beatitudes – Salvaged Faith

To Whom does the Kingdom Belong?

Posted on November 1, 2020Leave a comment

Text: Matthew 5:1-12

A month or so, one of you asked me a pretty simple and yet very difficult question:
Why don’t we talk more about heaven?

One reason is there is simply a lot we don’t know about the life that awaits us.
We have a lot of metaphor and imagery in our scripture and we have a strong sense of being present with God, but I can’t answer any concrete questions about what comes next.
So, personally, it feels like something I feel ill equipped to talk about.

I also started to think about how there is a strong narrative in the culture at large that focuses on our eternal rewards and the life that awaits us after we die.
We live our lives, we believe in God, we do the best we can, and when we die, we go to heaven and spend eternity with God.
With this kind of understanding, if this life is merely temporary, we probably should be talking a whole lot more about the life that awaits us.

Except, when we really dive into our scriptures, that really isn’t what our faith teaches.

Our scriptures do not talk of heaven as something that we wait for, but something that we begin to experience right here and right now.
The message of the prophets consistently proclaimed a kingdom upon this earth, under the heavens, with all nations gathering and all of creation being filled with the knowledge of God.
When the ministry of Christ starts, he proclaims that the “Kingdom of God is at hand.”
In the Lord’s Prayer, we say every single week: “Thy Kingdom come, Thy will be done ON EARTH as it is in heaven.”
Brian McClaren reminds us that the Greek term “Zoein aionian” is often translated as eternal life in the New Testament, but it isn’t meant to refer to life after death. Instead, it is literally, “life of the ages” which we should compare with a sense of “life in the present age.”
We see a contrast between these two ideas in the Gospel of John – we are either of the world or of God or heaven – but as Jesus tells Nicodemus, we enter that life in God when we are born of the Spirit, not when we die.
Eternal life, abundant life, “true aliveness” as McClaren puts it, is found also in the writings of Paul whenever he talks about fullness and life in the Spirit and freedom.
Even the book of Revelation tells us of a new heaven and a new earth where God will come down from heaven to make a home among us.
Our hymnody reminds us that heaven is something we experience right now. Charles Wesley, in his famous hymn, “O For a Thousand Tongues to Sing” calls us to anticipate our heaven below and own that love is heaven.

So, why don’t we talk more about heaven?
In some ways, we are always talking about it… even if we aren’t using that word.
Every week, when we talk about how God invites us right here and right now, to step into that abundant life.
We constantly focus on what it means to embody God’s will on earth.
We point to the Kingdom of God that is already here, even if not fully.

But I think the real reason that we avoid exploring the Kingdom of Heaven we find in scripture is because it challenges our faith.
It turns our world upside down.
It pushes us beyond that quaint and comfortable idea that I can simply live my life, doing the best I can, and someday I’ll be with God in heaven.

If, instead of some far off reality, heaven is something we experience right here and right now, how would that change the way we live?
What would it mean if God is with us right now in everything we do?
How would it change how we treat one another?
How would it challenge the decisions we make every day?
Over the next month in worship, we are going to exploring the Gospel of Matthew and what he calls the Kingdom of Heaven.
During five weeks of daily devotions, we are going deeper into the text and studying every mention of this Kingdom so that we might discover what it means for our lives right now.

Today, on All Saints Sunday, we begin with the Beatitudes.
“Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.”

Right here. Right now.
Those who are the poor in spirit, those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake.
Already the Kingdom of Heaven belongs to them.
It’s theirs.
They experience it.
They know it.
They live in it.
These blessings that Jesus is proclaiming “bring into being the reality they declare,” writes Eugene Boring (NIB, Vol 8, p177).
God has brought it to them.

