Pentecost   A  Stewardship 11/13/11

Matthew 25:14-30

Faith, hope, and love be to you from God our Father, from the one crucified and risen, Jesus of Nazareth, and from the holy and life-giving Spirit of God present with you now, calling, gathering, and enlightening through the gospel—which is the power of salvation for all the world. Amen

We’re going to do something different in today’s sermon. Instead of just listening to me—you have a part in proclaiming the Word today. Now, those of you who fear public speaking are probably popping a Rolaids right about now, and so you might ask, “Pastor Tom—how’s that gonna work?” Glad you asked!

Every so often during the sermon, we will take a moment to sing together. Not just any songs, though. Carefully selected hymns from your trusty ELW. Hymns chosen to reflect and expand upon what I open up from the scriptures. It will be like your comment on my status on Facebook.

Let’s warm up a bit first. Halle Halle Halle Halle-lu-jah  Alright! You’re ready to be in the sermon!

What do you fear? What are you afraid of? Call them out now, if you dare. Now. Let’s see how close you are to the results of a survey done recently on 21^st century fears. The top fears…

Insects/animals    Terrorism    Job loss    Failure    Death   Natural disasters

The end of the world  Public ridicule  Angry Birds (just kidding) Rejection   And…commitment

I would add one to those, related strongly to fear of commitment, but also to the others as well. And that is fear of…God.

I blame it mostly on the Old Testament. God always seems ticked off in the Hebrew scriptures. Well, not always, but a lot. So much, in fact, that certain early Christian scholars and church fathers favored rejecting them in our collections of scripture. Some went so far as to say that the God of the Old testament was a different god than the one who graciously manifests deity in the form of one destined to save the world from sin. Or that there was a fundamental change in who God was and how God operated from OT to NT and beyond.

You’d certainly glean that from a quick read of the OT and Psalm readings for today. Here’s just a few of the high—uhum—highlights. From Zephaniah – “The day of the Lord is at hand…I will punish the people who say God doesn’t matter, God won’t do good or bad” That day will be a day of wrath…I will bring distress upon the people…their blood will pour out like dust….and I will make an end to the lot of them.”

And don’t try turning to the psalm for comfort. “You, God, sweep people away like a dream…our days and numbered and we pass away like the morning dew, quickly, suddenly…we bring our years to an end like a sigh.”

[Sigh]

If this was all you had for information about God, would you say that God is cuddly? Or vengeful? An awesome God—or an awful God? Would you fear God? Probably. And some folks are stuck in that bad dream. Lost in the anger and retribution of God, they fear the ultimate, horrific consequences of a sin-flawed life, and project that fear like a laser into others who are seeking peace and life, blinding them so that they cannot see the gracious God who waits to welcome them with love. Trapping them in the darkness of their lopsided God of wrath, paralyzing them with their own fears. Flagellating themselves with the Law, in the misguided notion that God can only be appeased, not loved.

Fortunately, we don’t roll that way. The God of the Old testament is the same as the god of the gospels and new testament. God didn’t change (although God does change). Look at the scriptures. The words of hope, forgiveness, redemption, peace, restoration and rejuvenation are all there. God’s love needn’t be bought and God’s sense of justice doesn’t require a sacrifice—not of grain or wine or cattle or doves or Sons. God only wants your commitment. Your total commitment. Not as a payment for loving you. But as God’s entry into your life. For it is only in laying aside all other gods, and all other distractions, and all other self-rescue plans, that we have room for God’s presence in our lives, and the freedom to commit to a life of following Jesus.

Here’s what that commitment looks like (or should I say sounds like?

Take My Life, That I May Be  583

We all have commitments in our lives—school related, sports related, work-related, health related, finance related—all vying for a piece of us. All making us leery of a commitment to Christ. We’re basically afraid of God—like the servant who was given the one talent; who, fearing the master’s wrath, buried what he was given to preserve it. We lack the nerve to step out in faith and use what God has given us, afraid of the responsibility, afraid of failure, afraid of rejection.

You saw in the video how these fears can cripple a life. How it wasn’t until the mother let go of her attempts to manage her son’s addiction, instead committing him to Christ’s care, that she was able to find healing for herself. It wasn’t God who changed—it was she who was led by God to a place where she could put her life in Christ’s. Realizing that this was enough, that it was only by emptying herself that she might be filled.

It’s not easy—committing oneself to God. To say, I have enough food and clothes—I can share my enough with others’ who haven’t enough. To say, I have enough money, I can share that enough by helping others. To say, I have enough love to share that enough with those who don’t feel God’s love. It’s hard work to commit. You have to write a check, or buy some food and deliver it, or clean out your closets, or work at the homeless shelter, or visit the elderly or the imprisoned. None of that is a cake walk, you have to be committed to Christ to share your enough.

And some of us (all of us?) are afraid of that commitment, and not because we don’t think God will act one way or the other. We are afraid of losing God’s love, some fear losing heaven for hell. If we don’t succeed in sharing, if we don’t keep our commitments to God, then he will turn his face from us.

Now, Let me make it simple–I’m here to tell you today, that God wants your commitment, but even more than that he wants you. God is gracious and forgiving and nothing will make God stop loving you.

But how do we overcome our fears, our lack of trust, our scarcity mentality, and make that commitment to God? How’s about you tell me?

Change My Heart, O God   801  sing twice

Once God changes your heart and opens you to his son Jesus, then you will want to make a commitment, because it is based on love, not compelled by fear. You will be ready to take the enough and share it, risking what you have and you are for the sake of others who, through you, will be overtaken by God.

Following Jesus, Facing the truth, Acting together, sharing enough—these are what we will commit to next week as we bring our Covenant Cards to worship to be consecrated for use in this ministry. You are asked to commit part of your income, to commit yourself to a portion of the work that we do, and to commit to a simpler version of your life in which God fills the space left when we let go of the “too much.”

We ask God’s help in doing this….

Lord, Let My Heart be Good Soil  512

O God, you bless us with all we need, not only to survive, but to share. Take our lives, for we commit them to you. Change our hearts and make them open to your love and power, that we might be molded into the body of Christ in the world. When we fail, or resist, or fear you, comfort us with the balm of the good news of your Son, Jesus Christ. Forgive us, renew us, and send us out again into a world that needs us to risk it all. Let the light that you placed in us in baptism shine, and may it light our way, so that darkness is banished forever and all may share the love of your Son, in whose name we pray. Amen

This Little Light of Mine

Reformation/ Confirmation/ Stewardship  10/30/11

John 8: 31-36

Grace and peace and freedom to you, from our God and Father, and from Jesus, the truth.

In John’s portrayal of holy week, when Jesus comes face to face with Pontius Pilate, the official Roman overlord of Judea, Pilate asks if he is, as he said, a king. Jesus answers him, ‘You say that I am a king. For this I was born, and for this I came into the world, to testify to the truth. Everyone who belongs to the truth listens to my voice.’ Pilate asks him, ‘What is truth?’

That might be a mantra for the world today. You look at FOX News and CNN and think, “What is truth?” You watch a TV commercial that claims the lowest rates for its products. Then another one, different products, still the lowest prices. What is truth? The stock market goes down, and it goes up—then down again, and then up. What is truth? Scientists say the universe was created by a big bang. Creationists hold that God created it in six days. What is truth? Jews worship Yahweh, Christians believe in the triune God, Islam say Allah is god and Mohammed his prophet. What is truth? ELCA Lutherans  interpret the bible one way, Wisconsin Synod Lutherans differently. What is truth?

What is truth? Is there such a thing as absolute truth? And if so, how does truth relate to today’s theme  in the church year? Let’s see—Reformation Sunday, the rite of confirmation, and a stewardship emphasis called Make it Simple—can I do them all justice? No way! So I’ll have to just touch briefly on each. And then break out the two confirmands who are speaking this morning.

Facing the truth is today’s theme in Make it Simple. But facing the truth is oftentimes  hard. I’ve faced two difficult truths in my life—cancer and Parkinson’s. But the hardest truths I need to face are much more striking. We all face them. Truth # 1 – everything we have comes from God (yes everything, much as we like to envision ourselves pulling upward on the bootlaces, everything is deposited for us from outside), and #2 – no matter what we have, no matter who we are, we can’t ever earn God’s favor, or pay for our own sins—we can’t save ourselves. Only God in his mercy can. And the pertinent truth is just that—that god gives us everything and loves us without requiring anything from us but faith. And he gives us that too. And that’s the truth.

Facing those truths is freeing. Freeing from sin and freeing from the self-serving modus operandi that we are born with. We are free to help others and free to give of our resources generously, since we no longer ascribe to the rule that the one who dies with the most toys wins.

