You Are Mine…

Baptism begins with repentance.

This water is cleansing water.
By diving in,
by letting this water pour over our finger tips,
we are saying that we want to live differently.

A strange man named John was led to call people to repentance.

He set up camp there at the Jordan River

and people were so moved by his call:

Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near,”

that they came to him from all over the place.

They were yearning for a chance to let go of their pasts,

to confess their sins,
and to be made clean.
There were of course other ways of repenting.

Official ways of repenting.

They could go to the temple and offer sacrifices for their sins.

The Day of Atonement was a yearly chance to let go of their transgressions.

They could pray for forgiveness like so many
of the prophets and psalmists and kings had done throughout scriptures.
But they were drawn in by John’s call.
They were moved by this tangible act
of letting themselves
be washed
by the waters
of the Jordan.

As the cold water drifted passed them,
the current took their sins away.

Baptism begins with repentance.

But it certainly doesn’t end there.

John the Baptizer himself knew that this repentance wasn’t enough.
It wasn’t enough to say, “I’m sorry.”
You actually had to live differently.
You had to bear fruits of repentance.
And he was aware we don’t always have what it takes.

John the Baptizer knew that this was only the beginning.
That water wasn’t enough.

He proclaimed that one was coming
Who would baptize with
The Holy Spirit
And with fire.
He proclaimed that one was coming
Who would not only forgive,
But set things right.
Someone was coming who would judge.

And then, out of nowhere
And I really do mean out of nowhere,
Because a couple of decades have passed between
We last saw him…
Jesus shows up.

He is no longer a baby.
No longer a child.
But a man.
And he steps into the river…

John is beside himself –
This isn’t right!
What are you doing!
You have it all backwards!
I’m supposed to be baptized by you…

But Jesus replies back gently:
It’s okay.
Let’s do it this way.
It’s proper.
It’s necessary.

Trembling, John helps to immerse Jesus
And as he comes up
Out of the water
The heavens open.

What that means, I don’t know.
Do the clouds part?
Does a gap in the blue sky appear?
Are their angels singing like at his birth?
Could anyone see it but him?
I don’t know that,
but I do know the heavens opened.

The heavens opened.
The Holy Spirit came down.
Like a dove it came down from the heavens
And landed on him.
t rested on him.
And there were words.
“This is my Son.”
“This is my beloved.”
“With him, I am well pleased.”

Jesus went into that water
Not because he needed to repent.
Not because he was unclean.
But for us.
He went into that water
So that we might go into the water.
So that we might let go of our sins
So that we might be made sons and daughters of God
So that the Spirit might flow into our lives.
Jesus went in that water
To fulfill our righteousness.

And then he leaves.
Jesus gets up from the water.
The Spirit takes him into the wilderness.
And we are left standing at the Jordan.

Only not really.
Because we know the rest of the story.
We know that what began
As water for repentance
Became water and spirit
Became newness of life
Became a beginning that was not only a fresh start
But the power to be different

What began as water for repentance
Became a mark on our souls that can never go away.
“You are mine,” God says.
“I love you,” God says.
“Don’t forget it,” God says.

Don’t forget it when you look out on this world:
This broken, bleeding, bruised world.
Carry my mark with you.
Love others, serve them, bind up their wounds.

Don’t forget it when you listen to the hatred in this world:
Remember I have called you to bring peace.
I have called you to trust in grace and mercy.
I have called you to renounce evil.
Carry my mark with you.
Don’t be afraid.

“You are mine,” God says.
“Don’t forget it.”

But how often do we forget.

How often do we forget that Jesus is our Lord and Savior
And try trusting in something else… like money or security.

How often do we fail to be Christ’s disciple
And we disobey his very word.

How often do we embrace evil and take pleasure in violence
Rather than stand against them.

How often do we use and abuse God’s name
To get what we want…
Not what God wants.

Many of us have taken the vows of baptism.
We have said them as adults.
Or we have confirmed the vows our parents took.
Some of us are parents
Who hold these vows for our children
Until they are ready to accept them themselves.

These vows are not just words we say
They are promises.
Promises that we have left behind us evil and sin and injustice
Promises that we will stand with our Lord.
Promises that we trust in his grace.

Martin Luther once said:
Everytime you wash your hands
Everytime you wash your face
You should remember your baptism
You should remember that you are God’s child
You should remember that you have made promises.