In many ways, I think what Jesus is doing here is demonstrating a contrast between the values of this world and the values of God’s Kingdom.
Those Jesus calls “blessed” are not blessed by worldly standards.
The world tells us we should focus on our happiness, not our grief.
The world tells us our leaders should be strong, not meek.
The world tells us we should strive for a better economy, not more righteousness.
The world tells us we should seek retribution, not mercy.
As David Lose puts it in his commentary, “Jesus seems to invite us to call into question … all the categories with which we structure our life, navigate our decisions, and judge those around us.”
Jesus is challenging the way this world, our culture, views blessing and power and success.
And Jesus proclaims a new reality.
Jesus calls us to repent.
To turn around.
To totally change our lives.
To renounce our citizenship in the world and to embrace life in a different kind of Kingdom.
To be people of mercy and humility and love and boldness and grace and peace.

The problem is… we have a really hard time letting go of this world.
We like living in a world defined by what we can see and hold.
We like our individual freedoms.
We like the sense of control we have from drawing borders and distinctions.
And you know what, in this time of national division, this is a really perverse part of ourselves that actually likes fighting and arguing with those who disagree with us.
We relish the conflict and are so immersed in the outcome of this one national election as if one way or another it might save us.

But friends, the only one who can save us is Jesus.
This nation is simply one more kingdom of the earth.
I do believe that this election matters and I believe our votes matter and I believe that there are real impacts to who wins or loses.
And you and I might completely disagree about those outcomes or impacts.

But whoever wins or loses, here is what I know and believe:
It doesn’t change how Jesus calls us to live.
Kingdom of Heaven is about abundance for those who have nothing…
comfort for those who are grieving…
justice for the oppressed…
mercy for the troublemakers….
It is about peace and humility and openness and love…
It is about choosing to walk with God every single day.
And if we decide to live in that Kingdom, we might find ourselves in conflict with this world.
We might find ourselves in conflict with people that we love.
But even in those moments, Jesus calls us to rejoice, because this world has no ultimate power over our lives.

I’m reminded that the Beatutides are not just a check-list of attitudes or habits.
This is a whole life transformation.
And God doesn’t ask us to do it on our own.
God is moving in our midst and by the power of the Holy Spirit, God is constantly equipping us and growing us and challenging us and forming us into Kingdom people.
God is already actively turning this world upside down.
And we have a glimpse of that Kingdom of Heaven reality on days like today.
You see, every time we break bread with the communion of saints, we remember that those we have lost this year are not really gone from us.
They might be beyond our physical reach, but they fully exist in God’s presence and we are connected today by “something that transcends our immediate experience.” (David Lose)
We have an opportunity to proclaim our confidence that “God’s love and life are more powerful and enduring than the hate, disappointment, and death that seems at times to surround us.”
And right here at this table, we are fed by grace a meal that has the ability to transform us.
To change the way we see one another.
To transport us into a new reality.
It is an invitation to be blessed.
A call to life.
Life abundant.
Life in the Kingdom of Heaven.

Under Dogs, Top Dogs, and the Kingdom of God

Posted on March 11, 20181 Comment

In 1887, a new term was coined in the English speaking world – the “underdog.”
This was the opposite of the top dog –the dominant person in a situation or hierarchy, the winner, the victor in a fight or contest of wills.
The term likely comes from the world of dog fighting, but soon the phrase was applied to politics, games, matches, and life in general.

We have seen the term “underdog” change from describing the outcome of a contest to the expectations for the outcome….
The underdog is the one who is expected to lose.
The underdog is the one facing the uphill battle.
The underdog is the victim of injustice who starts off at a disadvantage.
The underdog doesn’t have the power, the money, the strength, or the system on their side.

And our scriptures are full of underdogs:
people who march into battle with nothing but slingshots to face a giant…
people who head into the seats of power as prophets…
people who fight with trumpets instead of swords…
who are not afraid of what might happen to their own lives if they speak the truth…

Our gospel reading this morning is Luke’s version of the Beatitudes and in many ways, Jesus is calling the people of God to become underdogs.
Instead of aligning ourselves with the rich and powerful – those who have everything in this world…
we are called to become poor, hungry, and despised by the world.
We are called to side with the “have-nots.”

There we find the kingdom of God.
There we will be blessed.

