What new thing will God do?

     "In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God and the Word was God."  This is the first verse of John's gospel, the reading we heard on Christmas day as well as the reading for this coming Sunday.  The Christmas carols have stopped playing on the radio.  The Christmas decorations in stores have been picked over at the after-Christmas sales and are starting to be replaced with Valentine's Day merchandise (yes, I saw cards and candy).  Homes are cleaning and tidying after presents were opened and families went home. It is difficult for us (at least for me) to remember that we are still in the Christmas season.  Today is the 5th day, the day of five golden rings, or the day that reminds us of the first five books of the bible called the "Pentateuch", or the "law". 
    In addition to the stores and the radio stations stopping with the Christmas celebrations the second we pass December 25, we also have our New Year's celebration smack dab in the middle of our Christmas season.  I often think back over the previous year with wonder and amazement.  Where did the time go?  How do you measure a year?  (The Rent song, "Seasons of Love" plays over in my head, sometimes annoyingly over and over...) I look forward to the next year with anticipation of what is in store.  And into this time of transition from one year to another we have the words from John's prologue.
    John's Christmas story is a short little verse, found in John 1.14 - "and the Word became flesh and lived among us..." God has entered our human story, incarnate in bone and flesh, cell and sinew.  God did something brand new - coming into the world in a way the world had never experienced God before.  God had most certainly been doing new things: creating the universe through the Word.  Creating light to shine in the darkness.  Calling John the Baptist to tell about Christ's coming so that the world might be ready.  Revealing all of God's grace and truth in a human being.  This is a text full of new things!
     From the very beginning God has been doing new things.  And God continues to do new things!  The Word did become incarnate in Jesus Christ, however the Word continues to become incarnate through God's children.  The Word becomes incarnate in you when you show love to another human being.  The Word becomes incarnate when we are God's presence in the community, when we nurture children in faith, when we provide a place to belong, when we show compassion to those in need.  The Word becomes incarnate when we point to God, as John pointed to Jesus.  The Word becomes incarnate when we show grace or mercy to others.  Looking back over the past year it is exciting to see how God became incarnate through you and through me.  It also makes me anticipate the great mystery of the next year:
What new thing will God do?

Christ is coming!?!?

     Christ is coming!!  An exclamation shouted out with joy because Christ is coming - that means hope, love, joy, peace, family, good food, presents, and warm fuzzies are also coming because baby Jesus is in a manger and what could be cuter than that?
     Christ is coming?? An interrogative barely whispered because Christ is coming - that means despair, hate, sadness, distress, broken relationships, hunger, poverty, and dread are also coming because Jesus Christ is on the cross and what could be more atrocious than that?
     We heard last Sunday that the hope, love, joy, and peace that Christ brings into the world are often found in the places we least expect them, like on the cross.  Which is why it is such an exciting thing to say, "Christ is coming!!"  But, if you're like me, you may look around and really truly wonder, "Christ is coming??"  How could God be here?  In the midst of the terrible suffering of people who not only suffered through an earthquake but now contracted cholera?  In the midst of terrified women and children who are trafficked across borders in exchange for drugs or money?  In the midst of broken systems and imperfect people and in the midst of kings who slaughter all the boys under age two? 
     Sunday's gospel lesson comes from Matthew 2.13-23 and includes the two verses called "The Massacre of the Infants".  Matthew's gospel tells quite a different story than the one we are used to hearing.  Instead of shepherds in the quiet night seeing angels proclaim Jesus' birth, we are told only that an angel came to Joseph and told him to marry Mary, who was pregnant, and to name the child Jesus.  The story goes on to tell us that when some magi came to King Herod (the regional king) where the king of the Jews had been born, for they had observed a star, he became afraid and killed all the boys under two.
    The king whose birth was announced to bring peace to earth in Luke's gospel is the same king whose birth announcement was a death sentence in Matthew's gospel.  While there is little historical evidence of the massacre actually happening, the truth of the story remains: Jesus' kingship was threatening to those in power, for, as Mary sang, "God humbles the proud but lifts up the lowly."
    These two accounts of Jesus' birth at first seem quite contrary.  One account of peace and harmony, one account of murder and discord.  I know that Christ has come to bring hope, love, joy, and peace.  In Matthew's gospel, however, Christ's coming seems to bring just the opposite.  So I am left wondering:
Perhaps the main reason for Christ's coming was not so that God would prevent bad things from happening - sin does, after all, seem to rule this earthly life.  Perhaps the main reason for Christ's coming was so that God would be with all of creation during times full of strife, war, hatred, violence, and suffering.  This is a mystery of faith, and because of faith I can still shout and proclaim with great joy and hope in God's future:  
Christ is coming!?!?