We need to remember.
We need to remember so that
When violence breaks out we can shout, “no.”
When pain is felt, we can say, “no.”
When darkness rears its ugly head, we can say, “no.”

We need to remember.
So that
we can say “YES” to hope.
“YES” to life.
“YES” to the good news that God has not abandoned us.
We need to remember
So that we are not afraid to say, YES and NO.

A colleague wrote these words yesterday
In the wake of the shootings in Tuscson…
In the wake of remembering Jesus baptism
In the wake of remembering her baptism:

“How do I preach on baptism and not address that we have witnessed the power of evil in this world practically firsthand today – and yet vow to renounce it.

“How do I preach on baptism and not address that obeying His Word and showing his love are action verbs, especially in the light of an event that is dangerously close to stunning us into silence and inaction?

“How do I preach the Good News in the shadow that has been cast by the news of a 9 year old girl’s senseless death?

“Our nation’s rhetoric has once again driven someone who is unstable to do the unthinkable and although we may not be in Arizona, there is still blood on our hands and ONLY the waters of baptism can wash them off. (kathrynzj)“

These vows are our calling.
They are our responsibility.
These waters wash us clean.
And the spirit gives us strength.

It has been said that we should
Face the world
With a newspaper in one hand

And a bible in the other
(Karl Barth)
We need to be able to face the world

And face it in all its reality
Good news and bad
Tragedy and pain, joy and celebration
And we need to be able to say, YES and NO

Yes to the things that bring life.

No to the things that bring death.

But we cannot do it

Without our baptisms.

We cannot do it
Unless the Spirit has our back.

“Do not be afraid,” God says.
“I love you.”
“You are mine.”

Love… gotta have it!

The Sunday that I traveled up to Cherokee, my nine-year-old cousin Taylor was baptized.

One afternoon, she came home very upset from school.

You see, one of her best friends at school had asked her that day if she had been baptized.

Taylor wasn’t sure, and her little friend responded: If you aren’t baptized, you can’t be a child of God.

When I first heard the story, I remember feeling a flash of horror come over me. Did she really say that? What a terrible and awful thing to say to someone!

And then I started to wonder why exactly that statement was so off-putting to me: If you aren’t baptized, you can’t be a child of God.

Looking deeper, I realized that my understanding of baptism… the Methodist church’s understanding of baptism is very different from the view expressed by that little girl.

You see, in our United Methodist tradition, baptism isn’t a pre-requisite for receiving the love of God… it is a sign, it is a reminder, that we are already loved.

Baptism is acknowledgment of the fact that God’s grace is already active in our lives… it goes before us – before we even know it is there.

Pop quiz time: Who remembers what kind of grace that is? The grace that goes before us?

Prevenient grace – gold star!

As much as that statement about baptism made me quake a little bit – there is also a measure of truth to the statement. In baptism, we do put on Christ, we are clothed in his righteousness, we are adopted in the family so to speak. In our baptism, but also in our confirmation of that faith when we stand before the church and profess what we believe, we are say to God – I accept that you have called me and claimed me. I will live as a child of God with your help.

But what is important to remember is that it all starts with God. And God acts in our lives because we are loved.

Often times, it is hard to see God acting in the world. Sometimes the world is cloudy and dim and life seems bleak. In fact, in our Advent scriptures this morning, we hear words of promise spoken to people who were scared and broken. In the midst of troubled days, God spoke through the prophet Isaiah and offered a sign – a young woman is with child and will bear a son… and his name will be Immanuel.

God with us. Emmanuel.

God acted when He spoke His Word and all creation came into being. God with us, Emmanuel.

God acted when He led Abraham to the promised land. God with us, Emmanuel.

God acted when He saved a baby from the Nile river and led His people out of Egypt. God with us, Emmanuel.

God acted when He anointed a young boy named David as King over the people. God with us, Emmanuel.

God acted when He spoke through the prophets and gave them warnings and signs and promises. God with us, Emmanuel.

And then God acted in the life of a peasant girl from Nazareth. God with us, Emmanuel.
Paul saw these mighty acts of God as he looked back upon the faith he received and he proclaimed that it is through Christ – through the prophecies, through his ancestry, through his birth and life and resurrection – that God has come to be with us. Emmanuel.

He knew that it is only through Christ Jesus that hope, peace, joy and love are truly possible. In Christ we receive this generous gift of life, Paul writes, and we have the urgent task of passing it on to others who will receive it.

