This coming Sunday is All Saints Sunday - the day the church sets aside to remember all the saints, and we rejoice particularly with those saints who have both entered the communion through baptism, as well as those who have died and continue the communion with the choirs of angels. It is a day of celebration of the mystical communion of all saints - past, present, and future - and into this celebration comes the Word of God from 1 John 3.1-3. It is a perfect text for the celebration because it also starts with a celebration, "See what love the Father has given us, that we should be called children of God".
I think that that statement can end both with a question mark as well as an exclamation point. God loves us that much?? God loves us that much!! It is a difficult tension to live in because we know what kind of people we are - sinful and disobedient to God's will - and in spite of that God loves us and claims us as children in the communion of saints that is the body of Christ. When we are washed in these beautiful waters, we are made saints while we are still sinners, and as a result we live our lives in the tension between already and not yet. Already we are made saints while we are not yet quite saintly.
In thinking about these juxtapositions of sinner/saint, life in sin/life in Christ, impure/pure, it comes to my attention that we generally believe that God does this for us. We believe God loves us and that Jesus died so that we could be forgiven of our sins, freed to live a life of service to others, and we believe that the Holy Spirit strengthens us to do all of this. But we get caught up on ourselves. God can love us and forgive us, but it is a different story entirely when it comes to loving ourselves and forgiving ourselves. We think of other saints in the faith and start comparing ourselves. "Mary is so selfless - always serving others and giving of herself." "Bob seems like such a spiritual person - praying and reading his Bible..." We look to other saints and know that God loves them and has set them apart, but end up doubting ourselves and our own sainthoods.
Fortunately for us, the writer of 1 John lays it out plain as day: you are children of God! That makes us simultaneously saint and sinner, joined in the same family and with the same level of 'saint-ness' that we so admire in everyone but ourselves. Why shouldn't we see this in ourselves? We are the body of Christ, the saints here on earth. Each time we come to the table, eat the bread, and drink the wine, we are once again renewed, refreshed, and reminded that we are the body of Christ, saints, and children of God.
God loves us and in the bread and wine, water and word, makes us saints and children. What love has the Father given us!
03 November 2011
25 August 2011
Have I missed the mark?
The gospel this week continues right where left off last week, Matthew 16.21-28. As a reminder, Peter has just correctly identified Jesus as the Messiah, the Son of God. It was a moment of hope for the disciples who are constantly getting things wrong - but it was only a moment. We read this week that while Peter had the correct title, his understanding of what that title meant was a little off base.
It would seem that from Peter's vehement rebuke of Jesus' proclamation of what must happen, his idea of Messiah was different from Jesus'. At the time, many Jews were waiting for the Messiah - the Anointed One - but so was the rest of the Roman Empire. You see, under an oppressive and unjust regime most people were hoping for political salvation from the Romans, and it was said that the one to save them would be the Messiah. Peter was just reflecting the beliefs of his culture and time, much like many of us would like to be saved from the political and economic mess our own country is in. But that was not the Messiah that Christ was.
What Messiah would be born of such humble and low beginnings as one born in a stable to an unwed mother who had no wealth? Certainly not a political messiah. No, Jesus the Messiah, the son of the living God was a different sort of savior and he began to show them exactly what sort of savior that was. Jesus was the Messiah who would undergo suffering and death. Jesus was the Messiah who had followers that also must take up their crosses and deny themselves. This was obviously not what Peter expected, because the one who just moments prior had actually gotten it right was now called Satan by Jesus.
For us followers of Christ today, I wonder where we, like Peter, get it wrong and misunderstand Christ's death and resurrection? Where do we forget to take up our own crosses and deny ourselves for the sake of following Jesus? I must say that in my own life I have experienced more times than I can remember the unexpected nature of God's grace. Times and places where I would least expect, there, is God. In fact just this week I was at the hospital and had the privilege of being with a family as their father died. One of the family members asked if she could say a prayer, and none of us minded; except her prayer was going on, and on, and on... I kept looking around the room and noticing how the rest of the family was so uncomfortable. I kept watching the heart rate monitor as the life of this man slipped away. And I kept looking at this woman wishing she would just say amen! In fact, I was getting rather angry with her, that she could be so selfish as to be speaking and missing the last precious moments with this man. Except then came God's surprise. The second she (finally) said 'amen', the man's heart rate went to zero. The exact minute. And I was dumbfounded. If it had been up to me, I would have muzzled this woman, and yet, somehow, in the midst of every one's grief, sorrow, and discomfort with her agonizingly long prayer, God was there.
This encounter has left me pondering one of the mysteries from this text: Where else have I, like Peter, missed out on God's mission because of my own expectations?
It would seem that from Peter's vehement rebuke of Jesus' proclamation of what must happen, his idea of Messiah was different from Jesus'. At the time, many Jews were waiting for the Messiah - the Anointed One - but so was the rest of the Roman Empire. You see, under an oppressive and unjust regime most people were hoping for political salvation from the Romans, and it was said that the one to save them would be the Messiah. Peter was just reflecting the beliefs of his culture and time, much like many of us would like to be saved from the political and economic mess our own country is in. But that was not the Messiah that Christ was.
What Messiah would be born of such humble and low beginnings as one born in a stable to an unwed mother who had no wealth? Certainly not a political messiah. No, Jesus the Messiah, the son of the living God was a different sort of savior and he began to show them exactly what sort of savior that was. Jesus was the Messiah who would undergo suffering and death. Jesus was the Messiah who had followers that also must take up their crosses and deny themselves. This was obviously not what Peter expected, because the one who just moments prior had actually gotten it right was now called Satan by Jesus.
For us followers of Christ today, I wonder where we, like Peter, get it wrong and misunderstand Christ's death and resurrection? Where do we forget to take up our own crosses and deny ourselves for the sake of following Jesus? I must say that in my own life I have experienced more times than I can remember the unexpected nature of God's grace. Times and places where I would least expect, there, is God. In fact just this week I was at the hospital and had the privilege of being with a family as their father died. One of the family members asked if she could say a prayer, and none of us minded; except her prayer was going on, and on, and on... I kept looking around the room and noticing how the rest of the family was so uncomfortable. I kept watching the heart rate monitor as the life of this man slipped away. And I kept looking at this woman wishing she would just say amen! In fact, I was getting rather angry with her, that she could be so selfish as to be speaking and missing the last precious moments with this man. Except then came God's surprise. The second she (finally) said 'amen', the man's heart rate went to zero. The exact minute. And I was dumbfounded. If it had been up to me, I would have muzzled this woman, and yet, somehow, in the midst of every one's grief, sorrow, and discomfort with her agonizingly long prayer, God was there.
This encounter has left me pondering one of the mysteries from this text: Where else have I, like Peter, missed out on God's mission because of my own expectations?
18 August 2011
Who do I say that I am?
Our gospel lesson for Sunday comes from Matthew 16.13-20. This is a pivotal passage in Matthew's gospel in a couple of ways. First, it is the first time Jesus is proclaimed to be the Messiah. Second, it is the turning point in Jesus' focus; from here on out he is making his way back to Jerusalem to be crucified. The passage begins with Jesus asking who people say he is. I love this encounter because I think it shows the human side of Jesus really well. Who doesn't want to know what other people think of them? Aren't we all a little curious as to how we are perceived? So Jesus just asks up front, "Who do people say that I am?" It is an interesting question. Think about the last time someone asked, "Who's that?" How did you respond? My guess is that you identified them either by who their family is, by what they do for a living, or by how you know them. For instance, at the farmer's market yesterday I met someone for the first time but she had heard of me. "Oh, you're the minister!" was her response.
So often we are identified by what we do, and that is not necessarily untrue of Peter's declaration when Jesus asks, 'who do you say that I am?' Peter identifies Jesus by who he is: the Messiah, the son of the Living God. Jesus, savior, Emmanuel - God with us, is who he is because of what he does. Peter, on the other hand, is simply that: Peter. Right after Peter declares who Jesus is, his own identity is affirmed. He is not defined by what he does, or by whose son he is, his identity comes directly from the fact that Jesus is God's son. And that is the foundation of the whole church - Jesus' identity as the Messiah of the nations, the savior, God's son, God-with-us.
In a world where people and churches are defined by what they do or by whose family they are part of, Jesus' declaration that none of that matters is part of what it means to be loosed (v 19). The same is true of churches - churches are defined by what programs they have, what kind of worship they offer, who the members are, etc., but Peter's declaration and Jesus' affirmation looses us from these identities and give us a new one: people and church in Christ. Since who we are stems from the fact that Jesus is the Messiah, we are freed from worrying about everything! We no longer have to worry about how people perceive us, or what sort of vocation we have, or what type of church we go to, or what political party we affiliate with, or...
The heart of your very existence is that Jesus is the Son of the living God, a God who wants to be involved with your every moment of life, a God who sent a savior to loose you from all that binds you, to save you. No longer do you have to worry about following the 'rules' that everyone seems to think are part of what it means to be Christian. Jesus, God made flesh, savior of the nations, has set you free! No wonder Peter spoke up so bravely when Jesus asked. It is hard to keep such a wonderful gift under wraps.
Now verse 20 can be perplexing given what I just said. Jesus sternly ordered them not to tell anyone. If we read this verse in the context of the whole passage, Jesus knew it wasn't yet time for people to receive the message that he was God's son. He still needed to make it all the way back to Jerusalem before he could be crucified, and I think he was smart enough to know that people wouldn't be very happy if he went around saying he was God's Messiah, the savior of the world. This command not to tell people must be held in tension with Jesus' final words to his disciples in Matthew 28.18-20, when he commands us to make disciples of all nations, baptizing and teaching them. Jesus has already died and risen, Jesus has already set us free, and this is a message that ought to be shouted from every street corner, at every kitchen table, and in every workplace. We have been loosed! We are seen only in Christ, our savior, God with us.
This is great news, and it nearly makes me bubble over with joy, but it still leaves me wondering: who do I say that I am?
So often we are identified by what we do, and that is not necessarily untrue of Peter's declaration when Jesus asks, 'who do you say that I am?' Peter identifies Jesus by who he is: the Messiah, the son of the Living God. Jesus, savior, Emmanuel - God with us, is who he is because of what he does. Peter, on the other hand, is simply that: Peter. Right after Peter declares who Jesus is, his own identity is affirmed. He is not defined by what he does, or by whose son he is, his identity comes directly from the fact that Jesus is God's son. And that is the foundation of the whole church - Jesus' identity as the Messiah of the nations, the savior, God's son, God-with-us.
In a world where people and churches are defined by what they do or by whose family they are part of, Jesus' declaration that none of that matters is part of what it means to be loosed (v 19). The same is true of churches - churches are defined by what programs they have, what kind of worship they offer, who the members are, etc., but Peter's declaration and Jesus' affirmation looses us from these identities and give us a new one: people and church in Christ. Since who we are stems from the fact that Jesus is the Messiah, we are freed from worrying about everything! We no longer have to worry about how people perceive us, or what sort of vocation we have, or what type of church we go to, or what political party we affiliate with, or...
The heart of your very existence is that Jesus is the Son of the living God, a God who wants to be involved with your every moment of life, a God who sent a savior to loose you from all that binds you, to save you. No longer do you have to worry about following the 'rules' that everyone seems to think are part of what it means to be Christian. Jesus, God made flesh, savior of the nations, has set you free! No wonder Peter spoke up so bravely when Jesus asked. It is hard to keep such a wonderful gift under wraps.
Now verse 20 can be perplexing given what I just said. Jesus sternly ordered them not to tell anyone. If we read this verse in the context of the whole passage, Jesus knew it wasn't yet time for people to receive the message that he was God's son. He still needed to make it all the way back to Jerusalem before he could be crucified, and I think he was smart enough to know that people wouldn't be very happy if he went around saying he was God's Messiah, the savior of the world. This command not to tell people must be held in tension with Jesus' final words to his disciples in Matthew 28.18-20, when he commands us to make disciples of all nations, baptizing and teaching them. Jesus has already died and risen, Jesus has already set us free, and this is a message that ought to be shouted from every street corner, at every kitchen table, and in every workplace. We have been loosed! We are seen only in Christ, our savior, God with us.