What are you waiting for?

     The second Sunday in Advent is the love Sunday and our Isaiah text is 11.1-10.  This chapter is the source of the well known wolf living with the lamb, the Peaceable Kingdom.  It is also the source of the prophecy of a leader who will come from the house of Jesse (King David's father) and who will be the leader of leaders, judging all with righteousness and equity. In addition to our Isaiah text, our Advent candle is the Love candle this week, after our hope candle last week.
     I'm not sure about your holiday traditions, but in my family we inevitably share stories from Christmases and times past.  We do this as a country as well, thinking about the 'good old days' when our economy was strong, shoppers were adorning the bottom of their Christmas trees with extravagant presents, and families were strong and together.  This is what the prophet Isaiah is getting at when he speaks of the stump of Jesse.  When Jesse's son David was king of Israel, all was well.  The country was unified, the military was strong and successful, and people were relatively faithful to God.  After David, however, the country started to go downhill, the economy was worsening, their military power was getting less, and then the country split in two.
     Isaiah is recalling the 'good old days' and foretelling of a time when a leader greater even than King David would come to rule.  Can you imagine the excitement?  The excitement of a leader, stronger, more powerful, more wise, and more faithful than even their best king, who would finally do right by Israel?  Except that king didn't come.  There was a new king shortly after Isaiah's prophecy, but he proved to be no better than the many who had come before him.  So Israel waited.  And waited.  Until, one day an angel appeared to a meek and lowly teenage girl and informed her that she would bear a son, God's son.  This king took Israel by surprise.  In fact, it was so much of a surprise that no one but lowly shepherds came to his birth.  Who would expect the best king Israel had seen to be born in a stable?  Who would expect God to show God's power through an infant - the meekest of all?
    And yet God's love is so great that God did exactly that. The ruler of the nations becoming an infant to save the world. Unfortunately even after Jesus came and died our world seems to be in shambles.  So we continue to wait for that leader who will come and bring everlasting peace.  We wait for that leader who will judge with righteousness and equity.  We wait and wait and wait to see God's love - in us, in others, in the meek and lowly of the earth.  We long for the day when peace will finally come and all will live together in harmony. Emmanuel - God with us - has come, is coming, and will come. We live now in the mystery of waiting, anticipating that glorious day of Emmanuel coming again to bring God's kingdom. For what are you most excited this Advent season?

What is God doing...today?

     We have begun the ascent toward Christ the King Sunday, the last Sunday in the church calendar.  At this time each year the texts turn toward Christ's second coming, or the eschaton in church language.  Sunday's gospel lesson is from Luke 21.5-19.  Jesus is in the temple - there are people trying to arrest him, he is being questioned about marriage after death, about his identity, and he publicly denounces the Scribes.  And then Jesus witnesses rich and poor putting money in the offering and announces that the widow's two copper coins are of more worth than the rich people's - because she gave out of her poverty.  And then we get to our text.
     Jesus tells all those around him that the temple will be destroyed - and they are afraid!  So they ask how they will know.  Jesus tells them that there will be wars, they will be persecuted, there will be earthquakes, famines, but before all that happens they will be persecuted and hated because of Jesus.  Yet, Jesus tells us, that not even a hair on our head will perish.  This seems a little scary, to say the least, but by the time Luke was written the temple had already been destroyed.  Those who were reading Luke were also reading the sequel: The Acts of the Apostles.  There are a lot of people who, like these early apostles, think that Christ's return is imminent.  There are books, radio and tv shows, blogs, and movies who claim to know when the end will come.
     However, when all of our focus is on the future and what will come, we miss the joys and gifts that God gives to us in the here and now.  We miss God's presence in the person walking by the restaurant.  We miss God's presence in the exciting football game.  We miss God's presence in our loved ones.  We miss God's presence in us.  It might be easy to say that God wasn't there, or that God didn't pull through.  But is it really that way?  Or did we, in our human-sightedness, simply forget to look?  Which leads me to ponder...
What is God doing today?

How is God connecting with you?