We have the obligation… the responsibility… right now… to take this hope, peace, joy and love that is taking root in our hearts… God with us… and to share it with everyone we meet.

And what is it that we proclaim?

God is with us… Emmanuel. And just as he did in the past, God goes before us making a new way.

I think a prime example of that during this Advent season is the vision given to Joseph.

Can you imagine what this man must have been feeling? He is engaged to Mary, looking forward to their marriage, and he comes to find out that she is pregnant.

God did it, she tells him.

Yeah…. Right… Of course he did… Our God goes around impregnating people.

But he loved this young woman.

According to the law, her punishment would have been stoning. But he didn’t even consider it. He didn’t want to make a scene, he didn’t want to humiliate her… and he certainly didn’t want to pretend that another man’s child was his.

He made up his mind to break off the engagement quietly. She wasn’t showing yet – people wouldn’t know that she had cheated on him.

 

And just when he had finally worked up the courage to do it and layed down to get some rest, an angel appeared to him in his dream.
St. Joseph with Christ Child. Michael D. O’Brien

 

Do not be afraid, the angel said.

Her child was conceived by God, the angel assured him.

God has done this to save his people… remember the prophets? Remember Isaiah? This is the one that you have been waiting for. This is Emmanuel. This is God, come to be with you.

Do not be afraid to take Mary as your wife.

God acted once again. God intervened and spoke words of comfort and peace.

And Joseph woke up, and took Mary as his wife.

I can actually imagine him running out the door in the middle of the night and heading over to her father’s house. I can see him pounding on the door, begging to see her. I can see them rushing over to the nearest rabbi’s house and waking up the whole household in the process…. Can you marry us tonight?

Because you see, when we realize that God is with us. When we realize that Emmanuel has come to dwell in our lives… we are filled with urgency. Urgency to share that good news with others. Urgency to tell the story. Urgency to obey God’s commands. Urgency to spread hope and peace and joy and love to everyone we meet.

When my cousin Taylor came home from school, believing that she wasn’t a child of God, my uncle sprang into action. He called up the pastor and asked what could be done. And there is no better way to remind us of the way that God loves us – the way that God has already acted in our lives – than to touch these cool waters of baptism.

And so, with our whole family there, that weekend, we surrounded Taylor with our love, reminded her of God’s love for her, and she knew that she was a child of God. She knew that God was with her… Emmanuel.

The only question left for us is who needs to hear those words today? Who needs to know that they too are loved? Where is God already moving and waiting for you to act?

Advent Blog Tour: Day 14

“Las Posadas” by Maria Laughlin

As Christmas approaches, we are reminded that a very pregnant young woman and her patient fiancé were once left out in the cold. They made their way to the town of Bethlehem hoping and praying that someone would have a place for them to stay… but there was no room.

As Luke tells us:

Joseph went to be enrolled together with Mary, who was promised to him in marriage and who was pregnant. While they were there, the time came for Mary to have her baby. She gave birth to her firstborn son, wrapped him snugly, and laid him in a manger, because there was no place for them in the guestroom.

There was no place for them in the guestroom.

That translation from the Common English Bible got me thinking about what it means to be included.

Notice… it doesn’t say that they were full. It doesn’t say that there wasn’t room. It says that there was no place for them.

The first weekend of December, I made my way to Cherokee, Iowa and our yearly Christmas gathering. My mom is one of seven children and almost the whole family was there. Along with significant others and kids and grandkids. Four generations gathered under one roof.

On Sunday afternoon, thirty-seven of us all crowded into the living room around the Christmas tree to exchange gifts. And with each warm little body pressed into that space there really isn’t very much room.

But no matter how little room there is, no matter how many people there are, there is always a place for each one. There is a place on someone’s lap, or squeezed together on a couch, or at the foot of someone else. There is always a place for you. And it just wouldn’t be the same without you.

It warms my heart to see all of those people in that room. Even those who are not able to be there have a place… they are in our hearts. They are present in our spirits. There is always a place.

Luke reminds us that the Lord of Lords crept into this world on a quiet evening and that there was no place for him. There was no place for his unmarried mother. There was no place for the man who would be his earthly father. There was no place.

I hear in that statement that there was no welcome for them.

Who wants to take in a pregnant girl in the middle of the night?

Who wants to deal with these strangers who didn’t have enough sense to plan ahead?

Who wants to give up their spot?