This is great news, and it nearly makes me bubble over with joy, but it still leaves me wondering: who do I say that I am?
11 August 2011
Do I practice what I preach?
The gospel lesson for Sunday is a scene from Matthew where Jesus teaches and then encounters a Canaanite woman. It comes from Matthew 15.10-28, although verses 10-20 are optional for us to read. I however, think that the two go together hand in hand and so have decided to do the whole thing. The teaching comes as a response to the Pharisees' question to Jesus about why his disciples break the tradition by not washing before they eat. Jesus explains (I imagine with a little bit of frustration, based on verse 9, which wasn't included in the lectionary) that it isn't what goes in to a body but what comes out that defiles; it is not following the laws of cleanliness or not, but the heart that makes one unclean. He then goes on walking and encounters a woman, a Canaanite who is unclean because she's a) a woman and b) a foreigner.
I find this text rather perplexing because it seems like either Jesus is testing the woman to see how strong her faith is, or he doesn't really understand the extent of his teaching and the woman is pushing Jesus to recognize the implications of what he teaches. My theology has a hard time believing that Jesus is testing the woman's faith. First of all, faith is a gift given by the Holy Spirit, and second of all, Peter has just walked on water right after Jesus called him 'Little Faith'. Peter didn't even believe it was Jesus to begin with and this woman begins her request calling Jesus 'Lord' so if faith is at test here the woman has already won.
That leaves the other option - Jesus has just taught about what makes one unclean versus clean and he doesn't understand his own teaching. That leaves me a little unsettled. We do believe that Jesus was human, but was he that human? That he didn't understand the implications of his own teaching? It would seem that the Canaanite woman understood even better than Jesus that God sent him for the whole world, not just for Israel. Her insistence that even though Jesus may have initially come for Israel but he is God's gift for the world is humbling. She acknowledges that even a little of Jesus' favor and mercy, like the crumbs that fall on the floor for dogs, is better than nothing and I am humbled and a bit awed by her brazen faith that takes her beyond social boundaries into a place of healing and wholeness.
We all live in social boundaries, although, as I just read in 'The Help' by Kathryn Stockett, those boundaries are all made up by us humans and they are meant to divide and destroy. This Canaanite woman's request for Jesus to heal her daughter proves that these lines really are imaginary and that Christ's mercy is bigger than any social barrier or unwritten rule. Jesus preached this by saying it is what comes from within that defiles, though it was a teaching that even he had a hard time putting into practice. I have nothing but respect for this woman who so desperately wanted her daughter healed, and as I stand in the story of faith with her, I am left wondering...
Do I practice what I preach?
I find this text rather perplexing because it seems like either Jesus is testing the woman to see how strong her faith is, or he doesn't really understand the extent of his teaching and the woman is pushing Jesus to recognize the implications of what he teaches. My theology has a hard time believing that Jesus is testing the woman's faith. First of all, faith is a gift given by the Holy Spirit, and second of all, Peter has just walked on water right after Jesus called him 'Little Faith'. Peter didn't even believe it was Jesus to begin with and this woman begins her request calling Jesus 'Lord' so if faith is at test here the woman has already won.
That leaves the other option - Jesus has just taught about what makes one unclean versus clean and he doesn't understand his own teaching. That leaves me a little unsettled. We do believe that Jesus was human, but was he that human? That he didn't understand the implications of his own teaching? It would seem that the Canaanite woman understood even better than Jesus that God sent him for the whole world, not just for Israel. Her insistence that even though Jesus may have initially come for Israel but he is God's gift for the world is humbling. She acknowledges that even a little of Jesus' favor and mercy, like the crumbs that fall on the floor for dogs, is better than nothing and I am humbled and a bit awed by her brazen faith that takes her beyond social boundaries into a place of healing and wholeness.
We all live in social boundaries, although, as I just read in 'The Help' by Kathryn Stockett, those boundaries are all made up by us humans and they are meant to divide and destroy. This Canaanite woman's request for Jesus to heal her daughter proves that these lines really are imaginary and that Christ's mercy is bigger than any social barrier or unwritten rule. Jesus preached this by saying it is what comes from within that defiles, though it was a teaching that even he had a hard time putting into practice. I have nothing but respect for this woman who so desperately wanted her daughter healed, and as I stand in the story of faith with her, I am left wondering...
Do I practice what I preach?
03 August 2011
How is God calling you out of the boat?
August is here, back-to-school sales are running, and I even saw some Halloween candy in the store yesterday (yes, those peeps consumed in October have been sitting packaged since August...). The summer is finally starting to feel like summer and not some foretaste of a fiery afterlife, the vacations are coming to a close, and schedules are getting set for the start of a new program year.
In many ways, it feels like New Years - many more new things start in September than in January. (And these new things usually end up sticking, unlike those New Years' resolutions!) Fall activities like sports, arts, and other extra-curricular events are already on the calendar. Sunday School, confirmation, and weekly worship are back on the schedule as a weekly event. At St. John we have a couple of new things on our calendar - WoW, or Worship on Wednesdays, each Wednesday from 6:00-6:40, and the after school program each week on Tuesdays from 3:00-5:30. The random, somewhat chaotic schedule of summer is giving way to the methodical, even more chaotic schedule of fall.
And in the midst of this transition we are met with our gospel lesson. We are continuing from last week with Matthew 14.22-33, and we meet a tired and worn out Jesus who finally gets some time alone to grieve, pray, and rest. He sends the crowds away satisfied, he sends the disciples away in the boat, and takes the night for himself, only to find the boat far off shore in the morning. It is the well-known story about Peter who gets out of the boat when Jesus commands him. He actually walks on water! But when he notices that he's doing something quite miraculous and the wind is howling around him he begins to sink and Jesus saves him. Jesus also asks, "You of little faith, why did you doubt?"
"You of little faith" sounds like Jesus is telling Peter he has a little amount of faith, but there is a little something lost in translation here. Instead of it being a statement on the amount of faith Peter actually has, it is in reality a term of endearment and would be translated more like, "Little Faith, why did you doubt?" Jesus also uses this term three other times in Matthew's gospel (6.30, 8.26, and 16.8) as a pet name for the disciples. It is, in my opinion, Jesus' way of reminding the disciples that they already have all the faith they need and that Jesus works through them just as they are, no strings attached, no ifs, ands, or buts.
We are the same as Peter. Each day is an opportunity for Jesus to do miraculous things through us. We may not walk on water in the middle of a storm, but God's miracles happen through us every moment, little signs of God's tremendous grace that together add up to show that God's hand is in all parts of our life. It is God working in us 'Little Faiths' each time we take a breath and think before we say something hurtful. It is God working in us each time we carve out the 10 minutes it takes to read our daily devotion, or quiet ourselves in prayer. It is God working in us as we live out our faith at work - maybe you don't curse or swear, maybe you love unconditionally, maybe you even talk about your faith or how God has made a difference in your life.
Each day is an opportunity for God to work in and through you, just as Jesus used Peter to do a miracle, so God uses you to show God's power and love in the world. And, just as Peter, Little Faith, got out of the boat, so God is encouraging you to get out of the boat. The mystery of all this is, how is God calling you out of the boat?
In many ways, it feels like New Years - many more new things start in September than in January. (And these new things usually end up sticking, unlike those New Years' resolutions!) Fall activities like sports, arts, and other extra-curricular events are already on the calendar. Sunday School, confirmation, and weekly worship are back on the schedule as a weekly event. At St. John we have a couple of new things on our calendar - WoW, or Worship on Wednesdays, each Wednesday from 6:00-6:40, and the after school program each week on Tuesdays from 3:00-5:30. The random, somewhat chaotic schedule of summer is giving way to the methodical, even more chaotic schedule of fall.
And in the midst of this transition we are met with our gospel lesson. We are continuing from last week with Matthew 14.22-33, and we meet a tired and worn out Jesus who finally gets some time alone to grieve, pray, and rest. He sends the crowds away satisfied, he sends the disciples away in the boat, and takes the night for himself, only to find the boat far off shore in the morning. It is the well-known story about Peter who gets out of the boat when Jesus commands him. He actually walks on water! But when he notices that he's doing something quite miraculous and the wind is howling around him he begins to sink and Jesus saves him. Jesus also asks, "You of little faith, why did you doubt?"
"You of little faith" sounds like Jesus is telling Peter he has a little amount of faith, but there is a little something lost in translation here. Instead of it being a statement on the amount of faith Peter actually has, it is in reality a term of endearment and would be translated more like, "Little Faith, why did you doubt?" Jesus also uses this term three other times in Matthew's gospel (6.30, 8.26, and 16.8) as a pet name for the disciples. It is, in my opinion, Jesus' way of reminding the disciples that they already have all the faith they need and that Jesus works through them just as they are, no strings attached, no ifs, ands, or buts.
We are the same as Peter. Each day is an opportunity for Jesus to do miraculous things through us. We may not walk on water in the middle of a storm, but God's miracles happen through us every moment, little signs of God's tremendous grace that together add up to show that God's hand is in all parts of our life. It is God working in us 'Little Faiths' each time we take a breath and think before we say something hurtful. It is God working in us each time we carve out the 10 minutes it takes to read our daily devotion, or quiet ourselves in prayer. It is God working in us as we live out our faith at work - maybe you don't curse or swear, maybe you love unconditionally, maybe you even talk about your faith or how God has made a difference in your life.
Each day is an opportunity for God to work in and through you, just as Jesus used Peter to do a miracle, so God uses you to show God's power and love in the world. And, just as Peter, Little Faith, got out of the boat, so God is encouraging you to get out of the boat. The mystery of all this is, how is God calling you out of the boat?
21 July 2011
What is the kingdom?
After a week in Cincinnati with our high school youth, we are back on track with Paul in his letter to the Romans. We are steadily making our way through and are now in Romans 8.26-39. This portion of the letter is read in conjunction with the gospel, Matthew 13.31-33, 45-52. In reading these two passages, I am struck by two things. Firstly, in Romans, we are reminded of how God's love for creation trumps all else. Secondly, in Matthew, we are reminded several times of the surprises of the kingdom of heaven.
The surprises about God's kingdom are many, according to these parables from Matthew. They are like a mustard seed that someone planted - now mustard is considered a weed and I don't know anyone who purposely plants weeds. In addition, mustard plants are not the greatest of all shrubs and birds can't make their nests there, like Jesus said. Surprise #1. The woman who took yeast and leavened 3 measures of flour is a surprise because in the Old Testament leavening is talked about as an evil or corrupt act, not something one would consider to be part of the kingdom of heaven. Surprise #2. Skipping to verse 47, the kingdom is like a net thrown into the sea that gathers all sorts of fish, good and bad together. Here I thought the kingdom was going to be all good. Surprise #3.
Now, pausing for a moment and stepping into Romans, we read that nothing can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus. Nothing. Now I don't like to admit this, but I have in my mind a certain 'type' of person who will be in the kingdom of heaven, and what the kingdom of heaven will be like. That's not to say I go around pointing at people in my head saying, "In. Not in. In. Definitely not in..." It's a lot more subtle, and sadly, a lot more shallow. Snap, quick, judgements that deny a person their identity as a beloved child of God and instead label them in one way or another. Or I think to myself, "If I can't laugh in heaven then I don't want to go there."
Based on the Matthew and Romans readings, I have a feeling that I'm in for a really big surprise. If the kingdom of heaven has both good fish and bad fish? Or if it's like a weed?? Personally, I find weeds rather annoying. Plus, Jesus came proclaiming that the kingdom of heaven has already come near. That means that it's not some pie-in-the-sky dream, but that it's right here, right now. Our Romans text is a particularly popular text at funerals because it reminds us that even death cannot separate us from God's love, however, I think that this text is just as important (if not more so) today than some unknown time in the future.
These texts have kept me pondering all week what exactly the kingdom of heaven is like. If it's like a weed, then it keeps sprouting up exactly where I least expect or want it. If it's like the leavening, it's something totally the opposite of what I think. If it's like the net with all the good fish and bad fish, then there are parts of the kingdom that I wouldn't have thought belonged. So, basically, the kingdom of heaven is unlike anything I thought. Thankfully for me, even my judgements can't separate me from God's love. My judgements may prevent me from seeing the kingdom, but they certainly don't put me outside God's love or God's kingdom. For us Lutherans we are assured of this each morning when we rise as baptized children of God - God has named and claimed us, so that nothing we do, say, think, or feel can put us outside of God's reach.