     November 1 is All Saints Day, the day in which we celebrate the lives of all the saints - past, present, and future.  I will be remembering my friend and brother from seminary, Ben, who died in the earthquake in Haiti last January.  I will also be giving thanks for my niece, my God-daughter who was baptized last winter.  And then there is the Communion of Saints, for which I am ever so thankful.  People whose voices have uttered prayers, disappointments, Creeds, joys, and praise over the last few thousand years.  Can you imagine?  All of us united in the mystical union of the body of Christ?
     Our gospel text for Sunday is the Sermon on the Plain, Luke 6.20-31.  Blessed are the poor, the hungry, and those who mourn.  Cursed are the rich, the satisfied, the joyous.  Well, that makes me feel really comforted.  (Please note the sarcasm.)  I consider myself to be rich, I always have enough to eat even if I think I will starve without my afternoon snack, and, for the most part, I have not endured much hardship, suffering, or mourning in my life.  Great. So is there good news in this?  Or is this only a word of condemnation to us who are rich and never hungry?  Fortunately, God's Word is simultaneously law and gospel, so there is most certainly good news here for us.  And this is what I think it is:
     Based on my experience in Guatemala, parts of Cedar Rapids, and from the stories in Haiti, people who are poor, hungry, and suffering tend to rely on God and each other way more than do people who are rich and full.  In Guatemala people share their food, even if that means they personally will have to eat less.  They share resources among households and communities like nothing I've ever seen - children at school even share paper and pencils.  (Try to imagine that happening here!)  The acronym FROG comes to mind, "Fully Rely On God."  There is most certainly blessing in that.  There is also hope because, like the story of "Stone Soup" when the community comes together there is more.  Use the term synergy, if you like.
     Based on my experience living, people who are rich, full, and relatively not suffering tend to rely on themselves more than people who are poor and hungry.  Isn't that how the Mid-West was settled?  People who relied on themselves, pulled themselves up by their own bootstraps?  That mentality is ingrained in us, we are born programmed to believe we can do it by ourselves.  There is most certainly curses in that.  It's not totally bad, but we are simply not programmed to do stuff ourselves.  Alone.  All the time.  We were created for community.
     Perhaps Jesus meant that the rich would be come poor - poor in relationships.  Perhaps Jesus meant that the full would be hungry - hungry for meaning in life.  Perhaps Jesus meant that the joyful would mourn - mourn that they feel so alone.  We are all one community of saints, connected to every other person in the world by the power of God.  God holds us all together, keeps us going, and yes, desires to be in relationship with us.  Desires for us to be in relationship with each other.  That is what the communion of saints is about.  Thanks be to God for this wonderful communion.  As we celebrate the saints this Sunday, we can ponder:
How is God connecting with you? 

For what is God setting you free?

     This Sunday is Reformation Sunday: the day we celebrate Martin Luther's choice to use his freedom in Christ for spreading the gospel of salvation by grace through faith, a heritage to which we cling with all our might.  The gospel lesson is John 8.31-36 and begins thus, "Jesus said, 'If you continue in my word you are truly my disciples; and you shall know the truth and the truth will make you free'."
     This beautiful, priceless truth of which Jesus speaks is that in him we have eternal life.  Now there are many manifestations of that eternal life here on earth, some of which include reconciliation when brokenness invades, freedom from all that binds us, meaningful community and communion with God and others, and so on.  You can fill in that blank.  I think that, for the most part, we have come to understand the salvation by grace through faith in Christ over the last 500 years.  However, I think that on this Reformation Sunday God is calling for yet another transformation. 
     We seem to have forgotten that our freedom in Christ isn't a gift given to us primarily for our own sake.  It is a wonderful gift, and I give thanks to God each day for it, but the freedom given to us in Christ is so that we can love and serve the neighbor.  The mission statement of St. John says: We confess Jesus Christ as Lord and Savior and conform our lives to his by: being a presence in the community, nurturing children in the faith, providing a place to belong, showing compassion to those in need.  As I was in discussion this week about being a 'true disciple' I was struck by something.

The primary place where our mission statement is done is outside of the four walls of our church building.

We are already in the community each and every day as we live our lives - going to school, going to work, chauffeuring our children to their activities (4-H, Boy Scouts, sports, etc), interacting with the other parent-chauffeurs.  We are already nurturing our children in the faith - when we pray every day, when we talk about God, when we open the Scriptures and read.  We are already providing a place to belong - when you invite the new person on the block for dinner, when you open your house as a safe place for the neighborhood kids to congregate.  We are already showing compassion for those in need - volunteering in the community, giving money and resources to organizations other than church.
     The transformation I think Christ is calling us to is a transformation of how we define ministry and disciple.  All of this is, of course, centered on the one who sets us free, and in the coming together in meaningful community to celebrate the Word and Sacraments.  In that celebration, in hearing the word and eating at the Lord's table, we are not only re-formed into the voice, hands, and feet of Christ, but we are also transformed into the true disciples who then go out to do ministry every day.
   Yes, we have been set free.  Yes!  Hurray!  But now the real transformation begins so that we are Christ for the world, doing ministry every day, every moment.  For what have you been transformed?  For what is God setting you free?