In some Mexican and Latin American communities, the tradition of Las Posadas reminds folks of the absence of hospitality Mary and Joseph recieved.  In the days before Christmas, processions go from house to house and request lodging.  The host for each evening turns the people away… until the final night, Christmas Eve, when Mary and Joseph are finally allowed to enter and the people gather around the nativity to pray.

I wonder, however, how many times we enact Las Posadas in our communities and our churches without realizing it?

How many times have we turned our backs to someone in need who came to our doorstep?

How many times have we been angry at folks who came late to an event?

How many times have we looked in judgment at an unwed mother?

How many times have we moved away from the homeless man who sat next to us in the pew?

How many times have we told people through our words or our actions: There is no place for you here.

Our God crept into this world to make sure that we all had a place. He came as a child to make us children of God. He came and was rejected so that we might never be rejected again. He died so that we might live.

Before he left, Christ reminded his disciples and reminded us:

Don’t be troubled. Trust in God. Trust also in me. My Father’s house has room to spare. If that weren’t the case, would I have told you that I’m going to prepare a place for you? When I go to prepare a place for you, I will return and take you to be with me so that where I am you will be too.

There is a place for you. That is what Christ tells us. That is what Christ shows us. That is what Christ gives us.

May our churches and our homes and our hearts be transformed by Christ so that might always be true.

Continue this journey with us towards Christmas at www.AdventBlogTour.Com
Sponsored by the Common English Bible

Joy… for the tough times

This morning in worship we focused on John the Baptist’s question to Jesus:

How do I know that you are the one? Are you him?

photo by: Mattox

Jesus listed off all the signs of the kingdom – the things he was doing that demonstrated the Kingdom of God had come near.

Instead of preaching, I asked the congregation to help me proclaim the good news. We had a small crowd because of weather, and it was a much more intimate setting to be sharing anyways.

Together we lifted up all of the places we have seen joy in this world in the past year, all of the ways we have witnessed God working. We talked about flood recovery and coming back from illness. We talked about new babies and celebrations of life. We talked about simple things that bring a smile to our faces. It was a joyous morning of testimony!!!

Taking out the Trash…#reverb10

I have not really followed the prompts for Reverb before – but from what I have caught wind of, they are daily prompts that help us to “reflect on this year and manifest what’s next.”

I could seriously use some regularly scheduled reflection in my life, so even though I am late to the party, I’m joining in.

Today’s prompt:

What are 11 things your life doesn’t need in 2011? How will you go about eliminating them? How will getting rid of these 11 things change your life?

It’s a good question.  It actually takes me back to the lectionary gospel passage from last Sunday and the announcement of John the Baptist.

“I’m baptizing you here in the river, turning your old life in for a kingdom life. The real action comes next: The main character in this drama—compared to him I’m a mere stagehand—will ignite the kingdom life within you, a fire within you, the Holy Spirit within you, changing you from the inside out. He’s going to clean house—make a clean sweep of your lives. He’ll place everything true in its proper place before God; everything false he’ll put out with the trash to be burned.” (The Message)
Everything false, Christ will put out with the trash.  He’s making a clean sweep. Watch out clutter and mistakes and useless things.  Your time is up.

What is it in my life that needs to be cleaned out?  What can I metaphorically put out with the trash or send to the curb with the recycling?

1) Whining:  I am a whiner.  Not to most people… mostly just to my husband.  I whine about things when they aren’t going my way.  I’m going to stop.  I’m going to start appreciating what I have and not complain so much when things are tough. Lots of prayers for the fruits of the spirit to sprout in my life… a little patience, gentleness, kindness, joy, and self-control would help. Get to work Holy Spirit!

2) Grocery Shopping Hungry: I make poor food choices when I go grocery shopping when I am hungry.  I am going to work on creating a list of meals for the week and buying the appropriate food items. No more wasting money on the celery that we won’t really eat and will just go bad in the fridge.

3) The Weekly Planner on my fridge:  We don’t use it.  It takes up the whole freaking fridge. Why have something that isn’t helping?  That’s just mocking me for not doing the work to plan.

4) Baby pressure:  I just want the baby pressure to go away.  I want the questions about when and if and how soon to stop. I want my own internal biological clock to quit ticking for a bit.  I’m not sure how to get rid of it… but my life could be a bit more focused if it wasn’t around. Maybe if I simply learn to delight in other’s children and pregnancies and stop worrying so much about my own.