Thinking in this way, I wonder how often I miss seeing God's kingdom because it is not what I expect? How many opportunities have I missed God's kingdom because I was looking for what I wanted, not what God wants for all of creation? And, the biggest mystery of all leaves me pondering, What is the kingdom?
The surprises about God's kingdom are many, according to these parables from Matthew. They are like a mustard seed that someone planted - now mustard is considered a weed and I don't know anyone who purposely plants weeds. In addition, mustard plants are not the greatest of all shrubs and birds can't make their nests there, like Jesus said. Surprise #1. The woman who took yeast and leavened 3 measures of flour is a surprise because in the Old Testament leavening is talked about as an evil or corrupt act, not something one would consider to be part of the kingdom of heaven. Surprise #2. Skipping to verse 47, the kingdom is like a net thrown into the sea that gathers all sorts of fish, good and bad together. Here I thought the kingdom was going to be all good. Surprise #3.
Now, pausing for a moment and stepping into Romans, we read that nothing can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus. Nothing. Now I don't like to admit this, but I have in my mind a certain 'type' of person who will be in the kingdom of heaven, and what the kingdom of heaven will be like. That's not to say I go around pointing at people in my head saying, "In. Not in. In. Definitely not in..." It's a lot more subtle, and sadly, a lot more shallow. Snap, quick, judgements that deny a person their identity as a beloved child of God and instead label them in one way or another. Or I think to myself, "If I can't laugh in heaven then I don't want to go there."
Based on the Matthew and Romans readings, I have a feeling that I'm in for a really big surprise. If the kingdom of heaven has both good fish and bad fish? Or if it's like a weed?? Personally, I find weeds rather annoying. Plus, Jesus came proclaiming that the kingdom of heaven has already come near. That means that it's not some pie-in-the-sky dream, but that it's right here, right now. Our Romans text is a particularly popular text at funerals because it reminds us that even death cannot separate us from God's love, however, I think that this text is just as important (if not more so) today than some unknown time in the future.
These texts have kept me pondering all week what exactly the kingdom of heaven is like. If it's like a weed, then it keeps sprouting up exactly where I least expect or want it. If it's like the leavening, it's something totally the opposite of what I think. If it's like the net with all the good fish and bad fish, then there are parts of the kingdom that I wouldn't have thought belonged. So, basically, the kingdom of heaven is unlike anything I thought. Thankfully for me, even my judgements can't separate me from God's love. My judgements may prevent me from seeing the kingdom, but they certainly don't put me outside God's love or God's kingdom. For us Lutherans we are assured of this each morning when we rise as baptized children of God - God has named and claimed us, so that nothing we do, say, think, or feel can put us outside of God's reach.
Thinking in this way, I wonder how often I miss seeing God's kingdom because it is not what I expect? How many opportunities have I missed God's kingdom because I was looking for what I wanted, not what God wants for all of creation? And, the biggest mystery of all leaves me pondering, What is the kingdom?
07 July 2011
For what (or whom) has God freed me today?
The Romans texts continue this Sunday with Romans 8.1-11 and Paul's discussion of life in the Spirit. Paul's argument of life in the flesh versus life in the Spirit is founded on the assertion that we are not in the flesh, but in the Spirit (v9). We know that the Spirit of God dwells in us because of the promises God made to us in the waters of baptism, namely that after baptism in the name of the Triune God we are sealed with the Holy Spirit and marked with the cross of Christ. God is faithful to God's promises, and because we are in the Spirit (not in the flesh) we are free from the law of sin and death.
Free from the law of sin and death is certainly not a freedom from the struggle with sin, as all of us know every moment of every day! It is, however, a freedom from the sentence of death and judgment on the last day. So it is clear that in Christ we are freed from our sin and the death that certainly arises as a result of it, and that instead we are given in exchange the gift of forgiveness, peace, freedom, and eternal life. It is pretty clear what we are freed from. It is not so clear, however, just what we are freed for.
One of my professors at seminary had a favorite saying: freed from and freed for. We are freed from our sin and freed for service to neighbor. Knowing that we no longer need to worry about the wrongs we have done, we live in the freedom of Christ so that we can continue to carry out Christ's mission to the world: bringing God's love to all. Christ brought God's love through proclaiming the good news of God's kingdom and by serving. Six of our high schoolers and two adults will travel this next week to Cincinnati in order to serve the neighbor. We will sleep at a church in Batavia, Ohio, and travel from there to different service sites. We know that God goes before us and that we will meet Christ in those we serve just as much (if not more) than we will bring Christ to others. We will serve and be served, free from all that binds us in our daily lives.
Even knowing that we are freed from sin in order to serve others, I continue to daily live the mystery: for what (or whom) has God freed me today?
Free from the law of sin and death is certainly not a freedom from the struggle with sin, as all of us know every moment of every day! It is, however, a freedom from the sentence of death and judgment on the last day. So it is clear that in Christ we are freed from our sin and the death that certainly arises as a result of it, and that instead we are given in exchange the gift of forgiveness, peace, freedom, and eternal life. It is pretty clear what we are freed from. It is not so clear, however, just what we are freed for.
One of my professors at seminary had a favorite saying: freed from and freed for. We are freed from our sin and freed for service to neighbor. Knowing that we no longer need to worry about the wrongs we have done, we live in the freedom of Christ so that we can continue to carry out Christ's mission to the world: bringing God's love to all. Christ brought God's love through proclaiming the good news of God's kingdom and by serving. Six of our high schoolers and two adults will travel this next week to Cincinnati in order to serve the neighbor. We will sleep at a church in Batavia, Ohio, and travel from there to different service sites. We know that God goes before us and that we will meet Christ in those we serve just as much (if not more) than we will bring Christ to others. We will serve and be served, free from all that binds us in our daily lives.
Even knowing that we are freed from sin in order to serve others, I continue to daily live the mystery: for what (or whom) has God freed me today?
01 July 2011
Why did I do that?
Have you ever found yourself, milliseconds after doing something, wondering why you did it? Perhaps it is as innocent as taking that last bite of the dessert that you swore you would leave half of, or maybe even as hurtful words are coming out of your mouth you think "I shouldn't say this," but it is as it you are compelled and you just can't stop. In our Romans reading for this week Paul asks the same question. The theme of sinning continues from last week in Romans 7.15-25a as Paul states, "I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate." He was a human being just like us, and and he strove to live a better life in Christ only to be disappointed in himself over and over again.
As Christians this is our struggle while we are still on earth, the struggle between the devil on the one shoulder and the angel on the other shoulder, as so many cartoons depict it - the part of us that loves to do the wrong thing, even when the other part of us knows it's a bad decision. So are we helpless to forever listen to the devil on the one shoulder? Thankfully, the answer to that is a resounding NO!
Paul wondered the same thing, which is why our reading ends, "Who will rescue me from this body of death? Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord!" As I ponder Paul's words, I sometimes think that perhaps the biggest sin that gets me over and over again is that I don't really believe Jesus can help me. I know that God has transformed me in Jesus in the waters of baptism, but I don't really believe it. I often just throw my hands up in exasperation and give in to the hopelessness that I will never be better and will forever be stuck in my brokenness.
What a crisis of faith! To think that as Christians we, for the most part, don't really believe Christ has the power to change the world one person at a time? Isn't that God's mission in Christ? Isn't that why we proclaim Christ's love to others? Isn't that why we baptize and teach? (Of course there is the after-death component, which is lovely, but doesn't help us much in the mean time.) But once again, thanks be to God through Jesus Christ that he comes to our rescue. In our moment of faith crisis, just when we have given up hope that life in Christ could be any different, we hear Christ's words to us, "Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest." What better words to offer comfort than the open invitation from Christ? Perhaps it is just at the moment of hopelessness that Christ can best speak to us, since when we think we can do it on our own we have no need for help therefore we have no need for Christ. Until we come to the moment of grace when we come to fully understand our inability to live a Christian life on our own, without Christ's power and mercy, we continue to beat ourselves up and live in the mystery asking over and over, "Why did I do that?"
As Christians this is our struggle while we are still on earth, the struggle between the devil on the one shoulder and the angel on the other shoulder, as so many cartoons depict it - the part of us that loves to do the wrong thing, even when the other part of us knows it's a bad decision. So are we helpless to forever listen to the devil on the one shoulder? Thankfully, the answer to that is a resounding NO!
Paul wondered the same thing, which is why our reading ends, "Who will rescue me from this body of death? Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord!" As I ponder Paul's words, I sometimes think that perhaps the biggest sin that gets me over and over again is that I don't really believe Jesus can help me. I know that God has transformed me in Jesus in the waters of baptism, but I don't really believe it. I often just throw my hands up in exasperation and give in to the hopelessness that I will never be better and will forever be stuck in my brokenness.
What a crisis of faith! To think that as Christians we, for the most part, don't really believe Christ has the power to change the world one person at a time? Isn't that God's mission in Christ? Isn't that why we proclaim Christ's love to others? Isn't that why we baptize and teach? (Of course there is the after-death component, which is lovely, but doesn't help us much in the mean time.) But once again, thanks be to God through Jesus Christ that he comes to our rescue. In our moment of faith crisis, just when we have given up hope that life in Christ could be any different, we hear Christ's words to us, "Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest." What better words to offer comfort than the open invitation from Christ? Perhaps it is just at the moment of hopelessness that Christ can best speak to us, since when we think we can do it on our own we have no need for help therefore we have no need for Christ. Until we come to the moment of grace when we come to fully understand our inability to live a Christian life on our own, without Christ's power and mercy, we continue to beat ourselves up and live in the mystery asking over and over, "Why did I do that?"
23 June 2011
I'm already holy? Are you sure?
The book of Romans is a fairly important one when it comes to our Lutheran theology but if you've ever tried to sit down and just read through it, you may find that it is a bit overwhelming. Paul uses a very systematic, logical argument in his letter, but he also uses a lot of big words like justification, sanctification, and righteousness, not to mention the opposites he uses: law/grace, slaves of sin/slaves of righteousness, death/life, etc. It is a confusing book! So, over the next few weeks I hope to be able to shed some light on our readings from Romans.
Our reading this Sunday comes from Romans 6.12-23. Unfortunately we don't have the benefit of hearing the first half of the chapter, which is pretty central to Paul's argument, so if you get a chance, read 6.1-11 before Sunday. Verses 1-11 deal with our new identities in Christ once we are baptized. Paul reminds us that in baptism our sins are forgiven and we are washed with God's grace (justified) and made pure and holy (righteous) in God's sight. The result of this is that we are no longer responsible for securing our own salvation, because we are quite unable to do so. Christ lived a sinless life, and since we are united with Christ in baptism, his sinlessness is granted to us as a free gift, our salvation. That is where our reading for Sunday picks up.
Paul begins with the question about sin - since, in Christ, God forgives our sin and we no longer have to follow the law but are free in Christ's grace, does that mean we should keep on sinning on purpose? Of course not! Paul then goes on to argue why we shouldn't keep sinning even though God forgives us. We have all witnessed or heard stories about people who call themselves 'Christian' but whose lives don't look like what we think a 'Christian' life should look like. Those hypocrites, we say. And, unfortunately, in my own life I have been one of those hypocrites - I judge others like I rule the world, I rarely give people the benefit of the doubt and think ill rather than nice things, I am the queen of excuses, and most of the time, I, me, and my comes first.
Even so, Paul says, we have already been saved and our sinfulness is dead so that God can work on raising up in us a new, better, Christ-like person. Now, this is what we call sanctification - the living a Christ-like life here and now, where we sin less and do God's will more. This doesn't mean that the older I get the better I will be at not sinning. On the contrary, we Lutherans believe that sanctification is a daily process. Each morning when we awake we are granted a new opportunity to say 'no' to sin so that God can work good in us. I don't know about you, but I made it about two minutes (if that) before I sinned this morning, so even more than a daily process sanctification is a moment-by-moment process in which the Holy Spirit works in us to produce faith so that God can conquer our sin.