We’ve been exploring throughout this season of Lent some of the superheroes that fill our cultural imagination. We’ve heard about Batman’s fight against evil, the way Spiderman tries to do what is right. Last week, we talked about how Wonder Woman offers a vision of unity.

A common thread of these heroes is that they side with the underdogs of this world. They help to bring justice to the oppressed, are strength for those who are weak, and offer protection for the vulnerable.

Our superhero this week, however, took a long time to understand this reality.
In a world of haves and have-nots, Tony Stark lived at the top of the heap.
Wealthy beyond measure, leading a successful technology company, everything he could ever want at his fingertips, there was nothing in this world that could stop him.

Had Mr. Stark been present in the time of Jesus he would have been the subject of those warnings towards the rich and well-fed, who think that life is all fun and games.

But something changed for Mr. Stark. During a demonstration of his latest weapons in some remote country, his caravan was attacked, he was captured, and he sustained life-threatening injuries.

But he put his knowledge to work and modified the weapons around him to not only create a battery that would keep him alive, but also a suit that would help him escape.

In the process, he realized that all his wealth and power was coming at the expense of other people. The weapons that made his company so successful were not always being used for good and just ends.

When he finally makes it back home, he holds a press conference and vows to change the way his company works.

I find it interesting how he even sits down, humbling himself, being real and authentic and inviting people to also sit down so they can chat.

His experience has changed him and he wants to change his ways and put his gifts to use for good rather than simply wealth.

But, Tony Stark doesn’t always get it right.

As he continues to work and develop the technology to become Iron Man, Matt Rawle reminds us in “What Makes a Hero?” that “he doesn’t quite overcome his human faults. He doesn’t always get right from wrong. He is phenomenally wealthy, but sometimes he exploits those who aren’t as fortunate. He has developed amazingly powerful weapons and armor, but he doesn’t always use those to fight for the purest of social causes.” (p. 79)

And perhaps that is because until the moment that he was captured and fighting for his very life, Tony Stark has never been an underdog. Even in that moment, he had all of the knowledge and technology that he needed at his finger tips in order to successfully get out of the situation.

Any other ordinary person would have been lost in such a situation.

Even when everything appeared to have been taken from him, Tony Stark still belonged to the world of the “haves.”

Even in that moment he appeared to have been blessed.

In our society, the language of blessing often points to those who have, not the have-nots.

We are blessed by children.
We are blessed by health.
We are blessed by friends and family.
We are blessed by wealth and possessions.

And yet, by claiming these things as a blessing can unintentionally say that those who are without such things are not blessed.

One of my best friends in the entire world struggles with infertility. She and her husband have been trying for years to have a child, including expensive visits to doctors in other states for treatments.

When those around them speak of the blessing of children, it is hard to not inwardly cringe and because it feels like the implication is that they haven’t likewise been blessed by God.

Many among us struggle with health concerns that seem to pile on top of one another. The language of blessing often makes them feel forgotten by God’s outpouring of blessings.

But this is because we have bought into the language of the world and not the language of God. We think that blessings are gifts of status… that blessings are rewards for good behavior… that blessings come as a result of who we are or how loved we are.

But Jesus turns our understandings of blessings upside down.

It is the hungry and the poor and the grieving and the weak who are blessed in God’s kingdom.
It is those who are without who are the closest to God’s love and power.

They don’t take for granted what God offers. They know its true value. And they know what it means to share.

Matt Rawle invites us to reject the way that society uses the language of blessing and instead to talk about gratitude and thankfulness for the gifts in our lives.

I’m thankful for my health today.
Even though I, personally, don’t have children, I can still be thankful for the opportunity to teach children and I’m unbelievably thankful for my nieces and nephews.
I’m thankful for the gifts God has given me like the ability to sing and preach.

This language leaves room for others, whether they have or have not, to also express their gratitude for what is in their lives in that moment.

Gratitude is a lesson that is sometimes hard for the “haves” of this world to express.

Tony Stark takes everything for granted. It is expected that people will adore him and that he will have everything he need.

It is also the reason it takes him so long to truly appreciate and learn to love his assistant, Pepper Potts.