5) Meetings for the sake of meetings:  As the pastor, I’m going to refuse to attend a meeting that has no purpose.  I’m going to refuse to host a meeting that has no purpose.  If we don’t have things to talk about, we aren’t going to meet.  But I’m also going to work on empowering my leadership to take control of these meetings and to bring things to share…

6) Lying: I think my number one biggest temptation for sin is fibbing.  Telling a little half-truth so that I don’t hurt someone or so that I can get away with something.  We all have our weaknesses and this is mine.  My life doesn’t need it anymore.  It makes everything so much harder in the long run and it hurts people.  And it feels crappy.  No more lying in 2011… okay?

7) Days spent watching food network or any other channel for that matter: On my days off, I tend to plop down and watch silly television.  I’m not really going to cook most of that food.  There is awesome music in the world to listen to.  I could use the time to knit/crochet, write, read (which I definitely need to do more of), instead of filling my head with food and silly stories.

8) Weeks spent without talking with family:  My immediate family has not made the time to spend together this past year.  We all have our excuses and it’s not that we are having any problems or anything else.  We are just busy folks.  And I miss them.  So I’m going to make it a point to make sure I talk with each of them once a week.

9) Hesitation: I am a waffler.  I hesitate sometimes because I take the time to think about all of the angles and possibilities and how everyone will feel about a decision.  But most of the time, I hesitate because I doubt myself.  I’m going to stop hesitating and just trust myself more next year.

10) Free food: I love the fact that my parishioners love me.  I love all of the wonderful gifts they give me.  But there are many things I take home that I honestly will not eat.  Or shouldn’t eat.  And there is so much food brought to the church that goes straight to my hips.  So I am going to feel free to turn down food next year.  I’m going to make healthier decisions.  If we aren’t going to eat it, I’m going to make sure someone else gets it.  I’ll use it as an opportunity to visit a shut-in and share the bounty.  But just because it’s offered, doesn’t mean it has to come to my house.

11) Days without prayer and stillness:I let too many days start without stopping to rest in God.  In 2011 – my days will all begin in prayer and stillness.

maternal longing…

I cannot escape pregnancy these days.
As blogger Traci Bianchi reminds us: The Christmas story is dripping with estrogen.
And not only that… but the Advent story as well.  As we wait for the coming of Christ once again, we are pregnant with hope and anticipation… we hear rumors of wars and feel the earth shaking and everything in turmoil and yet we are reminded in Mark 13:8 that all of these troubles are but the birth pangs of the new creation.
Pregnant, waiting, in pain, fleshy, joyful, anxious.
In our Wednesday evening Advent services we have been using a number of materials from The Work of the People.  The first two video reflections have both reminded us of just how incarnate God became.  As we heard the announcement to Mary of the child in her womb… we watched a woman in delivery, having contractions.  We watched her heavy breathing and her labored movements.  We saw the pained look on her face as the angel’s words came through… “Do not be afraid, Mary.”  “I am your servant” was her response .
I have seen sonogram images of friends who are newly expecting.  I received with immense joy the news that I would get to be an aunt again next summer.  As the holiday season has progressed I have held babies and changed diapers and comforted those who were crying.
And inside of me is stirred up a deep, deep longing.  The longing to be a mother, myself.
Sometimes Advent and Christmas come and go and we don’t feel any different, but I have found this year that my experience of the season has been deep and holy this year.  I have found that this longing to be a mother parallels my waiting for the coming Christ.
Maybe it brings the season into a sharper view, because I feel it so intensely.  So personally.  We’ve been waiting forever for the Messiah to come again and sometimes we let it slip into the background.  We get busy with our day to day lives and figure it will come when it comes.
But when another longing takes hold… we are reminded of what it feels like to truly wait.  To desire something so much. We are reminded that there are some things that we seek so much that it does consume our thoughts… it takes over those day to day activities.  It changes how we see the world.

I see babies everywhere these days.  I cannot help it.  My entire perspective has shifted.  I notice the glow on an expecting mothers face.  I watched those images of the woman in labor and heard the words of the angel speaking to Mary and I began to tear up.

But in the midst of my very personal, very selfish, biological clock going haywire… I also have looked around with eyes that see the pain in this world.  The hurt that so many experience.  And my inward longing has turned outward as I want so much for this whole creation to be set right, to be restored, to be made new.
On Twitter, the hashtag #waiting2010 has helped me to share those longings.  I join others in prayer as we waiting for the day when violence will end and disease will be no more.  We wait for the day when understanding will be the norm and when the Prince of Peace will rule.