And this is the free gift Paul talks about in verse 23 - the consequences of sin is death. Not only the big DEAD death, but the little deaths that we die every day: the regret we feel when we say something we shouldn't have, the distance we feel when we have an argument with a loved one, the speeding ticket we have to pay because we forgot about those speed cameras... But, because God loves us, and because Christ gives us his own sinlessness in baptism, the gift we get is life. Not only the big ETERNAL life, but the little life we live every day: the love we feel for our family when we put them first, the knowledge that even on bad hair days we have value and worthiness, the satisfaction of having that little break in your day... That is life, and that is what we gain in exchange for our sinfulness when Christ died for us.
So we don't keep on sinning, but we do strive to say 'no' to sin - not to win our own salvation or to prove to others that we are saved, but because the Holy Spirit works in us so that God's will might be done and so that we are made Christ-like through the moment-by-moment process of sanctification. Now, this is a complete and total mystery to me. The fact that God has already made me holy sits in pure tension with the reality that I am still a sinner. But that is the promise of God in Jesus Christ Jesus through the power of the Spirit. And it is the mystery we live every day. I'm already holy God? Are you sure??
Our reading this Sunday comes from Romans 6.12-23. Unfortunately we don't have the benefit of hearing the first half of the chapter, which is pretty central to Paul's argument, so if you get a chance, read 6.1-11 before Sunday. Verses 1-11 deal with our new identities in Christ once we are baptized. Paul reminds us that in baptism our sins are forgiven and we are washed with God's grace (justified) and made pure and holy (righteous) in God's sight. The result of this is that we are no longer responsible for securing our own salvation, because we are quite unable to do so. Christ lived a sinless life, and since we are united with Christ in baptism, his sinlessness is granted to us as a free gift, our salvation. That is where our reading for Sunday picks up.
Paul begins with the question about sin - since, in Christ, God forgives our sin and we no longer have to follow the law but are free in Christ's grace, does that mean we should keep on sinning on purpose? Of course not! Paul then goes on to argue why we shouldn't keep sinning even though God forgives us. We have all witnessed or heard stories about people who call themselves 'Christian' but whose lives don't look like what we think a 'Christian' life should look like. Those hypocrites, we say. And, unfortunately, in my own life I have been one of those hypocrites - I judge others like I rule the world, I rarely give people the benefit of the doubt and think ill rather than nice things, I am the queen of excuses, and most of the time, I, me, and my comes first.
Even so, Paul says, we have already been saved and our sinfulness is dead so that God can work on raising up in us a new, better, Christ-like person. Now, this is what we call sanctification - the living a Christ-like life here and now, where we sin less and do God's will more. This doesn't mean that the older I get the better I will be at not sinning. On the contrary, we Lutherans believe that sanctification is a daily process. Each morning when we awake we are granted a new opportunity to say 'no' to sin so that God can work good in us. I don't know about you, but I made it about two minutes (if that) before I sinned this morning, so even more than a daily process sanctification is a moment-by-moment process in which the Holy Spirit works in us to produce faith so that God can conquer our sin.
And this is the free gift Paul talks about in verse 23 - the consequences of sin is death. Not only the big DEAD death, but the little deaths that we die every day: the regret we feel when we say something we shouldn't have, the distance we feel when we have an argument with a loved one, the speeding ticket we have to pay because we forgot about those speed cameras... But, because God loves us, and because Christ gives us his own sinlessness in baptism, the gift we get is life. Not only the big ETERNAL life, but the little life we live every day: the love we feel for our family when we put them first, the knowledge that even on bad hair days we have value and worthiness, the satisfaction of having that little break in your day... That is life, and that is what we gain in exchange for our sinfulness when Christ died for us.
So we don't keep on sinning, but we do strive to say 'no' to sin - not to win our own salvation or to prove to others that we are saved, but because the Holy Spirit works in us so that God's will might be done and so that we are made Christ-like through the moment-by-moment process of sanctification. Now, this is a complete and total mystery to me. The fact that God has already made me holy sits in pure tension with the reality that I am still a sinner. But that is the promise of God in Jesus Christ Jesus through the power of the Spirit. And it is the mystery we live every day. I'm already holy God? Are you sure??
16 June 2011
If the Holy Spirit makes us fossils, what does the Trinity do?
We heard last Sunday, Pentecost Sunday, how the Holy Spirit works in and through God's people on earth to help us leave our mark on the world, much like fossils leave their mark. We know from studying fossils how those organisms lived, what they ate, what their purpose was, and what role they played in the larger ecosystem. We, as disciples of the living Jesus, leave our marks and we pray that the Spirit would help us to leave our marks so that in generations to come, people can look back and see what God was doing in the world through us by the fossils we leave.
Still in the midst of trying to comprehend how the Spirit is working in us, living, moving, and breathing in the world since the day of Pentecost, we come to Holy Trinity Sunday. These two celebrations come in rapid succession, one after another, and because of the sheer greatness of these celebrations it feels as though our heads are left spinning, held on only by the thin thread of faith that somehow manages to comprehend the incomprehensible.
So if the Holy Spirit makes fossils out of us, what is the role of the whole Trinity? Our gospel lesson comes from Matthew 28.16-20 and we get a front row seat to Jesus' final words to his disciples. The text has three specific pieces: the disciples worshiped and doubted, Jesus gives two commands, and Jesus makes his final promise. The Trinity is explicitly mentioned in Jesus' first command, to baptize disciples in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Other than that, Jesus leaves us pretty clueless. He gives us a command but very little guidance on how to carry it out.
I think that it must have something to do with the nature of the Holy Trinity, and that the Triune God is the source, power, and even completion of the commands. But the question remains, how? How does the Holy Trinity work to help us fulfill Jesus' last command? How does the Trinity grant the faith we need so that even when we are doubting we can worship? What role does the Trinity play in how we remember Jesus is with us always? Or aside from remembering, just simply trusting in the first place?
Yes, the Holy Trinity remains one of the greatest mysteries of the Christian faith and we, as people of that faith, continue to worship and praise our Triune God even when we don't fully understand. But there is that part of me that strives to understand everything there is about a faith that cannot be understood, and so I continue to ponder: if the Holy Spirit makes us fossils, what does the Trinity do?
Still in the midst of trying to comprehend how the Spirit is working in us, living, moving, and breathing in the world since the day of Pentecost, we come to Holy Trinity Sunday. These two celebrations come in rapid succession, one after another, and because of the sheer greatness of these celebrations it feels as though our heads are left spinning, held on only by the thin thread of faith that somehow manages to comprehend the incomprehensible.
So if the Holy Spirit makes fossils out of us, what is the role of the whole Trinity? Our gospel lesson comes from Matthew 28.16-20 and we get a front row seat to Jesus' final words to his disciples. The text has three specific pieces: the disciples worshiped and doubted, Jesus gives two commands, and Jesus makes his final promise. The Trinity is explicitly mentioned in Jesus' first command, to baptize disciples in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Other than that, Jesus leaves us pretty clueless. He gives us a command but very little guidance on how to carry it out.
I think that it must have something to do with the nature of the Holy Trinity, and that the Triune God is the source, power, and even completion of the commands. But the question remains, how? How does the Holy Trinity work to help us fulfill Jesus' last command? How does the Trinity grant the faith we need so that even when we are doubting we can worship? What role does the Trinity play in how we remember Jesus is with us always? Or aside from remembering, just simply trusting in the first place?
Yes, the Holy Trinity remains one of the greatest mysteries of the Christian faith and we, as people of that faith, continue to worship and praise our Triune God even when we don't fully understand. But there is that part of me that strives to understand everything there is about a faith that cannot be understood, and so I continue to ponder: if the Holy Spirit makes us fossils, what does the Trinity do?
08 June 2011
Where is the Spirit?
This Sunday is Pentecost, the day in our church year we celebrate the coming of the Holy Spirit. The primary story of the coming of the Holy Spirit is found in Acts 2.1-21, although there is also a much more abbreviated version in the gospel of John. The Holy Spirit is something that, for a long time, I found hard to understand. I knew what God the Father did - created, sent Jesus, loved/judged us, etc. It's all in the Apostles' Creed. I knew what God the Son did - came to earth as a baby, did some amazing things, and then died on the cross for our sins before he was raised by the Father, as it says in the creed. But the Holy Spirit...it only gets one line in the creed - I believe in the Holy Spirit. Trying to describe the Holy Spirit was kind of like trying to describe... well...
This is such a tragedy because as people of faith, we read in the Bible that the Holy Spirit is who Jesus sent to us as our helper, guide, comforter, teacher. We profess that we are sealed with the Holy Spirit and marked with the cross of Christ forever in the waters of baptism. In fact, in John 20 Jesus actually commands that we receive the Holy Spirit, so as his disciples we don't have much of a say in whether we receive the Spirit or not. It is God's gift to us, and we have the Spirit whether we acknowledge it, know it, or like it.
So back to the original question - what is the Holy Spirit? Some people describe it as intuition, and I have experienced the Holy Spirit in this way at times, although I know it only in retrospect. Others describe the Holy Spirit as a constant, quiet companion. Martin Luther describes the Holy Spirit in this way:
According to Luther we wouldn't even be a church without the Holy Spirit, and from reading in Acts, it seems this is most certainly true. It also occurs to me that instead of describing what the Holy Spirit, perhaps we ought to be describing who or where the Holy Spirit is.
Many have said in the past few months, myself included, that the Holy Spirit is in our faith community of St. John, doing some amazing things, including working in our confirmation youth, bringing people to worship, creating a spark of excitement, helping our Sunday School kids grow and learn in faith, spurring adults to volunteer in new and different ways, giving people courage to share about their faith and how St. John helps them in that faith, etc. I have heard story after story about the Holy Spirit working and doing amazing things.
The exciting part is that the Holy Spirit is just as active in each of our daily lives. From giving us breath each moment, to helping us remain patient with a child who just isn't behaving properly, to taking the extra minute to listen to a coworker. That is all the work of the Spirit but we rarely give the Spirit any credit. The Holy Spirit is such an integral part of our lives we take for granted where it is. In a lot of ways the Holy Spirit reminds me of the women who actually make the world run. You know who I'm talking about - it's those women who show up early to make sure the coffee is on, the women who spend hours cutting out crafts for their child's class, the women who are always busily working behind the scenes, rarely getting credit, but always there, always working to make sure the world runs. But even that doesn't quite get at the Holy Spirit. Yes, trying to describe the Spirit remains quite the mystery, so for now I will ponder:
Where is the Spirit working?
*From Luther's Small Catechism, A Contemporary Translation. Augsburg Fortress 1996, p 23.
This is such a tragedy because as people of faith, we read in the Bible that the Holy Spirit is who Jesus sent to us as our helper, guide, comforter, teacher. We profess that we are sealed with the Holy Spirit and marked with the cross of Christ forever in the waters of baptism. In fact, in John 20 Jesus actually commands that we receive the Holy Spirit, so as his disciples we don't have much of a say in whether we receive the Spirit or not. It is God's gift to us, and we have the Spirit whether we acknowledge it, know it, or like it.
So back to the original question - what is the Holy Spirit? Some people describe it as intuition, and I have experienced the Holy Spirit in this way at times, although I know it only in retrospect. Others describe the Holy Spirit as a constant, quiet companion. Martin Luther describes the Holy Spirit in this way:
I believe that by my own understanding or strength I cannot believe in Jesus Christ my Lord or come to
him, but instead the Holy Spirit has called me through the gospel, enlightened me with gifts, made me holy,
and kept me in the true faith. Daily in this Christian church the Holy Spirit abundantly forgives all sins -
mine and those of all believers. On the last day the Holy Spirit will raise me and all the dead and will give
to me and all believes in Christ eternal life. This is most certainly true.*
According to Luther we wouldn't even be a church without the Holy Spirit, and from reading in Acts, it seems this is most certainly true. It also occurs to me that instead of describing what the Holy Spirit, perhaps we ought to be describing who or where the Holy Spirit is.
Many have said in the past few months, myself included, that the Holy Spirit is in our faith community of St. John, doing some amazing things, including working in our confirmation youth, bringing people to worship, creating a spark of excitement, helping our Sunday School kids grow and learn in faith, spurring adults to volunteer in new and different ways, giving people courage to share about their faith and how St. John helps them in that faith, etc. I have heard story after story about the Holy Spirit working and doing amazing things.
