Matthew – Salvaged Faith

Help!

Posted on June 11, 2023Leave a comment

Text: Psalm 40:11-17; Matthew 26:36-39;

Good morning friends!

We find ourselves in the season of Pentecost.

The season of the Holy Spirit.

Those first disciples of Jesus were transformed into apostles…

leaders of a community of people that tapped into the power of God for good in the world.

You know, as much as we think about that phrase from the gospel of John…

that the world will know you are my disciples… they will know you are Christians… by how you love one another (John 13:35)…

I think this early Christian community was known by its prayer life.

Just after the ascension of Jesus, there were about 120 folks that were part of the Jesus movement who all gathered together.

Luke tells us that “all were united in their devotion to prayer.” (Acts 1:14)

And when Pentecost came ten days later… where were they?

Gathered together in prayer!

On that day, as their community grew by leaps and bounds, we are told that these thousands of new believers “devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching, to the community, to their shared meals, and to their prayers.” (2:42)

And everyone around them was amazed by what they saw.

Prayer is powerful.

Prayer is power.

It is one of the key ways that we stay connected with God.

It is how we allow the Holy Spirit into our lives: our minds, hearts, and souls.

And as I thought about what I wanted to say to you in these last few weeks…

As I thought about what might be the most important thing I could leave you with…

I kept thinking about how important it is that we are a people of prayer.

It is part of our vision after all – isn’t it?

In Christ, we live a live of love, service, and prayer.

And I know you to be a praying people.

We knit and perl and crochet together prayers for others.

We add our neighbors and friends and family to our prayer list.

But I’ve noticed something else about this church…

We are great about praying for others…

but we sometimes struggle with lifting up prayers for ourselves.

Maybe it is because we don’t want to admit that we don’t have it all together…

Or because we don’t want to be seen as bragging about the good in our lives…

Or maybe we aren’t sure if it is something we need or deserve.

The writer Anne Lamott describes prayer as:

“…taking a chance that against all odds and past history, we are loved and chosen, and do not have to get it together before we show up. The opposite may be true: We may not be able to get it together until after we show up in such miserable shape.”

Did you hear that?

We might not be able to get it together… until AFTER we show up in such miserable shape.

You don’t have to have all the right words, or have it all figured out.

You just need to start.

Over these next three weeks, we are going to talk about what Anne Lamott describes as the essential prayers for our lives:

Help.

Thanks.

Wow.

When I think about those three prayers, but especially the first one, “Help!” I realize that God already knows what we need.

God already knows what is happening in our lives.

Really the question is… are we aware?

Can we be honest with ourselves?

Are we willing to admit that we are not in control?

Perhaps this kind of prayer is easy in moments of true desperation.

In 1815, the playwright Hannah More, described how, “under circumstances of distress, indeed, prayer is adopted with comparatively little reluctance; the mind, which knows not where to fly, flies to God. In agony, nature is no Atheist.”[i]

Later in World War I, people would talk about how there were no atheists in the trenches and foxholes.

In those moments when we truly have run out of options, and nothing is left, we cry out, “Help!”

In our scriptures for this morning, we hear two variations on this prayer.

The Psalmist finds themselves surrounded by evil and sin.

Troubles are piling up, counting more than the hairs on their head.

They cannot see a way out.

Their heart… their hope… fails them.

“O Lord, make haste to help me!”

As The Voice translation concludes this psalm:

“I am empty and need so much, but I know the Lord is thinking of me. You are my help; only You can save me, my True God. Please hurry.”

In the Gospel reading, Jesus himself is described as grieved and agitated.

He knows that betrayal and death are just around the corner and it is more than his soul can bear.

And so first, he cries out to his friends for help… “remain here, and stay awake with me.”

But then he cries out to God:

“My Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from me…”

Save me… rescue me… from what I am about to go through.

There are those moments of true and utter desperation that show up in our lives.

Life and death moments…

Rock bottom moments…

When there is literally nothing else that we can do besides ask for help and prayer from those around us.

But I’m far more aware of those more everyday situations where we might need help and prayer, but we hesitate to speak up.

We hate the feeling of vulnerability and think that we should be stronger than we are.

I can do this on my own, we say.

We don’t want to bother others with what we are going through.

Or we worry about what they might think of us if they knew that we were having a hard time.

Most of you don’t know my spouse, Brandon, because he’s not a “churchy” guy.

Deeper than that, he has some experiences that have put him off from religion and we’ve established some good boundaries to help respect one another’s beliefs and needs.

I so appreciate all of you in this church for also doing so and allowing him to be who he is.

Just over two years ago, we found ourselves going through a rough patch.

I have preached on mental health, talked about suicide and depression, walked with many of you through those moments… but suddenly, there it was on my own doorstep.

Brandon was experiencing feelings of hopelessness and depression and anxiety… and we were able to reach out and get him connected with the resources and therapies that he needed.

But there were some incredibly difficult moments along the way, including a 9-1-1 call in the middle of the night when he had a poor reaction to a change in one of his medications.

And as much as Brandon needed help in those moments, so did I.

I knew I couldn’t fix it… but that doesn’t mean I didn’t feel shame or guilt for not being able to do so.

I needed help and strength to walk that journey with him.

And I’m so grateful for a group of friends and colleagues who answered midnight texts and kept checking in on us and allowing me to vent when I needed to do so.

I’m so grateful for members of this staff and SPRC committee that created a safe space for me to share and talk about what was going on and who kept Brandon and I in your prayers.

But as I was thinking about this sermon, I also keep asking myself why I didn’t share all of this with all of you while it was happening.

Part of the reason is that Brandon himself was not ready to talk about it in a bigger way… and with worship being online, I didn’t want to share more of his story in such a public space…

It is one of the reasons why we aren’t sharing more intimate details and names of prayer requests in worship… because we are now livestreaming worship every week, we hold those more personal details for our internal prayer lists.

But I also think my own hesitation to share in a bigger way reflects why it is difficult for all of us.

We don’t want to bother others.

Or we don’t want it to change our relationship with them… worried that they will only see our weakness.

Or you know what… maybe we simply want a space in our lives where we can pretend that everything is okay.

As your pastor, I think I worried about it impacting my ability to show up in the way you needed me to… even though, it was impacting my ability to show up in the ways you needed me to.

And what I needed, but maybe was unable to communicate, was some extra grace as I spent a bit more time at home and when I couldn’t be as available as I wanted to be.

I just kept doing what I could, hoping that things would be okay.

I fumbled along… rather than asking for your prayers.

Rather than crying out, “Help!”

Lamott describes this as the hardest prayer, because we are admitting defeat:

“You have to surrender, which is the hardest thing any of us do, ever.”

It is not easy to say, “I can’t fix this.”

We struggle with admitting that things are not okay… sometimes even to ourselves.

