departure, the disciples indeed faced many trials. Instead of being a deterrent to following Jesus, the words from Luke served to confirm that Jesus was a trustworthy prophet whose teachings were true. That many of the apostles faced questioning by the Roman government, persecution, and even martyrdom, confirmed that all of what they were going through was not without purpose. Jesus had told them to expect this, and it was a reminder that God was sovereign and remained present with them even in the midst of such suffering. The lesson from Luke is a faith building experience for those who follow Christ because it affirms that the signs Jesus has taught about are signs that God is near. That’s the hope we’re supposed to feel anyway when we hear his words.

            I don’t know about you, but when I read this passage I find myself somewhat resistant and less than encouraged. It’s not so much that I doubt Jesus, it’s more that I don’t particularly like the signs he’s chosen to indicate that the kingdom is near. We didn’t read the whole of chapter 21 in the Gospel of Luke, but let me tell you what other events he said the disciples had to look forward to. The destruction of the temple, earthquakes, famines, plagues, war, persecution, arrest, betrayal by one’s own family members, and murder because of their faith. These were the signals which would mark the nearness of the kingdom of God.

            In my mind, a better precursor would have dwelt less on the apocalyptical nature and more on the celebratory trajectory. How about a spectacular cosmic show in which the sky lights up with dazzling stars, planets, comets, and colors? What if global warming suddenly took a reverse trend and the polar ice caps miraculously were restored? Perhaps the Kurd, Sunni, and Shiite factions in Iraq would lay down their arms and decide that reconciliation was the best course. Israel and Palestine would learn to peacefully coexist, Kim Il Jong would throw open the doors to North Korea, and the genocide in Darfur would not only stop but by some miracle those who were thought slain would be found safe and alive. Yeah, I think if these things were to happen, most of the world really would believe that the kingdom of God was near, because for these things to happen would be absolutely stunning.

            And that’s the rub of this passage. All the things that Jesus has actually listed as signs of the proximity of the kingdom of God are things we can see around us right now. War? Well we’ve certainly got that covered. Famine? We know each day is a struggle to find basic subsistence for too many people in the world. Plagues? AIDS is rampant in Africa and growing in Asia. Family members betraying one another? Sadly, there are too many broken families right here in our own country which leave bleak legacies. I could go on and on, but you get the picture. We can look around us and see many signs which echo what Jesus told his disciples when he gave them clues about how to perceive the kingdom of God. But I will say for myself that they don’t lift up my faith.

            As we enter the Christmas season for another year, the usual routines beckon our attention. The lights, wreaths and decorations go up to signal that the holidays are near. Old family grudges are put aside for this one time of year, because it’s what the Christmas spirit calls for. Many who live in denial of others’ suffering, whether intentional or not, remember that people are hungry and in need, so they pull out their extra resources to give. All the flurry of energy is directed at achieving, if even for just one day, a semblance of peace on earth where all have what they need and maybe a bit more. It is ironic that as we draw closer to the time to celebrate the birth of Christ, the coming of the kingdom of God, we do everything we can to suppress and erase the signs by which he told us he would be coming.

            In fact, when Jesus first entered our world, the events which preceded his arrival were much more along the vein of the 21^st chapter of Luke. There was the indiscriminate massacre of young, Jewish infant boys. Joseph had to overcome what appeared to be a major betrayal by his fiancé and surely a shameful situation. Mary, nine months pregnant, in labor, and clearly in need of a place to rest, did not receive the charity of anyone but was instead turned away by the innkeepers. When Jesus finally made his entrance into the world, it was not surrounded by adoring family members but by smelly animals who probably wanted the newborn out of their trough so they could eat. The coming of Jesus the first time around was remarkably similar to what he said the second coming would be like—full of terror, unrest, and general despair.

            And yet this is how we are taught to perceive the nearness of the kingdom of God. It seems counter-intuitive to all our usual preparations for the birth of Jesus. I look forward to Christmas for precisely the opposite events that Jesus lays out for his disciples. I would rather mark his birthday with celebrations, feasts of food, and a general sense of well-being and peace with my family and the world—even if it’s just for one day. But we are challenged to reframe our understanding of how we perceive the kingdom of God, of how to take in the signs that Jesus has given us which indicate his proximity.

            When day after day we hear of the mounting death toll in the Middle East, we might begin to wonder where God is in all of this. The natural disasters which seem to regularly devastate the earth and its defenseless inhabitants might cause us to question God’s concern for us. Experiencing pain and suffering in our own lives can sometimes make us feel like God is quite absent. The calamitous events which wreak havoc in our world often lead people to conclude that there is no loving God who cares for them. These signs, they would claim, are all the evidence needed to prove that God is nowhere to be found.

            The scriptures, however, tell us a different story. What is so remarkable is that Jesus named these events, these very hard realities which he knew we would face. He chose signs that we would recognize, situations that we could readily identify. Like the parable of the fig tree whose leaves tell us that summer is near, war, famine, plagues, earthquakes, and strife among people tell us that the kingdom of God is near. It is not that God is making these horrible events happen, rather Jesus knowing the broken state we live in reminds us that he is indeed present amidst the chaos. We do not take comfort in the fact that evil and suffering are happening, but we do find hope and faith that God has told us what will happen and still remains with us. The final word is that the kingdom of God, Jesus, is near us even when all appearances may suggest something otherwise.

            So, are you looking for a sign? Look beyond the traditional ones that we use to celebrate our more peaceful version of the birth of Christ. The feasts of food, decorations galore, presents wrapped, and charity among strangers—these are all good things but they are temporary lights as the dark winter drags on. According to the scriptures, if we look for the signs which Jesus told us about, they are all around us all the time. And while they may cause us pain, heartache, and grief, we do not give in to despair. Like children who must grow up and learn that life is difficult, we too grow in our faith journeys as we maintain our hope when we are surrounded by the distress of the world. We do not lose heart, nor do we succumb to denial or cynicism; we do hold onto true hope as we put our faith in the Prince of Peace who will bring redemption to us beyond the one day we try to make it happen. Our ultimate hope and faith rests in Jesus who has promised to be with us—that is reason to rejoice.

Continuing in the series, "Opposites Attract!" this sermon looks at the issue of women in the church. The scripture passages are:  1 Corinthians 14:33-36, Judges 4:4-5, 1 Timothy 2:8-15, Romans 16:1-7, and Galatians 3:27-28.

We are nearing the end of our series, “Opposites Attract!” as we take up the controversial issue of women in the church. There are many different opinions on this matter and it continues to divide congregations today. Those who say that women should not be pastors or leaders in the church and those who say they should both point to the Bible as support for their side. How can it be that people who profess belief in the same God come to such radically different understandings? It’s a topic that can get people very worked up and passionate, but not listening to each other very well.

My position on this issue is probably pretty clear to all of you, seeing how I am a pastor here at Pres House and preaching to you right now! But what I want to do today is share a bit of the journey on how I’ve come to my conclusions. It was not an easy path in which things were black and white—rather it was a winding road with struggles, questions, and challenges. Looking back though, I can see that there were three sign posts, or road markers along the way which guided my journey then, and continue to guide me today as I strive to live out my faith.

First was my desire to take the whole Bible seriously, and not to just ignore or throw out the pieces I didn’t like or agree with. Given my belief that scripture is the word of God and informs my faith in Jesus, I had to really consider what to do with the parts which seemed to contradict my thinking. Second was discovering various interpretations of scripture passages and learning to discern which was better and right for the context I lived in. Third and finally, keeping a sense of humility and perspective reminded me that my interpretations were not God, especially when confronted with other Christians whom I disagreed with.

Before I begin my story, however, we’re going to hear some passages from the Bible which talk about women. These are just a select few, but they will give us a good starting point.

* * *

            Back when Mark and I were first married, we enjoyed inviting our friends over to dinner at our little apartment. It was a small but cozy place in California where we spent our first couple of years as newlyweds. One Friday evening my best friend from high school came to visit us, which was a special treat because since graduating from high school, we didn’t see each other too often. She had gone to San Diego for school so it was only when she moved back to Northern California that we began to hang out more than during Christmas break.

            Over dinner we were talking about various things, I don’t really remember what, probably just catching up on each other’s lives. I think she was telling us about her church or spiritual life, when she casually made a statement that made both Mark and I freeze. It was something along the lines of how she used to really struggle with why women couldn’t be pastors or leaders, but as she had matured in her Christian faith she understood what a worldly view that was and she now accepted the proper role of women in the church. I was at a loss for words.

            I’m not sure if it was Mark or I who then informed her that the church we both worked at had just called its second female pastor onto the staff. And then it was her turn to be at a loss for words. Eventually we all managed to find our voices and continued cautiously with our dinner conversation, trying to understand how we had come to such different places.

            A little more background. My friend had become a Christian at the end of high school before we headed our separate ways to college. We had conversations over the phone while we were at school, and I knew that she was praying for me as I wrestled with what I believed about life, death and God. At the end of my freshman year, I found that God’s grace had inexplicably touched me and began attending church and exploring more about the Christian faith.

            To make a long story short, over the rest of my time at college I became very involved at the church where I was nurtured and grew in my faith journey. Eventually I felt the call to ministry, which was why I was working at a church after I graduated when my friend came over for dinner. She too was very active in her church during college, and sharing our Christian faith with one another was a source of encouragement for both of us. We had also both made a lot of assumptions about each other which became apparent during dinner.

            So here we were, suddenly faced with the realization that we had come to opposite conclusions about the role of women in the church. She felt that the Bible was very clear about the issue and pointed to some of the passages like 1 Corinthians and 1 Timothy. We talked more about it that night, and actually continued the conversation over e-mail over the next few months. During this same time period, one of the adult volunteers that I worked with at my church also confided in me that he was really struggling with the fact that our church had called a second female pastor. His brother-in-law had challenged him saying that the church was not following the Word of God and was going astray. I personally had always just assumed it was fine for women to be pastors and leaders in the church, but I was challenged by my friend and this adult volunteer to really think through why I believed this based on the Bible and not just my gut feeling.

            And so this brought me to the first road marker in my journey. I believed that the Bible was authoritative and that I needed to take it very seriously in my faith journey. I wasn’t comfortable with just ignoring the passages of scripture which didn’t seem right to me, but I wasn’t sure what to do with them either. It was important for me to wrestle with these scripture passages for understanding, and to really explore the possibility that I might be wrong in my conclusions. The next few months I spent a lot of time poring over passages such as the ones in 1 Corinthians and 1 Timothy, asking questions, and talking to other people who had done some thinking on the issue.

            In this process of studying the Bible, I started to realize that there were many factors to consider when reading scripture. First is the fact that I was reading an English translation of ancient texts—if any of you know a second language, you’ll know that translating can be difficult because sometimes there really is no equivalent word. Second, having some idea of the cultural context and circumstances of different scripture passages is important to understanding them. Scripture was not written in a vacuum, but existed within real societies, cultures, and peoples. Third, everyone interprets the Bible and no one literally follows everything in it. For example, before Paul tells women not to speak in 1 Corinthians or 1 Timothy, he also tells them they must have their heads covered and that they cannot braid their hair, wear jewelry, or expensive clothes. Many churches do not allow women to teach because of these passages, but don’t require them to follow these other commands which are in the same books. My point is simply that we all interpret scripture and no one can claim that they follow it exactly. The Bible is not a prescriptive instruction manual, rather it is the story of God’s relationship with people which guides us in our faith journeys.

            Taking these factors into consideration, I came to the second road marker in my journey. It is easy to see that there are many different interpretations of Scripture, in fact there are countless opinions and thousands of commentaries written for each book of the Bible. Not all of them are equal however. Learning to discern which interpretation is better is a lifelong journey and one to be done with fear and trembling.

            In the case of the role of women, as I studied the Bible, prayed, and discussed the issue with other Christians, things became clearer to me. We could spend a whole day getting into the details of the various passages, but I’m just going to give you a brief summary of what I learned. The passages from 1 Corinthians and 1 Timothy, like all of Scripture, were written in a particular context. It was a patriarchal society and in a time when Christians were being criticized because their women did not conform to cultural expectations. In fact, many non-Christians viewed Christians as a threat to the stability of the structure of society since women were seen prophesying and leading in other ways. Many commentators understand these passages as attempts to make the community’s presence less offensive and perhaps more credible. By instructing the women to behave in culturally expected ways, meaning always under the authority of a man, the Christians hoped to be able to thrive in their societies. Today’s context does not match that of 1 Corinthians or 1 Timothy in this regard; women were always under men in that time, not just in the religious realm. In our society, women hold positions of leadership in the work force, government, home, and church. Even more compelling, however, are some of the other passages in the Bible which seem to directly contradict these ones.

            The book of Judges is a history of the various people who led Israel before the monarchy started. Many of them were men, but one of the most successful judges of Israel was in fact a woman named Deborah. She led all the tribes and people came to her for judgment. In the book of Romans, the apostle Paul ends his letter with greetings to many different church leaders. Among them was Phoebe, a deaconess and prominent leader in the Roman church. Priscilla is mentioned here along with her husband, who is mentioned after her—many scholars think she was the primary teacher because she is listed first. Priscilla instructed Apollos, a man, in the gospel. Junia is called prominent among the apostles by Paul, clearly a position of leadership in the church. There are many other women listed by Paul as leaders in the church, and these are just a few.

            Beyond these specific examples, an overall theme in the Bible is God’s reversal of societal norms and tossing out of social ladders. Uneducated fishermen were elevated above the Pharisees, the elite religious leaders, to become the inner circle traveling with Jesus. Gentiles were called to become leaders in the church, a group which was scorned by the Jewish disciples. It was women who first witnessed Jesus’ resurrection and testified about it to the other disciples, notable since in that culture women’s testimonies were not even considered valid. Slaves worshipped alongside masters and were treated as equals in the first Christian communities. Scriptures contain many examples of God using the unexpected person, often the person outcast and at the bottom of the ladder. In fact, the Roman Empire initially viewed the early Christians as radicals who needed to be eliminated because they undermined the social order—men and women alike were persecuted and murdered. This reversal of societal norms is summarized in Galatians when Paul says, “There is no longer Jew or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male and female.” God will call who God will call, and the Holy Spirit will work through whatever person, regardless of race, gender, or class.

            After considering the various passages, praying, and experiencing God’s call on my own life to teach and lead, I came to the conclusion that not only was it okay for me and other women to be pastors, but it would be disobedient for us to ignore the Holy Spirit’s prompting. To deny the gifts and calling that God had given to me would be foolish and futile anyway. And to insist that I knew better that a person certainly hadn’t been called or gifted by God simply because she was the wrong gender seemed arrogant and dangerous. God was and is much bigger than my conceptions, and certainly didn’t need me to protect God-self from my assumptions that I had figured out who God could use for certain roles.

After coming to these conclusions, it was clear that my friend and I were at odds with one another in our interpretations. She felt that I was being disobedient against the Word of God and was concerned that I was going astray. This was my best friend from high school whom I deeply respected as a woman of faith and I knew cared very much about me. Yet I also had my convictions which I felt were true and important to honor. And so this brought me to the third marker on my journey.

            Though I was convinced that it was right for women to be leaders and pastors, I also believed that Christ’s desire and command for the body of believers to be one and unified was critical. At the end of the day, after poring over the Bible, praying, and seeking the wisdom of other Christians, I was reminded that God is still God, while all my interpretations are merely attempts to grasp an understanding of God. This didn’t mean they were useless efforts, but it was essential that I kept perspective on my proper place. An attitude of humility and humbleness is significant because it keeps us from playing God and speaking for God. To use my interpretations as a means to condemn, reject, or belittle another sister or brother would be a tragedy and I think would sadden God’s heart. Being right and proving it is not the way God goes about loving us, and I imagine is not the best way we are to go about loving one another either.

            With my friend, it was clear that neither of us were going to change our minds. But both of us valued our relationship enough that we weren’t going to let this disagreement, as serious as it was, stop us from being good friends or take away our respect for each other. While I had my convictions, I also figured that I needed to remain open to the fact that I hadn’t figured everything out and God would continue to teach me new things even through people I had very different opinions from. I needed to be careful of making my beliefs into “God” and keep listening without judgment. Despite our differences, God’s command ultimately was for us to love one another.

            I have to be honest and say that often it is easier for me to love non-Christians than other sisters and brothers in Christ. Maybe it’s the fact that God calls us to be a family, and many times we fight more with our family members than others. Certainly our tendency is to want to deny any affiliation with a person who we feel distorts or misrepresents the God we believe in. The cop-out way of handling our differences is to disparage them, label them something unflattering, or simply walk away from that person or group. The harder thing to do is to truly listen, engage, and love one another so that we are living out God’s command to be one in Christ.

As I continue my faith journey, I have found these three road markers helpful in guiding my way. Taking the whole Bible seriously, learning to discern better interpretations, and I think above all, keeping an attitude of humility which reminds me of God’s place and mine. I have covered a lot of ground in a short amount of time, when each of these points could have been a sermon in and of itself. But I feel that when we approach any divisive or controversial issue, all of these road markers are essential; leaving any one of them out puts us on dangerous ground. My hope for us here at Pres House is that we will be a community which worships God, welcomes and respects people of differing opinions, and together learns what it means to be one in Christ.

Part of my training to become a pastor included working as a hospital chaplain. I worked at a level 1 trauma center in urban New Jersey. Level 1 is the highest level of trauma centers. It is where all the worst accidents are taken. I was thrown into my role as a chaplain in this huge hospital with only 3 days of training. I had no idea what I was doing. Our daughter Emma has recently been saying she is a pastor. When we ask her what a pastor says, she replies, “Bauch, Bauch!” making a chicken-like sound. According to Emma a pastor says “Bauch, Bauch! Cock-a-doodle-doo!” Well in my first weeks as a chaplain I felt about as effective at working with dying and mourning people as a chicken. My feeble attempts to comfort and pray with the sick probably sounded a lot like “Bauch, Bauch!” to them. I would like to believe that over time I learned how move around the hospital more like a pastor and less like a chicken with my head cut off. But it was not an easy job. Personally, I’d love to see a TV show about hospital chaplains along the lines of Gray’s Anatomy. I’d watch it every week. I suspect, however, that there wouldn’t be enough sex in such a show for it to be a prime-time hit!