Until he faces death and realizes that he has something different to offer this world.

One of the things we saw in that video clip is that in this moment Tony Stark begins to reflect upon his life and his relationships, even turning his eyes back to his father, wondering what he would have thought of all they had done. He had never thought to ask the question or to appreciate the role his father played in his life before this moment.

When we learn to be grateful for the gifts that have been given to us, instead of just accepting them as blessings – as rewards for what we have already accomplished, then we also learn how to share them with others.

One of the ways that Jesus calls us is by inviting the people of God to use their gifts and their talents for the sake of others.

It is not that the rich are forever condemned… but that they will always be outside of the Kingdom of God unless they let go of their status and allow the line between the haves and the have-nots to disappear.

In God’s Kingdom, that line fades into the distance.
The poor are blessed because the wealthy share.
The mournful are comforted because others offer comfort – like folks from our church did this weekend by hosting a funeral and a luncheon for a complete stranger.

As Matt Rawle points out, this isn’t because God is like Robin Hood, stealing from the wealthy and giving to the poor, but because God invites every one of us to share our very selves with one another. We all have gifts to offer one another that go far beyond wealth or power.

Iron Man’s suit is a tool of the “haves” that fights for the “havenots” – but the difference between Christ and Tony Stark is that Jesus doesn’t put on a suit in order to fight for us.

Jesus empties himself.
Jesus becomes like those he is saving.
Jesus dives into our suffering and hunger and pain.

And there, in the midst of our lives, we are blessed by the presence of Jesus who teaches us what the Kingdom truly means.

Sermon on the Mount: Blessed

Posted on January 22, 2017Leave a comment

This morning, friends, you and I find ourselves in a season called “Ordinary Time”

That is the actual liturgical name for this time in the church year: Ordinary Time.

And so, last fall, we decided to spend this Ordinary Time – this season between Christmas and Epiphany on the one side and Lent on the other to explore a sermon about ordinary things given to ordinary people.

Last week, we talked briefly about the calling of a few of the disciples – ordinary people, fishermen – and how they brought others along to follow Jesus. And they followed Jesus all throughout Galilee, where he taught in synagogues and proclaimed the Kingdom of God and healed people along the way.

And the crowds kept growing and people kept talking and inviting and bringing their friends and neighbors and siblings.

And Jesus looks around at all of those ordinary people who were following him that day – at the crowds of ordinary people – and goes up the mountain just like Moses and sits down to teach them.

In what we have come to know as the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus talks about the faith of ordinary people. In the gospel of Matthew, chapters 5, 6, and 7, we find Jesus using everyday, ordinary language to talk about how we should live out the laws of the Hebrew Scriptures, about how we should treat each other, about how we should share this good news we are finding. Over the course of these next few weeks, we might not always look at the sermon in the exact order Jesus did, but today we are going to start at the beginning.

And Jesus starts with what we have come to know as the Beatitudes.

A beatitude, a blessing, declares that certain people – based on their current circumstances, either are or will be blessed. Eugene Boring writes in his commentary on Matthew that “they do not merely describe something that already is, but bring into being the reality they declare.” (NIB, Vol 8, p 177) And these words are true not because of anything we have done to be in these circumstances, but because God is acting in the world, because Jesus has said it to be true. In fact, these are not even virtues or characteristics, like the fruits of the spirit, that we are supposed to strive towards or embody, they simply name the reality of real people.

Today, I want to lead you into a bit of reflection. I want to invite you, ordinary people, to find yourselves at the feet of Jesus hearing these words. I want to invite you to close your eyes and imagine yourself hearing that sermon for the first time. I want to invite you to ask where you are in this story. (NLT translation + “Blessed are”)

Blessed are those who are poor and realize their need for him, for the Kingdom of Heaven is theirs.

Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.

Blessed are those who are humble, for they will inherit the whole earth.

Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for justice, for they will be satisfied.

Blessed are those who are merciful, for they will be shown mercy.

Blessed are those whose hearts are pure, for they will see God.