How is God calling us to meaningful community?

     After hearing a parable about a widow who persistently goes to the unjust judge, we hear a parable about two people praying at the temple in Luke 18.9-14.  These parables are told sequentially, and they are both about prayer...or are they?  There are two characters in this week's parable: a Pharisee and a tax collector.  To help you get the picture that Jesus' hearers would have had I want you to think of the someone you look up to as a Christian (Pharisee) and someone you most despise from the money scandals we've been having (tax collector).  For me, I think of my mom when it comes to the picture of what it means to be a disciple - she is disciplined in her study of scriptures, prayer, and her relationship with God in Christ is one of the strongest I know.  And perhaps for the scandals...Bernie Madoff.  (I am torn on this one first because there are so many names and second because I'm not sure how I feel about Christian organizations investing billions of dollars.)  Anyway, here's the kicker: Jesus says that Bernie Madoff is the one who goes home justified and my mom isn't.  WHAT??  I'm sorry Jesus, but are you sure? 
     People would have been shocked to hear Jesus tell this parable.  Now my own examples are no commentary on my mom's prayer life, because I know she doesn't pray as the Pharisee did, it was just to help us enter the shocking nature of the parable.  So, what is Jesus getting at here?
     Think of a time when you have really not wanted to go to worship on a Sunday morning.  Maybe you were tired and just wanted rest.  Maybe you had a busy Sunday and it was just one more thing.  But maybe it was something bigger.  You had just had some testing done and didn't want to talk about it.  Something had happened in your life and you were worried about what people would say or think about you.  The tax collector knew what people thought of him.  I think that is why he was "standing far off" because he didn't want to face other people.
     Now, think of the people whom you haven't seen in worship for a while.  You may look around on Sunday morning and think, "I haven't seen ________ for a few weeks," and the thought flits away.  I'm wondering how this text is calling us to get over ourselves, to get over our need for church to be nice, neat, and tidy.  All to often we do come to worship, sit in the pew, and keep all of our troubles to ourselves because we are afraid of what people will think if we admit we don't have it all together.  But it is precisely in this not having it together that God meets us and begins to transform us.
     What would it look like if a community of believers was able to be honest and open?  What if we shared our struggles, triumphs, sorrows, and joys?  God is calling us to meaningful community centered in Christ, a place where people are welcome and feel safe enough to share real life.  What if the Pharisee in the parable went far off to pray along side the tax collector?  How is God calling us to be meaningful community?

How is God persistent in your life?

     This week's gospel lesson comes from Luke 18.1-8.  It is the parable of the unjust judge and the persistent widow.  It is a very well known text about the widow who keeps coming to the judge every day until the judge finally gives her what she wants because she is pestering him so much.  The 'moral of the story' has traditionally been that we need to pray persistently, just like the widow, and when Jesus comes back he will find faith on earth (in reference to verse 8).  However, I always get suspicious when the text tells me why Jesus is doing something.
     In the very first verse the author of Luke tells us that Jesus is telling this parable, "for their need to pray and not lose heart."  While that is a very good reason, I wonder how the author knows the motives behind Jesus' parable?  I also wonder, if we take this parable as it has been traditionally interpreted, if this is the kind of God we want?  The judge finally gives the persistent widow what she wants, much like a slot machine; you put enough coins in, you get some coins out.  Is that really the way God works?  We hear stories of people's persistence, much like the persistence of the miners in Chile, and when everything comes out fine we say it was because of their persistent prayer.  But when we pray persistently and things don't work out the way we think they should...  While I acknowledge the need to pray and not lose heart, I think we miss out on the richness of the parable if we stop there.
     What if we were to reverse the roles?  What if God is represented by the persistent widow and we are the unjust judge?  God comes to us in the one who is marginalized and presses persistently, asking us to do justice - for God's sake, not ours.  Do we not often have hard hearts and turn from justice?  Do we not often grudgingly do what is right?  And yet God never gives up.  It is a mutual relationship, one in which both we and God play a role.  We pray persistently.  We ask for faith, give praise, confess our sins, and God comes to us, gently yet persistently giving life, sustaining, blessing.  If God is the persistent widow, I wonder: How has God been persistent with me?  With you?

How is God making me well?

Sunday's text continues where we left off in Luke - Luke 17.11-19.  It is the story of the healing of 10 people with leprosy.  As I was thinking about this text this morning in the shower I had an epiphany of sorts.  (Interestingly a lot of my epiphany's happen in the shower.  I suspect it has something to do with the water flowing over my head and its link to baptism.)