One of my most amazing experiences as a chaplain was working with a heart-transplant patient. I met this man and his wife in my second or third week doing rounds in the cardiac unit of the hospital. He was in the hospital because of heart trouble. Over time he, and I, learned that he was experiencing congestive heart failure. He was moved from the regular cardiac unit to the cardiac intensive care. Congestive heart failure is a difficult disease to treat. One of the only long-term treatments is a heart-transplant. So after extensive evaluation from the doctors he was put on the transplant list. And then he waited. It often takes a long time to get the right match for a transplant – particularly for a heart transplant. A heart can only be donated in a situation where someone is brain dead but their heart is still beating. Most of the time this means a traumatic accident to the head. So this man waited. And waited. The hospital was keeping him alive but it wasn’t much of a life. Endless machines, medications and tests kept his heart beating but also kept him confined to his bed. He could only look out the window to see the world outside.

As the weeks and months went by I tried to visit with him and his wife a couple of times per week. We would just sit in his room and talk about all sorts of topics, the movies he asked his wife to bring in to watch, and whatever was on his mind. Sometimes we got interrupted by my pager which would go off when a trauma case arrived at the hospital and I would have to make a quick exit. Or we would have to speak up over the noise of a helicopter arriving at the hospital’s pad on top of the building. Once in a while the conversation would drift to what it was like to be waiting for a heart. He confessed to me that it was a difficult position to be in. He knew he would die if he didn’t get a heart. But he also knew that the only way he was going to get a heart was if someone else died. Every time my pager would go off or the helicopter landed on the roof he would hope that a trauma was arriving that might lead to a donated heart. But then he would feel terrible for that hope because he knew that the beeping of the pager and the whir of the helicopter meant that someone was in serious trouble or dying. He thought of the family members who might be losing their brother or husband, wife or daughter. The sounds that gave him hope were the same sounds that devastated others.

As the weeks went by and I got to know this man and his wife better and better I began to feel a small measure of the paradox he was experiencing. If he was to live, someone else had to die. If he was to get a heart, someone else had to lose theirs. What a paradox. Life could only happen through death.

This paradox is what Paul describes in our passage from Roman’s today. We are in the middle of a series here at Pres House called Opposites Attract. We are looking at passages or ideas in the bible that are contradictory or paradoxical in some way. This passage from Romans is one of those. Here Paul talks about sin, Jesus Christ, life and death and the paradoxes and reversals that tie these together. Life is made possible through death.

The book of Romans is not in fact a book but a letter. It is a letter written by the apostle Paul to the church in Rome. Paul had a profound conversion experience – he went from being one of the most vehement persecutors of Christians to being one of the most effective evangelists for the Christian faith. It is the first letter we come across in the New Testament in reading order but it is probably the last letter Paul wrote. Partly because it is one of his later letters it contains incredible depth in theological thinking. Paul makes complex theological arguments in this letter. The passage we have read from Romans 6 fits that bill. Paul is making a theological argument – and one that contains paradox.

The passage opens with a rhetorical question that comes out of some of his previous statements in the letter. It is a question that you might have asked yourself or heard others ask about the Christian faith. Essentially it is this: if we are saved by God’s grace and not by what we do then why do we need to worry about the way we live? If God’s grace covers all our sin then why don’t we just keep on sinning? After all, our sin will be covered by God’s grace. And sinning will in fact provide God an opportunity to show even more grace. The more we sin the more grace will abound. This question naturally emerges from Paul’s earlier arguments in this letter, namely that we do not do anything to be saved. We do not do anything in order to be accepted by God and forgiven for our sin. God has done all of that for us through the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. ---- So then what is our motivation to live good lives? To live holy lives? To try and follow God commands?

After raising this question Paul embarks on his answer. His response is profound partly because of what he doesn’t say. We are not to follow God’s commands out of guilt. We are not to follow them because they are the right thing to do necessarily. We are not even to follow them simply out of respect and thanksgiving for the sacrifice Jesus Christ has made on our behalf by dying on the cross. Paul makes the argument in this passage that we follow God’s commands because we have been given new life. We should not sin because we are no longer sinners. For Paul everyone is under the dominion, the control of something. Either we are under the control of Sin which he almost personifies as a person or we are under the dominion of God. Paul also connects sin and death. Sin leads to death. Freedom from sin leads to life. Because of Jesus Christ, Christians are no longer under the control of sin but of God. Because of Jesus Christ we are no longer subject to death but look forward to eternal life.

God came into the world as a person. As Jesus Christ. Jesus submitted to crucifixion. He was killed. He was buried. With his death Sin was also killed. Not specific sinful acts but the power, the dominion, the control of Sin. With his burial Sin was also buried. But Jesus didn’t stay buried. He was raised from the dead. In his resurrection the power of sin and death was fully destroyed.  In Christ’s death and resurrection therefore death itself was destroyed. Sin no longer has any real power in any ultimate sense. So what does that mean for us?

Here Paul brings up baptism. When a person is baptized he or she is in some mystical, spiritual way united to Jesus Christ. As Christians we are joined to Christ. This means we are joined to his death. In a sense we have died because Christ has died. We have died to sin. Sin has been killed in our lives. And we are joined to Christ in his resurrection from the dead also. We have been raised in Christ’s resurrection. Let me pause for a moment to say a word about baptism. In writing this letter Paul assumed that all Christians were baptized. That was the way the culture worked. This is not an assumption that can be made today. Not all people who put trust and faith in Jesus Christ are baptized. Baptism is, however, a powerful and meaningful and important sacrament we do in the church and I encourage you to talk to me or Erica if you have questions about baptism or are interested in getting baptized.

So Paul describes here an incredible world. A reality that is hard to believe -- Death and Sin no longer have power over our lives. Of course this raises the question: Well if Sin is dead then why do I still sin? Paul isn’t suggesting that we never sin. But he is suggesting that in an ultimate sense, in the cosmos, Sin no longer has power over our lives. We, joined to Christ, have died to sin and have been raised to new life.

What Paul is talking about here is the true state of the world. It is a little bit like the first Matrix movie. With the help of a group of rebels Neo is shown the truth of his world. People think they are living but they are really just locked in pods creating energy for machines while signals are fed into their brain that simulate reality. They are living in a huge computer created video game. But Neo is removed from his pod and finds himself in the real world. As he does he discovers that when he is inside the Matrix, inside the video game, he can function outside of the rules of the game because he now knows that it is a simulation. He begins to truly live. One of the other characters, Cypher, decides that he doesn’t want to truly live. He wants to go back into his pod and stay in the simulated world where he can taste steak, where he can eat fake computer generated steak. This isn’t a perfect analogy but Paul’s words in Romans are little like the red pill offered to Neo, a glimpse at the true world. We are not under the control of Sin and death. There is a lot that looks that way but it is an illusion. Behind, beneath, beyond what is on the surface of our world is the true world made possible through Jesus Christ. Like Neo we have the opportunity to live in the true world but we are constantly tempted like Cypher to return to the old. We are free even while we continue to sin.

Paul describes two profound paradoxes or reversals that take place in the Christian faith. One is that life comes through death. We are given life through the death of Jesus Christ. The other reversal is the answer to his original rhetorical question. Our motivation and our ability to sin less comes from the fundamental reality that sin has been defeated. Not the other way around. We do not stop sinning and thus defeat sin. Sin is defeated and therefore we have the freedom to stop sinning. The order is reversed from what we might expect. It is BECAUSE we have been given new life that we don’t need to remain under the control of sin. These two reversals are brought together in a wonderful description found in one of Paul’s other letters, 2 Corinthians 5:17  ¹⁷ So if anyone is in Christ, there is a new creation: everything old has passed away; see, everything has become new! Joined to Christ we have been made into a new creation. Through the death of Christ we are given a new lease on life. It is because of this new life we are free to live outside the power of sin! This is a paradox my friend waiting for a heart-transplant taught me to understand in a whole new light.

You might be wondering what happened to the man waiting for a new heart since I didn’t finish the story. For a long time I, too was waiting to find out what happened to him. Did he get his heart or did he die? As my time at the hospital drew to a close there was still no news of a new heart. On my last day as a chaplain I went to visit my friend and his wife. We shared some small talk and I offered a prayer for him as I did periodically even though he wasn’t a very religious person. He thanked me for spending time with him throughout the summer. On my way out his wife asked for my phone number. She wanted to be able to reach me and let me know what happened after I left the hospital. So I gave her my cell-phone number and told her to please call me when there was some news. Then I left the hospital.

The summer ended and I went back to class. Weeks and then months went by and I didn’t here anything about the heart-transplant. My life went on. But once in a while I would think of this man and wonder what had happened to him. Then one day about six months after I said goodbye I got a call on my phone from an unknown number. It was the patient’s wife – she was calling to tell me that her husband had received a heart! She was calling me just hours after he successfully came out of transplant surgery. Our conversation was brief – she just wanted me to know that after all the waiting he had a new heart. She was looking forward to his recovery and finally, finally bringing him home after more than 9 months in the hospital. He now had the freedom to leave the hospital, to leave behind the machines, the nurses, the doctors, the endless tests and go home. I told her I was so happy for them and thanked her for calling me. That was the last time I heard from them.

I don’t know how his recovery went. I don’t know if his body accepted the heart without complication. I sure hope so. But I could now imagine him leaving the hospital. Seeing his grandchildren again. Spending time with his wife. Going for walks. Putzing around their house. He had a whole new lease on life. He had a whole new life. Without that heart he would never have left the hospital again. I have no idea what that would actually be like. And I don’t know what he would have done after returning home. But if I was in that position I hope I would take advantage of my new chance at life. With a new heart I would want to experience all the good things. The healthy things. I wouldn’t want to mess around with my new gift by eating poorly or smoking. I would want to love people, forgive people, do things that were good for me. As a new person I would want to live like one. Like a new creation.

And as I put down the phone after hearing the good news from his wife my thoughts turned to the obvious other half of the story. A half that I knew nothing about but that must have taken place for me to have received the phone call. I thought of the pager that must have gone off on the belts of doctors and chaplains signaling the arrival of a trauma victim. And the sound of the helicopter arriving at the hospital with a husband or sister or father who would soon be dead. I thought of the person and family who chose to donate their heart so someone else could experience life out of their tragedy. Of the life that was made possible only through death. 
          
We have each been given a new heart. We are a new creation. We have a new life. We are free to leave the confines of the hospital. To walk away from the things that hold us back from truly living. We are free to go home. God donated God’s most valuable organ to the people God created – to the people God loves. Jesus Christ died so that we might have new life. Like my friend who received a new heart we cannot make a new life for ourselves. We don’t heal our heart by not smoking and eating well. We don’t become a new creation by living well. No – our new life is given to us. It is donated to us. Out of Christ’s death we are given life. We can leave the hospital. We can go out into the world as new people. With a whole new lease on life. Much of the time I don’t feel like this is true. I want to stay in the Matrix because that fake steak seems pretty good. But by the Holy Spirit and through encouragement in community we have a chance to experience our true reality. We are new creations.

You are a new creation. What are going to do with your new life? Are you going to live for the good things? You are free to live with hope. To care for others. To forgive. To serve. To do radical things. To do risky things. To do good things. You are free to not do what everyone else is doing. Free not to impress. Free from needing drugs, alcohol, casual sex. Free from the bondage of money and power. Academic success is great but there is more to life than grades. Relationships are a special joy in life but your worth is not dependent on who are dating. You are free to live for God. Not forced. Not obligated. Not required. But free. It is paradoxical. God seems to work that way. Out of death you are given new life. You have received a heart-transplant. Your new life is a chance to live as a new person. Sin no longer has dominion over you. You are free to go home. So leave the hospital. And go home.

            Last week Mark introduced our series, “Opposites Attract!” We’re looking at biblical passages and concepts that seem to be paradoxical or contradicting. Mark suggested that the Bible, our lives, and our faith all contain paradoxes and contradictions which are not only normal, but essential to our belief in Jesus. Today we are looking at a passage in the Gospel of Luke, when Jesus gives a sermon on a plain to a crowd of followers. In the Gospel of Matthew, there is a similar passage which is called the Sermon on the Mount because Jesus teaches from a mountainside. You also might have heard these passages referred to as the Beatitudes, which is from the Latin, meaning happiness. In any case they are fairly well-known scriptures, and because of that I think it’s easy to forget just how challenging and shocking they really are.          

          This sermon by Jesus is made up of four blessings and four woes. He makes these statements to the crowd of people listening to him about who will be happy and who will face great distress. Jesus is talking about not only future times, but the present. Those who are blessed now are the poor, hungry, the ones who weep, and the ones who are hated, excluded and reviled. The ones who have great calamity and disaster ahead of them are the rich, well-fed, laughing, and the ones who are well-spoken of.

            I don’t know about you, but I find these words difficult to swallow. The reason I struggle with these blessings and woes is because so often in my life and when I look around at the world, they don’t seem to match the reality I experience on a daily basis. Blessed are the poor? Well, who is Jesus talking about? The woman who doesn’t have enough to bring her sick child to the doctor? The man who misses a month of rent and so is forced out onto the street in the middle of winter? Just how exactly are they blessed and happy? When I think of the people who are poor, blessed is certainly not the first thing that comes to my mind.

            And what about the hungry? I have fortunately never really had the experience of going hungry, but Mark can tell you that when I am hungry, I am also usually very grumpy and irritable. Those who weep now, it seems pretty clear that if they felt blessed they wouldn’t be weeping. And being hated, excluded, and reviled? I don’t know anyone who relishes being persecuted.

            The flip side of Jesus’ teaching mirrors those he calls blessed, and again, they don’t seem to match the way things work in our society. Woe literally means, “How horrible it will be!” so all the opposites of Jesus’ previous list—the rich, well-fed, those who are full of laughter, and who have good reputations among people—these are the ones Jesus warns of impending disaster.

Mark and I had the chance to live the life of the rich this past summer when we went to the Virgin Islands. His childhood friend was getting married and Mark was invited to do the honors as the minister. He and his fiancé planned quite an extravagant week for all of us guests. One day we had a brunch by the sea, the next was the wedding on the beach at sunset with a gourmet, catered dinner; there were gift bags, lots of food and drinks, and to top off the week a chartered, private yacht that took us snorkeling and to a private island for lunch. The couple getting married were both doctors who had graduated from Duke University, so almost all their friends present were also doctors and Duke alumni. Definitely people who would be classified as rich, well-fed and having good reputations. And there was plenty of laughter that week. To all of this, Jesus says, “Woe!” but I can tell you that the last thing on our minds while we were enjoying this lavish vacation were woes.

            So how do we reconcile this teaching from Jesus when from all appearances, the exact opposite is true? It sure seems like the rich, well-fed, laughing, and popular people are the ones who are blessed while the poor, hungry, weeping, and persecuted ones are cursed. The crowd listening to Jesus would have also found his teaching counter-intuitive to their own experiences. When we think of who is blessed and who is cursed, we tend to reverse who Jesus has named so that it is the opposite of his teaching. These sayings which are called the “Beatitudes” don’t reflect what we generally think of as constituting happiness.

            In fact, the way things work in our culture, we have ingrained in our heads that we must get a good education and work hard so that we won’t be poor, hungry, miserable outcasts. To be happy, we are told that we need to make sure we are financially secure so we not only have enough food on the table, but also to entertain ourselves and have a respectable standing in society. If you ask the average person what happiness is, chances are they wouldn’t list the beatitudes.

            What then is Jesus talking about? How does Jesus describe happiness? Things are not what they seem according to his teaching. Looking back at the passage, we will see that the people who were crowded around Jesus were plagued by diseases, troubled by unclean spirits, and all of them were desperate to get close enough so they could touch him because they wanted to be healed of their afflictions. They were deeply aware of their need, stripped of any sense that they had it altogether, and reminded by the rest of society that they were at the bottom.

            And why are they blessed? There are two reasons I think. First, God promises a future in the kingdom of God in which they will no longer experience any more suffering. In the kingdom of God, it is the poor who will be the guests of honor, the hungry who will feast at the banquet, the weeping ones who will laugh with joy, and the persecuted ones who will have a great reward. This is the good news that Jesus brings to the oppressed and outcast. His attention is especially on those who suffer the greatest, those who daily struggle to get by.

It is not just a future hope, however, in which they are relegated to have a miserable existence until they die and go to heaven. The gospel of Jesus Christ, which means the good news, is especially good news for poor and broken people. In some ways, being in such a position can make you more conscious of your need for God, for a Savior. Not always, but often those who understand grace the most are those who have hit bottom. This is not to say that God wants us to be poor or to be content with other people’s poverty and suffering—absolutely not. It does point out though how riches and success can mask the true poverty in our souls.

            In our society and culture, we tend to brush aside or hide any painful or difficult situations. We are quick to say, “We’re fine,” and we work hard to maintain an appearance of being okay, even if things are falling apart. Sickness, death, suffering—all of these are quarantined so that we don’t have to face them on a daily basis. There is a sense that we must minimize pain at all costs, even if it means denying its existence. We are uncomfortable with our own pain and other people’s suffering and we are taught to escape it as soon as possible.

            But Jesus says that it is right in the midst of the suffering that we are blessed. We are blessed because when we have hit bottom and have nowhere else to turn, we realize our need for God and can more easily recognize the healing and grace given to us through Jesus. Everyone is in need of God’s grace and redemption whether rich or poor, but often it is only when we are stripped of our illusions and defenses that we can wholeheartedly embrace what God is offering. The truth is that everyone is at the bottom of the ladder, but some circumstances make us more sensitive to this reality and thus able to understand God’s blessing.

And this is why Jesus warns people about chasing after illusions which keep us in denial. Woe to those who are rich and live a privileged life! If we spend our lives striving to be financially secure, well-fed, enjoying ourselves, and living the good life—a pretty much hedonistic existence in which we live for pleasure—then that is our reward. And soon we will find that all the time, effort, and importance we placed on those things were wasted because we never really understood what matters. In the end, those things will leave us poorer for not pursuing God’s kingdom, hungry in our souls for true meaning, and mourning because we have lost out on living an abundant life in God. We will find that what our society said was important really does not bring happiness.

The Beatitudes, which means “happiness” remember, suggests a paradoxical path to a fullness of life. I want to read an excerpt from a vignette called, “Downward Mobility” from a book called Theirs is the Kingdom by Robert Lupton.

“A passion for excellence. Diligence. Drive. Efficiency. The competitive edge. These are the values of achievers, the essence of upward mobility and the stuff of which success is made.

Enter Jesus, the Christ. Mighty God. The Everlasting Father. Emptied. Weak. Dependent. Here to show us the way to greatness, heavenly greatness, by becoming least. King turned servant. Downwardly mobile. What sort of ethic is this?