But then Lamott goes on to say: “a lot of the time we don’t know when we’re surrendering that we’re actually, at the same time… establishing connection… to a power greater than ourselves.”[ii]

We “open ourselves to being helped by something, some force, some friends, some something.”

When we turn to God and when we turn to our fellow disciples with a prayer of “help!” we don’t just find answers… we find community.

We find people who are not just willing, but eager, to walk alongside us.

We find a God who has always been faithful and good and who will never stop loving and caring for us.

It is why the Psalmist is able to not just cry out for help, but to acknowledge the joy that comes to those who seek him.

And it is why Jesus, in his great prayer of desperation can reconnect with his Father, placing his life in God’s hands… Not my will, but yours.

In saying, I trust you with this… we are also saying, I am in relationship with you.

Friends, when we share our own prayers for help with each other, we are saying to one another:

I believe that you care for me.

I trust that you are in this with me.

And I know the power of God that is with us will continue to give us strength not just for this, but for anything that might come our way.

In asking for help, we are creating the opportunity for us to be blessed by one another.

That doesn’t mean that you need to feel pressure to air all your struggles with the whole body.

It is perfectly okay to have a smaller group of friends and disciples that you trust to walk with you… a friend or two that you know you can be honest and vulnerable with.

Even Jesus chose to take along just a few disciples for his intimate time of prayer in the garden.

I needed that during my struggles… and was so grateful I had it.

But I also want you to remember and to know that this is a praying church.

That if you ask for help and are willing to be vulnerable and share those needs with us, we will be here for you.

We will be united in our prayers, quick and eager to help and respond and show up with whatever might be needed.

Like that early Christian community, we are people who love one another, want what is best for one another, and are willing to share and surround each other with the love and grace and mercy of God.

And I think that when we have the courage to be vulnerable and surrender, we will find that God will simply pour out even more power and strength upon us.

May it be so.

Amen.

[i] 1815, An Essay on the Character and Practical Writings of Saint Paul by Hannah More, Volume 2 of 2, Fourth Edition, Chapter 19, Quote Page 232, Printed for T. Cadell and W. Davies, London.

[ii] https://www.npr.org/2012/11/19/164814269/anne-lamott-distills-prayer-into-help-thanks-wowMusic:

Taste and See God’s Purpose

Posted on June 28, 2022Leave a comment

Text: Matthew 5:1-13

In his translation of the Sermon on the Mount, recorded in Matthew’s Gospel, Eugene Peterson concludes the Beatitudes with these words:

“Let me tell you why you are here…”

You see, this sermon from Jesus is full of instructions for the people of God.

It reminds us of the attitudes we are supposed to carry with us into the world.

Jesus tells us what to do and how to live and how we can serve his Kingdom and what our purpose is for being.

“Let me tell you why you are here…” he begins. “You’re here to be salt-seasoning that brings out the God-flavors of this earth.”

I must admit, when I dove into studying salt into the scripture, I thought that I would just find these passages from the New Testament about being salt and light in the world.

But salt is woven throughout the Bible as God forms a relationship with the Hebrew people!

In the Ancient Near East, salt was often a part of covenants between two parties – as they broke bread, and signed deals, they also ate salt, as part of their promises to fulfill their responsibilities.

So when God makes a covenant with the people, they were also salt covenants.

In Leviticus 2, Numbers 18, and 2 Chronicles 13:5, we find this language of the salt covenant.

As Margaret Feinberg writes, “In each instance, God is asking the people, priests, and kings to enter into a permanent commitment to his purposes.” (Taste and See Bible Study, page 83)

This covenant was remembered through the regular grain offerings, but even in the post-temple Jewish faith, during the Sabbath meal, bread is dipped into salt and then eaten. It remains a symbol of God’s covenant.

What is that covenant?

Well, there are quite a few covenants in the scriptures, but all of them have to do with our purpose.

In Genesis 9, God makes a covenant with Noah after the flood, renewing the blessings of creation and reaffirming that all people are made in God’s image. God promises to preserve humanity – an expression of love and mercy. Our purpose is to bear God’s image and be God’s caretakers for this world.

Just a few chapters, but many years later, we read about the covenant God made with Abraham. It is the promise of land, descendants, and blessing, and through this family, God’s blessings would extend to all the earth. Our purpose is to be a blessing for all the world.

In the book of Exodus, the story of God’s people continues with liberation from oppression in the land of Egypt. God rescues his people and establishes a covenant through Moses, saying “I’ll take you as my people, and I’ll be your God” (Exodus 6). Part of what it means to be God’s people, holy and set-apart, is to live a certain way. God promises blessings if we obey his commands, and consequences if we don’t. Our purpose is to commit ourselves to God’s ways because they are the ways of life!

There is also a covenant with David, a promise that God would lift up a descendent that would make the promises of Abraham and Moses a reality – a never-ending kingdom dedicated to God. Our purpose is walk in the way of the Lord.

And then, we have the new covenant. Spoken of in scriptures of the Old and New Testaments, God sees all of the ways that we have failed to hold up our end of the deal. But rather than give up, God promises to write these commands on our hearts, forgive our sins, give us the Spirit that will finally allow us to be God’s people, and renew the heavens and the earth. Our purpose is to accept the gift of God through Jesus Christ and the Holy Spirit that will allow us to do all of the other things that we had promised to do and to be a witness to all the earth.

These covenants, whether officially “salt covenants” or not, all remind us of our salty purpose.

Our job is to point to the hidden work of God in this world and bring it out.

We are supposed to help the world taste and see and feel and experience the blessings of God.

We are God’s people.

We are the salt of the earth.

I must confess that I have watched more than my fair share of cooking shows.

And one of the things that I notice is that salt is vital for good food.

Whenever a dish is being judged, whether or not it has enough salt seems to be essential for its success.

When you sprinkle salt on watermelon or tomatoes, the flavor of those fruits become sweeter and more crisp.

When you add salt to soup, it becomes rich and deep.

When added to roasted vegetables or French fries… let me tell you – you almost can’t have enough salt on French fries.

Salt takes what is there and brings out the flavors.

And that is our job.

We are called to be out in the world and point to all of the ways that God is moving among us.

Our purpose is to bring out the “god-flavors” of the earth and to help others get a taste of heaven.

But what God is doing in this world is about more than just some spicy good deeds and blessings.

It is about salvation, healing, and abundant life, too.

Which seems a bit ironic, since too much salt can destroy land and turn it into a barren waste.

We talk about rubbing salt into a wound as if it is a bad thing.

But salt is an agent of healing, preservation, an anti-septic, and is essential for life.

In fact, many fertilizers incorporate sodium or potassium chloride as ingredients and salt is needed even in manure placed on crops because it breaks it down so that plants can absorb the nutrients.