Blessed are those who work for peace, for they will be called the children of God.

Blessed are those who are persecuted for doing right, for the Kingdom of Heaven is theirs.

Blessed are you when people mock you and persecute you and lie about you and say all sorts of evil things against you because you are my followers. ¹²Be happy about it! Be very glad! For a great reward awaits you in heaven. And remember, the ancient prophets were persecuted in the same way.

Where are you in these blessings?

Are you the poor? Are you mouring?

Are you the humble who are not only content with everything that you have but who are grateful for your abundance?

Are you someone who is hungering and thirsting for justice? Or the person who is showing mercy towards people who don’t deserve it?

Is your heart pure? Are you working for peace?

Are you someone who is living out your faith in such a way that people in this world turn against you because of that faith?

Then blessed are you. Blessed by God.

The question is, how are those blessings conveyed? How do we receive them?

Eugene Boring writes that these are both future promises, but they are also the lived realities of those who participate in the community of Christ. The mourning are comforted. Justice is realized. Those who seek peace find their place in the family of God.

And so we are invited not only to see ourselves as the ones who are poor or hungry for justice or mourning or merciful… as the people of God, as the Body of Christ, as the church that anticipates the Kingdom of God… we are also invited to see ourselves as ones who God uses to brings these blessings to others. This is what discipleship looks like… this is what the Kingdom looks like.

And this is why as we near the end of Matthew’s gospel we find Jesus, seated on the heavenly throne, ushering in the Kingdom of God. And he looks around at those crowds of people, those nations who are gathered once again at his feet. He looks around for the people who have done ordinary acts of faith and love and care. He looks around for the ones who have helped to usher in the Kingdom right here on earth.

Come, you that are blessed… for I was hungry and you fed me. I was thirsty and you gave me a drink. I was a stranger and you welcomed me. I was naked and you clothed me. I was sick and you cared for me, imprisoned and you visited me.

Church, this is our job. Our job is to be people who share God’s blessing with the world. Our job is to seek out those who are struggling and mourning, who are in pain and longing for justice. And we are to remind them they are not alone. We are to walk with them. We are to stand with them. We are to be the living embodiment of God’s will, a walking answer to the prayer that God’s will be done on earth as it is in heaven. You and I, that is our job.

This morning, are you yearning for a blessing? Are you stuck and struggling and seeking God?

Then the good news is you are surrounded by people of faith, who are called by God to help bring about the kingdom. Thanks be to God. Amen.

Blessed are the Debonair

Posted on April 24, 2016Leave a comment

This morning, we celebrate God’s good creation.

We celebrate the gift of this world… this earth that has been placed in our care.

And I’m sure you are wondering as you heard the scriptures for today and look at that sermon title… what in the world do these things have to do with creation care?

Well, as I prepared for our time of worship today, I spent some time in the works of Lutheran eco-theologian Joseph Sittler.

Rev. Sittler was born in 1904 and in his work began connecting Christian theology and environmental matters as early as the 1950s. He firmly believed that care for the earth and our environment is one of the central concerns of our faith.

He also loved to explore the ways various biblical translations impacted our understanding of what they mean. Robert Saler points to his fascination with a French translation of the Beatitudes – in particularly Matthew 5:5.

We know the verse today as “Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.”

However, “Sittler noticed that the French would often translate this as ‘blessed are the debonair.’ “ (Saler)

Immediately, you probably have an image in your mind of what it means to be debonair. I know, for me, it was almost the opposite of meek.

Yet, as Sittler explains:

… “debonair” in French, in the time of the French Bible of John Calvin, meant a person who is not an idolater, one who hasn’t gotten hooked up in anything worldly, one who is so sophisticated as to know wealth for what it is and that it isn’t everything…

This is a person who has a kind of centeredness that doesn’t let the idols of this world capture it. It’s a kind of debonair in which you sit lightly on the offerings and temptations of this world because you have a vision of something better…

I think about this in the context of our passage from Acts.