Reformation. Martin Luther rediscovered the truth that the church of his day had distorted. That God’s grace comes to us without merit, through Jesus Christ. What is truth? Jesus is. The cross is. The empty tomb is. Luther wrote that the church is always vulnerable to losing her focus on Jesus—which is why he suggested that the church also should be always reforming. And we as citizens of god’s kingdom, should remain alert, so as to correct the church’s course when it diverges from Jesus, the truth.

Finally confirmation. This is the day when Meghan, Ben, Korina, and abby will say yes to the promises made for them in baptism. They will confirm their belief in the father son and spirit, and reject evil, and make their own promises to god. they say yes to the truth that is Christ Jesus.

Now, does that mean they’re sure, certain, undeniably convinced about the way god is present in the universe? Or how god works in the world? Or what happens to those who believe just as strongly in something else?   Does their saying a few words of affirmation mean that they never will doubt, that their fiath will always remain strong? Do the prayers spoken today keep them from all harm and waywardness? No to all of the above. They may never set foot in a church again. They may go on to be a pastor, or church worker. They may concoct a creed that makes sense to them as members of the new generation. They might revive the most ancient rites of the church. They may reform the church, rediscover the scriptures, theologize in a new way. Or they might forget everthing they learned and forget god forever.

There’s just one thing you guys got to know—and its for all of you too. Truth – God will love you anyway. Truth – Jesus saved you form the consequesnce of sin—no takebacks. And truth – Jesus loves you this I know, and you’ll always have a place in his church.

Pentecost 18C  10/16/11

Matthew 22:15-22, (Isa 45:1-7, 1Thess 1:1-10)

Grace and peace to you from the one who was, and is, and is to come, Jesus.

Some people like science fiction—Flash Gordon (not Larry Gordon), Alien, Star Trek (that…old….favorite), and a lot of people like Star Wars (Little Brian Meldrum does a wicked good Yoda impression, will you do it for us Brian?). There’s so many others—I don’t care to name them, however, because, you see, I prefer science non-fiction.

You know. Like Nova, and National Geographic, and the Discovery Channel, and quantum physics, and super-colliders, and black holes, and stem cells and the human genome, and string theory, and Dr. Who…all right not him, but Dr. Steven Hawking and Dr. Stephen J. Gould, and Dr. Albert Einstein, and Dr. Livingston (I presume), and just about anything that has on it the fresh morning dew of innovative thinking deposited by uniquely gifted minds that go beyond the mundane and known into what can’t be seen, but can only be extrapolated, conjectured, postulated, theorized, and hypothesized.

I like to be fascinated by science—blinded by it. For me, science is exciting. At least the fields that I mentioned are—to me. I like physics, because what the scientists are working on is so mind-blowingly novel it gives me goose bumps. Sub-atomic particles traveling faster than the speed of light (impossible you say? You’re right! Fascinating!). Earth Science, on the other hand—boring! Except maybe when an earthquake hits in New England.

Let me tell you about a few of the “science non-fiction”  articles and books I’ve dipped into recently. I read a book called Sync (not like kitchen sink, synchronized) that was all about how the universe from mini to mega tends to sync up. Fireflies in a meadow will begin flashing randomly, but will eventually fall into a synchronized rhythm. Traffic jams are caused by one or more drivers dropping out of sync with the others. Here’s an experiment in sync—we’re going to clap our hands faster and faster and faster and see what happens. [the clapping finds a moment of sync.] Cool, ay?

Another jaw dropper: Scientists trying to go beyond Einstein’s thinking to find what they call “the theory of everything.” That which would tie together various laws of relativity and particle physics into one neat bundle—they have come up with string theory. Which VERY basically says that the electrons and quarks within atoms are not 0 dimensional, but rather like a string. A string that can oscillate at different frequencies on differing positions on the string—much like a piano string. These vibrating strings are thought to predate the big bang.

Which is cool enough by itself, but then mix theology into that sub-atomic, scientific stew, and then it really gets interesting. For instance add to this string theory the words of Genesis 1:1 and you’re in for something that will knock your argyle sox off!. “In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth, …and the universe was a formless void and the spirit of God hovered over it. The word translated in the NIV as hovered–   rachaph—means also to shake, tremble, or vibrate! Like a string in string theory! I think that too much of a coincidence to be a coincidence. Is it possible that somehow in the formation of the creation story, a scientific hypothesis was foreshadowed by the inspired language passed down over hundreds of years? Could the theory of everything also tie up some loose ends in the debate between physicists and creationists?

Alright, alright—that’s taking her into tabloid territory. Just found it fascinating. Like the singularity, which is a futurist theory  put out there by the same fella who invented and marketed synthesizers as  keyboards. Whose name is on our keyboard – Kurzweil. Kurzweil’s idea is that, taking into account the exponentially growing technology experienced in the last century, with new more powerful and faster computer processors coming into being faster and faster, it is only a matter of time before computer-like entities will take over the G progression from limited humans. Thus speeding up the process beyond . The singularity occurs when human kind, with technology, is transformed, civilization ceases to exist, a new world order is established and…humans  becomes immortal. It’s supposed to happen in 2045.

At the trumpet’s blast all will be transformed. I saw a new heaven and a new earth. The  kingdom of God is near. Those who believe will never die…Strange how the theory mirrors the scriptures/ But again, that’s just coincidence, right? But it’s science!

One more—last one I promise! M-Theory. It has something to do with strings and their varied vibrations. I couldn’t even begin to explain it—but conjecturally it makes possible multiverses. Which is to say “universes,’ if to say that were not an oxymoron in itself. Bottom line there might be more to the universe then what we can detect—our universe may be only a wart type extrusion from a larger universe. Kind of like when you squeeze a balloon to make a giraffe. And M theory also postulates the existence of at least 11 other dimensions—parallel universes which occur simultaneously or just seconds apart from our reality. Making time travel possible and perhaps also providing humanity with an enigmatic, yet esoteric, ethereal escape hatch from our dying dimension to an alternate parallel universe where things haven’t gotten messed up.

Eden? Heaven? You decide. And the idea shouldn’t make you shake your head and say to yourself, “I think he’s taking too many of those Parkinson’s drugs!” First because I’m not. And second because we all live in a parallel universe already. I’ll say it again. You are already in an alternate reality, a parallel universe, where things are quite different from the way they used to be—heck, you are different too.

This dimension you have entered is not the Twilight Zone (Kids—that was a early TV drama—nothing whatsoever to do with vampires!)  You entered it by being re-born from above. With your baptism, you changed address from THE WORLD, to THE KINGDOM OF GOD. You are in the world, but things are viewed from a different perspective—not of time, but of relationship. You’re not in Kansas anymore, kid. Things work different.

Like money. Today’s gospel is a perfect example of how something that’s odious (taxes) in the world is transformed in the parallel universe of the gospel. The Pharisees seek to entrap Jesus by trying to force him into a verbal gaffe via a damned if you do, damned if you don’t query. They ask Jesus if they should pay their taxes. Taxes were even less popular in Jesus’ setting as the money went to fund Roman pork projects like “aqueducts to nowhere,” instead of spending it right there in Israel! Plus the money had Caesar’s likeness on it and an inscription referring to him as Deus—God.

Jesus doesn’t shy away from the question because he knows the answer. Money is different in the kingdom dimension. Roman money goes to Rome, and when in Rome, it does what the Romans do. That’s a Roman deal—give it to the Roman head on the coin. And then the kicker. While you’re  at it give to God what is God’s—that how the kingdom rolls.

But there’s more!

In the kingdom, you don’t go first—unless you have been last. Been oppressed? Inequity is redressed. Were meek? No longer a geek. Hungry, thirsty, naked before? In the kingdom there’s enough and more.

The “rules” of society don’t apply here. Just as in last week’s gospel the wedding invitees were replaced by the riff-raff and the goody-two-shoes of the village, the unexpected ones play a pivotal role. Cyrus, war Lord of the great Persian Empire, no friend to the people of God, was used even so by God to restore his people to their former freedom. God creates weal and woe, light and darkness, pain and joy—and somehow, someway they fit together in the kingdom. God is in control because God is not in control. Drop any of the worldly ways that still cling to you, as the waters of baptism cleansed you of sin and opened the veil between the kingdom of earth and the kingdom of heaven.

It isn’t an escape. We don’t enter the kingdom to dodge problems and spare ourselves misery and heartache and violence. Hardship is still part of daily life. But your perspective on it is different. Whereas before you roamed the earth alone, looking out only for your own good, now in the kingdom your thoughts and heart are for others. Instead of clawing one’s way up the ladder of self-fulfillment, clambering over the fallen bodies of those you only see as competitors, you hold the ladder for others, pick them up when they fall, and work together to make sure that all are fulfilled in Christ Jesus.