If you head to the hospital, one of the first things they will often do is hook you up to a saline drip, because salt is critical to the functioning of our cells, enables our nerves to transmit impulses and stimulates our muscle fibers (Taste and See 103).

My husband and I will often watch the History channel show, Alone, in which ten contestants are dropped off in the wilderness to survive on their own for as long as they can. They can choose to bring with them only ten survival items and for the first time in nine seasons, a contestant has chosen to bring a block of salt. So often, that salt deficiency has played havoc with the health of contestants who are pulled before there are ready to quit.

Feinberg recounts in her book about how the Romans saw salt as vital to the expansion of their empire. As the armies were sent great distances to conquer new lands, salt deprivation was impacting their efficiency – causing “confusion, seizures, even brain damage.” So the Romans, “began including salt, sal in Latin, in their soldier’s pay. This is where we derive the word ‘salary’.” (Taste and See, p. 103-104).

We find this in our scriptures as well.

Elisha tosses salt into a cursed spring in order to purify the waters.

Ezekiel describes how newborn babies are rubbed with salt after they are born – a cleansing practice as salt serves as both an exfoliant and disinfectant.

In the incense for worship at the tabernacle and temple, salt was an essential component and the scent played a role in reminding people of their relationship with God.

But, therapies related to salt inhalation have also been used since the 1800s, and is seen as beneficial for breathing, stress, and your immune system… so I do wonder what positive impacts such practice might have had for the people.

And the very root of salvation, is that same Latin base word, sal.

Salvare means to save.

To preserve.

To rescue.

When Jesus calls us to be the salt of the earth, he reminds us of our purpose.

“Let me tell you why you are here…”

Jesus is asking us to be his hands and feet in this world.

To be his people.

To serve his Kingdom.

And what God is doing through us is bringing life, healing, blessings, renewal, and salvation to this world.

Feinberg shares in her book some wisdom from the Talmud that says:

“if someone is suffering and in need, and you can take away 1/60 of their pain, then that is goodness, and the call to help us from God…. Your one little grain of salt can help with something someone else’s grain can’t. And when all [our] grains get mixed and sprinkled together, preserving and flavoring and helping others flourish occurs everywhere.” (Taste and See p. 114).

Friends, I know that this country is starkly divided about a lot of things.

There are major conversations happening as we speak about rights related to abortion, guns, and human sexuality.

In some of cases we are expanding those rights and in so many places, laws and work is being done to curtail them.

And I keep thinking about the role of salt.

Too much can be deadly and it can destroy a land.

But a healthy dose is necessary for life.

I keep thinking about my sisters who have had to have procedures that in some places would be illegal in order to preserve their lives or to care for their bodies in the wake of a miscarriage or even delivery.

You have to pay attention to what someone or something needs and be able to respond with the right kind of care to provide for healing, blessing, renewal, and salvation.

My colleague, Elizabeth Brick, shared some words yesterday that I wanted to borrow and adapt to share with you.

As your pastor, but also as a fellow Christian on the road with you, “I will drive you to your medical procedure, no matter what it is, and I will care for you afterward if you need, because that is what love looks like.”

I will support you as you seek the opportunities that bring you life… whether it is playing sports or getting married or simply holding down a job… no matter your gender or gender identity, because you are a child of God.

And in all of our decision-making, I promise to hold you accountable and set before us all the vision of responsibility and care that God has invited us to practice towards one another.

“I will be there for you, as you have been here for me, as together we will be there for others, because this is what a healthy community looks like.

This is how we continue to create, grow, and nurture a world of mutuality, compassion, and joy, not just for ourselves, but for those who follow behind us.”

God is working through us to bring life, healing, blessings, renewal, and salvation to this world.

We are called to preserve the teachings of Christ and carry them forward.

We are called to reach out and point to the sweetness, hope, and joy of a life with God.

We are called to influence others, bring out new life, and offer mercy and compassion and love.

But we don’t do it alone.

It is God working through us.

It is us pointing to God already busy and active in the world.

And just like with salt added to a meal, even a little bit makes a difference.

Home By Another Way

Posted on January 2, 2022Leave a comment

Text: Matthew 2:1-12

In the middle of December, Brandon and I were able to get away for an incredible six-day, seven-state, three-national park road trip.

Over the prairies…

through the mountains…

across the desert…

through Arches…

our target was the Grand Canyon.

I had never been before and it had probably been 25 years since Brandon had gone himself, and I have to say that ever since we took our Summer Road Trip through scripture last year here at Immanuel, it has been at the top of my list for sights I wanted to see.

I felt like it was calling me.

I felt this urge to stand at the edge and just soak in the vastness, the majesty, the wonder of this amazing feature of God’s creation.

In light of everything happening in the world, I thought it might provide some perspective.

So, in the fall of 2020, Brandon and I started talking about this trip.

We began to carve out time in our schedules and initially decided that we wanted to watch the sunrise at the Grand Canyon for our anniversary in August of 2021.

Routes were plotted, reservations were made, time was taken off from work…

And eight days before our trip, we hit a bump in the road.

Brandon fell and cut open his chin, but we had a few concerns about the cause of the fall and doctor’s appointments to schedule.

It didn’t seem like the right time to be away from our medical resources.

But that urge to go… it was still there.

And so once we figured out that all was well, we began to plan again.

We discovered a small window of time and started to retrace the path we wanted to take.

Only there was one major difference.

It was winter and we had no idea what to expect for weather.

So our back-up plans had back-up plans and we only planned for the first half of our trip – unsure of how we might get home.

“The Wise Men’s Dream” by Rev. Lauren Wright Pittman | A Sanctified Art LLC | sanctifiedart.org

Now, the Grand Canyon isn’t a miraculous star in the heavens… but perhaps now, more than before, I can understand why the magi had that yearning deep within to set off for unknown lands in search of wonder and majesty.

In her reflection on this piece, Rev. Lauren Wright Pittman writes:

“The Wise Men followed the direction of the shimmering, dotted lights of the night sky, and receive instruction in the subconscious world of sleep. They are ready and willing to discern God’s will in the outward, tangible signs of Creation… God is in it all, and they are paying attention…”

It pulled them over plains and mountains and deserts.

And while they knew what they were seeking, a king who had been born, they also really had no clue what to expect.

They had never traveled that way before.

And just as I sat staring out the window at the ever-changing landscape, I imagine on the backs of their camels or donkeys or whatever beasts they rode, they soaked it all in as well.

I can imagine the obstacles they faced and had to overcome – rivers to cross, mountain passes to navigate, robbers on the road, long stretches with no cities or villages to replenish supplies.

I can also imagine that at every place they stopped and every person they met, they shared aloud their anticipation for where they were going.

I mean, that’s what I did. Every time someone asked along our journey where we were headed, I practically burst forth – To the GRAND CANYON!