The exciting part is that the Holy Spirit is just as active in each of our daily lives. From giving us breath each moment, to helping us remain patient with a child who just isn't behaving properly, to taking the extra minute to listen to a coworker. That is all the work of the Spirit but we rarely give the Spirit any credit. The Holy Spirit is such an integral part of our lives we take for granted where it is. In a lot of ways the Holy Spirit reminds me of the women who actually make the world run. You know who I'm talking about - it's those women who show up early to make sure the coffee is on, the women who spend hours cutting out crafts for their child's class, the women who are always busily working behind the scenes, rarely getting credit, but always there, always working to make sure the world runs. But even that doesn't quite get at the Holy Spirit. Yes, trying to describe the Spirit remains quite the mystery, so for now I will ponder:
Where is the Spirit working?
*From Luther's Small Catechism, A Contemporary Translation. Augsburg Fortress 1996, p 23.
26 May 2011
Who is our 'unknown god'?
While we heard last week Jesus remind his disciples that he is the way, the truth, and the life, this week we will focus on Paul's speech to the Greeks in Athens from Acts 17.22-31. Paul is standing in the middle of the Areopagus, the location where the Athenian court convened. He gives a brilliant speech (sermon) testifying to the God "who made the world and everything in it," which is the god the Greeks have been worshiping as the 'unknown god'. Paul understands the thinking, the mainstream culture, and the attitudes of these Greeks and so appeals to their intellect in proclaiming the gospel, never once mentioning the name of Jesus Christ, but only making reference to him as "a man whom [God] has appointed".
What is most profound about this sermon in Acts is that it shows that the gospel, the good news about Jesus Christ, is meaningless if it doesn't speak to the culture. Each week millions of Christians confess our faith with the words of the Creeds, first written around 325 CE. However it is not the words themselves that are good news, it is the message about God's salvation through Jesus Christ and the life that enables followers of Christ to live.
The mysteries in this week's text are rather profound, I think. I am left wondering, where is our present day Areopagus? What or who is our unknown god? Lastly, and perhaps most importantly, how do we proclaim the message of the gospel in a way that makes sense and connects with people in our world? I often think of sports as a god. People buy special clothes, devote hours to practice and games, spend hundreds on tickets and admission fees, and very often sports are a higher priority than other things. I think of family as a god. Family events and needs are often a higher priority than other things in life, and we worship children, siblings, spouses, or parents to the point that it is more important to please them than to please God. I think of consumerism as a god. We tend to our belongings, unfortunately as a society living on 125% of our income, and our possessions become our god. There are others, too. Hobbies, work, exercise, anything can become our god.
My sense is, however, that we simply use these things (sports, family, possessions, etc) to try to satisfy in us our deepest needs of belonging, being loved, accepted, and having purpose. Except in the end, where are sports, family, and possessions? Your team will go on playing whether you're there to watch/participate. Your family, though sad, will continue living after you're gone. I've never seen a hearse pulling a U-Haul, and your possessions will be sold, thrown, or given away.
Just as the Athenians worshiped the 'unknown god' we also worship our gods, but in the end, these gods fail us. Thankfully Paul reminds us that the unknown god is in actuality the God who made the world and everything in it, who gives to all mortals life and breath and all things, who commands all people everywhere to repent, because the world will be judged in righteousness by Jesus Christ, whom God has raised from the dead. It is this last part, this 'being raised from the dead' that is the most scandalous to the Greeks, who viewed the body as something to be overcome, and death was the only way in which to ultimately overcome the body. Jesus' death and resurrection is also scandalous in our own culture, though for different reasons.
In a world that thinks we are completely self-sufficient, having to rely on someone who lived 2000 years ago seems preposterous. We are the ones who provide for our own families. We are the ones who accomplish all that we do in our lives. We are the ones who, if we are just good enough, will knock on the gates of heaven and enter, pointing to our good deeds on earth. Except these are all false gods, too. It is God who provides for us. It is God who gives us the gifts, talents, and capability to accomplish what we do. It is God, in Christ Jesus, who makes us good enough, not anything we do.
With all of these unknown gods, I am left pondering the mystery this week: who is my unknown god?
What is most profound about this sermon in Acts is that it shows that the gospel, the good news about Jesus Christ, is meaningless if it doesn't speak to the culture. Each week millions of Christians confess our faith with the words of the Creeds, first written around 325 CE. However it is not the words themselves that are good news, it is the message about God's salvation through Jesus Christ and the life that enables followers of Christ to live.
The mysteries in this week's text are rather profound, I think. I am left wondering, where is our present day Areopagus? What or who is our unknown god? Lastly, and perhaps most importantly, how do we proclaim the message of the gospel in a way that makes sense and connects with people in our world? I often think of sports as a god. People buy special clothes, devote hours to practice and games, spend hundreds on tickets and admission fees, and very often sports are a higher priority than other things. I think of family as a god. Family events and needs are often a higher priority than other things in life, and we worship children, siblings, spouses, or parents to the point that it is more important to please them than to please God. I think of consumerism as a god. We tend to our belongings, unfortunately as a society living on 125% of our income, and our possessions become our god. There are others, too. Hobbies, work, exercise, anything can become our god.
My sense is, however, that we simply use these things (sports, family, possessions, etc) to try to satisfy in us our deepest needs of belonging, being loved, accepted, and having purpose. Except in the end, where are sports, family, and possessions? Your team will go on playing whether you're there to watch/participate. Your family, though sad, will continue living after you're gone. I've never seen a hearse pulling a U-Haul, and your possessions will be sold, thrown, or given away.
Just as the Athenians worshiped the 'unknown god' we also worship our gods, but in the end, these gods fail us. Thankfully Paul reminds us that the unknown god is in actuality the God who made the world and everything in it, who gives to all mortals life and breath and all things, who commands all people everywhere to repent, because the world will be judged in righteousness by Jesus Christ, whom God has raised from the dead. It is this last part, this 'being raised from the dead' that is the most scandalous to the Greeks, who viewed the body as something to be overcome, and death was the only way in which to ultimately overcome the body. Jesus' death and resurrection is also scandalous in our own culture, though for different reasons.
In a world that thinks we are completely self-sufficient, having to rely on someone who lived 2000 years ago seems preposterous. We are the ones who provide for our own families. We are the ones who accomplish all that we do in our lives. We are the ones who, if we are just good enough, will knock on the gates of heaven and enter, pointing to our good deeds on earth. Except these are all false gods, too. It is God who provides for us. It is God who gives us the gifts, talents, and capability to accomplish what we do. It is God, in Christ Jesus, who makes us good enough, not anything we do.
With all of these unknown gods, I am left pondering the mystery this week: who is my unknown god?
19 May 2011
Greater works than his?!?
Our gospel lesson for Sunday includes the well known verse, "[Jesus said] I am the way, the truth, and the life." John 14.1-14 is about so much more than just the uniqueness of Jesus as our way for salvation. This text is rich with images like Jesus preparing a place for us in God's house, or like Jesus as the one who reveals God the father to us. The part that amazes me is when Jesus says, "Very truly, I tell you, the one who believes in me will also do the works that I do and, in fact, will do greater works than these, because I am going to the Father." (Now we have to remember that in John's gospel this conversation takes place on Jesus' last night with his disciples. He has not yet been crucified or resurrected, which is why he said, "I am going to the Father.")
Greater works than these?!?
Jesus has done some amazing works up to this point. He changed vast amounts of water into fine wine, told complete strangers their life story, raised dead people to life, healed the blind and sick, fed multitudes with a meager amount of food, shared the good news that he has come to save the world, and many other works. And yet, Jesus says, we will do even greater works than these if we believe in him.
It used to be that I didn't believe that statement. Reality more often tells us the opposite, but then I got to thinking. We heal people, too. If it weren't for modern medicine, I probably would have died in my youth from severe asthma. Walking into the Mayo clinic, is like walking into a building of miracles as chemotherapy, surgeries, and other treatments make people physically well every day. We feed, clothe, educate, and advocate for people - as a congregation part of our money goes to the synod, and from the synod we are blessed to be able to give $1.5 million to our national church organization which funds many ministries (click here to read stories about our faith in action). Locally at St. John, we do amazing works each and every day. All of you in your daily lives live out your faith, sharing the good news about Jesus with others, and as a result we have experienced some amazing growth in the last few months. We are able to teach our children about Jesus and his love for us, we are able to be in the community serving and showing compassion to others.
Yes, I am convinced that Jesus empowers us to do greater works than these, with the help of the Holy Spirit, of course. And yet, even though I have seen it time and time again, it still remains a mystery. Jesus loves us and trusts us enough to carry on his mission? We really can do greater works than his?!?
Greater works than these?!?
Jesus has done some amazing works up to this point. He changed vast amounts of water into fine wine, told complete strangers their life story, raised dead people to life, healed the blind and sick, fed multitudes with a meager amount of food, shared the good news that he has come to save the world, and many other works. And yet, Jesus says, we will do even greater works than these if we believe in him.
It used to be that I didn't believe that statement. Reality more often tells us the opposite, but then I got to thinking. We heal people, too. If it weren't for modern medicine, I probably would have died in my youth from severe asthma. Walking into the Mayo clinic, is like walking into a building of miracles as chemotherapy, surgeries, and other treatments make people physically well every day. We feed, clothe, educate, and advocate for people - as a congregation part of our money goes to the synod, and from the synod we are blessed to be able to give $1.5 million to our national church organization which funds many ministries (click here to read stories about our faith in action). Locally at St. John, we do amazing works each and every day. All of you in your daily lives live out your faith, sharing the good news about Jesus with others, and as a result we have experienced some amazing growth in the last few months. We are able to teach our children about Jesus and his love for us, we are able to be in the community serving and showing compassion to others.
Yes, I am convinced that Jesus empowers us to do greater works than these, with the help of the Holy Spirit, of course. And yet, even though I have seen it time and time again, it still remains a mystery. Jesus loves us and trusts us enough to carry on his mission? We really can do greater works than his?!?
11 May 2011
Whose voice do you hear?
No, I'm not suggesting we're all hearing voices in our head. The question is a real one: whose voice(s) do you hear and listen to? Whose opinions matter most? To whom do you go for advice or counsel? If you really stop to think about it, there are lots of voices out there, each trying to be louder than the other, and the messages those voices tell us aren't always the most helpful.
Think of the last commercial you saw. What is that voice telling you? Most likely the voice is telling you that your life won't be complete until you buy whatever product they're trying to sell you. Whether it's a car that will make you look good and will make your children behave, or whether it's a pair of shorts, or even the kind of trash bag you use, the voice is telling you that you're not quite good enough until you have their item. Or perhaps the voice you hear is the voice from the corporate world telling you that if you only work a little harder and spend less time with your family you will advance in your career and it will all be worth it when you get that pay raise.
In this week's gospel lesson, John 10.1-10, we hear Jesus tell his disciples that sheep will follow the voice of their shepherd because they recognize him when the shepherd calls them by name and leads them. I've always assumed that Jesus is talking about himself - that Jesus is the shepherd and he calls us by name. But the images are mixed because the disciples don't understand (and they're in good company, since I think these verses can be a bit confusing) and in the next breath Jesus is the gate. However, even with these mixed images, I have been thinking about the shepherd and the sheep. I often listen to many voices, the voices in books I read, the voices of colleagues, friends, and family, and sad as it is, even sometimes the voices of the advertisements. Those are often the first and loudest voices that I hear, but unfortunately they are not always the most helpful or healthy voices to listen to.
In this season of Easter as we remember that we are joined to Jesus' death and resurrection through our baptism, we also remember that Jesus' voice is important above all others. In the waters of baptism Jesus names and claims us, and speaks to us promises of resurrection and eternal life. These are promises that we are already good enough without the newest or latest fashions and gadgets. These are the promises that we are valuable no matter how many hours we work, or how productive that work is. These are the promises that no matter how many times we make mistakes or fail to do what is right, we are still God's children, called by name and loved regardless.
As you go about this week, I want you to take time to listen. Whose voice do you year?