And just because there are some not presently living in the kingdom, doesn’t mean that we ignore them, or Lord it over them. For they are others too. They may be of the world, but the earth is the Lord’s and all there is in it. Render to the emperor what belongs to emperor. And to God what is God’s. God created all, there is no us and them—only us.

That’s reality I can get behind. Some people might call it heaven, but it’s now. Some people may refuse to acknowledge the existence of Gods kingdom here on earth. True it’s presence on earth is blocked by human sin, making transformation like static on a radio without an antenna. But behind it all and sometimes breaking through to the forefront with deafening clarity the kingdom of God is revealed through the actions of those who are anointed like Jesus to do God’s will—no matter who they are.

There is a parallel universe—but we are not slicing apart the formulae of modern physics to get in. That universe—that new Jerusalem—is God in Christ Jesus defying the laws of nature to unify the multiverse—to set the clock back, to set sin on its head, and to set up life in a new shining glory of God. And everything and God will be all in all. And the Spirit of God with hover over what was chaos, and hum.

Pentecost 12 A  09/04/11

Matthew 18:20

Grace and peace to you from God our father, and from Jesus of Nazareth, Son of God, the Christ.

It’s ironic. Grace and peace. Peace. Peace comes to us from God. Ironic. How? The Greek word that is translated as “peace” in the bible is…irene. Irene. Anything but peaceful. Maybe not here in Amherst where damage might be measured in the number of twigs were blown down on your driveway. But in certain other locations, Hurricane (and later TS) Irene was the opposite of peaceful. Turbulent, violent, chaotic.

Starting with a damaging visit to Puerto Rico and the Caribbean, Irene’s winds and rains rushed up the Atlantic coastline—ripping into North Carolina, lashing a Virginia still wary after a rare earthquake, and smashing dead on into New Jersey, forcing even the megalopolis NYC to evacuate and shut down. The depleted Irene still had enough strength left then to run up the interior of the Northeast, leaving in her wake floods and destruction from Vermont to Maine. Irene was not peaceful in any way, shape, or form.

But we dodged it (or rather it dodged us). And you even received the coveted “Get out of Church Free” card last Sunday. But, best of all, you didn’t have the mess and inconvenience, the long power outages or the weather related closings. I say “you” didn’t. Because I did. Last weekend I was visiting my friend Pete in Oliveria, which is in upstate New York—Ulster County. The hardest hit  area in the whole state.

In hindsight not the best spot to spend the weekend. But Lisa’s friend Norma was turning 50, and she had to be there for that celebration. And Pete’s house was on the way, and I owed him a visit. So, we went. Lisa, the eternal optimist pooh-poohing the chance of an encounter with the storm. And me, the pessimist, wanting to evacuate even before we arrived. And truth be told, Lisa did not experience the brunt of the tropical storm. There was rain for a time, the creek behind Norma’s house ran over its banks, there was some damage to property and roads—but nothing major. And by Sunday noontime, the sun came out and it was over.

Meanwhile, back at Pete’s, the rain began at about 4 pm Saturday and didn’t quit until Monday morning early. There’s a creek in the little community in which Pete lives.also, which quickly became a raging torrent, jumped its banks in several places—it tore out trees, moved rocks and boulders, destroyed houses and devoured cars. It swept down the mountain, caused a landslide, ripped up the pavement of Rt 47 leaving behind a deep gulch, pulled down all the wires, and worst of all damaged both the bridges that connected the community to the outside world! As the rains continued to pour down, we saw trees, propane and oil tanks, trailers, cars strewn all about by the massive, unstoppable force of the water.

Things went south quickly. We awoke Sunday morning already with no electric, no phone, no cable, no internet, no water, no shower, and no way to get out. And still it rained. And still the creek rose. Pete’s house was on higher ground—but one tree down across the creek could always change its course. I feared we would be surrounded by water at the best—at worst, a trip down McKinley Creek.

I hunkered down keeping my fears almost to myself. Pete on the other hand—he wanted to go have a look around. And he wasn’t alone. Soon neighbors came to check on their neighbors. Some were wearing life preservers over their slickers. They came offering help of any kind. They had food, drink, a dry house to ride out the rest of the storm in. Some had generators, and thus had water and hardest thing of all to get–information.

We soon learned that not only was the secondary road out—so was  route 28, and even the NYSThuway was closed. Not knowing what was going on south of us, I assumed Lisa was staying put and not leaving to pick me up as planned. And she, not hearing any word at all from me—started to fear the worst.

Monday dawned bright, and we trooped over to a neighbor whose phone service was still intact, despite the fact that the outside lines were underwater. I used that old rotary phone to call Lisa—who thank goodness was not on facebook and got the call. All I could tell her was to stay there until we formulated a plan to escape NY!

Not such an easy job! Pete and his wife Julie were able to drag and ride their bikes 3 miles to the nearest cell phone reception area. They learned that Rt. 28 was closed while engineers determined the safety of the Mt. Tremper bridge. Now the problem was how to reach Lisa and tell her that we would meet her at the bridge (25 miles away). The only phone in the hollow had given up the ghost, the roads were a mess.

I figured it was either stay put another day or two (or 3 or 4), or I could risk packing out down the road and call her from the cell hot spot. I chose the latter, and my friend Pete quickly volunteered to accompany me. For which I am grateful!

So off we went. Luckily the people of the hollow had taken matters into their own hands—commandeering some fortuitously present earth movers and clearing and filling in the roadway. We crossed a bridge that was formerly a two lane road, now one. And we walked down the highway—me pulling my little wheelied suitcase behind me. We descended to the “town” of Big Indian—a fire station, post office and gas station that no longer sold gas. No cell service.

But the Post office was lending their phone to all who needed it. So we called Lisa and got her going towards Kingston, gambling that the roads between Monroe and Phoenicia were passable. (I didn’t tell Lisa that.) Pete and I then proceeded to hitchhike to Phoenicia, where we hoped to get news of the bridge, either way. [now kids—it’s not good to hitch rides]

Pete had brought a piece of cardboard that he was thinking of writing Grandma’s House on—betting that people would stop for that. But before he had time to make it, a little station wagon pulled over and we shared the back seat with a dog all the way to town. Along the way we found out the older couple who picked us up knew Pete’s mother—everyone knows everyone there! They were so gracious and helpful!

So, to Phoenicia—and on the way further scenes of devastation – a whole trailer park under six feet of water—cut off from safety by the torrent of normally lazy old Esopus Creek. People usually float down it on inner tubes. Not today. Debris chokes it.

Finally, town, where again no cell service. But we hear that the bridge is now open. And a lady directs us to (can you believe it?) a pay phone! We called Lisa again, gave her the go ahead to come into Phoenicia to get us. An hour and some directionally-challenged navigating problems later, Lisa and I were reunited. We drove Pete back to Rt. 47, left him at the damaged bridge, and headed home without further incident, arriving just about 11 pm. Some twigs and acorns on the drive, but no sign that anything had even happened here, weather-wise.

Now. Why have I expended four pages of sermon and ten minutes of your precious Sunday recounting this admittedly week-old report which is not much different from ones  you heard ad infinitum on the news before, during, and after Irene? Well, I’ll tell you.

I don’t preach politics from this pulpit. But there was a comment made this week, by a politician who shall remain nameless [cough], which ventured outside the realm of political talk into the purview of God-talk. And I’m of the opinion that when a politician speculates on the nature and purposes of God, when he or she says things like, “God is doing this..,” or “God says this or that,” then they have jumped headfirst into theological debate. And, that being the area of my calling, I feel it my duty to respond, theologically. They be treading on my turf. And as it was so elegantly put by Peter Venkman in the movie Ghostbusters, “No one steps on a church in my town!”

This politician, whose name I won’t mention (but whose initials are Michelle Bachman), offered her opinion of the political climate in America, which is fine. But she then intimated that God was of the same opinion. Indeed, so much so, that He aligned the forces of nature against Washington DC. To teach them a lesson. Here’s the quote:

“I don’t know how much God has to do to get the attention of the politicians,” she reportedly said at a rally in Sarasota. “We’ve had an earthquake; we’ve had a hurricane. He said, ‘Are you going to start listening to me here?’ Listen to the American people because the American people are roaring right now. They know government is on a morbid obesity diet and we’ve got to rein in the spending.”

She can think that about God if she wants—I’m not questioning her faith, her ideals, or even her politics. I am questioning the way she perceives God’s presence in creation and how God interacts with us.