Surely, to go and see a king was just as exciting.

And they did it!

They made it to Jerusalem, just six miles away from where Jesus had been born, and knocked on the door of the palace…

King Herod had been appointed from among his fellow Jewish leaders because he was willing to put the needs of his people second and the will of the Romans first.

Through maneuvering, money, scheming, treachery, he had climbed as high as he could on the political ladder. He banished his first wife and child in order to marry the granddaughter of an elite in Rome. And then grew jealous of his second wife and executed her for adultery… eventually marrying five different times. He killed his brother-in-law on charges of conspiracy and some of his own sons because he thought they would usurp his seat of power.

When the magi arrive in Jerusalem, instead of bowing down before King Herod and honoring all of the power and authority he had grabbed for himself.. they want to worship someone else.

You see, this season invites us to honor what God is doing… not the powers of this world.

To honor love and not fear.

To honor mercy and not judgment.

To let go of our power and to offer ourselves, rather than taking what we think belongs to us.

But the powers of this world will try to confuse and misdirect and lead us any direction but God.

Notice again in this painting… but this time look to the background…

Pittman surrounds the dream of the wise men with “hands pointing in every direction except for the direction of God’s leading.”

What amazes me is how Herod kept his cool in the face of such a question… although I suppose anyone who has lied and stolen his way to the top knows how to deceive and pretend to get what they want.

Herod, you see, wants to know where this child is, too.

This baby is one more threat to his rule that must be eliminated.

This child represents that there are people in this world who are willing to resist oppression and overthrow their leaders.

This infant means that maybe the time for Roman rule has ended for the people of Israel – and that would mean that Herod’s time had come as well.

So instead of standing in their way, Herod recruits the magi to help him find this future king, pretending that he would like to bow down and worship him as well.

And so off they go, with new directions and they discovered the star leading them as well.

Matthew tells us that when they saw the star again, they were filled with joy.

It reminded me of what it was like to go those last few miles in Grand Canyon National Park after a long day on the road.

We knew we were close, and the setting sun was peeking out from beneath the clouds and lighting up the sky as we made our way close.

Brandon parked the truck and we hopped out to intensely cold wind and started making our way to the Desert Watchtower lookout.

And a gentleman called out to us… if you run, you will see the sunset…

So we took off, bursting with excitement and anticipation for that first glimpse of what we had traveled all that way to see.

And it took my breath away.

Brandon and I were the only ones at the lookout and we sat down on this little bench and just took it in.

And I thought of all that God has created and done.

The heights and depths and amazing intricate detail of how God is working in our midst.

It filled me with awe to think of how like the water of that river has gently, slowly, over time, carved a path through that rock… God has been making a way, gently, slowly, over time, for the birth of this holy child.

Matthew tells us that the magi fell on their knees at the sight of the child and his mother and they honored him.

A holy moment of worship and awe.

I imagine that the magi… like the shepherds before them… would have wanted to run and shout and tell the whole world about what they had seen.

I thought about while as much as I was trying to soak in the view, I also wanted to capture a picture… a way to share with others what I had just witnessed.

You see, good news is contagious.

The wonder of God wants to be known!

And so I’m sure the magi were busy making plans to head back the same way they came… to stop first by Jerusalem and share all of the details with Herod and then to stop back at each place along the way of that route they had travelled.

But that night, they dreamed a collective dream, warning them of what could happen if they did so.

As Pittman writes, “The Wise Men have a choice. They could succumb to the pressure of the King, which is think in the air and pressing in all around them, or they could choose to listen to the mysterious guiding of their sleeping vision. They decide to change up the narrative and resist the domineering, violent powers of this world, trusting their dream, and taking the long, likely dangerous, journey home by another way.”

It wasn’t just that they took another way home.

I think it was also that the journey to see the King had changed them.

As T.S. Eliot writes in his poem, The Journey of the Magi:

“We returned to our places, these Kingdoms,
But no longer at ease here, in the old dispensation,
With an alien people clutching their gods.”

They had encountered God-in-the-flesh, Emmanuel… how could they ever be the same?

How could we ever be the same?

Brandon and I didn’t have plans for our journey home, but kind of let ourselves be open to wherever the road might take us. We decided not to go back the same way, but those amazing sights stirred up in us the desire to see more and do more.

We were able to see Petrified Rock National Park and visit the Georgia O’Keefe museum in Santa Fe and even discovered a collection of art-cars in a little town in Colorado. We journeyed through national grasslands and watched hundreds of tumbleweeds blow by ahead of us on the road.

We let ourselves be open to the possibility of what else there was to discover and are already making plans for our next road trip… wanting to be back out there, in the midst of creation, taking in all that this world has to offer.

All throughout this season of Advent and Christmas and now Epiphany, we have been asking what it means for God to make a home among us… what it means to accept God’s invitation to come home… and what it means to make a home for others.

And in a world of strife and busyness and fear… a world of stress and illness and exhaustion… a world that keeps us distracted by pointing fingers in every direction but the one where God is…

What would it mean for us to go home another way.

To do it differently.

To slow down.

To pay attention to what is happening in creation and the people around us.

To listen for those nudges from God that change our paths.

As you leave the service this morning, we are going to invite you to take a star word… and whatever word it is that you draw, I want you to think about the possibilities that are before you.

What if you are called to go another way?

Listen for what you might be called to embrace or to let go.

After all, God is still shining in this world.

The light of Christ is still leading us.

Renewing us…

Transforming us…

Calling us home by another way.

Let’s take one step… and then another… together, until we finally make it home.

Amen.

Let Go and Love

Posted on October 17, 2021Leave a comment

Text: Deuteronomy 15:1-2, 7-11; Matthew 19: 16-22

Over the last week or two, my husband and I have watched the first season of Netflix’s immensely popular Korean drama, Squid Game.

It isn’t a show I would recommend you run home and watch… it is incredibly and senselessly violent… but as I thought about our texts for this morning, I kept going back to the show’s premise.

456 players are invited into a game.

They are all drowning in debt.

Overwhelmed by what they owe.

And if they play and win six games, children’s games, they will receive the equivalent of $38 million dollars.

If they lose, they forfeit their life.

In an AP story about the series, Kim Tong-Hyung notes that the story is striking nerves in South Korea where debt is soaring:

“Many South Koreans despair of advancing in a society where good jobs are increasingly scarce and housing prices have skyrocketed, enticing many to borrow heavily to gamble on risky financial investments or cryptocurrencies. Household debt, at over… ($1.5 trillion), now exceeds the country’s annual economic output.”

You can’t help but notice those underlying concerns for a society on the brink because of debt as you watch Squid Game… televisions in the background of scenes echo these kind of sobering statistics.