So the text starts and Jesus is on his way to Jerusalem, passing through another town.  In this town there happens to be a group of lepers crying out, "Jesus, Master, have mercy on us!"  They encounter Jesus who first speaks to them, heals them, and then, after the one returned to give thanks, sent him on his way.

The epiphany went something like this: Isn't that what we do every Sunday in worship?!?!

We come to worship and begin with our kyrie, crying out to God in a loud voice, "Jesus, Master, have mercy on us!"  We then encounter Christ in the hearing of the Word - in scripture and sermon, and then again at the table where we partake of Christ's body and blood.  It is in these encounters that Christ heals us.

And this is where it gets a little murky for me.  Christ healed all 10 lepers, but only the one returned to give thanks to him.  What makes the one who returned different?  Do Christ's words, "get up and go on your way; your faith has made you well," imply that being healed and being made well are two different things?  And how does the man's faith play a role in his returning and giving thanks?

All of these questions about faith and healing have me wondering: How is God making me well?

More faith, please?

     This week's sermon text is Luke 17.5-10.  It is the second half of a collection of 'sayings of Jesus' as the Biblical scholars titled the section.  Why the lectionary skipped the first five verses is a mystery to me, because it seems to me that we need them to understand the last five.  Of course without the first five it makes preaching easier (for instance verse 2 when Jesus says, "It would be better for you if a millstone were hung around your neck and you were thrown into the sea than for you to cause one of these little ones to stumble") and there is the argument that if this is just a collection of sayings then perhaps there isn't any connection between them.
     However, as I often do, I argue with the scholars that they are connected.  Particularly verses 3-4.  Jesus has just told the disciples that they are to forgive anyone who sins but is repentant.  Even if that same person commits the same sin seven times in one day.  While I would like to say that I have a ready supply of forgiveness, I think it would be difficult for me to do that.  I think the disciples were a little frightened by it to, for they immediately responded, "Lord, increase our faith!"  Who has the strength to do that?!?
    Although, as I ponder this forgiveness thing, I wonder...  We as Christians are really pretty good at forgiving others in comparison with forgiving ourselves.  There are a lot of jokes about "Lutheran guilt" or some I have heard regarding "Roman Catholic guilt" but there is no denying that we tend to beat ourselves up over stuff.  Sometimes carrying around guilt for a particular sin for a very long time.  And it impedes our experiencing God's grace and forgiveness.  It impedes upon our living life as God intended. 
    I think this is clear toward the end of the lesson, in verse 7, "Who among you would say to your slave who has just come in...from the field, 'Come here at once and take your place at the table?'"  If you remember back to the parable of the lost sheep, Jesus started his ridiculous question the same way, "Who among you, having lost one sheep..."  When I read that parable my immediate response was, "not me!"  However, reading verses 7-10 I didn't have the same reaction.  I agreed with Jesus when he said in 8, "Would you not rather say to him, 'Prepare supper for me, put on your apron and serve me...later you may eat and drink.'"
    But I wonder if Jesus is being sarcastic here.  We aren't very good at forgiving ourselves.  We aren't very good at receiving God's grace.  What if Jesus is the slave owner in verse 7.  Doesn't he bid us to come and eat at the table with him?  As equal sons and daughters of God?  When it comes to forgiveness of self, of having the faith to believe that God does actually invite us to the table as equals with Christ, clothed in his righteousness, I often find myself lacking.  Do you really want me to come eat with you?  Don't you want me to do a little more for you, so that I may be worthy God?
    God just bids us to come, sit, and dine with the Living Trinity, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.  In Jesus' response to the disciples' plea for more faith, I think he is telling them that they already have enough faith.  Faith comes from God, and is it not possible for God to uproot a mulberry tree and plant it in the sea?  God has given us all the faith we need.  In that faith, and through Christ, God invites us to the table, equal co-workers, nothing owed.  What a radical gospel.

How thin is the great chasm?