Let me be clear about my theology. I do not believe that God uses the creation against us. An earthquake is caused by the sudden shift of tectonic plates deep within the earth, not by God, who at best is only trying to get us to listen to him, or—worst case scenario—actually is out to harm us into toeing the conservative line. Hurricanes are caused by the confluence of warm air and water, and low pressure. God does not send a hurricane, displacing thousands, hurting hundreds, killing some people even, not to mention damaging homes, schools, hospitals, and sources of income, all to make legislators balance the budget.

You might be wondering, “How do you know this?” You might even be thinking, “Hey now in the OT, God zaps people right and left—hurricanes and earthquakes are definitely in his bag of tricks.” To that I’d answer that the OT is the account of humanity’s interaction with God, inspired by God, but written from their human perspective. To an extent the ancient ancestors attributed disasters and calamities to God, because they had no scientific acumen to rely upon to explain, for instance, why one village was wiped out by floods and another spared. And truth be told, the cataclysmic events of the OT are always withdrawn by God in the end, who is seen as gracious and good. God always rescues his people.

But how do I know this? Because of Jesus. Jesus is the clearest and most fully informative revelation of God. God can be seen and known through Jesus. The OT writers could not see God through this Jesus Lens—they did what they could in interpreting their experiences in a monotheistic fashion. But the gospel and epistle writers could see God. (G-ray specs) And what they saw was a God of grace, love and forgiveness. God whose purpose is to rescue me, not smite me.

The basic theological point we’re discussing here can be expressed by answering two questions. One – “How is God present in this?” And two – “What is God doing here?” Let’s see this hurricane from a different angle.

God was present in lifebelt wearing people who risked life and limb to go out in the storm and check on neighbors. He was present as people shared what they had—a phone, some water, dry clothes, a helping hand. He was present in the prayers ascending from millions as the storm bore down on an area not used to that. He was present on facebook and twitter as people told their stories and lamented their losses, and praised their survival. God was present in my friend Pete, who took me from the wilderness and chaos, back to loved ones and home. God was present in every rescue boat launched, every sandbag placed, every bottle of water handed out. God was present in all who took his message to heart—Love your neighbor, love one another. God remains present to those who suffer in NY, and VT and other places—through prayers lifted up in thousands of churches this day, in the health kits to be assembled at Hammonasset, in the relief and repair workers who flooded the hard hit area with manpower and equipment. God is love and God draws us into that love—despite the obstacles and road blocks we impede him with. God just loves us, and pulls even harder with his love.

Finally—what is God doing here? God draws good from evil in life, just as he did with the cross. If there’s a lesson to be learned from this experience it’s that God has me and won’t let go. That although I am afflicted, I am not abandoned. That the darkness is overcome by the light. And that the rushing waters of McKinley Creek and the Esopus River and even the Atlantic Ocean are no match for the waters of baptism that first rescued me.

Peace be with you. AMEN

Pentecost 7A  7/31/11

Isaiah 55:1, Matt 14:13-21

Grace and peace from God the Father and founder of the feast, and our savior and host Jesus Christ.

When I was just a lad, mphgumf years ago, each Columbus Day weekend, our family would make the trip from Long Island to our vacation house on Lake Winnipesaukee. To peep at the leaves, close things up for the winter, and best of all, to attend the Sandwich Fair.

There were no agricultural fairs on Long Island that can I remember, so going to the Sandwich Fair was quite a learning experience as well as a fun time for us. It got me and my brothers close to farm animals, introduced us to agricultural events like tractor and horse pulling, cattle, sheep, pig showing, fruit and veggie judging, and also to that delicious fair fare – doughboys, Maxwell’s walk-away sundaes, and caramel apples—to name a mouth-watering few. The fair gave us a look at shiny new tractors and farm equipment, and showcased rural businesses (like Tasker’s Well Drilling – Our Business in Going in the Hole!).

The Sandwich Fair was also where we first came in contact with the less savory side of fairs, the Midway. Rides that looked rusty and rickety, run by tooth-missing men with greasy hands and hair. Games of chance—perhaps better known as Games of No Chance. Pop the balloon with a dull dart, knock over the carefully placed and weighted milk bottles, and my personal nemesis—ring toss. Just when you thought you had it—they told you the ring had to go over the square base of the ring too. And oh, there were haunted houses, houses of mirrors, the obligatory sledgehammer ring the bell test of strength, rope ladders to test your agility. And side shows. What a sight they were.

I can remember the carnival barkers, making their pitch, trying to get you inside the tents to view the snake lady, the tiniest horse, the tattooed man, or the two-headed bird. Of course, even in those days the barker was pre-recorded, and the tape played over and over incessantly. “Step right up! Only 50 cents to see Bertha, world’s largest pig—I can still remember that one.

Now, why the reminiscing about, of all things, carnival barkers and freak shows? Well, it’s because today’s first lesson always makes me think of them. And of one enthusiastic lector in my internship congregation (the third year of seminary). His name was John and he had a habit of saying, “Good morning,” before he started to read, which is frowned upon by all self-righteous interns everywhere. He was also a dramatic reader—so his readings tended to be a bit more interesting.

One fine summer Sunday John was assigned to read this  same Isaiah 55 lesson. He got up there to the lectern, he adjusted the mic, tapped it once to make sure it was on, then he gave the expected greeting. Then a touch of silence, punctuated by…

“HO!”

“Everyone who thirsts, come to the waters; and you that have no money, come, buy and eat!”

The whole congregation jumped in their seats, and I’d be surprised if some of the people didn’t lose a minute or three off their lives due to that opening. But John did capture the emotion in the text. And I ask you—doesn’t the reading sound like a carnival barker’s pitch—at least at first look?

HO!

That’s a word straight out of Olde English. It comes from a command you’d give a horse. Can you guess that command? It’s “Whoa!” Whoa—stop, hold up, just a minute there, wait a sec, step right up—all are acceptable substitutions, I think. Isaiah is working to get the people of Israel’s attention, to draw them into a place where reality is suspended—into a “freak show” in which wine and milk can be bought without price, where mighty nations tremble at the feet of a restored Israel, where God and his people are joined forever in the covenant he made with King David.

Now, I don’t know about you, but I’ve been burned by midway shows before. Bertha the world’s biggest pig turned out to be an, agreeably hefty, but no wheres near, fattest porker on earth. Rip off! The Snake Lady lies on a trick mirrored table that superimposes her head on a snake’s slithering body. Bogus! (But don’t make a comment like: “That’s what I want to be when I grow up—a snake lady.” She doesn’t take kindly to sarcasm.)

When it comes right down to it, the carnival barker seeks to separate a fool from his (or her) money. By offering a cheap thrill at best, or a flagrant fake at worst. It got to the point where I would walk past the sideshows—looking straight ahead, not making eye contact with any carnies, not listening to their siren calls, not being drawn in by the tabloid-strength sensationalism of their claims. Only 50 cents to see Bertha, world’s largest pig…no thank you. Fool me once—shame on you; fool me twice—shame on me.

Isaiah had much the same reaction from his people, I’d imagine. They were captives of the great Babylonian Empire, and they’d been sold the goods before. False prophets had advised their kings to hold out and fight the vast hoards, promising them victory and prosperity. The real prophets warned Israel about her ungodly behavior and injustice, and foretold the ruin of the nation. They were ignored or put to death. But their words were accurate—Israel and Judea, a split kingdom suffered greatly in their pride.

So when Isaiah came a preaching, people may have been a little wary of his message. “HO—check this out—don’t think Gods love comes at a cost—it’s free! Don’t spend your time chasing after things that can’t satisfy—I offer you God, rich in all things good for you. God’s love for David, he has for you as well. God’s promise to David, is also given to you. What I will give you is so fantastic, the whole world will be on your doorstep pleading for some. You will be a beacon to the world.”

The people must have thought—could this be true? Sounds like the time the baker’s son claimed that an image of Moses appeared on the bottom of a fresh loaf of rye bread. A fake no matter how you sliced it.

Fast forward to today’s gospel.

Jesus’ entire method of evangelism can be summed up in a single word: HO! Jesus works hard to get the people’s attention, because he has a message that he doesn’t want any to miss. He doesn’t meet in the synagogue, but prefers exciting venues like a boat, a mountain,, at the village well. His speech is shocking—he speaks in parables that reveal the radical nature of God’s love, and he testifies to the in-breaking of a new age fashioned by God. He works miracles—healings, exorcisms, the manipulation of the natural world—astonishing! He dances close to treason against Rome as he feeds the masses, talks about kingdoms other than Rome, calls himself the light (we have no light but Caesar), the Son of God (also C). Daring! Jesus was all about drawing attention. He was good at it.