And it isn’t just South Korea. Household debt in the United States just reached a new high at $15 trillion; the average debt among consumers is $92,727. This includes mortgages and student loans, as well as credit card balances… not all of which is unhealthy debt to carry. And yet the weight of those bills looms over us.

The players in the Squid Game are given a choice. They could live with the consequences of their debt or they could take a chance on a life where they would never have to worry about debt again.

But they would have to fight, and kill, and scheme their way to the top.

Unlike the show, where players are given a choice between life and death, scripture shows us a third way.

What if we were set free from the burden of debt… without having to harm or sacrifice or step on the lives of others?

If we go back to our text from Deuteronomy, that was God’s intention for human community.

Moses lays out what the ten commandments mean for their practical life with one another. We find instructions, laws, intended to help us love God, love our neighbor, and trust in God’s blessings.

And one of those rules is that every seventh year, the people were instructed to cancel all debts. Forgive the loan. Release the debtor. And if we read on through the end of the chapter, the call to set free any indebted servants or slaves.

This is because the burden of debt impacts not just the person who owes money, but their family for generations to come.

It impacts their dignity and their worth as a human being.

It creates classes and distinctions between us as people that are unhealthy.

As Lisle Gwynn Garrity writes in her artist statement, “the scheduled practice of releasing debts every seven years was designed to be both preventative and restorative. It prevented the wealth gap from growing beyond repair. It prevented systemic poverty from becoming strategic enslavement. It softened hearts turned cold and loosened fists clenched too tight. This practice of release reminds us that net worth is not synonymous with self-worth.” (A Sanctified Art)

I can’t help but think about the UAW strike at John Deere as I read those words. The reality is that there is a growing gap between the wages of workers and management. One of the primary concerns of labor right now is how to fairly share record earnings with employees and criticism over the drastic salary increases of the CEO.

Rules like these were intended to care for the dignity of each person and their relationship to the larger community.

But they were also a way to experience the continued blessings of God.

Just as God had set them free from the land of Egypt, so they were to set one another free.

Their communal economic life is to be rooted in freedom and stewardship and generosity. Rev. Pamela Hawkins writes, “Women and men are to embody God’s love for neighbors through practical, timely forgiving of debts and freeing of slaves, practicing a theology of liberation.” (CEB Women’s Bible, page 226)

And likewise, the people were called to be generous to those in need, lending freely to the poor. No matter if the person could repay. No matter if the year of jubilee was coming near.

The Israelites were called to freely give of their possessions, because as Elizabeth Corrie notes, “the land – and the wealth it provided – belonged to God. We show ingratitude when we refuse to share what was never ours to keep.” (CEB Women’s Bible, page 226)

We show ingratitude when we refuse to share what was never ours to keep.

Stewardship is the awareness that everything we have and everything we are is a gift.

A precious, precarious gift.

Not something to be hoarded but meant to be freely shared so that everyone we meet can receive these blessings of God as well.

But when we choose to play economic games that create winners and losers, the rich and the poor, slaves and owners… we have turned to a life of sin.

As Liz Theoharis puts it, it is, “…a sin against God if your brother or sister has to call out against you because you’re robbing their wages or because you’re not releasing their debts or because you’re making them slaves… the way you honor God is by how you care for yourself and your neighbor… There’s no way to be right with God if your neighbor is being oppressed.”

Which brings us to our text from Matthew.

A rich man approaches Jesus, searching for how to experience eternal, abundant life with God.

“Keep the commandments,” is Jesus’ answer… specifically all of the commandments that have to do with loving our neighbor.

Jesus doesn’t tell the man to say a particular prayer.

Or to focus on his own personal relationship with his Savior.

Jesus invites the man to take responsibility for the lives of his neighbors.

And while this man with many possessions replies that he has done this, Jesus pushes him further: “If you want to be complete, go, sell what you own, and give the money to the poor. Then you will have treasure in heaven. And come follow me.”

You see, I don’t think we can separate this story of the rich man from our text in Deuteronomy.

He is living in a day and a time when the practice of Jubilee… the seventh year releasing of debts was not being practiced.

And yet, the reality of God’s intention for our human community remains the same.

Our economic lives and our spiritual lives are one in the same and we honor God by how we care for ourselves and our neighbors.

We honor God by being generous with the gifts we have received.

We honor God by being responsible stewards of what was “never ours to keep.”

We honor God by letting go of what we think belongs to us so that others might have life and life abundant.

And this man didn’t know if he could let go.

In preparing for today, I came across a wonderful piece by Leah Schade called “I want Jesus to Let Me Off the Hook: The Rich Young Man and Me.”

She describes what she wishes she found in this text:

“I can follow Jesus’ prescribed sequence in reverse! 1) Follow him. 2) get my heaven-treasure. 3) Give some money to “the poor.” 4) Sell off a couple of things I don’t want at a yard sale. 5) go happily on my way…

But it doesn’t work that way does it?” Schade writes. “Jesus was specific about the order of those verbs: go, sell, give, receive, follow.”

It is in letting go, in giving, that we receive.

It is in holding our wealth and our ways loosely, that we discover immense riches.

When we focus our lives on the needs of others, we will discover the path to God.

Or as Theoharis put it, we can’t forget the content of the good news Jesus came to preach: ” and that is release of slaves, remission of debts, and the year of the Jubilee.”

As we studied this summer, the first Christian community tried to live this out. They sold their possessions and gave it all to the community and there was no one in need among them.

They came to experience the joy of a life where the blessings of God were shared by one and all. A life where they truly loved God and loved their neighbors every single day.

They let go of class distinctions between the wealthy and the poor.

They let go of the power that money holds over their lives.

They let go of the shame of having too much or too little.

They let go and released it all and they rested and trusted in God’s blessings that poured into their lives.

Where do we find ourselves in this story?

We find ourselves in a world filled with debt.

A world with huge economic and social disparities between the wealthy and the poor.

In the final episode of Squid Game… and don’t worry, it’s not a spoiler… one of the characters ponders a life of poverty and a life of riches:

“Do you know what someone who doesn’t have any money has in common with someone with too much money to know what to do with?” he asks. “Living is no fun for either of them.”

But honestly, it isn’t just about the rich and the poor. We find ourselves in a world in which we do believe our self-worth is tied in with our net worth and so we have leveraged our lives to gain an illusion.

Or as Leah Schade points out… “most of us are just ‘desperately faking middle class.’ Many of us are just one disaster, one health crisis, one pink slip… away from losing everything…”

Because that is the thing, right… the lesson from Deuteronomy… whether we are rich or poor, the debtor or the collector, the slave or the owner… is all a twist of fate.

We find ourselves in a life and death struggle to keep moving up, everyone so desperately clinging to what we have, and frankly, it isn’t fun for any of us.

But there is another way.

What must we do to have eternal life? Real, true, abundant living?