There are those who will find it exceedingly difficult to understand, the Teacher said. Like the wealthy, successful, educated ones…

Indeed, his teachings are suicidal for the successful. The downward mobility of the kingdom strikes at the very heart of our earthly strivings. It feels like death to let go of our diligent preparations for the next step up and the investments that insure our tomorrows. Who in their right mind would gamble away a reasonably predictable and secure future on a high-risk, intangible faith venture like the kingdom of God?

Jesus the Christ. Mighty God. Destitute. He says we can’t have it both ways, that our security is either in God or mammon…The first fruits of a new world order have come, and he has revealed the values of his kingdom: vulnerability, obedience with abandon, lavish giving, faith that defies reason, volitional downward mobility.”

Downward mobility. It is the opposite of what makes sense in our society, but we are invited to risk trusting in Jesus so we can live an abundant life.

            What might this practically look like? It means coming to terms with our own brokenness, and learning how to sit in the midst of it instead of running away. When we can admit that things aren’t okay—relationships are broken, academic plans have gone awry, there is illness in our hearts and minds, we screw up everyday—then we will begin to let go of the false idols that we use to make ourselves feel better and we will have open hands to receive God’s healing and grace.

In the process we will also develop the compassion and strength to sit in the midst of the brokenness of other people’s lives. Our hearts will take after Jesus’ heart which seeks after those who are poor and broken so that we can be a blessing to them. We will see the inability of riches and pleasure to fulfill our deepest needs, and comprehend why Jesus warns that pursuing them is an empty path. By letting the suffering of others enter into our lives and affect us, we will be given kingdom eyes to understand in our hearts the truth of the Beatitudes. Jim Wallis, the editor of the magazine Sojourners, articulates why it is vital for us to be physically near to those who suffer:

“Proximity to poor people is crucial to our capacity for compassion. Only through proximity do we begin to see, touch and feel the experience of poverty. Compassion comes out of a feeling of relationship…Putting ourselves in proximity to oppressed people begins to open us up to understanding and compassion. Our hardness of heart cannot be maintained for long in the midst of such obvious human suffering.”

Jesus calls us into the mess where he too is standing. Here we will be amazed at how God reaches into the depths to give us real hope and new perspective on what really matters. Our hearts will be changed by the grace Jesus extends to us. And we will be blessed, happy, because we will have experienced genuine life in the kingdom of God.

 

This is the first sermon in a series called "Opposites Attract." In this series we will be looking at paradoxical or contradictory concepts and passages in the Bible. The text for this sermon is Ecclesiastes 3:1-8

          Some people have said Ecclesiastes should not be in the Bible. It has been one of the most debated books to make it into the “canon” - the official list of Biblical books. Usually the complaints against it have stemmed from the fact that it is dark and skeptical. Sometimes it sounds almost fatalistic and hopeless. Not the kind of book that typically inspires people to reach towards God with utter abandon and devotion. I had a professor at seminary who was once given a blue letter edition of the Bible as a joke gift. You know, many Bible’s have Jesus’ words printed in red letters. Well the blue letter edition highlighted all of the optimistic words. The uplifting passages of the Bible were printed in blue. Let’s just say that virtually none of Ecclesiastes would appear in blue letters. The letters are almost all black.

          But I love Ecclesiastes. I think it is an important and profound book in the Bible. Not because I am a particularly cynical or dark person (though I can be sometimes) but because it is so real. That is kind of an overused catchphrase nowadays. Be real. But like most overused catchphrases there is something behind it. Realness is important. There is so much in life that is trite, fake, sickly sweet or spray-on cheesy. And too often Christianity is presented in those terms. As a motivational message designed to make us feel good about ourselves and to succeed. Indeed, Jesus came to give us abundant life. That is true. But he also came to show us real life. To be real. To get beyond fake, sweet, cheesy to something meaningful, something worth holding onto, something real. Ecclesiastes, written well before Jesus’ time, is an honest look at life and faith with the same purpose in mind – to be real.

          Ecclesiastes is also a great book for us to start our series “Opposites Attract.” For the next five weeks we are going to take a hard look at passages and concepts in the Bible that are paradoxical or contradictory. This exploration will not be easy. In fact, I am not sure why Erica and I are subjecting ourselves to such a difficult preaching series. I think we are drawn to the difficulties because they are real. The Bible, Life and Faith are full of paradox and contradiction. Not everything is wrapped up in a nice little bow. So today’s passage from Ecclesiastes chapter 3 is an excellent way to begin our series – it is raw and real. It contains paradox and contradiction. Because that’s the way things are. Specifically there are three places where we find paradox and contradiction which will keep coming up in this series. Three places where Opposites Attract: 1. In the Bible, 2. In Life and 3. In Faith. Put another way: Paradox and contradiction? Yes, that’s the Bible, that’s life and that’s faith.

          You might have heard people say that the Bible never contradicts itself. That any perceived contradictions can be resolved in some way. That it all fits together if we just understand it properly. I don’t believe this. There is no way around it: the Bible is full of paradoxes and contradictions. There are two stories of the creation of the world that say different things. Even the order of creation isn’t the same in each story. There are different accounts of Jesus’ death which do not reconcile with each other exactly. There are stories about God’s wrath and statements of God’s love. The Bible is full of paradox and contraction. And why wouldn’t it be? It is a collection of writings from hundreds of different sources over thousands of years. Most of the books of the Bible contain material from more than one writer or were edited at some point along the way. The Bible is a testimony about God. Even two eyewitnesses to an event report the details differently. Not all of the testimony fits together perfectly.

          To me this is not a problem but a gift. It is not something to get around but something to embrace and dive into. In the book of Exodus there are two interwoven sources telling the story of the parting of the Red Sea. One emphasizes Moses’ leadership. The other God’s power. Together they provide an infinitely richer picture of the interaction between God and human beings than if we only had one version. Having four gospels introduces some discrepancies in the stories but also provides a far richer picture of Jesus Christ than we would have with only one or two gospels.

          Look at the list of antithesis we just heard from Ecclesiastes 3. We can probably find examples of almost all of these antitheses, these opposites, in the Bible somewhere. In fact, the remaining four topics in our series are in this list. Next week we will be talking about the paradox of joy in the midst of weeping – verse 4 of Ecclesiastes 3. The following week we will look at the paradox of gaining life through death – verse 2. Then we will tackle the difficult question of whether women should be silent in the church or should be preachers and pastors – verse 7. And finally we will look at the contradiction of the God of the Old Testament who seems to promote war and the God of the New Testament who talks about turning the other cheek – verse 8. This list in a beautiful and poetic way names the contradictions in the Bible – even the very topics we are going to talk about in the next few weeks. None of the items in the list can be removed. They all have their place. This is true for the contradictions in the Bible also. We cannot pull some parts out of it. They all belong. They may not all be equally applicable in the same way to our lives today but they all belong.

          This list also names the paradoxes, contradictions and opposites that we experience in life. Opposites that have their place in life. A time to be born and a time to die, a time to break down and time to build up, a time to keep and a time to throw away – that’s life. That’s real life. You might find it interesting that verse 5, “a time to throw away stones, and a time to gather stones together; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing” is a reference to sex. There is a time to have sex and a time to refrain from sex. That is another whole conversation -- but we can see that the list here in Ecclesiastes is an eloquent expression of many opposites that have their rightful place in life. This was composed 2300 years ago for a Jewish community in the Middle East. Yet it is a list that is universal in its application – in some form or another all people experience these opposites during the course of their life whether they are an ancient Jewish farmer or an American college student. And these opposites are dependent on each other. There cannot be death without birth. We couldn’t start construction on our building next door here until the parking lot that used to be there was torn out. There wouldn’t be much point in planting all the corn on the farmlands of Wisconsin if it wasn’t later plucked up to be harvested and eventually eaten. That is life. It is cyclical. Things come and go. Times change. What is right at one time is not always right at another time.

          Beyond the specifics of the list, this passage as a whole also points to the reality that life as we experience it is full of paradoxes and contradictions. Quotes like “Absence makes the heart grow fonder” and “The best defensive is a good offense” find common usage in our culture. Couples who desperately want to have a baby sometimes find themselves unable to conceive while others who do not want a child get pregnant on birth control. Some people wait their whole lives to find and marry a spouse while others spend their lives ending a marriage. Nations make war to create peace (or try to at least). I’ve met homeless people who have PhDs and executives who have never been to college. And think about one of the most basic elements of human life, one we spend about a third of lives doing – sleep. You cannot try to sleep. It can only come upon you. Anyone who has struggled with insomnia knows this very well. If you try to sleep you are almost certain to end up staying awake. In my own life I have often been faced with the paradox of being afraid to make a mistake. I don’t like to make mistakes – I like to do things well. But I also believe that I learn from my mistakes and that taking risks inherently includes making mistakes. So I try to force myself to accept making mistakes because it is the right thing to do. I don’t want to make a mistake by not making mistakes! Life is full of contradictions, paradoxes and opposites. Again, like the opposites in the Bible this is not necessarily bad. It is simply the way it is. It is real. It may even be valuable – I’ll get to that in a minute.

          If the Bible, the scripture that points us to God contains paradox and contradiction and our lives are full of opposites then it is no surprise that faith – the intersection between God and our lives – is also riddled with contradictions and paradox. God demands justice yet offers us amazing grace. People are created in the image of God as good and yet have an incredible capacity to carry out evil. Jesus is fully human and fully God – at the same time. Wrap your mind around that! God is in control of the world and God is good – yet there is so much suffering around us. These are just some of the theological dilemmas that a Christian encounters upon exploring the Bible and Life in the context of a growing Faith. We have struggled with many of these questions at our Wednesday night faith discussion group over the last couple of years. One topic that we talked about a few weeks ago was predestination. Is God in control of our lives and our ultimate fate or do we have free will? Do we make decisions for ourselves or is God behind the circumstances of our lives in some way? As someone suggested at our Wednesday discussion group – perhaps we are characters in a book that has already been written from beginning to end. We don’t know the path or the conclusion but the chapters already exist. Or could it be that we write the chapters ourselves?

          This age old question underlies our passage from Ecclesiastes. Beneath the poetic description of opposites there lies a serious question – one that the author of Ecclesiastes wrestles with throughout the entirety of the book: Is God in control or are people? Are the times for war and the times for peace created by human decision or by God? Are the times we mourn and the times we dance because of our actions or because God has some master plan that we are living?

          Upon first reading of the list of opposites it appears as though people have a big part to play in the times of life. Other than the first item – a time to be born and a time to die – the rest of the list is very much in the hands of individuals. And to some extent even this first item. There are choices that we make which lead us to do the various things in the list. We chose whether to plant to or harvest. We chose whether to love or to hate. This sounds like people have free will to direct their lives. But when we get to verse 11 the tone changes. Here it is God who is credited with making everything suitable for its time. “People cannot find out what God has done from beginning to end.” This sounds like God predestines the times, the seasons, the events of our lives and that they are out of our control. So here again in this passage we are faced with a paradox – a paradox of faith. The author of Ecclesiastes wrestles with the tension between these two truths throughout the book. Both exist in the Christian faith. There is a paradox – God created the world and is involved in our lives AND God gives people the freedom to make decisions. Both and. Opposites attract.

          Opposites attract. Paradox and contradiction exist in the Bible, in life and in the Christian faith. That can be unsettling. It complicates things. I would prefer simplicity. A watertight system. Pulling in one direction instead of being pulled in multiple directions. It makes me nervous when there are opposites. Because I don’t know what to do with them a lot of the time. Which way do I go? How do I approach the Bible, my life and my faith? What do I do with the opposites, with the tension?

          One alternative is to give up on the Bible and just put it aside as a flawed or irrelevant book. I can also take a cynical view of life. And then I could give up my faith as a silly system that makes no sense and is full of contradictions. That is one option. But I don’t believe that is the best option.

          A good movie usually has a plot that gets complicated at some point along the way. If the plot just plods along in a perfectly stable, clear fashion then I am not likely to finish the movie, or I’ll fall asleep from boredom. A movie is far more interesting and satisfying if it develops a plot full of tension and complication. Whether that is the struggle to save Middle Earth by destroying a powerful ring or the relationship angst of Brokeback Mountain, contradiction and paradox gives a movie its heart and soul. But if I turn it off just when the plot gets interesting because I am nervous about the complications then I will miss out. I won’t experience the fullness of the story. I won’t enjoy the end – I won’t even get to it.

          The same is true for tension in the Bible, life and faith. If I turn them off, if I stop watching the movie, then I will miss out on the fullness of the story. But if I press on and embrace the paradox for what it is then I will be that much richer for it. Sometimes we go through life thinking we have to figure everything out. That we have to make everything fit together. But there is mystery to the Bible, life and faith. You too have a choice when you are faced with opposites – you can put down the Bible, become cynical towards life or let go of your faith. Or you can press on through it. The paradoxes and contradictions cannot always be resolved. They may remain unanswered even when the lights come up. In the end you may actually find God to be more present and more real in the middle of the tension between opposites, in the mystery.

          Paradox, contradiction, opposites – they are real. That’s the Bible, that’s life, that’s faith. But more than just being the way things are they are also the way God acts. God saved the world through one person. God gave us life by dying on a cross. The greatest act of power to ever take place happened in a moment of total submission. Opposites attract. The term “opposites attract” is often used in the context of romantic relationships. People who are very different from each other are drawn together and end up in love. I don’t know if this is actually true in dating and marriage as a rule but I do think it is true in the Christian faith. Opposites in the bible, life and faith don’t just co-exist – they are drawn together. They are dependent on each other. They come together to produce something that is greater than the balance of their parts. Something amazing. Something beautiful. It is because of a God who acts through paradox that weak, flawed human beings can have an everlasting relationship with the powerful, holy creator of the universe. That is an amazing paradox! We are loved by God exactly as we are. All our flaws included. That is one set of opposites that I am absolutely grateful for.

This sermon is the last in the series, "Riddles From Jesus - Parables in the Gospel of Luke." It is based on the passage Luke 18:18-27.

            We are at the end of our series, “Riddles From Jesus – Parables in the Gospel of Luke.” There are 18 parables in Luke, and we have covered 7 of them. Like Mark said a couple of weeks ago when he preached on the “Parable of the Dishonest Manager,” many of the parables are about money. Well today’s parable is again about money and material possessions. And it’s a hard one—so let’s dive right in.

            Jesus has been wandering around Israel with crowds of people following him. They have been listening to his teachings, watching him bring healing to the sick, and trying to figure out what to make of this rabbi who has defied all their expectations. The crowd was made up of all sorts of people—poor, outcast, educated, rich, powerful—some were amazed, some were waiting to catch him in a mistake, and others were wrestling with whether to keep following him. A certain ruler, who had been paying close attention, suddenly decides to speak up and ask Jesus a question.

            “Good Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?” His question is carefully worded according to his cultural expectations. The title, “Good Teacher” was a way of soliciting a reciprocal response. It was an, “I’ll pat your back if you pat mine” mentality. By calling Jesus, “Good Teacher” the ruler was expecting to be addressed in a similarly flattering way by Jesus. By now you might not be surprised that Jesus didn’t respond to the ruler as one would have expected him to.

            “Why do you call me good? No one is good but God alone.” Instead of complimenting him back, Jesus doesn’t address him with any title or recognize the ruler’s status at all. He seems irritated at this ruler’s preoccupation with social proprieties which made the elite feel good about themselves. So he simply ignores the social custom which dictates a reciprocal response and kind of tosses the ruler’s flattery aside. Then he goes on to list some of the commandments: “You shall not commit adultery; You shall not murder; You shall not steal; You shall not bear false witness; Honor your father and mother.” He knows the ruler is already aware of these commandments, so it’s somewhat of a dismissive answer to his question.

            The ruler, though he may have been taken aback by Jesus’ response, still presses on to receive an answer. He wants to know specifically if his salvation is ensured, so he says, “I have kept all these since my youth.” He is waiting to hear from Jesus’ mouth that he will earn eternal life. And so Jesus gets very direct. “There is still one thing lacking. Sell all that you own and distribute the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me.” He gives the ruler an answer, and it is more than he bargained for. When he heard the answer to his question, “he became sad; for he was very rich.”

            It is at this point where Jesus tells another parable, a very short and succinct one. “How hard it is for those who have wealth to enter the kingdom of God!  ²⁵ Indeed, it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for someone who is rich to enter the kingdom of God.”

            This parable is fairly well known among the Christian community, and there have been various attempts to explain it, especially among those who are rich. You may be familiar with some of the explanations. One of them is that the passage is mistranslated from the Greek. Really, it isn’t a camel that Jesus meant, but a thin rope—it would still be very difficult for this rope to be passed through an eye of a needle, but perhaps not impossible. Another rationale is that the eye of the needle is not the sewing kind of needle we typically think of, but actually a narrow entrance to a village. People have suggested that a camel loaded with packs could not pass through, but if you simply took the bags off, it could squeeze through the gate.

            Well, these are creative solutions to this tough parable but frankly, I think they are absolutely wrong. No, it is quite clear that Jesus really meant a large, four-footed creature that generally lives in the desert and that tiny object that we usually use to pull a thread through a piece of fabric. He is saying that a camel would have an easier time getting itself through the eye of a needle than for a rich person to enter the kingdom of God, period.

Like the other parables Jesus tells in the Gospel of Luke, this one stuns the listeners and causes more questions than answers. The crowd around Jesus reacts by asking, “Then who can be saved?” They are shocked by this pronouncement because the rich were generally considered especially blessed by God. People with wealth were the ones who could fund the building of the synagogue and give lots of money to worthy causes. If anyone deserved going to heaven, the crowd reasoned, it was the rich people. After all, by the appearance of their lives, they seemed to be favored by God.

            So how do we understand and respond to this parable? I tried finding a small enough camel and a large enough needle, but I still don’t think I can make it work! A natural reaction by many is to come up with all sorts of justifications. For example, maybe we consider ourselves not rich. I mean if you look around and watch any television, clearly there are people who have way more wealth than we do. Mark saw on Jon Stewart’s Daily Show last week a story about a guy who didn’t just want an “off-the-shelf” Ferrari, but a custom made one that cost him $4 million. We can point at people like that and by comparison say that we’re not one of the rich people. But if we’re honest, we will admit that by being students here at UW-Madison or living in the United States, is a clear indication that we are rich. If you have shelter, access to clean water, enough food so that you’re not malnourished, educational opportunities, more than a few sets of clothes—than you are rich in comparison to much of the world. Trying to find a way to make ourselves not fit into the category “rich” might be akin to trying to cram this camel through this needle.