Peter has operated under a world view his entire life that divided the world into good and bad, clean and unclean, impure and pure. He was hooked on an understanding of the world that separated him and those like him from others.

There were some things, and some people, as a part of this creation that were outside his concern. Just as he traditionally wouldn’t have been allowed to enter the house of a Gentile, he couldn’t eat certain foods.

But then he has this vision… a vision that opened up his world as never before.

As the Message translation describes that vision in modern language:

Something like a huge blanket, lowered by ropes at its four corners, came down out of heaven and settled on the ground in front of me. Milling around on the blanket were farm animals, wild animals, reptiles, birds—you name it, it was there. Fascinated, I took it all in.

^7-10“Then I heard a voice: ‘Go to it, Peter—kill and eat.’ I said, ‘Oh, no, Master. I’ve never so much as tasted food that wasn’t kosher.’ The voice spoke again: ‘If God says it’s okay, it’s okay.’

There are two things happening here.

Missionally, God is opening Peter and the disciples’ hearts to the possibility of ministry among the Gentiles. God is helping them come to a more sophisticated understanding of their mission that is no longer limited by the old delineations. The Holy Spirit sends Peter to a non-Jewish family who is converted on the spot.

But important for our conversation today, God is helping Peter to understand that all of creation was made by God and it is all a gift. Just as there is no distinction between clean and unclean people, there is no distinction between clean and unclean animals or birds. God has made it all and to God it all belongs… yet it is also being given to Peter, to the people, to us, as a gift… as an inheritance.

In his reflections on the beatitudes, Rev. Sittler considers those debonair who will inherit the earth:

It doesn’t say they shall own the earth, or control the earth…It says they shall inherit the earth.

…The difference is: what you own, you probably earn, or make. An inheritance is something you don’t own. You don’t deserve it. It’s a surprise. You live in the world with a gentle spirit, because the whole of creation is a kind of outrageous surprise, a gift.

Blessed are they of a gentle spirit, because they live in the world not as ones who strut around as if they own the place… Rather, their first feeling for the world is one of tender wonder, gratitude, and amazement.

And Peter does have that sense of awe. The Message translation in particular captures the drama, the wonder of it all, by saying that Peter was fascinated and took it all in. That gentle debonair spirit took over. He realized that the systems of division between clean and unclean he had lived with his entire life were stripped away.

Every little bit of this world was made by God and belongs to God and we are merely granted temporary guardianship and use. Like Adam and Eve were given creation in Genesis to care for, to steward, to use for their needs, so this world is gifted to Peter and to us.

Rev. Sittler describes a moment when he saw that debonair spirit in action:

I went with some college kids on a trip, a big Saturday afternoon walk through the gigantic Douglas-fir forest in the lower slopes of the Cascades. I watched these sophisticated kids . . . . When they walked into the woods, they became quiet, silent. They would reach out and pat the big trees as they went by. The further we got into the woods, the quieter they became.

Then the phrase came to me, “They inherit the world, because they don’t own it.”

They don’t think of it fundamentally as potential two-by-fours, though it’s all right to use it that way wisely; if you love a thing, then you’re prepared to use it wisely.”

Why should we, as people of faith lift up creation care? Why would someone like Joseph Sittler claim that environmental concerns are one of the central issues of Christianity?

Precisely because it is one of the richest gifts and inheritances that God has given us.

As we state in the Social Principles of the United Methodist Church:

All creation is the Lord’s, and we are responsible for the ways we use and abuse it. Water, air, soil, minerals, energy resources, plants, animal life, and space are to be valued and conserved because they are God’s creation and not solely because they are useful to human beings… we should meet these stewardship duties through acts of loving care and respect. (Book of Discipline, ¶160)

And if we truly love God, if we truly love one another, if we truly love this gift of creation, then our love will lead us to use it wisely.

The greatest commandment, after all, is to love. And that love should fill every relationship and every engagement with the world.

And that love also leads us to periodically check ourselves and ask if we have taken this gift for granted. That love calls us to speak up when we see others abusing our common resources. That love demands that we teach our children and ourselves how to walk gently and carefully among this precious planet.