A life filled with joy and treasures and community and grace and love?

e need to let go of the power that money holds over our lives.

We need to let go of our shame and our anxiety, our guilt and our greed.

We need to let go of the idea that the stuff we have will save us.

And while it isn’t going to be a popular idea… we need to release the people around us.

We need to let go of the idea that another person deserves to be poor or that someone has earned their wealth.

We need to set one another free from our debts and labels.

We need repent of how our economic practices have kept folks in generational poverty and have created divisions between us.

Because we were all slaves in the land of Egypt.

We were all formed from the dust of the earth.

We all have the breath of the living God within us.

We need to discover what it means to truly let go and love our neighbors.

Maybe then, we will discover once again the blessings of God that are so richly poured out upon us all.

For when we go to the world…

When we give all we think we possess away…

We will find the joy of abundant life.

Not just for ourselves, but for everyone we meet.

Amen.

Follow the Star : Epiphany

Posted on January 3, 2021Leave a comment

Has God ever spoken to you?
Have you ever seen a sign?
Heard a voice?
Met God in a dream?

As I was finishing up my senior year of high school, I was kind of a mess. I could not figure out where I wanted to go to college, and my indecision was creating a lot of anxiety. I worried that if I made the wrong choice it would affect everything from that point on in my life.
I had this portable filing box filled with folders and acceptance letters and brochures and applications and I was overwhelmed by it all.
But one afternoon, I found myself driving home from a youth event and I knew….
Like a light bulb turning on above my head…
I knew that I was going to Simpson College.
Never mind that it wasn’t even one of the schools in my folders or that I hadn’t even applied yet.
It just came to me and felt like everything was suddenly right with the world.

The word Epiphany means “an appearance or manifestation” and the twelfth day after Christmas we celebrate how God’s love became manifest in human form
And we remember all of the people who first experienced this revelation of good news: the shepherds in the fields, Mary and Joseph, and the wise men from the East.

I keep thinking about how God acted and spoke and moved and showed up in the lives of these totally unrelated people from different background and realities.
Some of them might not even have known the God of the Israelites.
But through dreams and signs and nudges and messengers, God showed up in their lives.
As the prophet, Isaiah, cried out…
Arise! Shine! For your light has come… though darkness covers the earth and gloom the nations, the Lord will shine upon you… Nations will come to your light and kings to your dawning radiance. (60:1-3)
Not just the faithful people of God would be drawn near, but nations! Kings! Strangers! Unbelievers!

As Matthew tells us, it wasn’t simply a star in the sky that drew the magi to Bethlehem.
They recognized that the star itself was a sign, a message of something bigger. It was the light of Christ himself, revealed to the entire world, that pulled those magi over mountains and deserts and seas to the countryside surrounding Jerusalem.
Before they even knew who he would become or what it meant for their lives, this epiphany, appearance, manifestation, changed their lives.
They felt a nudge to move, to act, to respond.
And they did.

When John Wesley talked about the grace that transforms our lives, he started out by talking about prevenient grace.
The grace that goes before us.
The grace that shows up in the lives of people before they even know who God is.
Prevenient grace is why we baptize little babies.
It was the neighbor who reached out to invite you to come to church.
It was website you stumbled across when you were looking for a new faith home.
It was the faithful actions of your parents and grandparents that laid a foundation for you.
Prevenient grace is that first nudge.
The invitation.
The awareness of a different kind of possibility.
A sign. A star. A word.
Something that shifts.
We don’t always know yet how, or why, or what it means, but it changes us.

I saw how many of you were drawn out of your homes just a couple of weeks ago to catch a glimpse of that great conjunction of Saturn and Jupiter in the sky. While it was possible to see with your naked eye or through binoculars, this particular photo was made available by Greg Hogan. It was taken as a long exposure shot from central Georgia.
This was a once-in-a-lifetime experience… after all it has been 800 years since these planets appeared so closely.
But I think part of what was so powerful about this experience is that we are hungry for light.
We are hungry for hope.
We are hungry for just a glimmer of possibility and joy.
We find ourselves at the start of a new year, and yet still in the midst of a pandemic.
Our world, feels kind of bleak right now.
But so it was at the time of Jesus’ birth and in the time of Isaiah.
Forces of death and violence, power and pride lurked around every corner.
They knew the despair of exile and occupation.
They knew isolation and helplessness.
But into their midst, Isaiah heard God’s call:
“Arise! Shine! Lift up your Eyes!”
In the midst of everything that is going wrong, LOOK!
Look for those glimmers of grace.
Those indications of hope.
Those moments of possibility.
Pay attention to the invitation…
See what God is doing all around you…
The magi in the East recognized that this star was leading them on a journey into the unknown. And they chose to follow the star that led them to Jesus.

This Epiphany, in the midst of everything happening in our world that feels bleak and difficult, I want to invite you to get up. To shine. To pay attention.
I want to invite you on a journey.
For the last few years on this Sunday, we have come forward to draw star words.
Each star came with a word, an intention, a little nudge from God… something to pay attention to in the coming year.
This year, rather than each drawing our own words, we are going to follow the stars together.
We are going to take time each Sunday to focus on how a few star words speak into our lives.
How they call us to go deeper.
Live more faithfully.
Grow in our discipleship.
And just like the magi, I want to invite you to not only be willing to offer your gifts with God… but I want to invite you to be open to what God might be giving to you in this journey.

You know, when I had that epiphany to go to Simpson College, I had no clue what God had in store for me.
Heck, Simpson didn’t even have a meteorology department and that was what I intended to study.
But I opened myself to the possibilities and how I could best serve God and just look where I ended up.
It was all because I allowed myself to pay attention to those nudges and I decided to take a risk and follow them.

Whether we are new to this faith or we have been coming to church for nearly a century… God is still shining in your life.
God is still guiding you.
God is still speaking… nudging… showing up…
God is still creating a new thing in you….
Renewing you…
Transforming you…
So that every one of us might become more and more like Christ.

Friends, a star is shining in the sky.
In a world that is bleak and frustrated and tired and worn out, there is a glimmer of possibility.
Of something new.
Unknown.
And if you open your life up to it…
If you take one step… and then another…
If you bring along some friends…
If you let that nudge work in your life…
It just might change everything.

May it be so…

The Wise and the Lazy

Posted on November 15, 2020Leave a comment

Text: Matthew 25

This morning in worship, we are actually covering the three discussions of the Kingdom of Heaven we find in Matthew chapter 25.

The ten bridesmaids.
The valuable coins.
And the sheep and the goats.

So often when we look at these stories, we examine them in isolation. We look at them one at a time and try to discern the moral of each of these tales.