     The gospel lesson for this Sunday is from Luke 16.19-31.  It is the story of the rich man and Lazarus, one that is very familiar with many.  As I was in conversation with colleagues this week, I heard some reminisce about how they heard this story growing up.
     Some said that they remember this being a very scary passage because of the burning torment that the rich man feels.  Some said that they think about what 'rich' means when they hear about being dressed in purple and eating sumptuously.  Some said they wonder if cremation is better since the rich man was buried and Lazarus was 'carried to Abraham's bosom.'  There is a lot to wonder about in this text, but before we get to even more mysteries I'd like to make a few observations:
1) Names.  It is interesting that the one in the story who is named is Lazarus, the poor man who was thrown in front of this gate, whose sores are licked by dogs.  The rich man, the one with the power and wealth, is not even deemed important enough to get a name.
2) Blessings.  The text suggests in verse 25 that material blessings in life have nothing to do with blessings in eternity.  It also suggests that the blessings given in life have nothing to do with the nature of the person receiving them.  It would seem from Abraham's response to the rich man's request for Lazarus to dip his finger in water that could Lazarus have done so, he would have done it, regardless of how the rich man had treated him during their lifetime.  ("Besides all this, between you and us a great chasm has been fixed, so that those who might want to pass from here to you cannot do so... verse 26)
3) Power.  Even after death the rich man, who is in a place of torment, wants to use the power he enjoyed during his life to make others, who are below him, work for him.  The rich man doesn't ask Lazarus directly, but instead asks Abraham.
4) Death.  When the rich man finally realizes that his 'fate is sealed', so to speak, he begs Abraham to send Lazarus to his brothers.  Again, he is attempting to use his power, which he no longer has.  And, perhaps a little coldly, Abraham tells the rich man that his brothers have the law and the prophets to guide them and that is sufficient.  Even if someone came back from the dead they wouldn't be persuaded to repent.

     These observations have left me with one mystery above all others.  How thin is the great chasm that separated the rich man and Lazarus?  Perhaps as thin as the front gate near which Lazarus lay??  While Abraham mentioned that the rich man and his brothers all had the law and the prophets to guide them and their actions in terms of justice for the poor, he conspicuously left out the fact that the whole family had Lazarus as a living reminder of what the law and prophets said.  Each day when these brothers left their home they passed by, or perhaps even had to step over Lazarus.  Yet they didn't see.  The chasm that kept the brothers from seeing and understanding that they did have power, but they weren't using that power correctly.  Instead of using their power to be good stewards of their money and care for the poor, they used their power for their own selfish gains, feasting sumptuously and dressing in fine clothes for others to see.  Who do we walk by or step over on our way to use our own wealth and power for selfish gain instead of serving those in need? 
     One thing we do have going for us is that Abraham was also not quite right in his statement that, "If they do not listen to Moses and the prophets, neither will they be convinced even if someone rises from the dead," in verse 31.  You see, we have Moses, the prophets, and the one whom death could not hold, Jesus Christ.  The power that Christ has over the grave is the same power that Christ can use to free us from our own greed, open our eyes, and help us to see those who sit at our gates, poor, hungry, and sick.  How thin is your great chasm?

Genetics?

Genetics is a not-so-new field of science that is rapidly advancing.  The Evangelical Lutheran Church in America (ELCA) has decided to write a social statement on genetics, pondering questions and mysteries surrounding "contemporary developments in genetic research, technology and their use".  The task force commissioned to write the social statement is asking for feedback until October 15th.  Please take time to read the social statement and fill out the response form found at the end of the draft.  The social statement can be downloaded by clicking on the following link:
www.elca.org/genetics
And then "Draft Social Statement on Genetics"

How can we continue to live faithfully with all the mysteries surrounding genetics??

You want us to make friends using laundered money?!?

     Jesus has given us another doozy of a parable.  Luke 16.1-13 is called the Parable of the Dishonest Manager.  And Jesus tells us to make friends for ourselves by means of dishonest wealth.  Really?  Are you sure, Jesus?  Well, this one is truly a mystery to me.  It is difficult to read this parable allegorically, that is, making one of the characters into God or Jesus and figure out how they relate to us.  It is difficult to read this metaphorically, since the parable is obviously about wealth, as Jesus so nicely concludes for us in verse 13, "You cannot serve God and wealth."
     So, how on earth are we supposed to read this parable?  A wealthy landowner has hired someone to manage his property in absentia.  The manager uses the opportunity of the landowner's absence to make a little money for himself, perhaps charging the debtors more than they owe, or perhaps skimming off the top of the landowner's earnings.  We aren't really sure exactly if the allegations are true, except then the manager shows us who he is.  When he finds out he is going to be fired and realizes he can't work and is too proud to beg, he decides his best option is to make friends with the debtors.  That way he will have some sort of support system after he is no longer earning a paycheck.  So he swindles the landowner yet again.  Strange... And even stranger, the landowner commends the manager.  Stranger..... And strangest of all, then Jesus says we should act like the manager.
     Now I'm totally confused and trying to live in this mystery.  I'd be especially curious to know what you think.  Bishop Burk said yesterday that he is thinking of this parable in terms of relationship.  The manager's relationship with money cost him in the end, caused him to lose his job and reputation.  So, he worked at building different relationships with people who were lower on the social ladder than him.  In working at these relationships, the manager not only looked out for himself (ensuring those he helped would welcome into their homes) but he also looked out for them (significantly decreasing their debt).
     Perhaps it is this simultaneous caring for oneself while caring for others that is at the heart of this parable?  Kind of like a skewed version of the Golden Rule?  Or maybe it is best to leave this as a mystery and focus on the last part, "You can't serve God and wealth"?  This parable is indeed a mystery to me.  Who is this God of ours, who commends the dishonest manager?  Who is this God who tells us to get friends using dishonest wealth?!?