            And this is one of the reasons that this parable is so difficult for people in our society to hear. The rich ruler was given clear instructions by Jesus, but it was like asking the impossible from him. His wealth was not just about material possessions, but also his connection to his family and his identity. Remember that in this culture, wealth often took the form of land and property which was shared among family members and people often defined other’s worth by what they had, which is similar to our culture. Jesus was telling him to give all of that up—to sell everything, leave his family behind, to let go of being defined as a rich ruler, and to follow him. It is no mystery why the rich ruler became very sad.

            These are challenging words from Jesus, and there’s really no sugarcoating them. The temptation is to simply ignore what he says. We may think, “I don’t like what I hear,” or “It’s too hard and unreasonable,” so we just keep on living life like we always do. Before we dismiss this parable though, we need to finish the rest of the story. If we feel like this is an impossible challenge, we are not alone as the crowds who first heard Jesus felt the same way. And so Jesus says to them, “What is impossible for mortals is possible for God.”

            One of the things that Jesus brought to light in his parable was the motivation behind the rich ruler’s question. Looking back in the story, we can see that the ruler was really asking what must he do to earn his way into heaven. The ruler believed in God and so he was used to living ethically, doing good deeds and donating money; now he was wandering just how much more he needed to do. Jesus answered him in a way that made it clear there was nothing he could do that would pay his way into the kingdom of God. In many cultures there is an admiration for those who “pull themselves up by their bootstraps” to make it in the world. These people become heroes and many of us think they deserve what they’ve earned because of the struggle and hard work they put in to get where they are. And there comes the enticement to transfer that way of functioning onto our understanding of how God operates: If we do good enough, than surely God will let us in.

            And that’s where Jesus debunks this good works theology. There is nothing that this rich ruler or we can do that will ever be enough. A camel will have an easier time getting through an eye of a needle than we will have trying to earn our way into the kingdom of God. It is absolutely impossible for us to get ourselves in—only God can do that for us. That is what grace is—a truly free gift that we cannot repay. This is reason for us to rejoice and have hope.

            However, that still leaves us with a question. Does this mean we can ignore Jesus’ command to sell everything we have and give it to the poor? After all, if there’s nothing we can do to earn our way into heaven, then why not just live as we please? My answer is that if that is our conclusion, than we have not understood the grace Jesus extends to us. Yes, we cannot earn our way into heaven, but also yes, we are supposed to give up everything to follow Jesus. What does that practically look like? The answer is different for each of us, but it’s definitely one that will shoot straight to the heart and be demanding. For the rich ruler whose priorities were his material wealth, Jesus issues him a direct challenge to reprioritize. If the thought of selling everything you own and giving the money to the poor makes you recoil, then that’s probably a pretty good sign that you have some wrestling to do with the role material possessions play in your life. After going through this series on the parables in the Gospel of Luke, one thing that should be clear is that Jesus wants us to be very concerned for the welfare of the poor.

            However this change of heart and attitude is not something we are asked to do on our own. As we begin to listen and open ourselves up to God, and as we seek to follow after Jesus, what we will discover is that our hearts become aligned with kingdom priorities. If you ask those who follow after God in radical ways, they will not say that it is their own willpower that allows them to do so. Have you ever wondered about nuns, monks, missionaries, those who give up everything they have known to serve God? What makes them leave everyone they know to go live in a foreign, perhaps dangerous land in very uncomfortable circumstances by our own standards? Why and how do they do it? They will tell you that it is the grace of God which gives them the ability to forsake what the rest of the world considers important to give of themselves for the purposes of God. When we have experienced the goodness, the love, the mercy that we are given freely, we are also given eyes to see the world differently. What at first glance appears impossible, with a changed heart becomes possible because of God’s work in our lives.

            This is not to say that we all need to become monks, nuns, or missionaries! Like I said, following after Jesus with our whole hearts will look different in each of our lives. But it certainly means that if we open ourselves up to this challenge, we will be changed. Parables invite us to shift courses in our lives, not to stay put and do everything as we always have.  They are designed to make us uncomfortable, to make us stop and question how we are living, and to lead us to transformed lives.

            So, I leave you with some questions. What would it look like if you sold everything you owned and gave the money to the poor, then went to follow Jesus? What’s stopping you from doing just that? Why? Do those answers justify yourself, or spur you to a changed life? These are diffcult questions that I encourage you to let sit in your minds and hearts for awhile. Don’t rush them out or dismiss them, but really let them percolate. I suspect that by letting them permeate your daily lives, you will begin to find God’s spirit working in ways that surprise you. And that the grace of Jesus Christ will change your heart.

This sermon is based on the scripture passage Luke 18:1-8. It is the sixth in the series, "Riddles From Jesus - Parables in the Gospel of Luke."

            Have you ever had the experience of not being heard? As a pastor and mother of a two year old, I have many experiences of not being listened to. Sometimes it is during a sermon, when someone is having a nice afternoon siesta, often it is at bedtime when Emma suddenly becomes deaf to my calls to get her little booty into the bath. Though these experiences are a bit annoying, they are not as hurtful as other times I have not been listened to.

            For example, when I was a teenager deciding where to go to college my parents had already made the decision. It didn’t matter what I said, in fact it didn’t make any difference. And once I got to college, though I was unsure of what I wanted to study, they had already figured that out as well too. When I finally made up my mind and it wasn’t in line with what they thought was best, it was like talking to a broken record. They simply could not hear me and just kept saying the same thing to me.

            Another time that sticks out is when I was taking a counseling class and we partnered off to practice the skills we were learning about with one another. I was the “client” so I shared about my ongoing struggle with chronic pain in my arms and hands, and how God was not responding with the healing I had hoped for. My “counselor” proceeded to not hear me at all, and instead told me how I must have some unconfessed sin or something I was refusing to surrender to God—and that was why my prayers went unanswered.

            There are so many ways that we each experience not being heard—in our families, in our workplaces, in our classes, with our friends. We also might have experienced tragedies that suggest God does not hear us. A couple of years ago, my old college pastor’s, ten-year old son died after a lifelong battle with cancer. I can assure you that there were literally thousands of people, all over the world who were praying for that little boy, yet he was not healed from the tumor that took away his eyesight and eventually killed him. In the past couple of weeks, there have been incidents of violence in schools which have taken away a principal’s life here in Wisconsin, and little girls between the ages of 7 and 13 in Pennsylvania. Did God hear their cries and the cries of their families? And what about the ongoing conflict in the Middle East, where senseless violence takes lives of the young and old everyday?

            In our world and in our lives, many of our experiences tell us that no one is listening to us. We go through each day, often not being heard or worse, being heard but misunderstood. It is easy for us to project these painful experiences of not being heard onto our understanding of God. If in our daily lives we are not heard by the people who are right in front of us, then what hope is there that God hears us? After all, when we see young girls being murdered, wars raging on, catastrophic natural disasters, and people suffering, all the evidence points to a God who does not listen to our prayers. We are confronted with a reality that suggests we are not heard, either by people or God, and we are tempted to give up hope.

            Jesus knew that we would face this temptation, knew that we would think our prayers fell on deaf ears. We’re not the only ones. The disciples had no idea what was coming their way as they journeyed along with Jesus, witnessing his miracles and teaching. They had high expectations and their hope grew with each healing and interaction in which Jesus demonstrated wisdom beyond comprehension. Their belief that God would bring justice and freedom to the oppressed, poor, and suffering was strengthened with each display of power.

            But Jesus knew their memories would be short, and their doubts very real. His arrest, trial, beating, and eventual crucifixion would sorely test their faith, and they would be found lacking. Even after his resurrection, their own persecution and suffering would tempt them to feel and think they had been abandoned. And so he told this parable.

            “In a certain city there was a judge who neither feared God nor had respect for people.” This description was far from flattering, in fact it was very negative. Having no consideration for God or people did not mean this judge had an ability to be impartial and objective—it meant he had no sense of right from wrong, evil from good. This judge, who was supposed to uphold justice in his society, could not be appealed to on any basis because he was thoroughly unable to feel shame from any wrongdoing. This judge was not a person who could be persuaded by the plight of the needy, though he might be convinced by a well-placed bribe.

            In the city where this judge ruled, “there was a widow who kept coming to him and saying, ‘Grant me justice against my opponent.’” However, this widow really had no hope of being heard by the judge. After all, she occupied the bottom rung of society and had no money or power to gain an audience with a person of his status. In fact, by law, she was not supposed to be in the presence of a judge because she was a woman. Her opponent was probably a man who was paying the judge with money to keep him ruling in his favor. While he enjoyed access to the judge, the widow had to shout her request from outside the court because she wasn’t even allowed to enter in. In other words, the widow’s plea was more than a longshot, it was shooting for the moon.

            And so the judge’s response was predictable. He refused to hear her and her cries for justice. “But later he said to himself, ‘Though I have no fear of God and no respect for anyone, because this widow keeps bothering me, I will grant her justice, so that she may not wear me out by continually coming.’” The judge, unmoved by the fact that he was denying justice to a poor widow, was irritated enough by her persistence that he gave in. In fact, he was a bit surprised at the widow’s boldness which defied social custom, and thought maybe she might even get bolder in her actions. Against all odds, the widow was not only heard by the judge, but also received a favorable ruling. And here ends Jesus’ parable.

            Our first reaction to this story may not be one of comfort, but instead, discomfort. We are tempted to think that God is like this judge, fickle and only answers when he is bothered enough by our incessant prayers, or worse, he doesn’t bother answering at all. But that is not the point Jesus is making!

            Jesus demands our attention and tells us to listen carefully. “Listen! Listen to what the unjust judge says,” the one who feels no shame or remorse, who does not care for those who are suffering injustice. This judge, in the end, even he granted justice. If this judge who does not have any regard for his fellow citizens, if he heard the widow, what does that tell you about God? About the God who loves you like a mother loves her young baby, who weeps when her children are in pain, who desires fullness of life and joy for her little ones? “Will not God grant justice to God’s chosen ones who cry out to him day and night? Will God delay long in helping them? I tell you, God will quickly grant justice to them!” God hears each prayer, listens with compassion, and answers. In fact, God has already answered definitively in Jesus Christ.

            By coming to us in the flesh, God has shown us that we have been heard. Jesus Christ entered into our broken world not to throw us all out because we were hopeless, but to save us from our messes and give us new hope. He came face to face with evil and suffered an unjust death at the hands of sinful people. But the final answer came when he overcame the mess, the brokenness, the sin, the death. God through Jesus Christ has seen and heard our cries. God is with us.

            Yet we are still tempted to not hear Jesus as we quickly point out where injustice and suffering persist—we stop listening and lose hope. We are like the disciples who one by one, desert Jesus as his journey to the cross begins. We forget what God has already accomplished, what God has promised us, and we lose our way. Because we live in an “inbetween” existence, where God’s justice and redemption are certain, even though it is not fully realized right now, we falsely think that God does not hear us as we cry out from the depths. And so after telling us for certain that God answers, in the same breath Jesus asks, “When the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on earth?” Will we persist on like the widow, will we press on even in the face of overwhelming circumstances, will we keep hope in a God who hears us and will answer?

            This is not a small task that Jesus is calling us to. As the people of God, we are called not only to pursue righteousness, but also to trust in God’s promises of justice and redemption, especially in the face of suffering. We are to be people of hope and faith where the only logical response is to give up. But our hope is not based on a reasoned rationale, but the inexplicable, lavish gift of grace given to us through Jesus Christ. We can only imagine the despair the disciples felt when they saw their Lord arrested, beaten, crucified and killed. If there was any time to give up faith, it was then. But against all odds and logical reason, Jesus overcame sin and death to give us a hope that would not fail.

            This does not mean we live in denial. There is far too much brokenness in our world for us to live in denial about the very real suffering and pain going on. All you have to do is open the newspaper to see that injustice abounds. But we do hold onto the hope that God is with us, hears us, and answers us. We step into our broken world with the confidence that God’s love is more than enough. Listen again to Psalm 46, and be reminded that we worship a God who listens to us and will fulfill God’s promises.          

“God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.” God has been with us over the years, through joys and sorrows, good times and hardship. God continues to walk with us today.

“Therefore we will not fear, though the earth should change,” in 9.0 earthquakes, and “though the mountains shake in the heart of the sea” causing massive tsunamis;   ^“though its waters roar and foam” in category 5 hurricanes, “though the mountains tremble with its tumult” and echo with the wailing of those left behind.

 ^“The nations are in an uproar, the kingdoms totter,” Iraq, Sudan, Israel; “God utters his voice, the earth melts.”  Yet,  ^“The LORD of hosts is with us; the God of Jacob is our refuge.”

^“Come, behold the works of the LORD.” Stop, listen. Listen to the promises of God. ^“God makes wars cease to the end of the earth.” Peace will come. “God breaks the bow, and shatters the spear; God burns the shields with fire.” Violence shall cease, there will be no need to protect oneself from it anymore. 

"Be still, and know that I am God! I am exalted among the nations, I am exalted in the earth." Remember what I have done, remember what I have promised. I am trustworthy and will bring it to full completion.

^“The LORD of hosts is with us; the God of Jacob is our refuge.” Amen.

This is the fifth sermon in the series, "Riddles from Jesus - Parables in the Gospel of Luke." The scripture passage is Luke 16:1-13 (The Dishonest Manager).

I have to confess I have been a little irritated with Erica this week, because I have to preach on today’s parable. :) This may be the most difficult parable to understand in all of Matthew, Mark and Luke. And I am blaming Erica because she put together this series of Parables in the Gospel of Luke! There are by some counts 18 parables in the book of Luke. She chose 7 of them for this series. And she had to choose this one. And I happened to end up preaching on it instead of her! I have spent a lot of time this week thinking about this parable. I have read three commentaries on it - experts writing about what they think it means. And all three of them completely disagree. Not just on a few details but on what it actually means. In fact they even refer to each other with comments like, “so and so suggests that the parable is about this...but they are totally misreading it...” The only thing they really agree on is that the parable is difficult to understand. 

So here we are today looking at this difficult passage of the bible. Part of me wishes that we had chosen a different passage. But then part of me is glad that we have to face it. Because the bible is full of difficult passages. This is a tough parable but there are other passages in other places in the Bible that are even more difficult. What do we do when we encounter hard passages? Sometimes they are hard because we don’t understand them – What do they mean? Sometimes they are hard because they say something we don’t want to hear. What do we do with the Bible when we come across passages like that? This question could be the topic of another whole sermon but I will simply say today that I recommend we go after the difficulty head on. We face it, look at it, ask questions about it, and pray for insight. And we should be ready to have some questions left unanswered. Because we almost certainly will. But through it all I do believe that the Bible is a living document which will speak to us in some way even if we don’t understand every word of it. 

That is the approach I am going to take today with this difficult parable. I will warn you that this exploration might be a bit complicated but I am going to push us to face one of the most difficult questions in the parable and see if we can hear some message from God coming out of it. I will also warn you that we will likely end today without all the questions answered. And yet I trust God will still speak through our exploration. So let’s listen to the parable from Luke 16:1-13.

Every time I read this parable I think, “What a weird story!” There are two characters introduced at the beginning. One is a wealthy land owner and the other is his manager. The master, the owner, becomes aware that the manager is somehow squandering his property. This word, “squander” is the same word we encountered a few weeks ago in the parable of the Prodigal Son who went off and wasted half the family fortune on reckless living. We don’t know exactly what he is doing but the manager has been reckless in some way with the master’s money. So the master comes to the manger and fires him. He tells him to get the books together and turn them in because he is done as the property manager. 

The manager is suddenly in a very tight spot. He is without a job – no income, and he is going to be disgraced in the community because of his sudden termination. He momentarily considers manual labor and even begging but neither of those will restore his reputation in the community. So he quickly comes up with a little scheme to try and save himself. He summons the tenants who rent land from his master and does something quite risky. Each of these tenants owes a lot to the master in rent. They will pay it at the end of the growing season. The manger tells them to take out their bills, the accounting of what they owe, and has them reduce the amount by up to 50%. The parable details two tenants but these two are probably examples of a whole list of people. The manager does all this in haste while he is supposedly collecting the accounting books to turn into his master. He must do it before anyone finds out he has been fired or before the master discovers what he is doing. 

Why does he make this risky move? He is already in the dog-house and now he just gave away a huge amount of his master’s income for the year in a matter of minutes. Well it appears that he does this in order to make some friends in the community because he is soon going to be out on the streets. Money is a mechanism for making friends. As we have seen in other parables in our series, people in Jesus’ time throw banquets and host dinners for others in the community. When they do this they are also setting themselves up for re-payment. When they give something to someone they expect something in return. Last week Erica talked about how this works in her family in a very vivid way. If her parents are invited to the wedding of one of their friends who attended our wedding her parents must consult our gift list and are sure to bring a gift of equal or greater value to the gift that we received from their friends. Generosity is highly valued, but it must also be repaid. So the manager in this parable is counting on the tenants repaying him later for his “generosity” to them.

Amazingly this crazy scheme seems to meet the approval of the master! The manager is commended for his shrewd move in self-preservation. He is praised for being “wise” in his dealings with the master’s money. And this is where the parable becomes dumbfounding. What does it mean? What is Jesus trying to say or challenge the listeners with by telling this story? The summary of what happens seems quite simple but there are so many questions it raises. 

Is the master good or bad? Has he been involved in taking advantage of his tenants and now the manager is just returning the bills to a normal level? Or is the master an upstanding, honorable citizen? If he is, why does he praise the manager for lying? Why doesn’t he throw the manager in jail immediately? These are the kinds of questions that no one can seem to agree on.

But one of the most interesting and difficult questions is this: Does Jesus praise the dishonesty of the manager? In telling this story is Jesus holding up this liar as an example to us all? Is Jesus suggesting that we emulate his actions? This is the question that I spent some time this week trying to avoid. Trying to keep out of my sermon. Because if Jesus is praising the actions of this lying, stealing manager...well that just doesn’t seem right. I tried to think of a way around it so we wouldn’t have to face the difficulty of this passage. But like I said earlier, one of the best ways to deal with difficult passages is to face the hardest questions head on. Often it is there we find the most interesting insights. In the case of today’s parable I think this issue is at the root of what we might get out of the passage. So I will suggest some thoughts on this question, but before I do I want us all to take a crack at answering it. To get our minds going with this difficulty in the passage. So turn to your neighbor for a couple of minutes and tell each other what you think. You don’t have to know any answers. Just take some guesses. Is Jesus praising the dishonesty of the manager? Does Jesus want us to be like this character in some way? And how do you feel about that suggestion? 

So what do you think? Is Jesus pointing out this dishonest manager as an example to us? I think he is. Believe it or not I think he is. As odd as it might seem, Jesus is suggesting that we are supposed to be like the dishonest manager. 