So in the parable of the ten bridesmaids, we discover a lesson about being prepared.
Ten bridesmaids are waiting for the groom to show up. Five were wise and brought plenty of oil for their lamps. But five were foolish and left the extra oil behind. When the groom finally shows up, the foolish bridesmaids don’t have enough oil and have to run out and buy some and they get back too late. They get shut out of the party.
This is the perfect boy scout parable right? Be prepared.

In the parable of the valuable coins, we discover a lesson about stewardship.
A man goes on a trip and leaves his wealth to his servants. One gets five coins, another two, and the last one… each according to their ability. The first two take those coins and make more wealth, but the last one is afraid and hides the coin. When the master returns, the first two servants are celebrated and promoted, but the final one is thrown out.
Take your gifts and your talents, we discover, and use them, don’t bury them.

And of course there is that familiar passage about the sheep and the goats.
The Son of Man will sit on the throne in the final days and will judge the people. Those who served their neighbor are those who served Jesus. They will inherit the Kingdom of Heaven. But those who ignored their neighbors, looking out only for themselves, will sent away to eternal punishment.
We Methodists love this parable. It reminds us that loving our neighbor is just as important as loving our God. Sometimes, we even say that it’s all that matters. That our good deeds will get us into heaven.

Why did Matthew choose to link these three stories about the Kingdom together?
Let’s look at what surrounds it.
Matthew 24 is apocalyptic, describing what will happen at the end of the age, the end times as we like to talk about it today.
There will be signs of trouble, earthquakes, famines, hate and betrayal…
There is a “disgusting and destructive thing” that shows up… a nod back to the apocalyptic visions of Daniel and the abomination in the temple when the daily sacrifice is abolished.
People will flee, the whole world will experience great suffering, the skies will darken…
And then the Human One, the Son of man will appear to gather the chosen ones.
No one will know when this will happen except God, so we should be prepared and keep alert and keep working, like wise and faithful servants.

Okay… so that is what comes before our three stories for this morning.
But what comes after?
Jesus is handed over.
Judas betrays him.
He shares in a final meal with the disciples and then they in turn fall away.
He is arrested, put on trial, and killed.
And after his resurrection, Jesus ascends to heaven.

Sandwiched in between apocalyptic visions and the crucifixion, resurrection, and ascension of Jesus we find these three stories.
Matthew is writing to a community that is living after the resurrection.
He is writing to people whose master is away.
But they are also experiencing trials and persecution and conflict.
It felt like their world was ending and like the Kingdom of Heaven was a long way off.
What should they do in this time of waiting?

On Wednesday, I heard an interview with Thao Nguyen, a musician who wrote a song about her own apocalyptic reality in San Francisco. On September 9th, the skies turned orange from the area wildfires and she tried to make sense of what it all meant:
“It was just this culminating event to capture unspeakable despair and defeat… You can’t help but reckon in a more existential way – to ask, what have we wrought? What have we desecrated? What is sacred, and how do we protect it, and are we willing to? I mean that in the environment, I mean that in people. What lives matter? Where is our grace?”

I think today, we find ourselves in a place where we can really relate to those early Christians who would have first heard the Gospel of Matthew.
With all of the trouble that we are experiencing, it feels like everything is falling apart.
We are weary of this pandemic.
We are weary of working for institutional change in the church and in our society.
We are wearing of fighting with one another.
We want to throw in the towel.
Run to our separate corners.
Focus on ourselves.
Drink an extra glass of wine to numb the world.
But the message Jesus offers here is to not let your love grow cold.
Keep calm.
Keep the faith.
Keep going.
Don’t be distracted.
Don’t give up.
Don’t stop building the Kingdom.

I think the lynchpin for interpreting the three stories we find in Matthew 25 is actually a little parable about faithful servants at the end of chapter 24.
The ones who take care to keep fulfilling their responsibilities while the master is away, unlike the bad servants who think, eh, it will be a while, and focus on their own selfish objectives.
What are our responsibilities at the servants of God right here and right now?
What is sacred and how can we protect it, fight for it, live into it?
How should we faithfully wait?

Let’s go back to those parables…
In the parable of the bridesmaids, I find the reminder to hang on to the truth that there really will be a wedding someday.
We are coming near to the season of Advent where we wait for the coming of Jesus and we aren’t simply preparing for Christmas. We are waiting for the day that Jesus will come again to bring the Kingdom of Heaven about in all of its fullness.
We can’t simply go about our own business while we wait – we are called to be bridesmaids, getting ready for that day.
I notice this time around when I read the text that ALL of the bridesmaids, not just those labeled as foolish, fell asleep on the job.
Waiting and working for the Kingdom can be tiresome work.
But we have to keep laboring in God’s name.

I also start to notice the fear in the parable.
First, the unprepared and foolish bridesmaids were afraid.
They were afraid that they would be found wanting. That they were inadequate. That they had to have it all together to be included.
And so they run off and turn away and leave their responsibilities in order to try to compensate.
I begin to wonder… what would have happened if they had just stuck around? If they showed up just as they were?
On the other hand, the “wise” bridesmaids were filled with fear, too.
You see, they thought if they shared their oil, there wouldn’t be enough for them.
They forgot the whole purpose of the coming celebration was to be together.
And when they let fear and scarcity rule their hearts, they turn away from mercy and hospitality and it leaves five of their friends out in the dark.

Suddenly this parable is not about making sure we are prepared so we can get into heaven but is a call to actively wait, to show up as we are, and to share what we have so that all can experience God’s Kingdom.

Okay… what about the parable of the talents?
Well, the first thing I notice this time is that this isn’t a separate story.
If we look at the Greek, it is actually a continuation of the previous one.
For like a man who is absent calls in his servants and entrusts everything he has to them, we are called to actively wait for his return.
We are called to build upon what Jesus has left to us.
Two of these servants do this, but the third is afraid.
Ahh, there is fear again!
This servant was given incredible responsibility, but neglected to do their part.

You see, the Kingdom of Heaven is not a gift that we are given when we accept Jesus, only to hide and hoard, waiting for the day the master finally returns.
The Kingdom of Heaven is about what we are building with that gift right now.

This point is driven home in the final of these three stories.
We get a vision of what will happen when the Son of Man finally appears.
When the master returns home.
When the Kingdom of Heaven arrives in its fullness.
And we find a sort of parallel of the less familiar story at the end of Matthew 24.
Those who inherit the Kingdom are those who have been faithful servants.
In her weekly reflection, Debie Thomas writes, “the coming of God’s kingdom in all of its healing, justice-making fullness is the yardstick against which we must measure all of our own healing, justice-making efforts. The wedding feast is our ideal, our goal, our destination. Without it, we have no standard. No accountability. Nothing to lean into, nothing to work towards, nothing to anticipate as we labor in God’s name.”
In other words, everything we do right now should be held up to what we expect to find in the Kingdom of Heaven.
This parable isn’t about earning a ticket into heaven.
It is about embracing the Kingdom of Heaven right here and right now.
The fullness of life, true aliveness, eternal life is ours.
Not just living as if it our reality, but claiming it AS our reality.
Not being afraid of judgment, or imperfection, or scarcity, but simply being faithful.
Putting one foot in front of the other every day.
No matter what happens.
Wars or earthquakes or famine or persecution…
All of that is temporary and none of it excuses us from the work that is before us.