Think of the last commercial you saw. What is that voice telling you? Most likely the voice is telling you that your life won't be complete until you buy whatever product they're trying to sell you. Whether it's a car that will make you look good and will make your children behave, or whether it's a pair of shorts, or even the kind of trash bag you use, the voice is telling you that you're not quite good enough until you have their item. Or perhaps the voice you hear is the voice from the corporate world telling you that if you only work a little harder and spend less time with your family you will advance in your career and it will all be worth it when you get that pay raise.
In this week's gospel lesson, John 10.1-10, we hear Jesus tell his disciples that sheep will follow the voice of their shepherd because they recognize him when the shepherd calls them by name and leads them. I've always assumed that Jesus is talking about himself - that Jesus is the shepherd and he calls us by name. But the images are mixed because the disciples don't understand (and they're in good company, since I think these verses can be a bit confusing) and in the next breath Jesus is the gate. However, even with these mixed images, I have been thinking about the shepherd and the sheep. I often listen to many voices, the voices in books I read, the voices of colleagues, friends, and family, and sad as it is, even sometimes the voices of the advertisements. Those are often the first and loudest voices that I hear, but unfortunately they are not always the most helpful or healthy voices to listen to.
In this season of Easter as we remember that we are joined to Jesus' death and resurrection through our baptism, we also remember that Jesus' voice is important above all others. In the waters of baptism Jesus names and claims us, and speaks to us promises of resurrection and eternal life. These are promises that we are already good enough without the newest or latest fashions and gadgets. These are the promises that we are valuable no matter how many hours we work, or how productive that work is. These are the promises that no matter how many times we make mistakes or fail to do what is right, we are still God's children, called by name and loved regardless.
As you go about this week, I want you to take time to listen. Whose voice do you year?
28 April 2011
Did Thomas expect Jesus to be there?
Christ is risen! Alleluia! We have made it through the through the journey of Lent, have been renewed and refreshed in the death and resurrection of Christ, and now we celebrate! Our gospel lesson for Sunday is from John 20.19-31 and also takes place a week after the resurrection. But instead of finding Jesus' disciples jubilant and celebratory in the triumph of Jesus Christ, we find a group of men (and maybe women) huddled together in a locked room because they were afraid. We have the benefit of 2000 years of history and story to rely on, and for us there is no physical danger of celebrating the risen Lord Jesus. It was not so for those early disciples, as Jesus' resurrection was a scandal to the utmost for both the Jewish leaders and the Roman empire. After all, ten of Jesus' disciples were killed for their belief in his resurrection.
So it is no surprise to find our disciples huddled together out of fear in a room. What is surprising, however, is that Jesus came and stood among them. It doesn't say he knocked on the door, it doesn't say he climbed through a window, it simply says, "Jesus came and stood among them and said, 'Peace be with you.'" Now, again, after 2000 years of stories about our risen Lord, it isn't really that surprising. After all, doesn't Jesus always come to meet us where we need him most? In our own locked rooms hiding in fear or anxiety of something? So after the disciples saw the Lord, it says they rejoiced. Except not all the disciples were present.
When the disciples began to spread the news that they had seen the risen Lord, Thomas, who for whatever reason wasn't in the room that day, didn't believe. Yet, despite his unbelief, he still hung around with the other disciples. Perhaps because they were his only friends (after living a rather nomadic life for 3 years it wouldn't have been surprising) or perhaps because he wanted to believe that they had seen Jesus. We don't really know why, but a week later the disciples were again gathered together. And again Jesus came and stood among them and said, 'Peace be with you.' Now, there are three things to notice here. First, the disciples have already started their weekly meetings around which our Christian worship is fashioned. Second, it gives no indication that the disciples expected or thought Jesus would show up again, but he did. Third, it gives no indication that Jesus thought Thomas would be there, but Jesus showed up anyway.
This is good news in so many ways. When we doubt or when we don't believe, Jesus shows up anyway. Thanks be to God and alleluia! Perhaps that is why the story was so powerful those first few centuries. Perhaps people were still surprised by Jesus' presence in their midst. When was the last time you were surprised? Or have we become so familiar with the story that we simply expect Jesus to show up? Or, is it rather, that we have been disappointed so many times over the years that we have stopped expecting Jesus to show up altogether? Perhaps while we know the story we think of it as just that: a story. We know what amazing things God does when we're not expecting it, so what could God do when we do expect something? Even though Jesus shows up regardless, the mystery remains: Did Thomas expect Jesus to be there??
So it is no surprise to find our disciples huddled together out of fear in a room. What is surprising, however, is that Jesus came and stood among them. It doesn't say he knocked on the door, it doesn't say he climbed through a window, it simply says, "Jesus came and stood among them and said, 'Peace be with you.'" Now, again, after 2000 years of stories about our risen Lord, it isn't really that surprising. After all, doesn't Jesus always come to meet us where we need him most? In our own locked rooms hiding in fear or anxiety of something? So after the disciples saw the Lord, it says they rejoiced. Except not all the disciples were present.
When the disciples began to spread the news that they had seen the risen Lord, Thomas, who for whatever reason wasn't in the room that day, didn't believe. Yet, despite his unbelief, he still hung around with the other disciples. Perhaps because they were his only friends (after living a rather nomadic life for 3 years it wouldn't have been surprising) or perhaps because he wanted to believe that they had seen Jesus. We don't really know why, but a week later the disciples were again gathered together. And again Jesus came and stood among them and said, 'Peace be with you.' Now, there are three things to notice here. First, the disciples have already started their weekly meetings around which our Christian worship is fashioned. Second, it gives no indication that the disciples expected or thought Jesus would show up again, but he did. Third, it gives no indication that Jesus thought Thomas would be there, but Jesus showed up anyway.
This is good news in so many ways. When we doubt or when we don't believe, Jesus shows up anyway. Thanks be to God and alleluia! Perhaps that is why the story was so powerful those first few centuries. Perhaps people were still surprised by Jesus' presence in their midst. When was the last time you were surprised? Or have we become so familiar with the story that we simply expect Jesus to show up? Or, is it rather, that we have been disappointed so many times over the years that we have stopped expecting Jesus to show up altogether? Perhaps while we know the story we think of it as just that: a story. We know what amazing things God does when we're not expecting it, so what could God do when we do expect something? Even though Jesus shows up regardless, the mystery remains: Did Thomas expect Jesus to be there??
02 March 2011
Mountain top mysteries
We are now finished with Jesus' Sermon on the Mount and are gearing up for the church's most important time of the year: Lent/Easter. We started off our church year with Advent, the awaiting of Christ's coming, and moved into Christmas and Epiphany, the seasons in which Christ came and was revealed as the light of the world. The pivotal moment in the turn from Epiphany to Lent is Transfiguration Sunday, and we read in Matthew 17.1-9 about Jesus' transfiguration before the disciples.
The context of our text in Matthew's gospel is as Jesus prepares to enter Jerusalem the final time. He has just explained to the disciples that if they want to become his followers they must deny themselves, take up their cross, and follow him. Then, six days later, Jesus took with him Peter, James, and John and they went up to the mountain. Peter, James, and John were privy to a foretaste of Jesus' glory at God's right hand - the majesty, honor, power, and shining brilliance of being God's son. They hear the voice of God just like at Jesus' baptism, and again, God is affirming Jesus' identity and mission. Except Jesus knew that it was not yet time for the glory. He knew that the glory he tasted could only come through the way of the cross, everything the exact opposite of the mountain top experience.
Mountain top experiences are some of the best experiences of a lifetime. You know, the ones where you feel literally on top of the world, and that nothing could get better than it is at that moment? I have had a few of those experiences and one of them was even on top of a mountain! In those moments, I have savored the sheer awesomeness of God and God's blessings. I have looked at a loved one with wonder and amazement that God loves me enough to give me wonderful relationships with others. I have thought about how small I am and how big the world and God are. Many thoughts and emotions go through one's mind during mountain top experiences. Except, just like Jesus knew he couldn't stay on the mountain, our mountain top experiences seem all too fleeting.
This text produces for us a lovely tension between the glory of God already revealed in Christ Jesus and the sin that invades our lives and reminds us that it is not yet time for the kingdom to be here in totality. Something inevitably happens, and like the prick of a pin to a blown-up balloon, our mountain top experience fades into the background, becoming a cherished memory to be relived in dreams and quiet moments. Sin, brokenness, and the way of the cross draw us back to a reality in which Christ is not yet revealed in his glory and we journey through faith with hope for a better tomorrow.
As we prepare to enter into the time of Lent, the journey to the cross, I invite you to live the mystery with me. How is it that God would love such a one as me? A sinner, broken and selfish for those glorious mountain top moments, putting me above anyone else? How is it that God would send Christ on his own journey to the cross, starting with such a tantalizing taste of the future, only to be rudely awakened to the violent reality of sin? Lastly, if Christ tells us to take up our own crosses and follow him, what is the cross I am called to carry?
The context of our text in Matthew's gospel is as Jesus prepares to enter Jerusalem the final time. He has just explained to the disciples that if they want to become his followers they must deny themselves, take up their cross, and follow him. Then, six days later, Jesus took with him Peter, James, and John and they went up to the mountain. Peter, James, and John were privy to a foretaste of Jesus' glory at God's right hand - the majesty, honor, power, and shining brilliance of being God's son. They hear the voice of God just like at Jesus' baptism, and again, God is affirming Jesus' identity and mission. Except Jesus knew that it was not yet time for the glory. He knew that the glory he tasted could only come through the way of the cross, everything the exact opposite of the mountain top experience.
Mountain top experiences are some of the best experiences of a lifetime. You know, the ones where you feel literally on top of the world, and that nothing could get better than it is at that moment? I have had a few of those experiences and one of them was even on top of a mountain! In those moments, I have savored the sheer awesomeness of God and God's blessings. I have looked at a loved one with wonder and amazement that God loves me enough to give me wonderful relationships with others. I have thought about how small I am and how big the world and God are. Many thoughts and emotions go through one's mind during mountain top experiences. Except, just like Jesus knew he couldn't stay on the mountain, our mountain top experiences seem all too fleeting.
This text produces for us a lovely tension between the glory of God already revealed in Christ Jesus and the sin that invades our lives and reminds us that it is not yet time for the kingdom to be here in totality. Something inevitably happens, and like the prick of a pin to a blown-up balloon, our mountain top experience fades into the background, becoming a cherished memory to be relived in dreams and quiet moments. Sin, brokenness, and the way of the cross draw us back to a reality in which Christ is not yet revealed in his glory and we journey through faith with hope for a better tomorrow.
As we prepare to enter into the time of Lent, the journey to the cross, I invite you to live the mystery with me. How is it that God would love such a one as me? A sinner, broken and selfish for those glorious mountain top moments, putting me above anyone else? How is it that God would send Christ on his own journey to the cross, starting with such a tantalizing taste of the future, only to be rudely awakened to the violent reality of sin? Lastly, if Christ tells us to take up our own crosses and follow him, what is the cross I am called to carry?
23 February 2011
What story does your checkbook tell?
Jesus' sermon on the mount continues this week from Matthew 6, as he talks about God's care for the sparrows of the fields and the lilies of the valleys. He reminds us that no one can serve two masters, for we will either hate the one or love the other. Jesus is explicitly talking about money in this passage, and he tells us not to worry about what we will eat or wear, for God provides.
One of my good friends and mentors once told me that a checkbook is a theological document - it tells the story of one's faith. Where do you spend your money? In what do you invest? These are first and foremost questions that deal with faith. Do you worry about money? Or do you worry about what you have or don't have? I remember when I was younger I thought I might die if I didn't get a pair of Guess jeans. Everybody was wearing them, but they were not something my family could afford. I remember thinking that other people would notice if I didn't wear this particular brand because it was 'cool'. In my adult life, it became not clothes as much, but decorating the house. Did our home meet the standards of the day?
There is a teaching that says income should be divided into 10, 10, 80. 10% is what you save each pay check, 10% is what you give away (also called tithing), and 80% is what you spend. One thing I am curious about, however, is who this formula serves? 90% of this goes for the self - retirement, food, clothing, shelter, transportation, entertainment...and only 10% goes to others. When Jesus tells us to seek first God's kingdom and its righteousness, I wonder if he only wanted us to seek it 10%? What would it look like, if instead of worrying about our retirement accounts we were worried about the people in Cedar Rapids who weren't eating dinner? What would it look like, if instead of worrying about securing our own financial well-being we were worried about that of our neighbors? What would be happening in Wisconsin if that were the case? Or Washington D.C.?