My husband is not yet ready for kids.  He may never be. And if I am honest with myself, perhaps I’m not yet ready for the dramatic ways my life will be different when/if we bring someone into this world.  The simple fact is: for us, right now, the answer to the children question is, “no.”  That answer brings me great sadness.

And yet, in this season of longing and emptiness, in this season of waiting… I am turning towards those things that I can say yes to.  I can say yes to hope.  I can say yes to peace.  I can say yes to joy.  I can say yes to love.  I can reach out to others with my life and my actions and give all I have to them.

Maybe God has something in store for us.  Maybe being childless will help me minister in different ways.  Maybe my hopes and longings will be fulfilled.  All I know is that I wait. And I trust that God will be with me.  I am not afraid.

Setting the Table: The Cup

On a brutally hot afternoon, a lone woman makes the long trek from her village to the nearby well. She brings with her an empty jug. All of the other women had come out to draw up the water early in the morning – before the sunlight would beat down upon the earth. All of the other women had come out together to gossip and laugh, to share stories and to work. But not her. No, this lone women was more likely to be the subject of their gossip and their stories. She was more likely to be laughed at. So instead, she preferred the company of the radiant sun, the dust in the air, she preferred to risk facing whatever dangers might await her alone than to face her peers.

On a brutally hot afternoon, a lone woman walks to a well with an empty jug… and there she meets the source of life and life abundant.

So many times have we heard the story of this Samaritan woman and her chance meeting at the well with Jesus. So many times have we talked about how Christ broke through so many barriers – religious, gender, social barriers – to speak to her, to show this woman love. So many times have we marveled at the transformation in her life as she ran back to the village – to those same women she avoided every day – to share the good news.

So many times we tell this story and we walk away feeling warm and fuzzy… another life saved…

But we forget that one day on a brutally hot afternoon, a lone woman made a long trek from her village to the nearby well… and her jug was empty.

We forget that before the good news there was pain. There was heartache. There was desperation. We forget that a woman was yearning for a God who seemed absent. We forget that a community shut another person out and refused to invite her in. We forget the sting of judgment. We forget the bitterness of disappointment in herself and in her husbands.

Before the good news of living water… there was thirst.

When we set the table this morning with a glass, it is because we, too, are thirsty. We, too, are waiting for God’s spirit of love and compassion and healing to fill our lives.

When we bring this empty glass to the table, it is because we are thirsty.

Or if we are not thirsty today, we have been in the past.

We have experienced pain and disappointment and mistrust in the past. We have experienced the drought of faith when our lives were too busy for God. We have experienced dry and brittle seasons of prayer when God seemed absent. We have been alone and lost in the wilderness when others that we thought we trusted turned their backs on us. Maybe the well itself was blocked because your family or work… maybe you abandoned going to the well of God’s love because you no longer felt like you belonged.

And as much as we wish that didn’t happen in the church – it has. No matter how faithful we try to be, we are human and we make mistakes, and this body of Christ has suffered in the past.

But just as last week, we remembered that God can set a table of plenty even in the wilderness – we remember today, that Christ offers us living water… even in the midst of a brutal and painful drought.

I want you to take those cards that you have been given again today.

As we prepare to come to the table… we prepare to bring ourselves… I want us to honestly come before God with empty jars and pitchers and glasses.

These cups are empty because we have experienced hurt and pain in the past. Prayerfully think of a time when this church body did not live up to it’s calling as the people of God. When have you been disappointed by this community? When have you been hurt and alone because of a divorce or the death of a loved one? Write down on a card a moment of emptiness – a moment when you were thirsting for God’s love and righteousness to fill your life and to make you whole.

We are preparing ourselves to come to the table… and that means we need to bring the full history of our church before God. Now these cards can be turned in anonamously – you don’t have to put your name on them or the full details of the situation. But make note at the very least of a time when you felt empty and dried up… I was hurt. I was disappointed. And as we add to the timeline of our church we created in 2008, I want to ask you to include the year or the decade that this time of emptiness came.

Take a few minutes to prayerfully write these things down.

Hang on to each one of these. Hold them in your hands.

In the book of common prayer, we hear that those who go through desolate valleys will find it a place of wells.