So good, that when he needed a break (like when he finds out his cousin John has been executed), he can’t get away from the crowds—they follow him by the thousands. Just to see him, touch his cloak, hear him slam Rome and those Pharisees, cure their ills, just to be able to say, I was there when Jesus…” They come to the wilderness, leaving everything behind—food, water, chores,   cell phones, iPods, meetings and soccer games. They left it all because Jesus flung wide the door to the kingdom of God, and the kingdom was raining down on their heads. And they liked it.

Later…The disciples advise Jesus to disperse the crowd so they can go BUY food to eat. But Jesus says: Ho, you feed them—without money, at no cost to them, not even a pot luck—you feed them. The disciples complain that they only have a coupla loaves of barley bread and two dried up fish—what good will that do (and the subtext—if we give away our dinner we’ll go hungry)? Jesus tells them to hand the grub over.

And what he does next not only has profound physical ramifications, but it is also highly symbolic. Yes, the food miraculously fed over five thousand people, with 12 baskets left over (lucky someone brought empty baskets!). On the physical, earthly side, Jesus demonstrates his power to produce bread (and fish) for the people. Bread was a staple food of Palestinians during the Roman Empire—and there was never enough. Jesus’ multiplying the bread shows that the kingdom of God is breaking in—a reign in which the poor are fed and the rich go hungry. Rome would have sat up and taken notice of this event.

But miracles, I hope you know, are secondary. Even more important than the miracle itself is what it points to. In a way, miracles are representations of parables. Active illustrations. They always say something about Jesus and the coming kingdom—and us.

Symbolically speaking, this miracle has deep Eucharistic undertones. Do you see the four parts of the supper in this text? Bring: Jesus says bring the loaves and fish to me. Bless: He blesses them. Break: He broke the loaves. And Give: He gave them to the disciples who gave them to ALL the people. Jesus symbolically foreshadows both the Eucharist and the great Messianic feast at the end of the ages.

That being said, what Jesus calls the crowds in for on the grassy hillside, is not sup-sup suppertime. Rather it is to a gift freely given, there for the taking, bread for the world. Bread that brings with it the promises of God, made certain and sure by the presence of Jesus. Bread that, like Isaiah’s water and wine and milk and bread, represents a restored relationship with God, a redeemed life in Christ Jesus, and a new existence pouring into the world—washing away the evil and injustice and depositing peace, righteousness, and God’s agape love.

Are you being fed? Do you want the bread that nourishes the spirit, the water that refreshes the soul, the food that gives comfort and sustenance? It’s here, at Messiah.

HO! Come and get it—free!

Amen

Pentecost 6A  07/24/11

Matt 13:31-33, 44-52

May grace and peace be yours in abundance in the knowledge of God and of  Jesus Christ.

Matthew the gospel writer catered to his followers when he compiled and wove together the bits and pieces of Jesus’ story that he recalled and collected and copied from other sources. They were of Jewish background and so the grammar and vocabulary he used took that into account. He makes reference to the Hebrew scriptures. He uses Hebraic words without explanation. He builds the plot of the story around the holy days of Passover and The festival of the booths and others. But also, and forgive me for upsetting you a bit in your fundamentalist leanings, but Matthew changed some of the words. Just a few. For a good reason.

For instance, in today’s reading, Matthew prefers to use the phrase “Kingdom of Heaven” rather than “kingdom of God,” the latter of which would involve him writing down the name of the “one we do not name.” (No, not Voldemort—Yahweh.) Now, normally this kind of harmless vocabulary substitution causes little more than a passing blip on the interpreter’s radar. No big deal—duly noted and filed away under “T” for trivial.

But in some cases—and particularly in this one—the gospel writer’s “helpful” adaptation of the core story can lead to misunderstanding, which can lead to misinterpretation, which can subsequently—worst case scenario—lead to a distortion of the good news of Jesus Christ.

The difference between the kingdom of heaven, and the kingdom of God is so obvious that we no longer even see it. Obviously the two have different genitives, or possessives. Heaven and God. Not much different you may think.

But I put this to you—our 21^st century understanding of the word “heaven” as a place where believers go when they die, is not what 1^st century Matthew had in mind when he used it. He had his own understanding of the word, based on his own context and world view. And it had nothing to do with pearly gates, gold-paved roads, harp-playing angels, or white robes and sandals. For Matthew “heaven” was part of creation, created on the first day. In the cosmology of the time, the earth was flat, and the heavens were separated from it by a dome—which sported windows for rain and snow to pass through. For Matthew, heaven was a just good word to use in place of Yahweh.

Good for those who first read Matthew’s gospel. Not so good for us. In our lectionary, Matthew’s account appears more than any other gospel on Sunday mornings. So, by default, we hear much talk of the Kingdom of Heaven coming from Jesus’ lips. And we automatically think of puffy white clouds and lying in the bosom of Abraham. The afterlife. That is not where Matthew  was going with it, and, though Jesus spoke of life after death, for the most part, he’s not talking about it here. And this misunderstanding has distorted an important part of Jesus’ main message.

Jesus came to usher in the Kingdom of God. Not a place. Not a person. Not a reward for good deeds or right thinking. Not something promised for a time and date to be announced. Not “pie in the sky in the great by and by.” What Jesus spoke of was not for or about heaven, it was for and about the earth.

Now.

The kingdom of God is God’s reign—how God operates. It’s the way God rolls. It is way different than that of the rulers and principalities and powers of the earth. God’s way is not of the earth. But it is definitely for the earth—now—and in the future. But mostly now. The kingdom of God overtakes and replaces the world’s systemic injustice. God’s justice, which by the way is not punitive judgment, but rather distributive equity—with Jesus God’s justice is transforming the world, one believer at a time. It is like a small seed that grows into a big tree. Like yeast sprinkled into dough to make it rise. Valuable as the best pearl ever. A hidden treasure you would liquidate all your assets to obtain.

Now.

Can you see how our focus changes when we welcome the coming of the reign of God, instead of treating this worldly existence we share as either a necessary evil, or a test of our faith, or as merely practice for what ultimately negates the value of life on earth. It shifts our center from biding our time and securing our future, to using that time to help God transform the earth into that future – NOW.

During Advent and Lent we talk a lot about waiting. How we should wait to sing Christmas carols. How we should not rush to the glory of Easter, without living through the horror of Good Friday. It seems like I’m always insisting that you wait for God.

Well, not this time. If you spend your life stockpiling good deeds, and waiting for the Kingdom of God, thinking that it exists only on “the other side,” then you will have wasted your life. Because the Kingdom of God exists now. Not up there. Right here, right now. On earth—this earth.

This is not a secret. Jesus shouted it out for all to hear. And if you just open your eyes, you will discover that the reign of God is as plain as the nose on your face. It’s hidden, but in plain sight of those who know what they looking for.

So, don’t wait. Don’t sit idle, don’t write off the world just yet, and please, please don’t squander your new life in Christ by focusing only on where you’re going to go when you die. Jesus has already taken care of that little detail.

Instead, look into your own life, and see how God has blessed you and called you to use his gifts. Look around you. See the many faces of those who share this work, this journey with you. See the places and efforts that are marked with the cross of Christ – the seal of the kingdom. And then take a look at the earth. See where God’s justice is obscured by human avarice and greed. See where love is being squelched by enmity. See where the sick are left untreated and the poor unfed. See where the earth is groaning with the pangs of misuse. See the work that needs doing. Then remember you are God’s.   Then remember you are baptized. You are a citizen of the kingdom of God. Already. Now. And nothing—nothing—can ever change that.

Stop waiting for the end of the story. And help God write the middle with bold, passionate words of love, peace, justice,, and grace. Now. Now. Today.

AMEN

Let’s try one for practice. Remember, something that fits the category described…

Things that some people like to eat, that most people find revolting.

Raw fish, black jelly beans, Moxie, bugs

Alright, now for real. These next three are only slightly different from each other, so they do require more thought. Sorry. Take a deep breath or two to oxygenate your brain. And here we go…

Things that people think are complicated, that are actually very simple.

How about counting to eleven on your fingers?

Things that people experience as being challenging, but are truly a breeze.

Learning to whistle (a breeze…)

Things that people make difficult, that are in reality quite effortless.

Deciding as a group what pizza toppings to order. None LCD.

Very, very good.

(That was easy!) Did you hear that?  I borrowed it from whoever borrowed it from Joanne and left it over Messiah House. It’s part of an ad campaign that showed how office tasks once thought hard, were easily accomplished when you used Staples’ products. Have to add a last minute insert into the bulletin—no problem! Just press the easy button. (That was easy!) Evangelism needs the phone numbers of all visitors to Messiah over the age of 25, who moved into Bedford in the last two years—impossible? No way! (That was easy!) Still working on the sermon on Saturday evening? (Hit next to button several times—nothing.) Well, it is only an ad.