There are in fact three ways that we are supposed to be like the manager. First, we should be shrewd (or wise) in our dealings with money. Second, we should use money to make friends. And third we should do both of these things actively and with haste. But before you think I am going to tell you to go and lie, cheat and take advantage of people for personal gain lets look at these points a little more closely. I must warn you that this might be a bit intense and complicated but I think it is worth looking at.

There is no question about it - this manager makes a brilliant move when his back is against the wall. He is very wise in his dealings with money. Instead of trying to plead his case before the master which was going to get him nowhere he takes action. Instead of quitting in dismay he moves proactively. He uses someone else’s money to buy himself a future. He saves himself from hard labor and begging. It is all pretty slick. There is something very appealing about this in an odd way – he pulls himself up by his bootstraps. He is like a participant on the TV show the Apprentice who impresses Donald Trump with his ingenuity and creativity in order to win the contest. He is a great example of how many people have figured out the system so they can benefit. Isn’t that part of what success in life takes? I know that I benefited a great deal from figuring out the system at college – how to take tests. Because I am a good test taker I was able to do well in school even if I didn’t always know the most material. I figured out the system. This manager does the same and Jesus points that out to the people listening to this story. He says, “the children of this age are more shrewd in dealing with their own generation than are the children of light.

This term “children of light” is found in other parts of the New Testament in reference to followers of Christ. The Children of light are those who follow God. They are those who know God and are supposedly enlightened in some way. But Jesus isn’t particularly glowing in his description of the children of light here in this verse. In fact he contrasts the Christians, the religious people, with the children of this age who are more shrewd and more wise than the children of light. The manager is a “child of this age.” He is wise in the ways of the world. He has figured out the system. And this is what Jesus praises – what Jesus’ wants us, the children of light, to follow. He wants us to be wise. To figure out the system. To make smart moves with money.

So does that mean that the executives of Enron had it right? That grabbing all we can get for ourselves is the way we should play the game? Perhaps I should forget the rest of this sermon and get out there in the world and try to get as much for myself as possible.

No...because of course there is a twist. The system that Jesus wants us to figure out is not the same as the one the manager in this parable uses. Yes, we are to emulate the wisdom of the manager but the rules of Jesus’ game are totally different than the rules the manager plays by. Jesus points towards the rules of the Kingdom of God, a kingdom that he began during his time as God incarnate on earth. A kingdom that will come to full completion at the end of time. The rules of this kingdom are very different. We are supposed to be wise and shrewd in playing by those rules. We are supposed to figure out that system. The kingdom of God system.

And if we are wise in the Kingdom of God as Children of Light what do we do with money? We make friends. We make friends with our money. This is the second way we can emulate the manager of the parable. The manager used wealth to make friends. He knew he was going to need some friends once he got fired so he used money – his masters’ money – to build the networks he was going to need. He knew the system. He knew that by lowering the debts of the tenants they would then owe him. They would be obligated to repay him. They would not be equal friends because they would be indebted to him. So when he was later in need he could go to them and get something in return. He figured out the system. That is worth us emulating.

But again there is a twist. Because the manager made friends who would pay him back. In the Kingdom of God, friends do not owe each other. We too should use money to make friends. But the friends that we make in Jesus’ system are under no obligation to pay us back. In fact, in Jesus’ system they are only friends if we do not expect anything in return. Like the manager, we are stewards of God’s wealth. And we are to freely use our master’s money to make real friends in a deep, fundamental sense. Friends who will not repay us. Friends we may not even know. Friends who may never know what we have done. This is radical concept. God’s kingdom works very differently than the world. Reciprocation and repayment are foreign. Money is not to be shrewdly used for our own gain – but to benefit others who cannot, and should not, pay us back. I can’t beat around the bush – Jesus challenges us to give money to the poor and needy. We will not get anything back from them nor buy our way into heaven – but we will be acting wisely.

And making friends with our money is not just literally giving money away -though that is central. When I say “make friends” I also mean do things that matter. Use money for things that are important. Spending money is more than simply deciding what to buy for ourselves. It is more than choosing whether to go to a movie or buy some songs off I-Tunes. It has deep, serious implications. Is money simply a tool for our own gain? Or does our money contribute to something real, to something eternal, to something lasting? I don’t know how you might answer this question specifically in your own life. But it is a serious question. It is one that Jesus raises throughout the parables of Luke.

International Justice Mission tries to be shrewd in a lasting way. They use money, some of which comes from us here at Pres House in our weekly offering, and legal expertise, to save people from terrible injustice. For example, a young woman named Panida was trafficked from her home in Thailand to be sold as a prostitute in Malaysia. IJM investigated and was able to rescue her before she was sexually assaulted. They returned her to her home where she is back in school. Lawyers used their skills shrewdly in the ways of the kingdom of God to make a friend in Panida. And our offering money that goes to IJM made her a friend of ours also, even though we will almost certainly never meet her.

So yes, Jesus does lift the manager up as an example in this parable. Be shrewd. Make friends with your money. But not in the way the manager does – do these things in the way of the kingdom of God. Under a very different set of rules. The third action of the manager worth emulating is, however, to be done exactly as the manager does it. We are to move with haste. The manager wastes no time once he realizes the reality of his situation. He makes an incredible move with his master’s money in a matter of minutes. That is all the time he has. He cannot dally, he cannot hem and haw, he cannot ponder all the pros and cons. He must act. And so he does.

Jesus seems to always be talking about money. So much so, that it may even be the topic he talks most about. So, it must be important. What we think – and do – with money is important to God. We cannot be neutral towards it. The final verse of our passage today is pretty stark: ¹³ No slave can serve two masters; for a slave will either hate the one and love the other, or be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and wealth." Money itself is not bad. It is not as if we are not going to use money – of course we are. The question is how are we going to use it. Either we use it shrewdly for God’s purposes or we use it shrewdly for ourselves. Either we figure out the system as children of this age or we figure out the system as children of light. There is no middle ground. We cannot remain neutral. And when we discover this reality we must act with haste. There is no time to hem and haw about the pros and cons of acting wisely with our money. Because it is important – vitally important. We have our master’s wealth at our disposal right now with an opportunity to make real friends by sharing with those who cannot repay. Don’t wait until you are older, more mature, more established before you consider how you spend your money. Like the manager, act now, and act creatively.

This is the fourth sermon in the series, "Riddles from Jesus - Parables in the Gospel of Luke." The scripture passage is Luke 14:15-24 (The Great Dinner).

We’re at the halfway point in our series, “Riddles from Jesus – Parables in the Gospel of Luke.” Today’s story is set amidst a meal—it is in fact a meal within a meal. Jesus is invited to a leader of the Pharisees house for the Sabbath dinner. Pharisees were religious leaders who occupied the social elite of the Jewish community. They were well-educated and only associated with people of similar status and honor. The fact that this man was a leader of the Pharisees indicates that he was a powerful and influential person in the community. It is safe to assume that the other guests at the meal were his peers, people who also held prominent positions in society.

            During this dinner, several things happen which spur Jesus to teach his fellow guests. He heals a man with dropsy on the Sabbath, he notices people taking the seats of honor, and he tells two parables. The common theme is about reversals. The first become last and the lowly are exalted as Jesus defies expectations about proper orders. The Pharisees think they understand who is going to be in the kingdom of God and who they are supposed to associate with. Being experts in religious law, they had strict rules which they followed to a tee. However, Jesus comes along and challenges all their notions with this parable. Let’s listen now to the scripture passage for today…

            Mark and I will be celebrating our 7^th wedding anniversary in a few weeks. I still remember all the preparations and details that went into planning our big day. I remember sending invitations out and eagerly receiving the replies. I also remember all the people who said they were coming but on the day didn’t show up—fortunately most of them gave pretty good excuses! In the months preceding our wedding, my mom had many ideas about what our reception would look like—she wanted a Chinese Banquet that would impress all of her guests. She had a long list of people she wanted to invite to our wedding, people I had never met, but that she felt it was important to be on the guest list. In Taiwanese culture (and perhaps many other cultures too), weddings are not just about the two people who are actually getting married, but it’s an opportunity, almost an obligation to demonstrate your wealth and status. The guests who come and the details of the banquet give clear signs of the kind of family you come from; my mom definitely felt the pressure to host a memorable wedding reception so the Taiwanese community wouldn’t talk poorly of her daughter and family.

Well, we didn’t end up having a Chinese Banquet, but there were definitely a number of people I didn’t know who were at our wedding. After we got back from the honeymoon, we were given strict instructions to make a detailed list of what we had received as a gift from each of my parents’ guests. This was so they could reciprocate equally if not more when they were invited to the guests’ children’s weddings. When they received an invitation to a wedding, they would consult our gift list to determine what the appropriate gift was for them to bring. It was very important that they maintained their honor by observing these unwritten rules.

            Today’s parable has some similarities to my own story, as it is set in a culture where honor and shame are very powerful influences. Sharing a meal with another person was not done lightly—one had to make sure that the other person was of proper status, respectable and pure. When a large banquet was thrown, the guest list was of utmost importance because the people who attended would indicate the status of the host in the community. It would kind of be like a celebrity throwing a big party, and everyone looking to see who showed up to the event. Are there lots of other big-name stars? That’s a sign of prestige and high status. Are there a bunch of people who nobody has ever heard of? That may be an indication this celebrity isn’t quite the famous star he thought he was. And of course, everyone would want to know the lavish details of the party, like how much money was spent on decadent luxuries. All these particulars give entertainment magazines and shows the ability to spend endless columns and hours of air time discussing the relative importance of a celebrity in our society.

            Jesus tells this parable to an audience that is familiar with this kind of game. Pharisees were very conscious of their own standing and other people’s standing in the community. And so he opens his story by describing a scene they would be familiar with—an important man hosting a great dinner for other important people in the community. Like a wedding, invitations were sent out ahead of time so that the host could get an accurate headcount on who was coming. Once he knew the number, he could plan accordingly regarding food. If it was just a few people, preparing a chicken would suffice. However if it was a large number, then he would have to butcher an animal big enough to feed everyone. There were no refrigerators to store the meat meaning all of it had to be cooked and eaten on the same day—all of it had to be used because none of it could be saved. Once the headcount was in and the host began preparations, that guest list was assumed to be finalized. It’s not unlike a wedding reception where you pay for the number who said they were coming regardless of who actually shows up.

            The tradition of those times meant that once the feast was ready, the guests were notified to come immediately. This is when things start to go awry in the parable. Instead of coming to the dinner, all of them begin to give excuses about why they are not coming. Not only that, but they give really lame excuses. The first guy says that he can’t come because he’s just bought a piece of land and now he needs to go see it. This would be like someone saying, “I just bought a new house over the phone, and now I’m going to go look at it.” Well, even if someone was crazy enough to buy a house without ever seeing it, he still could have gone to the banquet and looked at the house later since he already owned it. It’s not a valid excuse and is really meant to offend the host.

            The second guy has an equally poor excuse, as he says that he’s just bought five yoke of oxen and now needs to try them out. No one bought an ox, let alone five yoke of oxen, without trying them out to make sure that they were satisfactory. It would be like me looking in the classifieds today for a Ferrari, calling up the owner and buying it sight unseen. This too was a thinly veiled excuse, designed to embarrass the host. These first two guests though, at least make a superficial attempt to excuse themselves, by saying, “Please accept my regrets.”

            The third guy, however, simply says, “I’ve just been married so I can’t come.” At first glance this may actually seem like a good excuse. After all, Mark and I made sure that after our wedding day we went on a honeymoon far away where no one could reach us. But when this guy says that he’s just been married, it doesn’t mean that the wedding took place on the same day or even recently. In a village, people would not plan a big feast on the same day as another one because there would be no sense in competing for guests. This third guy is simply snubbing the host, saying he can’t be apart from his wife for one evening though he had already accepted the invitation to the great dinner.

            Well predictably the host gets pretty angry when his slave returns and reports what all his invited guests have said. His peers, also wealthy and of high status, seemed to have coordinated a coup to publicly shame him. By refusing to come, they have exhibited shocking behavior and it would have been the talk of the village. The Pharisees would have no doubt understood how the host had been humiliated. As the parable continues, however, the host does something that would have stunned the Pharisees even more.

            Instead of seeking to restore his reputation or enact revenge upon his peers, the host ignores the whole system of honor, status, and shame. He instructs his slave to invite all the outcasts of society, the people who his original guests wouldn’t be caught dead with. The poor, the crippled, the blind, the lame, and the people who lived out on the roads and lanes of the village, meaning they were of low status because of their occupation or family heritage—these were the new guests that the host brought into his great dinner. The Pharisees would have surely been scandalized by such a guest list because they could never imagine associating with these kinds of people, let alone sharing a meal with them. After all they were defiled, impure, sinful, uneducated, non-religious people who did not even know how to behave amongst respectable folks like themselves.

            Even the new guests would have been surprised by the invitation to come to this great man’s dinner. The honor and shame system worked both ways, keeping the people of low status in their places too. Their natural response would have been to refuse to come to the dinner because they understood they were not worthy to be in the presence of such a noble man. Plus they certainly could not reciprocate this lavish gift and so would have been indebted to the host. In fact they wouldn’t dare accept because it would have been outrageous for such a lowly person to even consider going, he would have thought it was a joke or trap. That is why the host of the great dinner tells his slave to compel the people to come in to his house. He knows these new guests will not believe that they have been invited to the feast, that it is simply too good to be true. The slave will have to coax them in, and tell them over and over that yes, indeed, they are the ones that the host wants to enjoy his banquet with.

            The parable ends with the declaration from the host that none of the original guests will taste his dinner. At this point the Pharisees, along with us, are left to ponder the implications of what Jesus has just said. He has just revealed a dramatic reversal of the prevailing social ladder to an audience who occupied the top rung. Jesus was directly challenging their assumptions about who was worthy to be in God’s presence and their own. We don’t know how they respond after this parable, but there are some things for us to contemplate.

            The host in the parable is often thought to be Jesus and the great dinner symbolizes the kingdom of God. Ultimately, Jesus invites people who have no way of repaying him. The people who get to come are those who are imperfect, broken, the screwed-up type who live on the outskirts of town because they are outcast from society. Now I for one have to admit that I generally identify more with the Pharisees. I come from a well-off family, went to college and graduate school, and as a pastor I’m a religious teacher like the Pharisees were. I’m certainly not well-known in the community, but I have a pretty comfortable place in it. And in the wider context of the world’s population, I am definitely richer than most as an American.

            So what does that mean? I think the trap that Pharisees and others like them fall into, is a false sense that they can earn their way into the presence of God. The Pharisees had their credentials—well educated, clean living, religious leaders, and material wealth. It was a comfortable life which might have lulled them into a sense of enjoying God’s favor. It also allowed them to justify their judgment and indifference towards the people at the bottom of the social ladder. Sure they might have given some money once in awhile, even did a bit of charity work, but they would never stoop to the level of identifying themselves with one of the outcast. To do so would mean admitting that they were just as unable to repay the host of the great dinner—that they were indebted to God too.

            In church we throw the word “grace” around a lot, like we’re all supposed to know what that means, but I think grace is actually one of the hardest things for us to understand. Some of us fall into the category of the Pharisees, where our lives are pretty good and so grace doesn’t seem that necessary. What do I need it for when I’m not broken? For others of us, we are so burdened with how messed up we are that grace escapes us because we simply cannot believe it is for us. We don’t know anything but failure and cannot imagine anything different. In both cases we make excuses about why we aren’t going to the host’s dinner.

            Regardless of where you are, the invitation to the great dinner is extended to all of us and the truth is no one of us can repay the host. There are very different customs at this host’s banquet where honor and status mean nothing and the bottom are equal with the top. Jesus introduces a radical reordering of the world that is both comforting, and honestly a bit disturbing. On the one hand, we are assured that there is nothing we have to do to come to the table. It is an invitation given by a host who knows that we cannot reciprocate in any way. On the other hand, however, it means God’s kingdom looks nothing like the way most of our world operates. Status, power, wealth, influence, your impressive resume—none of these things translate into God’s kingdom. This reversal of the social ladder is somewhat unsettling, as most of us are taught at the very least to hold onto our own rung but if you can, climb a few steps higher. God simply throws out the ladder though.

            And so we are invited to imagine what our lives would look like if we threw out our ladders too. They’re not any use, in fact they are merely illusions which when we get too high or low on, trick us into thinking they actually determine our place before God. In this new reality, where the first shall be last and the last shall be first, we are challenged to see the world and people in it with fresh eyes.

This is the third sermon in the series, "Riddles from Jesus - Parables in the Gospel of Luke." The scripture passage is Luke 15:11-32 (The Prodigal Son).

We are moving through our series “Riddles from Jesus – Parables in the Gospel of Luke.” Each week we are looking at a different parable Jesus told as recorded in the book of Luke. Today we are going to explore a parable that may be familiar to you. It is the story of the Prodigal Son. The Son who was lost and then found. This parable occurs in the middle of a discourse by Jesus and immediately after two shorter parables about lost things – a lost sheep and a lost coin. All three of these “lost” parables are told in response to religious leaders questioning Jesus about why he welcomes sinners and eats with them. Why does he spend time with people who are unclean and unholy? This parable answers that better than any theological statement can.

How many of you are the oldest child in your family? Middle? Youngest? How many are only children? We have a nice mix of people here today. TIME magazine ran a cover story a couple of months ago about how siblings or lack of siblings might have as much of an impact on who we are as our relationship with our parents does. I don’t know if that is true but I do know that my younger sister played an important role in my life. You might have noticed each week there is a title for the parable we are looking at. The title for today is: “The youngest always gets away with more.” Does that strike you as true? It is obviously a gross generalization designed to provoke thought more than anything. My younger sister would probably say that I got away with more as the older brother. But there are a few instances where she was able to do things I wasn’t. For example for my first birthday party my mother baked me a homemade cake. Not from a box, not from the store. Nice huh!? Well the reason she did this was not because she is a gourmet pastry chef but so she could leave out all the sugar. Yes, it was a completely sugar free birthday cake believe it or not. Can such a thing actually exist?! As you might imagine by the time my sister’s first birthday rolled around she got to stuff her face with sugar full cake, candy and everything else. So maybe it is a generalization but sometimes the youngest gets away with more.

Today’s parable is built around family relationships. Between two sons and a father. In this parable they are male characters but feel free to imagine they are two sisters or a brother and a sister. The gender is based more on the culture of the time when the story was told than on being male. As you listen to this story think about which son (or child) you resonate most with. Who you feel most sorry for? Who do you root for in this story?
          