For those of you who wrote about a past time of drought and emptiness in your life – How many of you eventually found a deep well of God’s compassion and love?

How many of you made it through that dry time?

How many of you experienced the outpouring of grace and with joy can now draw water from the wells of salvation… show of hands.

As the woman at the well was reminded… sometimes in our darkest moments, Christ speaks to us. And he offers living water like a spring that will gush up to eternal life. There is plenty. There is hope. There is comfort. There is salvation.

For those of you who raised your hands… part of that healing was finding community once again. Like the woman at the well, you were able to return or fully participate again in the life of Christ through this church… and we are so glad that you have =)

And for those of you who are still carrying around empty jugs and glasses… hear these words from the prophet Isaiah – Come, everyone who thirsts. Come to the waters. You that have no money; come…. Come, buy wine and milk without money and without price. (Isaiah 55:1)
Come and wait for God with us. Bring your true selves. Bring your struggles and disappointments… because in those places too, God speaks. Bring your empty glasses and wait with us at the table. God promises to hear us. God promises to speak to us.
“For as the rain and the snow come down from heaven, and do not return there until they have watered the earth, making it bring forth and sprout… so shall my word be that goes out from my mouth; it shall not return to me empty. “

God has a word for us. It is a word of restoration and healing. It is a word of comfort and peace. And that word is waiting for us to come. To come and to listen. To open our hears and our hearts to receive it. Place your empty cup on the table…. Come.

The Prodigal Steward

This morning’s parable from the gospel of Luke is one of the toughest pieces of scripture in the whole Bible. Preachers all over the country groan when this passage comes up in our three year cycle of readings. It is hard to figure out just what on earth Jesus is talking about.

We have the story about a middle man, a manager, who gets called in by his boss because he hasn’t been doing his job very well. In the words of the scripture, the manager had been “squandering his master’s property”. Keep that word squandering in the back of your mind… He calls for an audit – the master wants to see the books for himself and then the squandering and dishonest manager will be out on the street without a job.
Now, in Jesus’ time there were basically two types of people – those who had money and property and those who did not. While we might joke, that the same is true for today – there was no concept of a middle class. Either you were a top dog, or you owned nothing.
We don’t know what kind of business this master ran – only that he had enough money and property that he didn’t do any of the hands-on management of his own affairs. No, all of that was left to the steward, the manager. The manager was responsible for contacting all of the people who farmed the land and getting the master’s share of their crops. He was responsible for any investments or lines of credit the master held for others.
But you see, this was a system without financial regulations. And so, the manager paid himself by charging the debtors a little bit extra. The master didn’t mind because he still got his fair share. The debtors were the ones who felt the burden of the extra taxes – the extra interest that was required… and with such high and exorbitant rates, many were stuck with obligations that they just could never dream of fulfilling.
In this system, the only way that a manager kept from being a “have not” was to store up for himself riches on earth. To take a bigger and bigger chunk of the pie. Our manager from this morning was such a man… and according to the parable, maybe this time he had taken just a little bit too much.
Photo by Max Romersa
A complaint has been leveled against the manager that he was squandering his master’s possessions. He was wasting them. He had gotten all big in the head in his position as manager and had gone out and was flashing around his money and bought a new big screen television and a fancy new car and was rubbing what he had taken into everyone’s faces.
The manager had been squandering in the same way that the prodigal son had been squandering. Wasteful. Useless. Spending. And the master caught wind of what had happened and brought in the manager. Let me see your records, the master says. Let me see what you have to show for yourself.

While the prodigal son had his moment of epiphany when he wakes up sleeping among the pigs in some far off land, our manager has his moment of epiphany as he heads back to his office to pick up the accounting ledger.

My life is ruined, he thinks. Without this job I have nothing. I’m too weak to do physical labor, I’m too proud to beg. Without the ability to find work, in that economy – the manager was as good as dead. All of that laying up of riches on earth couldn’t help him now… he had squandered it all. And in the process of doing so, he had made enemies too numerous to count.

So like the prodigal son, he gets an idea… I’m going to throw myself at the mercy of those I wronged.

The prodigal returned home, not as a son, but as a servant… and the manager returns to the debtors – not as someone who is there to collect what is owed, but as someone who is going to provide relief.

He finds the debtors one by one… What is it that you owe? 100 jugs of oil? Make it half. Pay back half and the debt is gone. What do you owe? 100 bushels of wheat? Make it 80 and your bill is paid.