If Jesus was serious about money and not worrying, and sparrows work right up until they die, perhaps retirement is something we needn't worry ourselves with...maybe. It is just interesting to contemplate the meaning of Jesus' words. It also leaves me wondering, what story does your checkbook tell?
One of my good friends and mentors once told me that a checkbook is a theological document - it tells the story of one's faith. Where do you spend your money? In what do you invest? These are first and foremost questions that deal with faith. Do you worry about money? Or do you worry about what you have or don't have? I remember when I was younger I thought I might die if I didn't get a pair of Guess jeans. Everybody was wearing them, but they were not something my family could afford. I remember thinking that other people would notice if I didn't wear this particular brand because it was 'cool'. In my adult life, it became not clothes as much, but decorating the house. Did our home meet the standards of the day?
There is a teaching that says income should be divided into 10, 10, 80. 10% is what you save each pay check, 10% is what you give away (also called tithing), and 80% is what you spend. One thing I am curious about, however, is who this formula serves? 90% of this goes for the self - retirement, food, clothing, shelter, transportation, entertainment...and only 10% goes to others. When Jesus tells us to seek first God's kingdom and its righteousness, I wonder if he only wanted us to seek it 10%? What would it look like, if instead of worrying about our retirement accounts we were worried about the people in Cedar Rapids who weren't eating dinner? What would it look like, if instead of worrying about securing our own financial well-being we were worried about that of our neighbors? What would be happening in Wisconsin if that were the case? Or Washington D.C.?
If Jesus was serious about money and not worrying, and sparrows work right up until they die, perhaps retirement is something we needn't worry ourselves with...maybe. It is just interesting to contemplate the meaning of Jesus' words. It also leaves me wondering, what story does your checkbook tell?
16 February 2011
How is your foundation?
This week we will hear more about Paul's letter to the early church in Corinth. We have been hearing from the first couple chapters the last few weeks, and thus far it has been obvious that Paul is writing to a church that is experiencing some conflict - over a lot of things. Recently we heard about the conflict over who started the church: Paul, Apollos, or Cephas? This week's reading is from 1 Corinthians 3.10-11, 16-23 and Paul goes into the foundation of the church, Christ. He very artfully says, "According to the grace of God given to me, like a skilled master builder I laid a foundation, and someone else is building on it. Each builder must choose with care how to build on it. For no one can lay any foundation other than the one that has been laid; that foundation is Jesus Christ." Paul was one of many builders in the church in Corinth and they had to carefully think and pray about how best to build the church.
I think Paul's letter could just as well have been written to St. John Lutheran in Ely, Iowa. Thankfully we are not experiencing conflict, but we are at a point where we need to be thinking about how to build Christ's church. God has blessed us and we are bursting at the seams - during worship, coffee hour, education hour, and during the week! What a wonderful dilemma to face! In 1854 a group of German and Czech immigrants started a new community of faith and called it St. John. With Christ as the foundation, our community has experienced several changes in the 157 years it has existed, and yet here we are! Precisely because Christ is the foundation upon which our community is built, it is able to withstand cultural, societal, and physical change.
When Paul tells the Corinthians that they are God's holy temple, he was talking to them as a community of faith, but I also think he was talking to them as individuals. You (fill in your name), are God's temple. When Christ is the foundation of your life, that temple is strong and sturdy, and your light shines for all to see! Paul goes on to say in his letter that everything in the world belongs to us, and we belong to Christ, and Christ belongs to God; therefore everything in the world belongs to God. How do we tend God's belongings? How do we steward (care for) God's gifts to us? Lastly, and the mystery for this week, how is your foundation?
I think Paul's letter could just as well have been written to St. John Lutheran in Ely, Iowa. Thankfully we are not experiencing conflict, but we are at a point where we need to be thinking about how to build Christ's church. God has blessed us and we are bursting at the seams - during worship, coffee hour, education hour, and during the week! What a wonderful dilemma to face! In 1854 a group of German and Czech immigrants started a new community of faith and called it St. John. With Christ as the foundation, our community has experienced several changes in the 157 years it has existed, and yet here we are! Precisely because Christ is the foundation upon which our community is built, it is able to withstand cultural, societal, and physical change.
When Paul tells the Corinthians that they are God's holy temple, he was talking to them as a community of faith, but I also think he was talking to them as individuals. You (fill in your name), are God's temple. When Christ is the foundation of your life, that temple is strong and sturdy, and your light shines for all to see! Paul goes on to say in his letter that everything in the world belongs to us, and we belong to Christ, and Christ belongs to God; therefore everything in the world belongs to God. How do we tend God's belongings? How do we steward (care for) God's gifts to us? Lastly, and the mystery for this week, how is your foundation?
09 February 2011
How does Christ make your journey different?
Jesus packs another wallop for us in this week's gospel lesson. We read from Matthew 5.21-37 this week, and it is a series of Jesus' teaching on anger, reconciliation, murder, lust, adultery, and swearing. Anger has suddenly escalated into murder. Lust has escalated into adultery and torn out eyes and cut off arms. Divorce becomes adultery, oaths become something from the evil one. To those who would say Christianity is all about rules, I think Jesus' teachings for today give a big boost to your side of the argument.
Right before Jesus begins this series of teachings, he says that unless our righteousness exceeds that of the Scribes and Pharisees (the best of the rule-keepers), we will not enter the kingdom of heaven. And then Jesus starts in today's lesson. He takes the rules that the Scribes and Pharisees know and he modifies them, re-interprets them into something totally different. You shall not murder. A pretty easy command to keep. Until Jesus reinterprets it to say that murder is anything that takes life - anger, insults, bad thoughts, and arguments. Yikes! I think even the Scribes and Pharisees would quake at this - who can live life never getting angry? Jesus himself became angry!
One of my colleagues said, "I wonder if Jesus is saying all this with his tongue planted firmly in his cheek." Is he making a point rather than being literal? After all, if we were to do what Jesus said shouldn't there be a lot more one-eyed, one-handed Christians running around? What man, after hearing that having lust for a woman is equivalent to adultery would then turn around and divorce his wife on the grounds of adultery? I saw a bumper sticker today that said, "Faith is a journey. Not a guilt trip."
Jesus' words can easily have us falling into a guilt trip - we just can't seem to follow the rules because as soon as we think we are following them, we find that we've been messing it up all along. Or maybe there's some sin that you continually struggle with. White lies, or overeating, or lust, or... But thankfully faith is a journey, and in Jesus' teachings, he is inviting us to come along with him. He is inviting us to a different way of life, one in which we rely on him instead of rules. One in which people are reconciled and live in community with one another. One in which no one is objectified, but all are seen as beloved creatures of God.
So if faith is a journey, I am left to ponder this mystery: How does Christ make your journey different?
Right before Jesus begins this series of teachings, he says that unless our righteousness exceeds that of the Scribes and Pharisees (the best of the rule-keepers), we will not enter the kingdom of heaven. And then Jesus starts in today's lesson. He takes the rules that the Scribes and Pharisees know and he modifies them, re-interprets them into something totally different. You shall not murder. A pretty easy command to keep. Until Jesus reinterprets it to say that murder is anything that takes life - anger, insults, bad thoughts, and arguments. Yikes! I think even the Scribes and Pharisees would quake at this - who can live life never getting angry? Jesus himself became angry!
One of my colleagues said, "I wonder if Jesus is saying all this with his tongue planted firmly in his cheek." Is he making a point rather than being literal? After all, if we were to do what Jesus said shouldn't there be a lot more one-eyed, one-handed Christians running around? What man, after hearing that having lust for a woman is equivalent to adultery would then turn around and divorce his wife on the grounds of adultery? I saw a bumper sticker today that said, "Faith is a journey. Not a guilt trip."
Jesus' words can easily have us falling into a guilt trip - we just can't seem to follow the rules because as soon as we think we are following them, we find that we've been messing it up all along. Or maybe there's some sin that you continually struggle with. White lies, or overeating, or lust, or... But thankfully faith is a journey, and in Jesus' teachings, he is inviting us to come along with him. He is inviting us to a different way of life, one in which we rely on him instead of rules. One in which people are reconciled and live in community with one another. One in which no one is objectified, but all are seen as beloved creatures of God.
So if faith is a journey, I am left to ponder this mystery: How does Christ make your journey different?
03 February 2011
Does salt lose its saltiness?
Our series on the Sermon on the Mount continues this week with three separate 'lessons' from Jesus. The first is from Matthew 5.13, "You are the salt of the earth," the second is Matthew 5.14-16, "You are the light of the world," and the third is Matthew 5.17-20, "[Jesus] has come not to abolish the law, but to fulfill." I think that we are fairly familiar with the first two sayings. Salt of the earth and light of the world are often used to describe Christians and the Church, in fact, we often refer to individuals as 'salt of the earth people.'
I am intrigued by Jesus' third saying. He says that he has not come to abolish the law, but to fulfill it. He then goes on to say, "therefore, whoever breaks one of the least of these commandments, and teaches others to do the same, will be called least in the kingdom of heaven; but whoever does them and teaches them will be called great in the kingdom of heaven. For I tell you, unless your righteousness exceeds that of the scribes and Pharisees, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven." I'm not sure about you, but in reading the law (often called the Torah or Pentateuch, they are the first five books of our Bible) we know that it is impossible to fulfill every letter of the law. The law was given as a gift to God's chosen people after God had already made the covenant with them. Staying in right relationship with God was dependent God's people being righteous - being who God created them to be. We know from reading time and time again in our Hebrew Bible that God's people could not be righteous and kept turning from God. So God in Jesus has fulfilled what we cannot: right and perfect relationship with God.
On the cross, Christ's righteousness becomes our own righteousness. It is, as Luther says, an alien righteousness, something given to us totally outside of ourselves. It is not anything we can earn or accept, but we can be only passive recipients of Christ's righteousness. With our righteousness being that of Christ’s, surely our righteousness will exceed that of the Pharisees and Scribes, as Jesus says in verse 20. What a gift! Because of Christ’s righteousness we are able to enter the kingdom of heaven – not only after death, but right now, in the present! God’s kingdom is here on earth in bits and pieces, and we are blessed to experience it every now and then. Right relationship with God, reconciliation with neighbor, living as salt and light, these are all signs of the kingdom come.
We give thanks for this alien righteousness, but it does leave me with the mystery: if Christ’s righteousness is our own righteousness, then how does salt lose its saltiness?
I am intrigued by Jesus' third saying. He says that he has not come to abolish the law, but to fulfill it. He then goes on to say, "therefore, whoever breaks one of the least of these commandments, and teaches others to do the same, will be called least in the kingdom of heaven; but whoever does them and teaches them will be called great in the kingdom of heaven. For I tell you, unless your righteousness exceeds that of the scribes and Pharisees, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven." I'm not sure about you, but in reading the law (often called the Torah or Pentateuch, they are the first five books of our Bible) we know that it is impossible to fulfill every letter of the law. The law was given as a gift to God's chosen people after God had already made the covenant with them. Staying in right relationship with God was dependent God's people being righteous - being who God created them to be. We know from reading time and time again in our Hebrew Bible that God's people could not be righteous and kept turning from God. So God in Jesus has fulfilled what we cannot: right and perfect relationship with God.
On the cross, Christ's righteousness becomes our own righteousness. It is, as Luther says, an alien righteousness, something given to us totally outside of ourselves. It is not anything we can earn or accept, but we can be only passive recipients of Christ's righteousness. With our righteousness being that of Christ’s, surely our righteousness will exceed that of the Pharisees and Scribes, as Jesus says in verse 20. What a gift! Because of Christ’s righteousness we are able to enter the kingdom of heaven – not only after death, but right now, in the present! God’s kingdom is here on earth in bits and pieces, and we are blessed to experience it every now and then. Right relationship with God, reconciliation with neighbor, living as salt and light, these are all signs of the kingdom come.