So, who do you resonate most with in this story? If you were one of the sons which one would you be? The younger son who takes his inheritance and goes off to spend it on fun living? Or the older son who conscientiously stays at home and does his duty? Maybe you relate to one character more than the other because of your sibling relationships and birth order – or maybe one just seems to be more like you than the other. 

On first reading it does appear that the youngest son gets away with more in this story. That may seem natural and okay to you – clearly he was simply exploring life and living it unlike his brother who was a bit of a loser. Or it might make you angry like the older son who did his duty while his brother went off and spent half the family fortune on himself. In any case, at first reading it seems as though the younger son gets away with more.

The younger son comes to his father and asks him for his portion of the family inheritance. The inheritance would have been land owned by the father. This request of the younger son is very unusual, and extremely insulting of his father. Because he is basically wishing his father’s death. A father would almost never give his sons their inheritance before his death. And a son would absolutely never ask for it! It could only be given freely if it was to be given at all. To ask for ones inheritance is to say, “Won’t you just die so I can get my money?” So it is amazing that the father agrees to this request – but he does! He goes ahead and gives his son the inheritance.
 
Then the insult gets worse. Even if an inheritance was granted before death the land couldn’t be sold. Because it provided the whole family with something to live off. But here the younger son sells his portion, takes the money and leaves the family to go live in a far off country! He has to sell it quickly because the people in the community would have been horrified and disgusted by the insolence of the son selling off his father’s land before he has died. But the son ignores all of this and heads out to live in a far away place. He rejects his father. He rejects his brother. He rejects the community. He takes off with the money. It isn’t clear what exactly he does with it except to spend it on “wild living”, reckless living. Sounds kind of fun!

 Meanwhile the older son has been dutifully serving his father. Even serving like a slave doing everything that his father has asked. He didn’t leave the family land. He didn’t waste the family money. He probably worked hard everyday farming, tending animals, taking care of his father. His younger brother may have taken off but he, the elder, did the right thing.

All of the wild living the younger son engages in might have been fun but it eats up all his money. He is left with nothing just at the time a famine hits the area. Suddenly the respectable son of a Jewish nobleman finds himself tending pigs - the most unclean of animals for Jews. Soon he is wishing he could fill up on the black, bitter berries the pigs are eating. No one can help him even if they wanted to. He hits rock bottom with only death by starvation in view.

The dire situation brings him to his senses. So he decides to go home to his father’s house. But even at this point he hasn’t really repented of his mistake – he is just trying to figure out a way to survive. So he comes up with a plan to make the best of a terrible situation. He will go back home and ask his father to hire him on as an employee. That way he can have some food to eat and maybe even make enough money eventually to pay his father back. By being an employee rather than a family member he can avoid actually reconciling with his family – he will live in the village not on the family land. He will live as outsider, not as a son or a brother. He can avoid them both to some extent. It is a pretty good plan – he has thought of a way he can save himself from his mistakes. Clean up the mess he has made. So he heads home with his speech all planned out hoping for the best.

As he nears the edge of the village he is probably steeling himself up for the bitter, nasty reception he will receive not only from his family but also from the rest of the village community. He is ready to run the gauntlet that will surely be laid out before him. But when he arrives something very different happens from what he expects. Instead of facing utter humiliation he witness his father subject himself to an even greater humiliation. His father literally runs to him – a very embarrassing thing to do as noblemen never ran in public because it was in poor taste. His father kisses his son on the cheek in a sign of forgiveness before the son can kiss the father on the hand in a sign of submission. His father protects him from the negative reaction of the villagers by making it clear he is welcomed home. Servants are ordered to go and prepare a feast with the choicest calf – a feast that will feed up to a 100 people! And the father offers his own best robe for the son to wear. A robe to cover up the dirt of poor living. A robe to cover up the smell of pigs. A robe to cover up the mistakes of his past. His son rejected him completely. But the father accepts the son unconditionally. He extends him incredible grace and forgiveness at the cost of utter humiliation and degradation in front of the whole community. He reinstates his son into the family – not as a hired hand, but as a child. As a member of the family.

It is hard to overstate the depth of this grace and the incredible humiliation the father goes through in order to love his son. When his son came to him and said, “Give me my money, I wish you would just die.” He gave him the money. When his son returns after utter failure the father welcomes him back into the family without a second thought.

I have trouble even thinking of examples of this depth of grace that we might be familiar with today. Because it is so incredible. So awesome in the full sense of that word. It is like writing an article in the paper about how terrible your parents are – and then they praise your skill as an author. Only it isn’t. It is so much more than that. It is like cheating on your girlfriend or boyfriend with their best friend – over and over again. And then they ask you to marry them. Or borrowing your friend’s laptop, dropping it into the fountain out here on Library Mall. And then instead of demanding repayment he or she buys YOU a new laptop. Only it isn’t really. It is like everyone you have ever known hearing all the secret mean things you have thought about them over the years. And then they all throw you a huge party to let you know how much they love you. Only it is so much more than that even. It is like God covering all of your mistakes, your sins, your brokeness with a brand new robe so that you shine like a star. It is like God hugging you, kissing you, inviting you back into the family...after you have denounced God as something only stupid, needy people fabricate in order to feel better about themselves. It IS like that. It is like that.

The younger son got away with an awful lot. An awful lot. Is that fair? The older son doesn’t think so. He is quick to point out to his father that he didn’t waste the family fortune and reject his family. Can you resonate with the older son? What if you did everything right and your brother or sister did everything wrong but your parents buy him or her the new car you have always wanted? How do you handle that? Maybe it is because I am an older child that I relate to the feelings of the older son. I feel mad when I read this parable. Yes, I know the parable is about God’s grace and love and it is amazing and moving to hear this story of the depth of God’s love. But where is the justice - at least my version of it?  What about the people who live good lives? What about the people who don’t make as many mistakes? What about the people who never reject God? Shouldn’t they get some kind of special prize?

Well here is a question: Do such people actually exist? Even if I think highly of myself am I really that great? The older son points out correctly that he has served as a slave for his father. But he doesn’t acknowledge the real state of the relationship between them. Look back at the beginning of the parable. The inheritance is divided and given to BOTH sons. Not just the younger one who asked. This is odd. Why doesn’t the older son refuse his portion of the inheritance? If he is such a good son why doesn’t he try to repair the relationship between his brother and father? That would have been a very appropriate role for him to play in the family. He does neither of those things. Instead he accepts his part of the inheritance with silence. And in doing so he too breaks relationship with his father and brother. Then when his brother returns home, instead of rejoicing that he isn’t dead, he makes an awful scene with the whole community present. It is expected that he as the oldest son will play host at the party. He will greet guests and pass out wine. But instead he refuses to even go inside. He causes his father a double dose of humiliation because now his father has to come out of the house with everyone watching and beg his son to come inside. In a culture where sons do not disobey fathers, especially in public, this is a gross mistake. When his father comes out to speak with him he doesn’t even address his father with a greeting – he just launches into his complaint. He says he has never disobeyed his father’s orders but his actions that afternoon did just that. His pride separates them. And when he speaks about his brother it is clear they are estranged because he calls him, “your son,” rather than “my brother.”

The older son has a broken relationship with his family also. He has never physically left the family land but he has left emotionally and spiritually. He is estranged from his father and his brother. There are in fact more similarities between the brothers than differences. The details might be different but the problems are very much the same. One brother left the family by way of his feet. The other left by way of his heart. Both sought to live as hired hands or slaves of their father – when what their father really wanted was sons. Not slaves but sons.
And both are recipients of incredible grace and love at great cost to the father. The younger son came home planning on working as a hired hand. Planning on saving himself. But when he gets home he cannot even finish his prepared speech. Instead he is overcome by his father’s love. He falls into that love and puts on the new robe offered to him. He puts on the robe and joins the party.

The older son receives that same depth of love from his father. Despite the insult of remaining outside the party the older son is greeted by his father with the loving title: “My son.” And he too is invited into the party. He is invited to let down the walls separating him from father and brother. He is invited to receive grace and reconciliation. So maybe the youngest doesn’t really get away with more. Maybe they both get away with everything. Because they are both loved by their father.

Two weeks ago we looked at a parable which ended before we knew what finally happened. On Friday night Erica and I watched a movie that suddenly ended without knowing what happened to the characters. Some of us have been waiting months to find out what is going to happen next on Gray’s Anatomy after a cliffhanger season finale last spring. I find abrupt these endings a bit unsettling because I want to know what happens next. What did the older son do in this parable? Did he accept the invitation to go back into the house and join the party? Did he fall into his father’s love and grace? Or did he stay outside? Perhaps in the end there is only one real difference between the two sons. The younger son accepts the offer of grace from his father. He puts on the robe and joins the party. As the parable closes one son is standing inside the house wearing a new robe and the other is standing outside resisting his father’s grace. Does the older son accept the offer of grace in the end? Does he join the party? I hope he does. The grace of the father is very powerful. I hope in the end that grace prevails.

The lack of ending to this parable also leaves us with some questions: What will we do with the incredible, overwhelming grace God offers to us. --- Which son do you most resonate with? Do you identify with the younger son – having walked away from God? Are you living in a far off land estranged from God? Are you spending your life, your inheritance, the gifts God has given you – on yourself? Or are you like the older son? Have you spent your whole life in church doing the right thing? Saying the right thing? Living out of duty rather than out of love? Have you played the part of the good child while fighting God’s grace? To all of us God says, “My child.” God welcomes us home if we left by foot, by heart or by both. God wants us as children. Not slaves. God wants us to be reconciled to God and to each other. God wants ALL of us to be at the party. This grace is very powerful. God reaches out to offer us a beautiful new robe. And invites us to join the party.

Do we put on the robe and walk inside?

This sermon is the second in the series, "Riddles from Jesus - Parables in the Gospel of Luke." The scripture passage is Luke 12:13-21 (The Rich Fool).

            I come from a family of packrats. What I mean, is that I’m pretty sure my parents still own every piece of furniture, bowl, clothing, spoon, magazine, vinyl record, book, EVERYTHING they have ever bought since they moved to the United States in the 1960s. I’m not kidding either. Mark can testify to the stacks of TIME magazines that line the hallways of my dad’s house and to the massive amount of stuffed animals that occupy my mom’s unused second bathroom, making it impossible for anyone to take a shower. My parents, though they are empty nesters, still live in pretty large houses because of all the stuff they refuse to get rid of.

            Today’s parable is about a man who also had a tendency to store things up. Like our parable last week, it is a story set within a story. The setting this time is amidst a crowd of people who have been following Jesus, listening to all his teachings. In the middle of one of his lessons, a man interrupts Jesus and makes a demand: “Teacher, tell my brother to divide the family inheritance with me.”

The general custom of those times meant that family inheritances, which was almost always land, was given to the father’s sons. This was a way of keeping land in the family and preventing the division of it into smaller and smaller pieces since all the brothers would continue to farm the land together. The fact that this man was asking Jesus to command his brother to divide the family inheritance indicated that things had gone sour between the brothers and that their relationship was broken. The man’s request of Jesus was really a request to finalize the separation between them.

Jesus’ response to the man was curt. The translation says, “Friend,” but really it was more along the lines of this: “Man, who set me to be a judge or divider over you?” Then he gives a warning not only to the man, but to the entire crowd around him. “Take care! Be on your guard against all kinds of greed; for one’s life does not consist in the abundance of possessions.” Instead of answering the man’s request, Jesus gets right to the root cause of the situation—greed.

The dictionary defines greed as an “excessive desire to acquire or possess more than one needs or deserves.” Though it is generally used to describe the lusting after material possessions, greed can take many forms; not just money, but power, status, and influence. Jesus warns the crowd to beware of all kinds of greed. Then he launches into the parable.

“The land of a rich man produced abundantly.” There are two important words to take note of here: land and rich. Land is important because it points out that it is not because of the man’s intelligence, hard work, or any of his own merit that he gets a bumper crop. The land simply produces an abundance of crops and the man is fortunate enough to be the owner of it. The second word, rich, tells us that this man already had more than he needed. This rich man is given even more, so much more that he is presented with a dilemma. So he gets to thinking.

“He thought to himself, ‘What should I do, for I have no place to store my crops?’” It’s a good question, a wise question to ask. But this is where the problems begin for the man. Notice that he did all his thinking on his own. In the traditional Middle Eastern culture of this time, men would often spend their time at the village gate, consulting with one another about their business affairs. Farmers would talk to each other about techniques, certain lands, and where to sell their crops. Being a part of a community was not just for business benefits, however, it also provided accountability for each person and looked out for the overall well-being of society. At the village gate, people learned about who was in need and it was also where farmers could go when they needed some help. The rich man was isolated though, so he had no one to talk to but himself. That also meant he had limited the ability of anyone to ask him the hard questions about what he was doing. In the process of becoming rich, this man had built a wall around not only his wealth but himself as well.

The man has no one to get ideas from but himself, so he comes to his own conclusions. He says, “I will do this: I will pull down my barns and build larger ones, and there I will store all my grain and my goods. And I will say to my soul, ‘Soul, you have ample goods laid up for many years; relax, eat, drink, be merry.’” At first glance, this seems like a fine plan. He does what any smart investor would do in our society. Instead of spending away all his wealth, he decides to store it up so he can sell it maybe during a year when there’s a shortage of crops and he can get a higher price. It makes good business sense. But again, the rich man’s thinking is problematic. He makes the mistake of assuming that everything is his. Listen again to what he says: “I will pull down my barns and build larger ones, there I will store all my grain and my goods. And I will say to my soul, ‘Soul, you have ample goods laid up for many years; relax, eat, drink, be merry.’”

The last statement he makes is especially damning, as he has no one to rejoice with but himself. The rich man seems to have alienated everyone around him to the point where only he can appreciate the surplus of goods he has received. In the process of accumulating all his wealth, he has lost something very important—connection with others. It is at this point when God enters into the story and reveals the true state of affairs for the man. There are four different words for fool used in the New Testament—of the four, the one used here is the strongest. It’s a term which you would reserve for when someone did something exceptionally stupid.

“You fool! This very night your life is being demanded of you. And the things you have prepared, whose will they be?” After calling the man a fool, God goes on to tell him that his time is up. His life, which has been on loan from God, is now being demanded. As the man built up his riches alone, he now will also die alone and who knows what will happen to all the wealth. There are at least two tragedies here: first, that the rich man failed to see how the extra crops could have perhaps been stored in the mouths of hungry people, and second, that in the process of pursuing more riches the rich man had destroyed himself by cutting himself off from others.

Before we are too harsh with the rich man, let me just say that I think his folly is not an uncommon one. Who of us have not wished at some point to win the lottery so we could eat, drink, and be merry the rest of our lives? Or made plans to be a millionaire by the time we’re 35 so we can retire early? How many of us have said that we just needed to make enough money to be stable before we fulfill our good intentions to give our time and money to that charitable cause? In our society, the culture often tells us that the rich or well-off person is more successful, more important, more desirable, maybe even more trustworthy than a poor person. The desire to “just get ahead” is tempting because it gives us a sense of security—but it is a false security. It is a false security because we do not ultimately own anything. All we have, including our lives, belongs to God.

The parable ends at this point, and Jesus concludes his teaching to the crowd by saying, “So it is with those who store up treasures for themselves but are not rich toward God.” Jesus makes it clear that there is no security in storing up for ourselves; instead, we are called to be rich towards God. So what does it mean to be rich towards God? We are left with some questions about how we are living our own lives. What do we really need versus what we want? What are we motivated by and why? Do we have anybody that we are accountable to with how we manage the resources we are given? How are we connected with others in our community?

This last question about how we are connected to others is especially important. We may not think of ourselves as particularly isolated if we have friends that we spend time with in our dorms, classes, or at work. But connection to others does not simply mean connection to people who are like us. The village gate is not simply the people whose Facebook we’ve tagged, or the people who we naturally encounter on a daily basis. The village gate includes the wider community and goes out into the world.

Last Spring Break, a group of folks from Pres House went down to Gulfport, Mississippi to help with the Hurricane Katrina relief efforts. They spent the week hauling trash, putting up drywall, tiling, and most importantly, getting to know the people who lived down there and who had been affected. I think that if you ask any of the team who went, building relationships with the men and women who had been devastated by the hurricane changed their perspectives on their own lives—what they took for granted, the blessings they had, and how they could use what God had given them to help others. Connecting with the people in Mississippi helped them understand the importance of being aware of their own gifts and of being aware of the needs of others, whether down south, overseas, or here in Madison.

Going on a mission trip is helpful for expanding our worldview, but we don’t always have to travel hundreds of miles to broaden our perspectives. How would we be influenced if we got to know the homeless person who often sits on State St.? What might we think about our own lifestyles if we spent time with a person earning minimum wage who is trying to support a family of four? If we had relationships with the “have-nots” in our society—those who are hungry, poor, in prison, whose day to day existence is a struggle—how would that affect our attitudes towards the laws and policies which directly impact them? These people are in our community, right here on campus and around Madison. By intentionally connecting with people who are in difficult circumstances, we can begin to see how what we have been given—whether that’s money, knowledge, skills, time, or other talents—can be used.

The rich man was disconnected with the rest of his community and thus unaware of any needs in his village because he had isolated himself from everyone. His primary concern was securing a comfortable lifestyle so he could buy the things he wanted and enjoy himself.  He did not spend time at the village gate interacting with those who were in need, and so he was blissfully ignorant until his reckoning with God. And at that time, God called him a fool. A fool for focusing all his energies on accumulating wealth. A fool for thinking he could possess anything as his own, including his very own life. A fool for not knowing and being known in his community, so that he was not accountable to anyone.  Ultimately he died alone.

I said in the beginning that this parable was about riches and relationships. The opportunity for us is to avoid the mistakes that the rich fool made. It invites us to think hard about what material things we accumulate and why we pursue them. It invites us to put an extra effort into connecting with people who we normally wouldn’t. And it invites us to open ourselves up to being challenged by others about how we are using the gifts God has given to us. We are left to ponder the question, what has the land given to us and where can we store it?

This is the first sermon in the series, "Riddles from Jesus - Parables in the Gospel of Luke." The scripture passage is Luke 7:36-50 (The Two Debtors).

It is the beginning of a new school year! Hopefully you have gotten moved in if you had to do that and are settled enough to begin classes on Tuesday. This is a fun, exciting, possibly nervous time of year as new things begin.