But there is truth in it. The advertisement caters to our sense of instant gratification. Which, to quote the character Veruca Salt in Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, is best summed up as: “I want it NOW!” The easy button is a promise of care-free solutions to problems, as well as effortless completion of work, provided in the name of the god of efficiency. We don’t wish to wait, or expend lots of time and energy on the things that we feel are not worth it. So, if you can’t get it NOW, or it makes you crack a sweat, or the projected outcome is not worthy of your time—we either don’t want it at all, or we want the quick fix. The stopgap measure. The easy way out. The best of both worlds. Have our cake and eat it too.

The god of efficiency smiles on that. But the God of Abraham and Jacob, doesn’t. Or does he? Well, which is it? Is God’s love attainable only through self-sacrifice and suffering, good behavior and good deeds—is it hard to come to know God? Is it difficult? Or is it (that was easy!)?

The church is counter-cultural most times it seems, so it’s no surprise that many people believe that the road to heaven is paved with “shoulds.” If you’re going to be “saved” and stay that way, then there are certain things you should do. You should go to church. You should give a tithe. You should read your bibles. Also there are plenty “should nots.” You should not text during the sermon. You should not gossip. You should not forget the poor. Should, should-not—do this, don’t do that. If you want to be in and stay in.

Where did all these shoulds and should-nots come from any way? A little thing called the Ten Commandments (that was easy!). Thou shall not kill, commit adultery, steal, bear false witness, and so on. God gave his law to Israel. Fine and dandy.

The people of Israel did find them a little hard to keep. In fact they broke number one before Moses got back from Mt. Sinai with them. Made a little golden calf god to worship. Tsk-tsk-tsk. Shouldn’t oughta have done that. Moses smashed his copy of the ten, destroyed the calf, and went back up the mountain to try and talk God into not smiting his people.

Well, the people learned their lesson. Sort of. Over the many years between Old and New Testament times, they devised a system of shoulds and should-nots that was designed to prevent them from even getting close to breaking a commandment. What to eat, what to wear, what was clean or unclean, when to do work—and what constituted work. Hundreds of rules, restrictions, and proscriptions to keep in order to earn the favor of God almighty. This changed the dynamic of the relationship between God and the people.

Because the Ten Commandments were never intended to be a short list of what it takes to get into heaven. The ten commandments are about living together in relationship with God. Today—now. In the present. Be that BC or AD. In trying to take control of the relationship by holding God at legal arm’s length in order to be guaranteed righteous, the people instead distanced themselves from God.  And God didn’t want that.

Some things we make more difficult than warranted.

The religious authorities in Jesus’ day, the Pharisees, in an attempt to wisely protect themselves from God’s wrath, used all their intelligence and scriptural knowledge to craft that system. Too bad for them, cause Jesus says the Father has hidden the good news behind their wisdom and smartness. They are unable to see God’s mercy because it is hidden by their rules and regulations. They cannot imagine that the way to God, and God’s way to you, is a simple unwashed Galilean carpenter. (that was easy). But he was. And still is. Though we are not Pharisees, we still impose upon ourselves great trials and tribulation because we can’t accept that God’s love isn’t earned, or bought, or won. It is given in Jesus Christ. Even to an infant—who can’t do much except eat drink sleep and poop. Especially to an infant—it is clear then that God’s love comes from God’s grace.

Can it really be that easy? YES! Am I saying that you don’t have to keep the commandments in order to be loved by God? YES! No shoulds? No should nots? Not a one. In fact not being able to keep them drives you closer to God’s mercy. What was it that Paul said in today’s reading from Romans? What I know I shouldn’t do I do. And what I should do I don’t. Who will save me from this wretched existence? Jesus Christ, my Lord! Can it really be that easy? Yes!

That’s the gospel message for today. But just quickly on this kickoff Sunday for Messiah’s 25^th anniversary celebration, let me talk about vision and mission. And I start by reminding you that…

Some things we think are going to be hard, and therefore avoid like the plague, are really simple once you give them a go.

You’ve talked about Messiah’s vision and mission before. Several times. It may seem to some that to revisit this again is a waste of time, not worth the effort, and too much trouble. Well the mission is already mapped out for us. Which is a little cart before the horse, but it’s a mission that is fluid and capable of flexibility as our vision is developed.

You might recognize the mission statement—it used to be the vision statement.  It’s easy to remember cause it rhymes. Also because it’s on big signs here in the nave. INVITE CARE GROW SHARE. Invite people to experience Christ. Care for those around us. Grow in faith and knowledge of God. And share our God given gifts with the world. INVITE CARE GROW SHARE.

INVITE CARE GROW SHARE.

What is our vision? It is a past to cherish and learn from. It is only a dream in the present  But it is a future to work towards. And forming that vision, discerning what God wants us to be, who we want to be in this community, that sounds like hard work. A brain buster. But it won’t be. Why not?

Because we have as our firm foundation Jesus, and we know we are Christ’s body in the world. Jesus’ yoke is easy and his burden is light. He will do the heavy lifting. And the vision will be there waiting.

Is it foolish to think that God will provide a vision for the future of Messiah? No. Can it really be that easy? Yes it can, and by the time we gather on November 20^th to celebrate our 25^th, we will all know that vision and commit to that mission. And you know what you’ll say about the whole process, __________. (That was easy)

What will we say? THAT WAS EASY!!!!

After all, it’s not rocket surgery. AMEN.

Pentecost 2A   06/26/11

Matt 10:40-42

Grace and peace to you from God our Father, and from our savior, Jesus the Christ.

Are you familiar with the notion of Six Degrees of Separation? The concept is that every individual on the planet can be linked to another person in six relational steps. That is, by who you know, or who you have been associated with. You may also recall the silly sister to this theory, proposed tongue-in-cheek by a certain Hollywood actor, which postulated that all of Hollywood could be traced back to him in six steps. Remember the Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon?

Now many a mathematician pooh-poohed this theory. Said it was a hoax and not based on sound statistics or algorithms. But then software giant Microsoft jumped into the fray. Microsoft analyzed a sample of electronic messages and determined that the concept is valid. Well, close to it. For you engineers out there the number of links in the chain between two randomly chosen people world-wide is actually 6.6. Researchers looked at Microsoft Instant Message traffic involving 180 million people, from various countries, 30 billion messages—all from the month of June 2006. And their calculations determined that any of us here in this room is a mere seven introductions away from, say, the Dali Lama, or sadly, Pee Wee Herman. (Of course those of you on Facebook know this already, especially you “friend-hoarders.”)

That’s all well and good. But. Did you know there’s a Christian version of Six (or 6.6) Degrees of Separation? No, it’s not a part of that Christian dating service that they’re advertising nowadays. No, this is from way back. So far back that Jesus described it himself. And it’s right in our brief but brilliant gospel reading for today. You might call it Three Degrees of Connection. It goes something like this (well, really it goes exactly like this):

“Whoever welcomes you, welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes the one who sent me.”

Let’s look at this for a moment.  Define some vocabulary.

Whoever – meaning in Jesus’ time anyone from a king to a priest, fisherman, leper, widow, Roman centurion or whoever. Whoever the sent out disciples encounter along the way. [Note however that initially they are sent out only to the “lost sheep of Israel.” Matt 10:5-6]

Welcomes – shows hospitality to, according to custom mainly by providing shelter, protection, food and drink and washing the feet of visitors. Hospitality was a two way street, though, and warmly welcomed guests were obligated to express good wishes to their host and his family. This exchange, cemented with the sharing of a meal, makes the host and guest equal—despite each one’s social standing. Sorta like  when we say, “You’re part of the family.” This is the first point of connection.

You  – in this case you refers to one of Jesus’ followers, the 12, sent out with Jesus’ kingdom message, and instructed to heal, exorcise demons and raise the dead.

Welcomes – Whoever welcomes you welcomes… Here Jesus means accepting the message and believing that he is Messiah.

Me – He is referring to him

self, obviously. If they show hospitality to the disciples it is the same as if it was Jesus. Connection number two.

and whoever welcomes me – meaning the one who welcomed the messenger and the message.

Welcomes – The one who showed hospitality and accepted the disciples’ message, is related through those apostles, to Jesus—who is the Son. In welcoming the Son, they welcome also

The one who sent me – the father, God. Three degrees of connection.