What is just one sheep?

        I lost one of my favorite lapel pins a few months ago.  (Well, first I should say that it isn't really my pin to begin with, it is a tie tack that I commandeered from my husband.  He received it as a confirmation gift but in the nine years we've been together I've never seen him wear it.  Granted I have had it in my own jewelry box for the last two, but I think the seven previous were good enough!)  Anyway, it is a dove with a cross, the Holy Spirit and Christ.  I used to wear it when I preached, or when I was doing something official as a seminarian.  Then one day, I couldn't find it. 
        I didn't have a lot of time to look and thought I must have left it at school.  When I got to school I looked and still couldn't find it, so I tore my dorm room to pieces, literally, taking apart my bed, dresser, and computer desk looking for it.  Not there.  When I got home that week I tore the house apart, taking every shirt out of the closet and drawers looking to see if I'd left it on something I wore.  I took all the clothes out of the rest of my drawers, in case in one of my senior moments I'd put it somewhere it doesn't belong.  (I do that more than I'd like to admit.)  Checked every single suitcase, even if I hadn't used it in over a couple years.  The washer and dryer.  The vent grates.  I said a prayer and asked St. Anthony of Padua, the Roman Catholic patron saint of lost items, to intercede for me.  Praying to the saints is not something I do on a regular basis, and I did it because a priest friend of mine suggested it.  I was desperate.  And then I remembered I'd gone through my jewelry and given some away to Goodwill.  What if I accidentally put it in that pile?!?  It was gone.  Just gone.  I'd given up.  I hadn't looked for it in over two months because one of the definitions of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results.  It was simply gone. 
       And then?  Praise be to God!  I got a sweater out to wear and there it was!  I know I looked at that sweater a million times when I was looking but there it was!  I raced downstairs shouting Russ' name ecstatically jumping up and down holding this pin like a precious trophy, rejoicing that I had found it!  And just in time for my ordination!  Double bonus!  Triple bonus because I had counted it as lost!  Quadruple bonus because it meant that I hadn't really lost my pin that is actually Russ' tie tack and that he's never officially said I could have!  Quintuple bonus because...I think you get the point.
       The gospel lesson for this coming Sunday comes from Luke 15.5-10.  Verses 8-10 I can understand perfectly.  The woman lost a coin and tore her house apart looking for it, just like I tore my house and dorm room up looking for this pin.  It is the first part that is a mystery to me.  Verses 5-7 set up the scene: Jesus talking with tax collectors and sinners.  Pharisees muttering under their breath about how Jesus welcomes them.  Eats with them even.  Then Jesus tells the story about the shepherd who watches 100 sheep but one got away.  He then goes on to ask, in what I can only hear as an incredulous tone, "which of you does not leave the 99 in the wilderness and go after the one that is lost until he finds it?"
        Um, excuse me?  Jesus?  I am raising my hand ever so bashfully.  "I would not leave the 99 others.  In fact, I would be giving thanks that I still had 99 of them and had only lost one!"  I'd like to be able to lie, especially when Jesus is asking this question like it is the only natural thing to do, go looking for the lost one.  But I can't.  First because Jesus is asking and I can't lie to him and second because I'm just not as forgiving or gracious or good as I'd like to be.  I'd cut the losses and move on. 
        But not Jesus.  Not God.
        God's grace and love is so extravagant that not even one sheep is worth the loss.  Not even worth the loss of going to find the one and then having to round all other 99 back up before God can rejoice.  No amount of work is too much for God to go looking for that one.  That lost one.  Even more crazy is that one lost sinner causes more joy than do 99 righteous ones.  This to me is a mystery.  And I do value life, and I do understand about being happy over someone who repents and lives in the light of God's grace because I've done it!  But, in my human limitedness, I cannot for the life of me fathom, what is just one sheep?  Yet, we, all of us, are that important to God.  So important, in fact, that Jesus died for you.  And you.  All of you.  And me.  Me?  Yes, you.  God's grace is so unfathomable that thinking about it for too long makes my head hurt.  It is so big, enormous, all-encompassing, crazy, joyous, welcoming, loving, merciful, mind-boggling, wide, deep, mysterious.  After all, what is just one sheep?