It is also the beginning of a new series of scripture and preaching here at Pres House. For the next 7 weeks we are going to be looking at what we are calling the Riddles from Jesus. We are going to be looking at the parables Jesus tells in the gospel of Luke. Luke is the third book in the Christian New Testament. It is one of the synoptic gospels, meaning it shares a lot with Matthew and Mark. There is a great deal that can be said about Luke but for our purposes we are going to focus on the parables found in the book.

So what is a parable? Luke is filled with these little stories Jesus tells to various people as he wanders around the countryside. We often call these little stories parables. Jesus is the only person in the New Testament to speak in parables – and he does so a lot. A parable is an imaginative story, one that is made up. But also one that could have actually happened. It is tempting to view parables as illustrations. Stories that illustrates some point that Jesus wants to make. Perhaps they function in that way to some extent. But they are much more than simply an illustration. They are actually a kind of religious experience. Parables press the listener to act. Jesus doesn’t simply tell parables to his disciples, religious leaders and crowds of followers for them to go home at night and say to their friends – hmm, this guy told a great story today that made me think...No – parables point to action.

In this series we will be looking at a variety of parables in Luke. They occur in all kinds of different places. Often they occur as sort of a play within a play. Luke writes a narrative story about something Jesus is doing and then the parable appears in the middle of it. A story within a story. This is the kind of parable our passage contains today. At other times a parable is found in the middle of some kind of teaching Jesus is doing or as a stand alone passage. In all cases we are faced with a significant challenge. How do we understand a parable told by a Jewish carpenter 2000 years ago to fishermen, farmers and other followers who lived a life that is so utterly different than ours? After all Jesus told parables using a complex and well understood set of cultural assumptions – almost of all of which we don’t share as 21^st century folks living in America. It is very difficult for us to not read our own cultural understandings into the parables. We easily assume we understand them based on our cultural view of symbols, events or images. To some extent we cannot avoid this reality and shouldn’t let it stop us from reading them. But we can try to expand the value of the parables by seeking to understand what the culture of the time might have looked like and how that informs the meaning of Jesus’ words. Erica and I are not experts in this at all but we will try to draw on some resources from people who know more than us about these things and share that with you. In the end we trust that God will speak to us through scripture that is living and breathing and that has something to say to us today.
With that background let us now listen to a play within a play – Luke 7:36-50.

So. There is a lot of detail in this passage. It is a full story with many interesting tidbits worth looking at and talking about. But today I want to do something different. I want to look at what is left out of the story. What is unknown. What is not said or not done. Often in life the things that don’t happen are just as meaningful as the things that do happen. Like when you call someone you want to hang out with and they don’t call you back. Especially if that someone is a person you are attracted to or you are interested in dating... Why didn’t they call you back? Did they have a horrible accident? Are they avoiding you? Are they flaky? Did their phone battery die? Do they hate you? Are they just an inconsiderate person? Do they have a big exam? Did they meet the person of their dreams and run off to the Caribbean with him or her? What? The unknown is intense. Maybe even more intense than what you do know. The same is true in this story. The unknown is extremely provocative. It forces us to ask questions and make some guesses and ultimately leaves us with a call to action ourselves. So let’s look at this story through the view of what is not told and what doesn’t happen.

A Pharisee invites Jesus to join him for a banquet at his house. Pharisees were a group of devout Jews who strove to interpret the religious law and follow it with exact precision. They took their faith very seriously. This Pharisee invites Jesus to dinner at his house. Why? We don’t know. Already there is information missing from the story. Perhaps he has heard Jesus preaching and wants to honor him as his guest. Perhaps he wants to meet the man that so many are talking about. It is likely that he was interested in having a lively debate with Jesus and other guests over dinner – a common occurrence called a symposium that took place in peoples homes. The fact that the Pharisee invites Jesus to eat with him suggests that he respects Jesus at least to some extent. Pharisees didn’t eat with just anyone – they kept strict purity regulations regarding food and meals. In any case Jesus agrees and joins this yet unnamed Pharisee at his house.

Guests are reclining around a low U-shaped table. Like the other guests Jesus is lying back on his left side with his legs stretched out behind the person to his right to keep his unclean feet away from the table and out of his neighbors face. Suddenly there is a woman at Jesus’ feet with an alabaster jar of ointment. And here there are a lot of unknowns. A lot that is unsaid. What is her name? How did she hear about Jesus? Why does she have an alabaster jar of ointment? Why doesn’t she say anything throughout the entire episode? She is described as a sinner but what does that mean? What kind of sin has she committed? And why does she suddenly fall on Jesus and proceed to engage in scandalous, erotic and extravagant acts of love in a room full of people?

Tradition interprets this woman as a prostitute from the town. She is probably poor and has no choice but to sell herself in order to survive. In the eyes of the religious leaders she is a nameless sinner defiling the laws of God on a routine basis. The Pharisee probably knows who she is – but doesn’t actually know her. She is a most unwelcome guest at this party. The door to the house is open and there is a great deal of commotion and activity so she can easily slip in, but the presence of a sinful woman is very problematic for the Pharisee. Even being around someone who is “unclean” can make a law-abiding person also unclean. Then it gets worse.

This woman, this sinner, decends on Jesus and goes nuts. She wets his feet with her tears. Why is she crying? Another unknown in the story. Is it out of repentance? Joy? Love? It is not clear but it does appear to be an act of devotion of some kind. After washing his feet with her tears she lets down her hair and begins to dry his feet with it. This is scandalous beyond all reason. A woman could be divorced by her husband for letting down her hair outside the privacy of their home and in the presence of another man. And here she is, a prostitute, almost fondling the feet of someone who is supposed to be a teacher and prophet. And on it goes. Now she adds kissing to the mix. In that context kissing someone’s dirty feet, even if you have just cleaned them with your tears and hair, is an act of serious submission and reverence. It is also  very intimate. And the grand finale comes when she opens the alabaster jar of expensive ointment or perfume and pours it on Jesus’ feet. She might have been pouring her most valuable possession – perfume used to make her smell good to her customers - on Jesus’ dusty and dirty feet.

At this point in the story someone familiar with local customs would probably be shocked on two accounts. First, this woman’s action is extravagant beyond description. Instead of using water to wash Jesus feet she uses her tears. She dries them with her hair instead of a towel. She kisses his feet rather than his hands. She wastes precious perfume anointing his feet rather than using cheap olive oil on his head. But what is even more shocking than this is that an unclean woman has offered hospitality instead of the host of the banquet– the Pharisee.

When I was a kid my dad used to have an annual Christmas party for people he worked with at his company. It was a big production, sometimes for almost 100 people. My parents bought drinks, prepared food, decorated the house – the whole deal. And my younger sister and I became their little helpers. Our job was to be at the door with my parents when each guest arrived, smile nicely, and offer to take their coat. Then we ran upstairs to put the coats on the bed in one of the rooms. It was a simple system. But a pretty important one. I can’t imagine what would have happened if guests were invited to my parents party and then when they arrived they had to open the door to the house themselves. And what if they walked in and no one was ther to say, “Hello, nice to see, did you find the place okay? It sure is cold outside.” Or something like that. And no one took their coat, offered them a drink and introduced them to the rest of the party. My guess is that if none of that took place at his parties my dad wouldn’t have enjoyed working at that company much longer.

Such a rude scene is what it would have been like for Jesus at the Pharisee’s house. The host should have welcomed his guest by washing his feet and giving him a kiss of greeting at a minimum. None of those things happened. The Pharisee failed to act. Something important and expected did not occur. So instead of the normal greeting by his host, Jesus is lavished upon by a sinful woman. A prostitute makes the Pharisee look like a fool. She makes up for his poor welcome with extravagant attention.

The Pharisees response to this scene is not to rectify his social error but to question the impropriety of the woman’s interaction with Jesus. But he doesn’t say this aloud. His questioning remains inside his head and is not verbalized. His guest, Jesus, has been called a prophet but the Pharisee sees no evidence of this. Jesus is letting an unclean woman touch him – an act no holy man could tolerate. So the Pharisee must assume that he doesn’t know who she is otherwise he wouldn’t let this go on. The Pharisee thinks he understands the situation, that he knows Jesus and knows the woman. But he is wrong on all counts. Jesus demonstrates this by reading the Pharisee’s mind and launching into the parable. He addresses the Pharisee by name in a personal way by starting out..."Simon, I have something to say to you." "Teacher," Simon replies, "Speak." And here comes the parable. ⁴¹ "A certain creditor had two debtors; one owed five hundred denarii, and the other fifty.  ⁴² When they could not pay, he canceled the debts for both of them. Now which of them will love him more?" 
A simple, short parable. There isn’t a lot of confusion about what Jesus is describing here. Simon reluctantly answers, "I suppose the one for whom he canceled the greater debt."

Then Jesus launches into a rebuke of his host. This is the message I hear when I read Jesus’ words. “Simon, you didn’t even offer me basic hospitality when I came into your house. You left me hanging. This woman, a woman who is a nameless sinner to you, bested you in your own home. She offered me sincere love and devotion. And do you know why? Because her sins have been forgiven. Her debt has been canceled. And she has realized this. She loves me extravagantly because I have forgiven her extravagantly. She has no pretense that she is perfect. She knows that she has debt. A lot of it. And she is overjoyed that her debt has been cancelled. She knows she doesn’t have it all together and she loves me greatly because I have loved her”

Then Jesus says these words to the woman for the benefit of all present: “Your sins are forgiven.” Here we are faced with one of the biggest unknowns of the passage. When did the woman actually receive forgiveness? It isn’t here when Jesus says, “Your sins are forgiven.” That is clear because her act of devotion occurs as a result of the fact that she is ALREADY forgiven. She is not forgiven because she pours ointment on Jesus’ feet. It is the other way around. She pours out the ointment because she has been forgiven. Perhaps it is significant that we don’t know the detail of when or how it happened. Nor do the people present at the dinner.
Because it is none of their business! It is between her and God. It is not important for Simon and the others to know when or how the forgiveness took place exactly. What is important is that they know that she IS forgiven. She is a fellow debtor along with everyone else present. She is just as deserving of a place at the table and of being in Jesus’ presence as the most holy of Pharisees. Because there are two debtors in the parable. Not one debtor and one free from debt. Both are sinners. One might be deeper in the red than the other but both carry debt. And in the end both have their debt cancelled equally. After they are forgiven they stand at the very same place before the creditor – free from debt. Free from sin.

Simon was wrong about the woman. He thought he knew her. He saw her as an unclean sinner – not as a fellow debtor made clean by Jesus. He saw her as an undesirable person, not someone to share his table and visit with his guest. He was wrong about Jesus too. He thought that Jesus didn’t know what was going on when in fact Jesus knew exactly what was happening. Simon’s mistake is honest – his misunderstanding was a result of sincere religious devotion. It was just incomplete and short-sighted.

So does he now welcome the woman to join them at the table? Does he apologize to her and to Jesus for his misconceptions about them both? Does he invite them both to the next dinner party and offer them proper hospitality? We don’t know. The story ends here. We are left with the most profound of the unknowns in this passage: What happens next? Where does the story go from here?

We are left with what I call an “opportunity of the unknown.” As I said at the beginning today, parables are not just little illustrations to make us think about something. They force the listener to respond. The final unknown in this story does the same to us. It begs action from us. It pushes us to pick it up from here and go on. To take the next step. We are faced with an opportunity of the unknown. It can go anywhere from here. What are we going to do? Are we going to welcome the woman to the table? Are we going to recognize the forgiven debtor in our midst? The debtor that is our very selves and the debtor that is the other around us.

Each of us is a forgiven debtor. That is a joy that should lead us to let down our hair and weep before Jesus in love and thanksgiving. Each of us is a forgiven debtor. That means that the person next to you, across from you, in front of you is welcomed by Jesus to the table. To your table. Can you see that in the people in your life? Can you welcome them also? What a different story this would have been if Simon had embraced Jesus at the door, washed his feet, kissed his hands and welcomed him in with joy and devotion. And then made a special place at the table for the woman – not the unclean sinner, but a fellow forgiven debtor. What a feast they might have had! That is what I hope our community at Pres House will be. A place where we can come as we are. Not already perfect. Not without sin. But as we really are – sinners who have been forgiven equally by Jesus Christ. All on the same level. All with debts that have been cancelled. All with much to be thankful for. Offering our love to the one who has forgiven us and our welcome to our fellow forgiven debtors. As the story ends with an unknown let us take it up from here and make this hope real in our lives and in this community.

This sermon from May 7th was the last in a series Water and Story of God. We read Revelation 21:1-6 and 22:1-5.

At the beginning of the message I asked the community to stand up if they had experienced any of the following:

a. if you’ve lost someone close to you or been near to death?
b. if you have experienced major disappointment in your life this year?
c. if you have been affected by divorced or the end of a special relationship?
d. if you did something you regret this week? Hurt someone you love? Made a stupid mistake? Or sucked at something?
e. if you know someone who has been sexually, physically or emotionally abused?
f. if you watch the news or read the paper and hear about starvation, human trafficking, war, illness, AIDS...
g. if you have seen destruction or disaster first hand?

By the end everyone was standing. Then we talked about what words describe our world in light of the list. Here are my thoughts...

There is a lot of joy and love in our world. Both in our lives and in the world around us. As I was driving in to Pres House today I went by James Madison park and saw students and families out enjoying this beautiful sunny day. All is not terrible. But the word that comes to my mind when I think about the state of our world is BROKEN. We are broken people, living broken lives, in broken relationships, in a broken world. 

When Erica and I were in college we spent a summer living in the inner city of Atlanta doing day camps with kids. The neighborhood we lived in with our fellow interns was called Little Vietnam because it was so violent. The house the guys lived in was a former crack dealers house. Evenings were spent listening to gunfire and battling huge cockroaches. In the middle of the summer there was a car-jacking at the gas station on the corner near our house. A car-jacking that went sour and ended up in the death of a young man. He wouldn’t give up his car and so he was killed. That young man was the brother of one of the five kids in the small groups of 5^th grade boys I was mentoring.

But the worst part of the summer wasn’t the violence in Little Vietnam. It was violence that took place on the other side of the country but that hit much closer to home. One day Erica got a call to tell her that friend of hers named Ken had been shot and killed. He was the same year as us at the University of California in Berkeley. Ken and his girlfriend had a housewarming party in their new apartment one evening. Later that night they got into a fight. She left the apartment to get some space. He went to his car in the parking garage to follow her. When he was getting into his car three people pointed a gun at him and forced him into the trunk. They drove to an ATM and made him take money out from his account. Then they drove him to an ally, put the gun to the back of his head, and shot him. His killers were young – in their early twenties. Ken’s friends, Erica’s friends also, who were at the party filed a missing person report when he disappeared. And a few days later they had to go identify his body. Even now when I think about it I am overcome with the fear he must have felt stuffed in the trunk of his own car. And then when they told him to turn around just before they killed him.

We live in a broken world. I would use a much stronger word to describe it if it wasn’t unbecoming of a pastor. We live in a broken, (insert your expletive of choice), world.

This is the last Sunday in our series on water. We have been tracing the story of God through biblical passages that contain water. We have traced God’s creation of the world, God’s judgment on our sin, our redemption through Jesus Christ and last week we talked about how we are called to submit to one another as servants by washing each others feet – both literally and metaphorically. So why then is the world in such bad shape? If we have been redeemed and are called to serve each other why the hell hasn’t it worked? Why hasn’t it made the world a better place? Something seems wrong with the picture.

Thank God for the book of Revelation! The book of Revelation is a difficult one to read. It is very difficult to understand and as such is not often discussed or preached on in church. But when I am faced with the stark reality of our world I am drawn to Revelation. Because although it is also full of darkness, destruction and war – in the end it contains a glimpse of the hope for rebirth, redemption and renewal that is fundamental to the gospel of Jesus Christ.

The book opens with the words, “The revelation of Jesus Christ...” Or literally, the apocalypse of Jesus Christ. The book of Revelation falls within a certain genre of literature – apocalyptic literature. Apocalyptic literature has very distinctive features. It involves visions that are symbolic images of something coming in the future. Apocalyptic literature unveils a reality behind what we see and know. It describes the true world that lies behind appearances. The irony of course, is that it is actually the most veiled, difficult to understand literature in the Bible. At least for modern readers like us.

I might disappoint you today, but I am not going to try and unravel much symbolism or explain what the images in the book refer to in life today. I am not going to tell you when the end of the world is coming or what it will look like. And I am not going to name a famous figure as the anti-christ. I don’t believe that does justice to the text or the kind of literature that this is. Instead I am going to talk about a glimpse of something beyond the world that we know. A glimpse, however shadowy or unclear, into God’s true intention for our world.

Interestingly – the form of the literature – veiled descriptions that point to some deeper meaning – parallels the message of the book. A message that God has something more in mind than what we see. What we see and live is a veiled image of what is to come. It is a shadow of God’s plan to create a new heaven and a new earth.

Chapter 21, verse 1. “Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth...” The author, John, sitting in prison on the island of Patmos describes the final act in his vision. This is the climax of the book. And it is beautiful. Out of heaven – out of the place that contains the true world – comes a new Jerusalem. A new city with an old name. Something recreated – not at the total expense of what already exists but nonetheless something new. And in this new city there is no more crying, no mourning, no death and no pain. Instead there is the water of life. A river of life flowing from the throne of God, a river as bright as crystal! And along the banks of this river are trees of life whose leaves provide healing. Healing for the brokeness of the old world. In the end the flood waters that destroyed the earth in the story of Noah are replaced with crystal waters of healing. Water which can kill thousands in tsunamis, and flood cities in hurricanes is now used by the God who created it, to bring healing. What a spectacular vision. And God comes face to face with God’s people, God’s children. The divide between heaven and earth disappears and the two become one. Not even Moses saw the face of God – in the new Jerusalem, we will all be face to face with God! God comes to make a home among us. For good. Forever. A spectacular vision!

Does the image in Revelation of streams of water with trees of life sounds a lot like the images in the story of the Garden of Eden, in the book of Genesis, the first book of the bible. Of what the world was like before human beings sinned. Before brokeness entered the world and took root. We have come full circle. As God speaks from the throne in this passage – “It is done! I am the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end.” We have come full circle. This new world described in John’s vision is a re-creation of what the world has always been meant to be. It is what God has had in mind from the beginning. In this image God is bringing to completion something that was started at creation, continued in the flood, took on new meaning with Jesus’ life, death and resurrection and is lived out in foot washing.

That last mention is important – that God’s desire for us is lived out in foot washing. What I mean by that is that this image of new heavens and a new earth is not soley limited to the future. It is not just something for us to look forward to. Yes, it describes in very metaphorical illusions the end of time – what ultimately happens to our world. But it also describes something that we participate in on a daily basis. When the new Jerusalem comes down from heaven it won’t be the first time God has come to make a home among us. God did so in the person of Jesus Christ. God inhabited the very body of a human being and dwelt – lived – among us. The recreation of our world has already begun. And we are challenged to participate in it. 