He bows down, falls at their feet, and waits to see what will happen.

What we often miss here is the fact that the chunk of change the manager is forgiving is NOT the piece owed to the rich man. The portion of the debt he is forgiving is the interest he himself was charging.

He had a choice. He could have collected all that he could and kept a little nest egg back for himself – something to retire on – or he could side with the poor tenant farmers, and pray that they might in turn show mercy in return.

The story of what the manager did makes its way back to the rich man… and he praises his employee for his shrewd behavior.

But now, here comes the tough part.

Jesus finishes up the story and turns to the disciples and says in verses 8 and 9: The children of this age are more shrewd in dealing with their own generation than are the children of light… So you, too, Make friends for yourselves by means of dishonest wealth so that when it is gone, they make welcome you into the eternal homes.

What? Jesus – did you just tell us to be like the people of the world and not like children of the light? Did you just tell us to go out and use dishonest wealth to make friends?

In fact, Jesus did.

And here is why I think he does this.

First, Jesus doesn’t try to pretend that we are angels. He knows that we are sinners. He knows we are of this world. He knows that we are already dishonest and squandering managers. As much as we might try to pretend we are the debtors, we are a part of the wealthiest country in the entire world. No matter how much debt we have or how little we make, we are richer than 80% of the world’s population. Don’t get me wrong – poverty is real in the United States, and the safety net for the middle class is failing all over the place in this tough economy – but we are still richer than we can possibly imagine.

We buy products made in sweatshops. We waste water and food and resources. We store up for ourselves without thinking about who might get hurt in the process. We might have a relationship with Jesus – but we have little to no relationship with the people that Jesus loves.

William Herzog and Alyce McKenzie write that “it is not shrewd for someone with wealth and power to be indifferent to those who are poor or on society’s margins… in reality, such a state of living precipitates a crisis in one’s condition in light of the kingdom to come. It leads to figurative and literal poverty and death.”

When we act like that dishonest manager and squander away treasurers for ourselves on earth… when we use and abuse our fair share of the gifts God has given us… we are setting ourselves up for failure. Remember, Jesus says the first shall be last.

So maybe, this morning, we are the ones who find ourselves called in before the master. We are the ones whose books are being called into question. Jesus confronts us with a hard truth – what are you doing with what I have entrusted to you? Are you squandering it? Are you wasting it? Are you serving me or are you serving yourself?

And faced with that question, we have a choice. Are we going to keep watching our own back, or are we going to be shrewd? Are we going to use what we have been in creative and active ways? Are we going to finally realize that our salvation depends not on the money we have in the bank but the relationships we make?

John Wesley started his ministry with the poor. He reached out to coal miners and farmers and alcoholics and prisoners and debtors. And when he offered them the good news of Jesus Christ, their lives were transformed. But as these folks started helping one another out and taking care of each other – they discovered they had an interesting problem. They started to have money.
And so Wesley tried to figure out how best to advise them and he came up with this short, pithy phrase: Earn all you can, Save all you can, Give all you can.
You see, money isn’t the problem. It is what we do with it.
We, Americans are really good at the first part of that phrase. We earn all we can – we work long and hard and bring home the paychecks when we can. But we have no idea what the other two things mean. We earn all we can and spend all we can.
But those of us who are saver’s aren’t any better. If we earn all we can and save all we can, we are still squanderers. We are watching our own backs. We are wasting the gifts that God has given us by burying them in the ground and sitting on them.
No, to be shrewd, to be faithful, we are called to earn all we can, save all we can, and give all we can. Sacrifice for your brother and sister. Work for the justice of the poor. Help out your neighbor. Never refuse to give to a beggar. Speak out on behalf of the poor. Forgive the debts of others.
In the kingdom of God – our place at the table is not guaranteed by our pocketbooks. Our place is freely given by Jesus Christ to those who choose to follow him there. To those who choose to lay aside the values of this world and to love him instead. To those who look around and see that salvation is not about me – but about the kingdom of heaven, the community of believers, the family of God that is all around us right now.
We are called to be shrewd, decisive, faithful servants. We are called to stop squandering, let go of our obsession with having more – and finally realize that to have more, means to give more. To love more. To serve more.
Go out there and take your dishonest wealth and love people with it. Be the best shrewd manager you can be. Let go of your hold on your wealth. And don’t be surprised when you are blessed beyond measure in return.
Amen and Amen.