Now, it is a dizzying enough fact that each of us is separated by a mere seven acquaintances from the likes of Billy Graham, Big Poppi, or Lady Gaa Gaa. But it is a mind-blowing, earth-shaking, rock your socks revelation that we are linked so simply to God. God almighty. Not talking God played by Morgan Freeman or George Burns. The God of Abraham and Jacob, the God who created and redeemed and guides, GOD.

[Brief aside – it was George Burns who said that “the secret of a good sermon is to have  good beginning and a good ending; and to have the two as close together as possible.]

We are that close to God. And the funny thing is—that’s not even the extent of the grace that is so abundant in this small gospel. Grace in this passage is like maple syrup poured on pancakes by little children. It saturates our lives, it puddles up in its prodigal excess, it gets spread everywhere, and it sticks to everything! The fact that we, by grace and faith in Jesus Christ, welcome God and are welcomed by God, is yet only part of the good news in this text.

And that’s fortuitous, because Jesus’ three degrees of connection leave us with a nagging question. How much welcome is enough? Hospitality in Jesus’ time was more than a suggestion. It was an obligation for the host and in return an obligation of the guest. Showing strangers hospitality was the duty of a host—even if it meant hardship for him. Case in point: Lot houses two strangers in his Sodom bungalow, and when the men of Sodom come a knocking, he does something shocking. Offers his daughters in place of them. That’s how important hospitality was.

So, what kind of a welcome does “whoever” (as in whoever welcomes you) have to give in order to be entered in God’s friend list? Can it ever be enough?  Jesus is good enough to answer that one for us with his next statement.

Whoever gives a prophet’s welcome in the name of a prophet, gets a prophet’s reward

Whoever gives a righteous person’s welcome in the name of a righteous man, gets a righteous man’s reward.

All right then, the prophets were hardly popular guys, and no one was really actually glad to see them. But they carried God’s word and are therefore worthy of hospitality That, I believe, is what Jesus is stressing here. Welcoming prophets which is pleasing to God, gets you a prophet’s reward. In the kingdom, that is. Sitting up there with Elijah and Moses.

In the same way welcoming a righteous man—a good spiritual ethical kind of person—is  hospitality to the max. Welcoming a righteous man is like welcoming the Boston Bruins back to Boston. You do it up. And because you welcomed him, you get the same reward.

Now, remember Jesus is talking to the disciples here. He’s describing just what kind of welcome is adequate to enact the three degrees of connection. We are playing the part of Whoever. The ones doing the welcoming. The reward is for Whoever. That part was for the disciples  But the next lines are for a bigger audience. The grammar reveals that. He says:

And anyone who gives even a cup of cold water to one of these little ones, in my name, certainly none of these will lose the reward. These little ones—he’s no longer speaking to “the you” but rather about the you. None of these—that is all the “whoevers.”

Who gets the welcoming reward. The overachievers, yeah. The theologically astute, yeah. The etiquette equipped, yeah boy.  And you know what? Even the ones who do the very least you could do—give a cup of cold water—which cost nothing and required no labor (drawing water was women’s work), even those whose welcome is simple empathy for the thirsty little ones (the apostles) even they—will not lose the reward of the kingdom of God.

So what kind of welcome is required? Minimal, basically just a turn in the right direction. Now many have preached this text as one that encourages doing whatever the equivalent of giving a cup of cold water is today. Handing out sandwiches for the homeless, doing a fundraiser for charity. But I am not trekking down that path today. Why? because we should do more for people than just the bare minimum—and we do here at Messiah. I believe what you should take away from this encounter with scripture is two-fold…

1. That you needn’t worry about your “reward,” even the lamest response is acceptable. Because the reward doesn’t come as a response to our action. It comes as a result of God’s action. We’re connected to God irrevocably by Jesus. God will never unfriend” us.

2. And finally, with the shoe on the other foot—us in the place of the disciples—the welcome we receive as apostles will be varied and surprising. Those “whoevers” really do turn out to be whoever. People in the market. People at work. People at community jam. People invested heavily in knowing Jesus and who welcome him into their lives joyfully. And people who are tentative, incredulous, and who only want to stick a big toe in the church to test it for hospitality.

What can we do to welcome the welcoming? Lots. The possibilities are endless. But most of all, we should proclaim Christ. In what we say and do and spend and live. So that in their welcome to us, they might experience the welcome of God in Christ Jesus.

AMEN

Holy Trinity A 6/19/11

Matthew 28:20

Blessed be you, in the name of the father and of the son and of the holy spirit.

We could talk Holy Trinity, you and I. For hours. Days.

We could talk hypostases, personas, essence. Words with very precise meanings.

We could debate the finer points of  the creedal formulations concerning the Trinity. The rich nuances of Theology and Christology and Soteriology and Pneumatology. As did the Cappadocian brothers and Athanasius and the whole church gathered in council at Nicaea.

Yes, we could talk of the Holy Trinity, you and I. Three in one and one in three.

Forever.

And when forever was past, all our fancy language, and all our symbolic representations would still fall short of describing the Triune God.

The Trinity is a mystery.

And that’s okay.

We know what we need to know. We know what God has seen fit to reveal to us. We know, deep in our being, without words, without symbols. We know. We know that Father, Son, and Spirit, three, are totally relational, one. As if they were three dancers dancing in perfect unison.

But there is a fourth in the dance of the Trinity.

Us.

We are free to relate with God. To be in relationship with God. To create alongside the Father. To pray to Jesus. To be gathered by the Spirit into the church. God relates to us. Constantly. Infinitely.

Inconceivable!

Yes, we could talk of the Trinity, you and I. At length. After all this is the Sunday of the Holy Trinity. A Sunday dedicated to a doctrine of the church.  The only Sunday thus dedicated. And it’s usually marked by the Pastor’s valiant attempt to describe the indescribable, and the people’s subsequent confusion over that which can never be fully understood.

But not this time.

Instead of “Trinity,” I will speak of a word that is not used to explain the nature of God, although it is implied by the relational nature of the Triune God. It is a very simple word, one used in today’s readings—quite specifically by Matthew, but also by Paul. It is a small word—one syllable of comfort, hope, strength, and radical inclusiveness.

The word is “with.”

Jesus said, “Remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age.”

I am with you.  With.

I am not alone. You…are not alone.

Jesus is with us always.

In good times, and bad. When you are well, and when you are dying. When your first child is born, and the very day that child learns to say the word “no.”  Jesus is with us.

AND SO, God is with us always. With the guidance of the Spirit. With the forgiveness of the Son. With the re-creation of our broken lives by the Father.

With. Matthew’s gospel emphatically stresses this “with-ness” by using it as bookends to the story. The angel who visits Joseph in the very beginning of Matthew, states that the child will be called “Emmanuel,” which means “God is with us.” “Remember I am always with you…” is the last line of Matthew’s account. Like an bright bit of ribbon, with wraps the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus together in a neat relational package, beginning and ending with us and God.

We are not alone.

Paul invokes and promises God’s presence in 2^nd Corinthians, telling his fledgling churches that in loving one another, God is with them. And that the peace and grace that comes from God, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, both are with them as they struggle to be witnesses to Christ Jesus.

God is with us.

And with is not a difficult word to explain, or to understand, for that matter. With means with—alongside, present, attending and attentive. God is with us, and we are with God. Not in the same way that we will be with God when God is all in all. But with God in our worship, our prayer, our service to others, our attentiveness to the word, and our use of the sacraments.

Can you feel God with you now?

God is with us in this place.

The Father is with you.

God’s Spirit is with you.

And Jesus is with you.

Always.

To the end.

In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, amen

Pentecost 2011  06/12/11

Acts 2: 11b, John 20:19-23

Grace and peace be with you, from our heavenly Father, from our savior Jesus Christ, and from our advocate and guide Holy Spirit.

Today is Pentecost. The last in the triple crown of Christian major feast days—Christmas, Easter, and Pentecost. And I’m sure you’ve been preparing for and eagerly anticipating this happy day for months now.

No doubt you finished your Pentecost shopping early—you even found the perfect Pentecost present for your sister in St. Louis. (She’s so hard to shop for!) Getting that shopping done left plenty of time for all those other Pentecost festivities…

Like decorating the house inside and out, with strings of red flashing “tongues of fire”  Pentecost lights, with a Pentecost palm tree—complete with a porcelain white dove affixed to the uppermost frond, with displays of Pentecost cards, and a chocolate St. Peter. (I always eat his ears first—seems like poetic justice what with that incident involving  Malthus in the garden of Gethsemane!)