We give thanks for this alien righteousness, but it does leave me with the mystery: if Christ’s righteousness is our own righteousness, then how does salt lose its saltiness?
19 January 2011
How do you fish for people?
We are back in Matthew again this week, with yet another account of Jesus calling the disciples. If you recall from last week the two disciples followed Jesus, without being asked. Yet according to Matthew 4.12-23, Jesus is the one who called the disciples. They were just out, minding their own business, doing what it is they do every day - fishing.
These two guys probably woke up that morning, had their regular breakfast and routine, and went to work expecting just another day at the office - and it was anything but! That day Jesus happened to be walking by. When he saw them he gave them the command, "Follow me, and I will make you fish for people." Now if someone were to come along to me and say that I might look at them strangely, roll my eyes, and turn back to my work. Or, if I had wanted out of the family business for years and just needed the perfect excuse, I might do what these two brothers did: immediately they left their nets and followed Jesus. But the disciples reaction is neither here nor there.
What I am intrigued with is that Jesus takes two fishermen, (or four fishermen if you read the next verse) and not only does he affirm the way they make their living, Jesus transforms what they do during the day into ministry. Jesus doesn't say, "Hey, if you want to follow me you have to become carpenters." Jesus takes the two disciples, just as they are, with their own skills, gifts, and talents, and makes them see their jobs differently. Who knows? Maybe these disciples hated being fishermen. Maybe they hated coming home and smelling like fish, or living in a rotten, stinky boat all day. And Jesus can use them anyway!
Part of our mission statement here at St. John is to be a presence in the community. I've said it before, and I'll say it again: we already are a presence in the community. Each of us, every day when we go to work, the store, kids' practices/games, etc. We're already there! The key is to move from simply being in the community to being known in the community. Who bags your groceries? Who sells you your gas and other convenience store items? Who sits in the cube next to yours? Who answers the phones in your area? Delivers your mail? God is calling each of us, in whatever it is we do during the day, to be God's presence for others. To fish for people. Jesus invited the disciples to 'come and see' last week. Have you invited anyone to come and see?
Someone told me that I had to go see a movie the other day. Wouldn't it be a great witness if we invited people to come to worship the same way we invite people to see a movie? To tell them, "you just have to go see what God is doing in that place!"? God is calling you to ministry, each and every day, right where you are, doing what you are already doing. The mystery is, how do you fish for people?
These two guys probably woke up that morning, had their regular breakfast and routine, and went to work expecting just another day at the office - and it was anything but! That day Jesus happened to be walking by. When he saw them he gave them the command, "Follow me, and I will make you fish for people." Now if someone were to come along to me and say that I might look at them strangely, roll my eyes, and turn back to my work. Or, if I had wanted out of the family business for years and just needed the perfect excuse, I might do what these two brothers did: immediately they left their nets and followed Jesus. But the disciples reaction is neither here nor there.
What I am intrigued with is that Jesus takes two fishermen, (or four fishermen if you read the next verse) and not only does he affirm the way they make their living, Jesus transforms what they do during the day into ministry. Jesus doesn't say, "Hey, if you want to follow me you have to become carpenters." Jesus takes the two disciples, just as they are, with their own skills, gifts, and talents, and makes them see their jobs differently. Who knows? Maybe these disciples hated being fishermen. Maybe they hated coming home and smelling like fish, or living in a rotten, stinky boat all day. And Jesus can use them anyway!
Part of our mission statement here at St. John is to be a presence in the community. I've said it before, and I'll say it again: we already are a presence in the community. Each of us, every day when we go to work, the store, kids' practices/games, etc. We're already there! The key is to move from simply being in the community to being known in the community. Who bags your groceries? Who sells you your gas and other convenience store items? Who sits in the cube next to yours? Who answers the phones in your area? Delivers your mail? God is calling each of us, in whatever it is we do during the day, to be God's presence for others. To fish for people. Jesus invited the disciples to 'come and see' last week. Have you invited anyone to come and see?
Someone told me that I had to go see a movie the other day. Wouldn't it be a great witness if we invited people to come to worship the same way we invite people to see a movie? To tell them, "you just have to go see what God is doing in that place!"? God is calling you to ministry, each and every day, right where you are, doing what you are already doing. The mystery is, how do you fish for people?
12 January 2011
What are you seeking?
What are you seeking?
This is the question Jesus asks two of John the Baptist's disciples in Sunday's gospel lesson. We are in John's gospel this week, a gospel often thought of as more philosophical and theological than Matthew, Mark, or Luke (the three together are called the synoptic gospels). However, John also has amazing details that bring the stories back to earth, and part of our every day lives. The gospel lesson comes from John 1.29-42, and includes a second account of Jesus' baptism as well as John the Baptist continuing to point to Jesus as the Messiah, and in our lesson John refers to him as the "lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world". (Sound familiar? Those are the words of our 'Lamb of God' that we sing during communion each week.)
Shortly after John sees the Holy Spirit descent on Jesus (notice in John's gospel that John also sees the dove - in Matthew's gospel we read last week it is only Jesus who can see the dove and hear God's voice) Jesus passes by John and some of his disciples. John points to Jesus and two of the disciples follow Jesus. In a somewhat awkward encounter, Jesus turns to those disciples and poses the question: What are you looking for (seeking)? The disciples in a not-so-eloquent manner respond with their own question: Where are you staying? Then comes Jesus' famous response:
Come and see.
But Jesus doesn't just stop with the come and see. He also then invites the disciples to remain with him. Remain - this is the same word for abide, stay, or rest.
What strikes me about this encounter is that the disciples, either because they were startled by Jesus' question or simply because they didn't know, couldn't articulate what exactly it was they were seeking. Why were they following Jesus? What were they seeking? Hoping for? Looking for? But even though they couldn't put their finger on it, Jesus invites them to come, see, and abide with him. What are you seeking? Why are you a disciple of Christ? What are you looking for? Perhaps a little bit of peace in a world that seems lacking? Maybe a little bit of sanity in the craziness? Or is it a word of grace, reminding you that you are God's child, made in God's image, full of gifts and talents God is putting to use in the world?
Whatever it is, even if you don't know, the answer is found in Christ. In remaining in Christ, abiding in God, staying with the Holy Spirit. That is the grace of God. Providing for us even when we don't know exactly what it is that we need. Giving us salvation in the forgiveness of sins. Allowing us to live an abundant life (and perhaps we need to think about what it means when Jesus says that he gives us abundant life). The mystery is a hard one for me to answer, and it changes on a regular basis. But the mystery remains:
What are you seeking?
This is the question Jesus asks two of John the Baptist's disciples in Sunday's gospel lesson. We are in John's gospel this week, a gospel often thought of as more philosophical and theological than Matthew, Mark, or Luke (the three together are called the synoptic gospels). However, John also has amazing details that bring the stories back to earth, and part of our every day lives. The gospel lesson comes from John 1.29-42, and includes a second account of Jesus' baptism as well as John the Baptist continuing to point to Jesus as the Messiah, and in our lesson John refers to him as the "lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world". (Sound familiar? Those are the words of our 'Lamb of God' that we sing during communion each week.)
Shortly after John sees the Holy Spirit descent on Jesus (notice in John's gospel that John also sees the dove - in Matthew's gospel we read last week it is only Jesus who can see the dove and hear God's voice) Jesus passes by John and some of his disciples. John points to Jesus and two of the disciples follow Jesus. In a somewhat awkward encounter, Jesus turns to those disciples and poses the question: What are you looking for (seeking)? The disciples in a not-so-eloquent manner respond with their own question: Where are you staying? Then comes Jesus' famous response:
Come and see.
But Jesus doesn't just stop with the come and see. He also then invites the disciples to remain with him. Remain - this is the same word for abide, stay, or rest.
What strikes me about this encounter is that the disciples, either because they were startled by Jesus' question or simply because they didn't know, couldn't articulate what exactly it was they were seeking. Why were they following Jesus? What were they seeking? Hoping for? Looking for? But even though they couldn't put their finger on it, Jesus invites them to come, see, and abide with him. What are you seeking? Why are you a disciple of Christ? What are you looking for? Perhaps a little bit of peace in a world that seems lacking? Maybe a little bit of sanity in the craziness? Or is it a word of grace, reminding you that you are God's child, made in God's image, full of gifts and talents God is putting to use in the world?
Whatever it is, even if you don't know, the answer is found in Christ. In remaining in Christ, abiding in God, staying with the Holy Spirit. That is the grace of God. Providing for us even when we don't know exactly what it is that we need. Giving us salvation in the forgiveness of sins. Allowing us to live an abundant life (and perhaps we need to think about what it means when Jesus says that he gives us abundant life). The mystery is a hard one for me to answer, and it changes on a regular basis. But the mystery remains:
What are you seeking?
05 January 2011
Who has God created us to be?
Tomorrow we celebrate Epiphany, the manifestation of Christ as the savior to all nations. It is an action-packed day, and in some places it is a three-fold celebration: the epiphany of the magi and the adoration of Christ, the manifestation of Christ as the savior to all people, and some celebrate the baptism of Jesus on this day. We will celebrate the baptism of Jesus on Sunday morning.
The gospel text comes from Matthew 3.13-16 and is the Matthean account of Jesus' baptism. The question has been asked: Why did Jesus need to be baptized? If baptism is for the forgiveness of sins and Jesus was sinless then why did he need to be baptized? Well, according to Jesus it is to fulfill all righteousness (v. 15).
Oh. Well that clears it up!
To fulfill all righteousness? Righteousness is a theme in Matthew, beginning with the birth of Jesus when we find out that Joseph was a 'righteous man' (1.19). Jesus talks frequently about righteousness - but what is it? This is how a professor of mine explained it to me: Righteousness is like a mango tree. Mango trees exist to make mangoes for people to eat. If a mango tree doesn't do what it is created to do, then it is unrighteous. If a mango tree produced an apple for instance, it would be unrighteous. If a mango tree didn't produce any fruit, it would be unrighteous. A righteous mango tree is a mango tree that produces the most gorgeous, juicy, and delicious orange mangoes. So that when you are biting into that juicy, delicious mango, the only thought you have is: that is a righteous mango tree.
So righteousness is being who you were created to be. Jesus was created to be the savior of the nations, the light of the world, the righteousness of all people, the all in all. Jesus had to be baptized because he took on all of our sins. Because we can't be righteous (who God created us to be) by ourselves, we have to use Jesus' righteousness as our own. In baptism we are united with Christ, our sins are washed away, and his righteousness becomes our righteousness.
In the waters of baptism (which is a one-time event but an every day occurrence) we are made righteous so that we can be who God created us to be. So this week's text leaves me wondering: who has God created us to be?
The gospel text comes from Matthew 3.13-16 and is the Matthean account of Jesus' baptism. The question has been asked: Why did Jesus need to be baptized? If baptism is for the forgiveness of sins and Jesus was sinless then why did he need to be baptized? Well, according to Jesus it is to fulfill all righteousness (v. 15).
Oh. Well that clears it up!
To fulfill all righteousness? Righteousness is a theme in Matthew, beginning with the birth of Jesus when we find out that Joseph was a 'righteous man' (1.19). Jesus talks frequently about righteousness - but what is it? This is how a professor of mine explained it to me: Righteousness is like a mango tree. Mango trees exist to make mangoes for people to eat. If a mango tree doesn't do what it is created to do, then it is unrighteous. If a mango tree produced an apple for instance, it would be unrighteous. If a mango tree didn't produce any fruit, it would be unrighteous. A righteous mango tree is a mango tree that produces the most gorgeous, juicy, and delicious orange mangoes. So that when you are biting into that juicy, delicious mango, the only thought you have is: that is a righteous mango tree.
So righteousness is being who you were created to be. Jesus was created to be the savior of the nations, the light of the world, the righteousness of all people, the all in all. Jesus had to be baptized because he took on all of our sins. Because we can't be righteous (who God created us to be) by ourselves, we have to use Jesus' righteousness as our own. In baptism we are united with Christ, our sins are washed away, and his righteousness becomes our righteousness.
In the waters of baptism (which is a one-time event but an every day occurrence) we are made righteous so that we can be who God created us to be. So this week's text leaves me wondering: who has God created us to be?
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