Blessed are the Debonair… for they shall inherit the earth.

We have been given this world as a gift, and we are to make sure future generations are able to inherit it as well.

References:

Robert Saler – “Eco-Justice Commentary on the Common Lectionary Easter 5”

Jospeh Sittler, “His God Story,” in The Eloquence of Grace: Joseph Sittler and the Preaching Life, ed. Richard Lischer and James Childs, Cascade, 2013, 23-24

Unrecognizeable

Posted on November 1, 2014Leave a comment

As we sit here this morning and think about feasting with the saints, I’m thinking about eating a honey and butter sandwich with my grandpa, my Deda. I’m Czech, you know, and my Babi and Deda were big parts of my life growing up.

He was a really quiet sort of guy. He didn’t say much unless you had spent an hour or two shelling walnuts with him at the kitchen table. Every so often, you would get a story out of him about peeling potatoes in the Korean War or about a neighbor down the street. He also loved to make up stories and when I was little he had all sorts of silly tales that he would tell us.

In October of 2006, my dad’s dad, my grandpa, my Deda, passed away. It was a long and slow and painful process – with diabetes doing a number on his body and its ability to heal itself. I was living in Nashville at the time, attending seminary, but it was fall break and he was still with us, so I went home to see him.

I got to spend an entire day in the hospital with Deda. It was probably the best day that he had had in a long time. The Hawkeyes were playing that morning and he was aware of the game and together we watched them win. Five or six of us were gathered in the room and he would try to talk, but his throat was sore and ravaged from the breathing tube that had been there. He grunted and moaned, tried to tell us things, but mostly we just held his hand and tried our best to understand. The next day wasn’t nearly so good and the next evening he passed away. Because of my break from school, I was able to be there not only for the funeral, but also stay farther into the week.

Because I was, you know, the seminary student, I did a lot of care-giving during that time. I gave one of the eulogies at the funeral. I sat in with my dad and uncles and aunt as they planned the service. I helped to decorate the funeral home ( complete with stalks of corn, pumpkins and gourds). I sat with my Babi.

It felt so good to be home and surrounded by my family during that time, but I remember the hardest part of it was going back to Nashville. Going back to a place where no one knew my grandfather, or even that he had been that sick. Going back to a place where no one knew that he had died or what a gaping hole was left in my life.

But I hadn’t missed any classes because of how the break fell. I didn’t have to call any professors about making up a test or getting the notes from lecture. Everyone had been gone, so there was no reason to notice I was gone.

And so I didn’t tell anyone. I kept my grief to myself. I just wasn’t sure I wanted to put myself out there and be greeted by all of the condolences and “I’m sorry’s” right then, so I hid it all. I don’t think I really wanted to be left alone – but I was somehow embarrassed by my grief. I felt like I had done an okay job of caring for everyone else and I could probably care for myself too. I guess I thought that I could handle it on my own.

As long as I’m being honest, I’ve always had this attitude that says, “I can do it myself!” Whether it is putting something together or cooking a new recipe, or, as it turns out, grieving – I’ve always wanted to figure out my own way of doing something. Like I know better than how countless people have done it in the past or will continue to do it in the future.

Our whole culture it seems has that do-it-yourself mentality. We are expected to be strong, resourceful, and even if we don’t have it all figured out – with the right tools, or YouTube video, we should be able to do-it-ourselves.

But you see, the problem is, we were not made to do things ourselves.

It is exactly when we are down and out that we are more in tune with what it really means to be part of the body of Christ.

Christ tells us that it is precisely our places of vulnerability that we will find the promise of God being fulfilled.

The world may think that being vulnerable means you are weak and you can’t cut it, but in the strange and wonderful ways of God, our vunerability is the source of our greatest blessings.

Hear again some those very familiar words of the Beatitudes, but through the Message translation of the bible:

You’re blessed when you’re at the end of your rope. With less of you there is more of God and his rule.

You’re blessed when you feel you’ve lost what is most dear to you. Only then can you be embraced by the One most dear to you.