We didn’t read the specific description of the new Jerusalem which falls between the two passages we did read today. It is a detailed description. One of the details is that the names of the twelve apostles and the twelve tribes of Israel are inscribed on the foundations and the gates of the city. God’s people participate in building the city. God’s people participate in the recreation of our world – we don’t make it happen, but we can make it a little more real each day.

Revelation is not a number of things – it is not literal description of what will happen at the end of time. It is not a horror story meant to scare us into believing in God. It is also not a nice, soft story about everything working out in the end. It IS, however, a message of ultimate hope. That God is re-making our world and will carry it out completely at the end of time. And it IS a message of challenge for us to join in that work in our lives each day.

So here we are at the end. The end of our series on water. The end of this very brief perusal of the story of God. The end of the Bible in this final book – Revelation. And of course the end of the semester. For some of us nothing really changes in the next week. Maybe it will get a little easier to park near campus but we will keep working our jobs and going through our daily life. For others though this coming week is a point of transition. You might be going home after finals. Or starting a summer job. For a few of you this is the end of your degree. Or maybe even the end of your academic career. One member of the community, Steve, has already left us to transfer to a different school. So we are at the end of something. 

But it is also the beginning of something new. No, graduation is not going to bring about the end of time and the arrival of a new Jerusalem – although that would be amazing and it might feel a little like that to those of you who are finishing! Its not that monumental but it is the beginning of something new. A new job perhaps, a new school, a new place to live. New friends, new things to learn, new stuff to do. It comes full circle. On the first Sunday we met for worship in the fall we talked about new beginnings. And here I am at the end of the academic year talking about new beginnings again.

After we celebrate communion Erica will lead us in a time of prayer for those who are reaching the end of their time here at UW. Some of you will be around during the summer but it is an appropriate moment to reflect on your transition. We will continue worship next week but it is good to pause and mark time today. So I would like to share my prayer for you who are starting something new and for all of us in light of Revelation. I pray that you experience the fullness of hope described in this passage. That you can capture a glimmer of the vast love of God - a love that will wipe away every tear from your eyes. And I pray that as you start something new you will rise to the call to participate in God’s work in the world. That you don’t simply sit back and wait for a new world to show up but that you step out and watch for ways to join God in bringing it a little bit closer.

This sermon (given on 4/23/06) was a part of the Pres House worship series, "Water and the Story of God." The scripture passage is John 4:1-26.

As I was studying this passage and really contemplating on it, I found myself imagining what the Samaritan woman might have been thinking during this interaction with Jesus. What we have in the scripture is pretty much the words of the conversation, but I’ve taken the liberty of fleshing out the story with details that I envisioned when reading it. So let’s start from the beginning and hear parts of the story again from another perspective—I’ll mainly be expanding upon the woman’s thoughts as she talked to the stranger she did not know.
          “It was about noon. A Samaritan woman came to draw water from Jacob’s well.”  It may not seem like a significant detail, but it gives us a lot of insight into this woman’s situation. Living in an arid region, she had to come everyday to get the water she needed for daily survival. In fact, all the other villagers had to do the same but they came in the morning before the scorching heat of the sun made a difficult job even more wearing. The fact that she was coming at noon indicated that she didn’t want to be seen, or to have to interact with any of her neighbors. So imagine her dismay when not only did she find a person sitting at the well, but a stranger. As she came closer though, she realized that the person was a man and a Jew, both of which were reasons that she would not have to speak to him. The customs of the time dictated that Jews and Samaritans had nothing to do with each other. So she was startled when the man looked her in the eye as she was approaching and started to address her.
          “Give me a drink.” The woman probably did a double-take. Did that Jewish man just ask her for a drink of water? Did he not understand the great chasm, the huge dividing line that was between them? Clearly she was a Samaritan since they were in the town of Sychar in the region of Samaria. Everyone knew that Jews and Samaritans had very different worldviews on God, politics, and everything in between. This was more than a polite difference of opinion—their vilification of each other had become so extreme that Jews refused to share a meal or anything for that matter with a Samaritan.
          Yet here was this man, ignoring all the rules about social custom and appropriate behavior, demanding a drink. Not only was he offending Samaritan sensibilities, but undoubtedly his own people would be shocked that he was 1) talking to a Samaritan, 2) not only a Samaritan, but a Samaritan woman, and 3) asking for a drink from her bucket. The crossing of all these boundaries was unthinkable, like trying to leap from one wall of the Grand Canyon to the other. And, he was commanding her to do something—the nerve of this man! She was so stunned that she blurted out the first thing that came to her mind.
          "How is it that you, a Jew, ask a drink of me, a woman of Samaria?" In other words, what the heck are you doing?! Didn’t you happen to notice how many of our ancestors probably rolled over in their graves because of what you just did? The woman must have been wondering why he was talking to her and telling her what to do. They had nothing in common and she didn’t care to take his commands. She stood there with her bucket in her hand, half waiting for him to answer and half too bewildered to move.
          "If you knew the gift of God, and who it is that is saying to you, 'Give me a drink,' you would have asked him, and he would have given you living water."  The woman thought, Wow, who does this guy think he is? First he asked her for water against all better judgment, now he was telling her how she should be acting and what she really needed. Plus he was talking in third person, like he was God or something. She should have simply ignored his statement, done her business, and quickly gone her way. Even though he had addressed her, she knew that if someone came upon them the blame would be upon her for this gross indiscretion. But against her better judgment, she continued the conversation with the man because of her curiosity and astonishment at his bold behavior. Besides, she was feeling pretty cynical about his statement.
"Sir, you have no bucket, and the well is deep. Where do you get that living water?  ¹² Are you greater than our ancestor Jacob, who gave us the well, and with his sons and his flocks drank from it?"  The deeper question that the woman was asking was, “Why should I believe you and why should I want what you’re offering?” It was a good point. The man responded to her.
"Everyone who drinks of this water will be thirsty again,  ¹⁴ but those who drink of the water that I will give them will never be thirsty. The water that I will give will become in them a spring of water gushing up to eternal life."  Well, at least he was back to speaking in first person again. His behavior was beyond offensive at this point—she was starting to wonder if he were a bit crazy.  She wasn’t exactly sure what he meant about this living water, but it sounded like a good idea. Never being thirsty, eternal life, those seemed like things worth having. She was intertested enough by this point to follow his lead in the conversation. So she said what naturally came next.
"Sir, give me this water, so that I may never be thirsty or have to keep coming here to draw water." What did she have to lose? Maybe she should just try out what this guy was offering and see where it led her. It’s not like what she was doing was very satisfying anyway, so why not? But then he decided to change subjects.
"Go, call your husband, and come back." The woman answered him, "I have no husband." Jesus said to her, "You are right in saying, 'I have no husband';  ¹⁸ for you have had five husbands, and the one you have now is not your husband. What you have said is true!" It suddenly became very clear that this man was not just trying to sell her a better, bottled water to drink. He was reaching into the most private part of her life that brought her shame and pulling it into the light for both of them to see and talk about. It was painful. Having five, unsuccessful marriages in her past and having an affair right now with a man who was married to another woman was absolutely dishonorable and humiliating. A woman’s well being and respectable status depended upon being married to a man in those times. For some reason or another, men kept rejecting her and it is obvious now why she went to the well at noon—her disgraceful standing in society was something she’d rather not be a public matter.
But here was this person, confronting her on a very personal level and on a sore spot. By simply telling her that he knew of these deep and secret places in her life, he was also challenging her to live differently. She could hear that in the tone of his voice. It wasn’t that she wanted to be a promiscuous woman, but this was a part of her life that she could not change and besides that, she didn’t want to talk about it. So she changed the subject.
"Sir, I see that you are a prophet.  ²⁰ Our ancestors worshiped on this mountain, but you say that the place where people must worship is in Jerusalem." The woman deflected the uncomfortable topic of how she lived into a question about scripture and theology. Instead of talking about the personal implications of believing in what this guy was saying, she raised faith-related issues that were important, but tangential to her. It was a good tactic, one that even convinced herself into thinking that she was still being religious because she was talking about faith matters. “What about that worship, do we do it here or in Jerusalem? Let’s talk about that doctrine.” The man responded to her.
"Woman, believe me, the hour is coming when you will worship the Father neither on this mountain nor in Jerusalem.  ²² You worship what you do not know; we worship what we know, for salvation is from the Jews.  ²³ But the hour is coming, and is now here, when the true worshipers will worship the Father in spirit and truth, for the Father seeks such as these to worship him.  ²⁴ God is spirit, and those who worship him must worship in spirit and truth." He answered her question, but not in the way she was expecting. He basically told her that where she worshipped, whether on this mountain or in Jerusalem, was a moot point. He redirected her attention, hinting that there was a bigger issue to consider. And she caught his hint so she let him know.
"I know that Messiah is coming. When he comes, he will proclaim all things to us."  She knew the scriptures and what it said about God. She had gone to synagogue as a child, heard all the stories, been told about the great day when the Messiah would come. It was all just a part of the air she breathed, the culture she grew up in. Yeah, yeah, the Messiah is coming. Tell me something I don’t already know. And he did.
"I am he, the one who is speaking to you."  Suddenly the woman was face to face with Jesus, in a very intimate and personal way. There he was, saying to her, “Here I am. Look at me, I am God, and I am here with you. I see who you are, into the depths of your soul, and I know what you need—living water. Take, drink, and never be thirsty again.”
                                                * * *
     Thus ends the reading of Erica’s account of the woman at the well! If I were to rename this story I would call it, “A Journey into a Personal Relationship with Jesus.” I found in this scripture passage a condensed version of my own spiritual journey, all taking place in a conversation that probably took less than five minutes. I think that for many of us we might be able to identify with at least one of the different stages this woman went through in her intense interaction with Jesus.
     First there was a great chasm and divide between the woman and God. Jesus represented everything that she was not—a man, Jewish, and of course God though she did not realize it. For myself, I know that there was certainly a time in my life where I felt faith in Jesus was not for me and I didn’t really want any association with it.
     But then Jesus approached her, and with some skepticism she asked what he had that she should be interested in. It was an encounter that opened her up to at least asking questions. Some of us may identify with her. Curious enough to explore what it means to believe in Jesus, we ask questions and tentatively follow his lead.
     Suddenly, however, the woman found out that following Jesus meant that no part of her life was exempt from his interest. It was a surprise to realize that he knew her so intimately and actually made her quite uncomfortable. It meant that he expected her to change in deep ways, and even though she kind of wanted to change, it was something she would rather not talk about. I have experienced being confronted by God about those parts I’d rather keep hidden or not change—and it’s painful. To admit I have deep-seated prejudice, that I would rather live comfortably than faithfully, that I have things which are shameful that I don’t want others to know about.  Maybe you can think of some things too.
     And so we change the subject—like the woman, we start focusing on abstract questions about theology, faith, and scripture. We might ask about the Trinity, and say it makes no sense, this three in one, one in three jargon, what am I supposed to believe about that? And though those questions are important, our motive in asking is to ignore the reality that following God means that we have to change.

     But somewhere along the way, as we claim to be hunting for God and trying to understand God, Jesus gets right in our face and says, “I am he, the one who is speaking to you. Here I am!” It is an invitation to stop hiding behind all our religiosities and questions, and to simply enter into a personal relationship with Jesus. He is not a doctrine, a theology, or a scripture passage; not simply an ethical way to live or understand the world.  He is a living God who chooses to interact with us personally and deeply. And it means that we will be changed by that relationship.

This sermon was delivered at First Presbyterian, Waunakee on April 23rd, 2006. It followed a presentation by students on the Pres House Spring Break 2006 Trip to Gulfport, Mississippi. It is based on Matthew 14:22-33.

Our team of 11 was changed by our trip to the gulf-coast. Hurricane Katrina left enormous devastation in its wake. A devastation that is difficult to imagine until it is seen first hand. Katrina was a powerful storm. A storm that destroyed property, homes, and lives.

In Mississippi our team asked a significant question. One you might have asked at some time in your life. Did God make the hurricane happen? Or, did God allow it to happen? When 7 people died in one of neighborhoods we worked in – what was God’s role? Now that people are out of work because their companies no longer have facilities, when insurance doesn’t cover major repair costs, when people have lost everything...what role did God play? We talked at length about this – and didn’t come up with an answer. And I don’t have an answer to the question today either. I don’t know what role God played in making or allowing the event of hurricane Katrina. Maybe there was some reason for it. Maybe it just happened. I don’t know.

This is a question that you might have asked yourself during the storms of your own life. For there are storms raging in our lives.  We have each experienced the waves and wind of personal storms.  Life is complicated. Bad things happen. Work is hard. Relationships go sour. Money is tight. You name it. We make mistakes. Others make mistakes. We lose loved ones. Does God cause these storms? Or let them happen for some reason? Why doesn’t God protect us from the rocky seas and raging wind? I am sorry but I cannot give you an answer. I simply don’t know.

But what I AM confident of is that God was and is present during our storms. God was present in both the days of the hurricane and continues to be present in the storm of rebuilding and recovery. One which will carry on for many months and years ahead. We witnessed God’s presence in Mississippi and I see it in our scripture passage today from Matthew. As the Bible often does, it converged with life in a powerful way to teach a group of UW students and one of their pastors an important message – and here I am sharing that message with you.

In our passage from Matthew, the disciples find themselves in the midst of a storm. They were out in a boat on the sea surrounded by high waves and strong winds.  Their boat was buffeted from all sides. It wasn’t hurricane Katrina but it was scary. And there are three things that I observe in this story which I observed in Mississippi about God’s involvement in that storm. First, Jesus meets people in the storm. Second, Jesus calls them out to do miraculous things in the middle of their distress. And third, we are changed by our encounter with Christ during the storms of our lives.

As the wind and waves buffet their boat the disciples see a figure walking towards them in the distance.  They are afraid, thinking that this apparition walking on the water is a ghost.  At first they are not aware that they are encountering Jesus himself.  Then Jesus does some calming. But the interesting thing is that he doesn’t calm the waves and the wind. Instead he calms the disciples, by announcing his presence. Later we see that he does stop the storm, so we know he has the power to do so, but at first he lets it continue.  Jesus meets the disciples in the storm – he doesn’t stop it immediately but shows up in it with them.

I believe God in Jesus Christ is present on the Gulf coast. Linda Bates, the assistant director of recovery for the Presbytery of Mississippi, told us a story about God’s presence in the lives of one particular couple in the Gulfport area. A team of volunteers, much like ours, went to the house of an elderly couple. There they did various work on the home probably clearing debris, and such. During the course of their work the group began talking with the couple. They found out the couple had been very depressed after the hurricane and their depression had gotten to the point that they began planning to commit suicide together. In fact, they had planned to kill themselves the very next day – until the group of volunteers showed up and started to help them with their house and thus their lives. After the group went back to the church they told this story to the staff who were puzzled by it. So they checked the address. It was incorrect. The group had been given an address but for some reason ended up at the wrong house. Of course in this story - it was the right house. They saved this couple by showing up. By providing some hope. They were the presence of God in the midst of a horrific storm. It was miraculous.

That miraculous power is the second thing I see in Matthew and in Mississippi. Jesus calls people out and empowers them to do the miraculous. That is what happens to Peter. Jesus doesn’t calm the storm before he calls Peter to step out of the safety of the boat and onto the water. He empowers Peter to walk on water IN THE MIDDLE OF THE STORM! Not when it is all calm and things are perfect. Not when Peter is “ready” or at his emotional, physical and spiritual peak. No - Jesus calls him to do something miraculous under far from perfect conditions. Our team experienced this in Mississippi also. There were 80 people staying a very small church. The staff on site were so overwhelmed and tired from months of this work that they provided very little help or direction for us. But we did some miraculous things. Nothing like walking on water but miraculous nonetheless.

On our first day of work we split into two groups. One group went to a house to insulate and drywall a room that was damaged when a tree hit it in the storm. The challenge was that we didn’t have much guidance as to actually hang drywall. But over the course of four days of work our team put in new drywall in two ceilings, a full room, and part of a bathroom. I know professionals could have done all of that in one day – but I think it was pretty miraculous for our group. And we did it in less than ideal conditions. With almost no guidance, little sleep, deficient tools, allergies and lots of dust. But God isn’t waiting for things to settle down on the gulf coast before calling people to do miraculous things. God is calling us to action right now.

A few days after we returned from Mississippi I got an e-mail message from Jonathan. He had been in touch with the site manager in Gulfport to ask how his tiling job had gone. That was a miraculous event in itself – Jonathan and Emma tiled almost an entire living room and dining room in one day, our last day! But what was even more amazing was that the owner of the house, an elderly woman named Mary, finished the job Jonathan had started all by herself within a couple of days of us leaving. Jonathan’s work got her going and gave her the impetus to finish the job....God is calling everyone out of their boats and onto the water.

The third thing I have observed in Matthew and in Mississippi is this: people are changed by the storms in life. That sounds pretty obvious but it is also vitally important. In many ways the changes are negative, serious, and irrevocable. There is no doubt about that. One person we met commented that even though he didn’t loose anything physical – his house, car, etc. – the hurricane still ruined his life. The people living there will be forever changed by that storm. 

BUT the message of our trip, of the passage from Matthew and the statement on the t-shirts we each received is: “Out of Chaos, Hope.” We have hope that some of the change can be positive. The disciples were changed by their encounter with Christ in the storm. When they first saw him walking towards them on the water they were afraid. They thought he was a ghost. They didn’t know him as Christ. But after meeting him in the storm and witnessing the miracle of Peter walking on water while the wind roared – after all of that - they saw Jesus in a new light. They saw Jesus reach out his hand and take hold of Peter when he began to sink. And by the grace of God they sat back and exclaimed in joy, “Surely you are God’s son!” 

The disciples are filled with hope and joy in meeting Christ on the sea. I witnessed something similar in the life of one of the people we worked with in Mississippi. Each day some of our team members went to the house of a special woman named Margaret. It was at her house we learned how to hang drywall. Halfway through the week she pulled out some pictures that she had taken and framed. They were pictures of angels. Margaret sees angels in the clouds. Some of the pictures look a lot like angels. Others don’t. Most of them are quite beautiful. Many on our team admitted to being skeptical of angel pictures. But what I think we were all left with was her hope. Despite having a tree hit her house, mold grow everywhere, insufficient funds to pay for