And don’t forget all those wonderful Pentecost family traditions—like the annual Pentecost Holy Spirit Hunt, gathering around the old spinet piano to sing our favorite Pentecost carols (Away in an Upper Room, Noisy Morning, Jesus Christ is risen 50 Days Ago, and of course the beloved Holy Spirit is coming to town) and it wouldn’t be a holiday without a rich and tasty Pentecost feast with all the trimmings—roast beef (rare), beets, tomato salad, Grandma’s famous watermelon compote, and the piece de resistance – a festive jiggling bowl of strawberry jello,

And then it’s off to worship. Ahh, the sanctuary decked out in its Pentecost finery, the smell of geraniums in the air, all the “smells and bells” that go along with such a high holy day as Pentecost. It’s fun to watch the Christmas/Easter/Pentecost Lutherans juggle bulletins and hymn books. They can’t figure out why the readings are always the same when they come to church! And don’t forget the Pentecost Pageant—aren’t the little ones just precious? Especially the one who played the Holy Spirit and almost set St. Peter’s hair on fire.

A perfect Pentecost. God bless us, everyone.

If that description of Pentecost reminded you of George Costanza’s celebration of the faux festival Festivus (the holiday for the rest of us), you are tracking right along with me. Except this is Pentecost—the Holy Day that we lost. Today is Pentecost  Yes, and…

I’m going to go out on a limb and conjecture that not all of you in this church this morning have a clear grasp of the meaning and importance of Pentecost. Beyond a bird, a wind, and some fire, all somehow combining to have us sing Happy Birthday Dear Church, many of us here—good Christians all—many of us know very little about this day. Many probably didn’t even know today was Pentecost before they read it in the bulletin. But that wouldn’t have made much difference. It’s not a scheduling dilemma. It’s a language issue.

We have trouble deciphering and interpreting our own “language” of Christianity. By that I don’t mean ancient Hebrew or Koine Greek, the languages of the bible, but instead the words and phrases that are key to our faith. Words that are used in hymns, and liturgies, and the readings and prayers, and in our dialog with the secular world. Words like grace, faith, sin, salvation. To name just a few.

What is causing this breakdown in communication? Marcus Borg, who I’ll admit is a provocative scholar and author—, Borg has written a book called Speaking Christian: why Christian words have lost their meaning and power—and how they can be restored. In it he points to several factors that contribute to this disconnect. And I think he’s spot on this time (because he agrees with me in this!)

It’s not because you are unintelligent (stupid). For some it is because their family of origin had only minimal exposure to Christianity. So maybe they have a spotty Sunday School career at best, possibly nothing further at home, and they picked up what they know from TV evangelists, documentaries, and the memorable things others say about God (in sermons and other situations). For others, there may have been no exposure to the faith. Self-described  Christians, yet have only been in church for weddings and funerals. These folks never learned the lingo.

The church also plays a role in this  by not insisting on every member’s further exploration of their relationship with God. By excusing the stagnation of faith. And true too, the church is liable by not providing adequate outlets for discernment and devotion and well-thought-out inlets, e.g. educational programs that meet people’s varying learning styles and schedules. Lately it seems the church, with its focus on mission, and in its haste to help people, neglects its primary duty—proclaiming the gospel. But what does that mean?

Well, if we’re having trouble with this faith language of ours, take it as a certainty that those we seek to share the story of God with are neither understanding it, nor are they making a connection between it and their modern day lives. The age old question used heavily by our evangelical brothers and sisters, “Are you saved?”, which in the past garnered a simple yes or no response, now is likely to draw these reactions. Saved? What’s that? Saved from what? By whom?

It’s like we’re speaking in a different language. Brings to mind that old cartoon – first frame, a dog and his owner. The owner is saying “Spot, sit and stay—Spot, sit and stay and I’ll give you a treat.” Next frame we see what the dog’s is “hearing.” He hears, “SPOT…blah,blah,blah…SPOT bla, blah, blah…TREAT.” Not that non-Christians are base animals—far from it. People these days are highly educated in comparison those in, say, the previous five or six centuries. Nowadays, they ask questions at which a simple faith balks. They are not satisfied with trite answers, or patronizing comments, or unexamined platitudes, and especially not with high pressure, scripted proselytizing. And they have no idea what it is we’re trying to tell them.

Maybe that’s because we have only a slightly more advanced understanding of the Christian lingo. Even if we grew up in the church and were immersed in the faith—we still suffer from the misinterpretation and misunderstanding of our own faith language. A hefty percentage of us interpret Christian, as we do English, according to what Borg calls a framework. A framework is what informs your definition of words. For instance, Borg says the word elephant means one thing to a person interpreting through the frame work of Indian culture, but another to republicans.

The problem with our present day Christian framework is that it is an outdated framework. It’s based on medieval concepts of sin, sacrifice, salvation, and afterlife. This framework has frozen us in time, rendering our witness to Jesus unintelligible to the modern humanistic mind set and world view.

So we need to brush up on our Christian-speak, not only if we want to enjoy the richness of the word ourselves, but more importantly, if we want to proclaim Christ to all who will listen. And that’s what we want to do, right?

That was not very convincing. I know, I know—you’re hung up on the reasons you can’t witness to Christ. Mainly the fear of rejection. But you need to realize that our loosening grip on the command of our language is at fault for that rejection. I suspect that more than a few of you here this morning can’t reconcile what you were taught about God, and what you as a 21^st century person intuits God to be.

Basically you fear evangelism because you have trouble sticking to the “party line” because you find it is anachronistic. Maybe you have your own questions about our faith and how modern life is addressed by it. Perhaps you feel deep in the pit of your soul that the present framework is wobbly and no longer able to draw in people who are drowning in today’s problems and pestered by today’s complex questions. It is no longer compelling

How can you expect others to give their lives over to something we present in terms that are so foreign to today’s thoughts that even we find it difficult if not impossible to explain? If you’d agree with that, then you will also agree that we need to fix it.

And how do we do that? Well I haven’t got up to that chapter in the book yet, so I can’t tell you what Borg suggests! And I haven’t developed up to date definitions for the important words in Christian. But I think we should accept that the framework under which we operate is not monolithic. And that we can reconstruct it to serve a new generation.

Not that we bend to the modern day secular culture. What I’m suggesting is more incarnational. God entered into a messy, mixed-up world in Jesus, not to lower himself—but to raise the world up again. In the same way, we adapt, restore and redeem our Christian language according to a modern day world view, in order to restore and redeem it. Not to be assimilated by the world. But to facilitate its transformation.

Hefty job. Again—how do we do it, and even more important, where’s the gospel for me and for you in all this? Since this is Pentecost, it is fitting that the Holy Spirit be involved.  The Holy Spirit came upon the disciples as they sat in a room, hidden away from the world, and like a rushing wind it propelled them out into the city. But it didn’t send them out unprepared for the world they would meet. The Spirit gave them the power to make themselves understood by the crowds.

Note: the spirit made the disciples understandable to the world as it was then. It didn’t make the crowd understand—it made the disciples’ message about Jesus understandable. The gift of the spirit is the “how” in how do we do it. The Holy spirit is also the word of good news for us–because, as we see in the gospel text from John, it comes from the Father and is the new way Jesus is present to his followers, from those first disciples all the way down to the youngest newly baptized baby. Present not only here—where he has promised to be in the bread and the wine, but present in the world—at work, at school, at the Boston Bruins hockey game, at the homeless shelter, and at Palm Beach mansions. The Spirit brings the good news that God saturates this world with love. And the Spirit also brings the means to opening the world’s eyes to that fact by making our message understandable.

So the Spirit is key to the restoration of our faith language. Jesus’ three-fold action in today’s gospel can serve as an outline for getting there. First he greets the disciples with “Peace be with you,” a statement that reflects our relationship with God thanks to Jesus. Then he sends them out to continue to spread the gospel. But Jesus doesn’t send them out unequipped. Jesus breathes on them and says, “Receive the Holy Spirit.” This harkens back to the creation of humanity, and represents  a new beginning, as well as humankind’s partnership with God in tending that creation

Peace—with god and with each other. Peace is the starting point. We need to know we are at peace with each other and with God before we start addressing the mission field. Jesus brings God’s peace. We are responsible for establishing peace in the church.

Sent out—there’s nothing ambiguous about that. But we need to go out with a message that is understandable and compelling to modern ears. So…

Receive the Holy Spirit. We need to let the Spirit guide us–both in speaking Christian, and in renewing age old constructs that aren’t always helpful.

Here we sit in a room, together—trying to determine what to do next. I say we pray for the Holy Spirit to guide us. I say we pray for those who do not follow Christ, but might, if they could relate to him. I say we pray for the renewal of our faith language so that we might have a clearer idea of the tenets of our church. I say we pray. That’s good start. The rest I look to the spirit to provide. Come Holy Spirit! AMEN