What is a disciple?

     Okay, so the gospel text for the coming Sunday isn't my favorite one in the Bible...and I'm wondering why this is the one I'm preaching my first sermon on???  Couldn't you have given me something nice, God?  It's Luke 14.25-33, where Jesus goes into how we're supposed to hate our families and give up our possessions in order to become a disciple.  Wait a minute, did you say hate?  Yep, Jesus tells us to hate our families.  The whole text is bookended by the phrase, "in order to become my disciple." 
Discipleship is the direction the Spirit is having me go this week, but hate?
     So we all know that Jesus tends to exaggerate a bit, and I believe this is one of those times.  We have to look at the context in which Jesus is speaking to get a sense of what he's really saying.  He is talking to a huge crowd of people who have started following him.  We don't know exactly why they're following, but maybe it's because of his miracles, or maybe because of the radical way in which he speaks and teaches.  What is important is that they're following Jesus, but they're not necessarily his disciples.  Jesus is taking the opportunity to tell them what it means to be a disciple.
    Except he doesn't exactly lay it out in the clearest terms.  This is my paraphrase, but basically Jesus says, "If you can't let go of your family and give up your possessions, you can't be my disciple."  This sounds rather legalistic, doesn't it?  Do these things and you'll be a disciple, don't do them and you're out?  Great.  Okay, better look at this from another way.
    If one doesn't have family or possessions, nobody and nothing in the world, what is left?  God.  We often fall in to the trap of forgetting about God because we define ourselves by our family, by what we do, or by what we have.  When we can earn our own money, get our own meals, protect our own homes and cars with insurance, there is no need for God.  It is the trap of idolatry: trusting things and people other than God.
    So, maybe Jesus is telling us that discipleship is all about trusting God.  If you can trust God then the discipleship thing will be a cinch.  But how do I know if I'm trusting God or not?  This is where the cool part comes in!  It says in Luther's explanation of the 3rd Article of the Apostle's Creed, "I cannot by my own understanding or effort believe in Jesus Christ my Lord, or come to him.  But the Holy Spirit has called me through the Gospel, enlightened me with gifts, and sanctified and kept me in true faith."
   It's not us at all, it's God through the Holy Spirit!  Yes, the discipleship part does have decisions with it: How can I use the gifts I've been given to serve God?  What is preventing me from trusting God fully?  Being a disciple does mean taking risks because you can't always know exactly what you're getting in to.  I never knew I would end up being a pastor, but because of God's grace and faithfulness to me, everything is wonderful.  It was painful, sometimes, and trusting that God knows what God is doing is probably one of the hardest things on the planet (which God did create) but it remains that being a disciple of Jesus Christ and trusting God is one of the best adventures on the planet!
    What are your thoughts?  I'd be interested to hear them, so please leave a comment if you like.  Then stay tuned to see how the sermon ends up on Sunday.  Meanwhile, blessings as we live the mystery of discipleship.

Where to Begin?

     I'm here!  My boxes are in my office, waiting to be unpacked.  Sarah, our administrative assistant is next door stapling the bulletins.  It's a beautiful day outside, and I am giddy with excitement.  So many things to think about, so many things to ask, so many things to accomplish.  This has been a week of mysteries: what is in this box?  Where did this book come from?  Why is this in the pastor's office?? What's behind that door?  Where are the spoons?  When is trash day?  What should we do for confirmation?  Where is the kleenex stored?  Who can I ask about the hymns?  ...  And that's only one hour of my first day here at St. John.  There are so many mysteries, foremost in my mind are:

Why, God, have you called me to walk with the people who call themselves St. John Lutheran Church at this exact time in this exact place? 

What is the Holy Spirit up to in Ely, and who is God calling us to be as church? 

What is God calling us to do?

        My ordination service was just this last Sunday, and one of the scriptures was Luke 24.44-50, when Jesus appears to his disciples post-resurrection and reminds them that they are witnesses to all that was foretold in Scripture, to the very life of God incarnate, the companions, friends, followers of Jesus Christ.  Witnesses.
        Witness comes from the Greek word martureo, the same root for the word martyr.  A martyr is simply one who proclaims what they have witnessed.  What have I witnessed that Christ is asking me to proclaim?  What have you witnessed?  These are just a handful in the myriad of mysteries I have encountered this week, and I look forward to how God reveals God's mysteries in the weeks, months, and years to come.