You’re blessed when you’re content with just who you are-no more, no less. That’s the moment you find yourselves proud owners of everything that can’t be bought.

You’re blessed when you care. At the moment of being ‘care-full,’ you find yourselves cared for.

You’re blessed when you can show people how to cooperate instead of compete or fight. That’s when you discover who you really are, and your place in God’s family.

Not only that-count yourselves blessed every time people put you down or throw you out or speak lies about you to discredit me. What it means is that the truth is too close for comfort and they are uncomfortable.

The world gets uncomfortable around us, because they don’t understand the Kingdom that Jesus came to proclaim, the kingdom full of good news for the poor, freedom for captives, and comfort for those that mourn.

We have been blessed, precisely because of our vulnerability. We have been the poor, the down and out, we have grieved, we have struggled for peace. And we are blessed, because every step of the way, Jesus has been by our side.

The world can’t comprehend the love God has for us and the love we have for one another. And a big part of that love we share is the trust and belief that we can be vulnerable with one another. Our love is the most powerful, when we share our lives with one another, when we are honest about our weaknesses and our need for healing and love and grace.

And yet, that is precisely why the world doesn’t recognize Jesus. It is why the world doesn’t know him. Caught up in our bravado, believing we can do it on our own, John writes in his letter that the world can’t see the love God has for us. If the world can’t understand that love, they it can’t understand why the poor and the brokenhearted would be blessed.

And I experienced this. I tried to grieve on my own when my grandfather died. But I realized I couldn’t do it myself when I back our car into a parking barrier after church the first Sunday I returned to Nashville.

I was actually so anxious about getting away from the church where everyone seemed so happy and whose lives seemed to be so together that I wasn’t paying attention and clipped the parking barrier.

If I had been just an ordinary person of the world, I probably would never have gone back into that church. I would have backed my car out, gone straight to the repair shop, and would have continued quietly carrying my burden. I wouldn’t have known, I wouldn’t have recognized the love God has for us. I would have believed all of those happy people inside of that church building were strange and out of touch and in my grief, I didn’t belong.

But, I worked in that church and for half a second remembered that it was exactly because it was full of strange people that I loved it and them. Those peope inside that building were not perfect. They were happy and blessed precisely because they refused to handle their problems on their own.

I carefully shifted the car back into drive and parked it back in the spot. I got out and I walked back inside. I would deal with the car later. I sat down on the couch in my friend’s office and I just cried. And I finally let someone else be there for me. And I was overwhelmed by the love that community demonstrated.

The church – this body of Christ – should be a place where any and all of us can stand up at any time and freely share our lives with one another. It should be a place where each of us can trust that those joys and concerns and struggles will be heard faithfully and held onto sacredly – that they will be gently placed into God’s hands and that together we will weep, together we will laugh, together we will learn to forgive and live a new way.

That is why our lives are unrecognizeable. It is why we seem so strange to the rest of the world.

So many of the saints that we lift up this morning were those strange and unrecognizeable and wonderful people. They gave so much of their lives to this church and to other people.

You know their stories far better than I do.

You know how they loved one another.

You know how they shepherded the church through adversity.

You know how they leaned on one another in difficult times.

You learned from them what it means to be strange and unrecognizeable… what it means to be blessed.

And from them, we have learned how to share those blessings to others.

I’ve heard this saying many times in my life – when you share joy, you double it, when you share a burden, you cut it in half.

That is what community is for, that is what the body of Christ is for – to help you to carry your burdens and your joys.

Being a part of community means being vulnerable with one another, but the strength of the body of Christ is shown when we do whatever we can through God’s power to overcome that weakness.

And we can do so because we know death is not the end. Because we believe that sickness is not a curse. Because we have faith in the power of the resurrection and because we have seen miracles. We have felt the power of prayer. We know what hope truly is.

The saints we celebrate today are part of the people of God and present with us in this very room as we break bread and feast at the heavenly banquet.

And that is why this place and this people are so strange and wonderful.