Those who are shut out of the Kingdom of Heaven, you see, are the ones who simply have failed to live within it.
The bad servants who said to themselves, eh, I’ll worry about that later.
No, now is the time.
Now is the Kingdom.
All around you is heaven.
Let’s get to work.

A Feast of Terror and Abundance

Posted on November 8, 2020Leave a comment

Text: Matthew 22:1-14; Isaiah 25:1-10

So, all month long in our daily devotions we are focusing on where the Kingdom of Heaven shows up in the gospel of Matthew.
What we discover is an awful lot about how we should live right here and right now.
The Sermon on the Mount is filled with ethical instruction about how we treat one another in the Kingdom… which is often the opposite of what the world expects.
We’re called to put all of this teaching into practice in our lives and get out there and start sharing the Kingdom of Heaven with everyone we meet by healing and teaching and building relationships.
And then, we get to the parables.

This coming week we are going to talk each day about some of the shorter parables…
The Kingdom of Heaven is like a mustard seed, or leaven, or a net thrown into the ocean…
But for the next two weeks, I want to focus on some of the big and complicated parables we find in this gospel.

Parables, as I shared in yesterday’s devotion, are stories about ordinary things that draw people in, but have a meaning that is often hidden from plain sight.
They are meant to provoke us, to get under our skin, or as Debie Thomas puts it: “show us things we don’t want to see.”
Because they are stories, they have layers of interpretation, not just one way of seeing them. Jewish rabbis in the time of Jesus would have debated and wrestled and turned a scripture upside down and inside out and every single time would have discovered something new within it.
That is how we are invited to dive in… with open minds and willing spirits.
We are invited to dig into the history and the context that surrounds these simple narratives to try to grasp how the crowds around Jesus might have heard them.
And then we are supposed to ask how God is working to challenge the assumptions we bring into the story.

So today, we have the parable of the wedding banquet.
Now, usually when we look at this parable, we imagine that the King is God, right? God has invited the chosen ones to the party, and when they refuse, God throws open the doors to anyone else who might come.
Well, that is the sanitized version of that story.
Because it skips over all of the terrifying parts.
This is not a happy and blissful scene, but something that is straight out of a horror film.
When the invited guests don’t show up, in his rage, the king has them all murdered and sets the whole city on fire.

Then, the king pulls in everyone who is left – good or bad, rich or poor – and in essence, forces them to attend the party.
I mean, if they refuse, they might turn out like those initial guests, right?
All of these leftover nobodies show up, probably with fear and trembling.
Then, when the King looks out at the crowd, he sees one person who isn’t wearing the right thing and has him thrown out into the darkness.

Debie Thomas asks us:
“As Christ’s followers, do we really believe in a God as petty, vengeful, hotheaded, and thin-skinned as the king in this parable? A God who burns an entire city to the ground in order to appease his wounded ego? A God who forces people to celebrate…while his armies wreak destruction right outside? A God who casts an impoverished guest into the “outer darkness” for reasons the guest absolutely can’t control? Obviously the answer is no. Of course we don’t believe in a God as monstrous as that. Do we?”

One of the things that I remember my grandpa saying pretty clearly is that he didn’t understand the God of the Old Testament.
The God he found there was violent.
The God he found there punished the people.
But the God of the New Testament was full of grace and mercy and forgiveness.

But I think we can only say that is true if we selectively read through the scriptures and we skip over interpretations of parables like this.
And I’m reminded that it also requires us to skip over the promises and visions of abundance and love we find in the Torah and Prophets and Writings.
In fact, in the back of my mind, I’ve been thinking about not the wedding feast of terror from our reading today, but the feast of abundance in Isaiah 25 and 55.

Isaiah cries out…
…the Lord of heavenly forces will prepare for all peoples
a rich feast, a feast of choice wines,
of select foods rich in flavor…
He will swallow up on this mountain the veil … swallow up death forever.
The Lord God will wipe tears from every face;
he will remove his people’s disgrace from off the whole earth,
for the Lord has spoken.
They will say on that day,
“Look! This is our God,
for whom we have waited—
and he has saved us!

All of you who are thirsty, come to the water!
Whoever has no money, come, buy food and eat!
Without money, at no cost, buy wine and milk!
Why spend money for what isn’t food,
and your earnings for what doesn’t satisfy?
Listen carefully to me and eat what is good;
enjoy the richest of feasts.
Listen and come to me;
listen, and you will live.

Surrounding these passages are mentions of God’s judgement.
Of walls being trampled and people being destroyed.
But here is the thing about the prophets.
They were speaking to a people who were actively experiencing their own ruin.
Their cities were being overrun and burned to the ground by occupying forces.
Their neighbors were being killed.
And they had to try to make sense of what was happening.
How could God have let them down?
Why weren’t they protected?
And what the prophets proclaimed in this moment is that the rulers and the people needed to acknowledge their own sin and complicity and failures.
But every single time, the prophets also spoke of Gods redemptive love.
They set forth a vision of abundance and grace and restoration.
You see, the God proclaimed in these texts is not petty or cruel… no, God’s steadfast love endures forever.
God is patiently waiting, with the banquet table always abundantly set, ready to swallow up death forever.

How do we reconcile that vision with our traditional interpretations of this parable?
Maybe we start by asking new questions.
I was a bit blown away when Debie Thomas posed a question in her reflection:
“What if the king in the parable isn’t God at all?”
“What if the king embodies everything we’ve learned to associate with divine power and authority from watching other, all-too-human kings and rulers?

This king, after all, acts a whole lot more like Herod that the God we find in scripture.
You know, the one who went out and murdered infants because he felt his rule was threatened.
This king acts a whole lot more like the Roman Empire, which has subjugated the people of Israel.

Perhaps, Jesus tells the parable in precisely this way because he wants to challenge the assumptions we have about the kind of Kingdom he is bringing.
A parable, after all, shows us things that we don’t want to see.
Not about God, but about ourselves.
This parable comes on the heels in Matthew’s Gospel of his triumphant entry into Jerusalem.
There were some there, who wanted God’s reign to come with violence. They hoped for an overthrow of the Roman empire.
But there were also those like the religious leaders who believed that God’s reign was exclusive and filled with judgment. They sought to arrest and kill Jesus because he was not playing by their expectations and rules.
What is Jesus trying to get us to see?
If God is not the King… where do we find the Kingdom of Heaven in this parable?

In the parables we will explore over this next week in our daily devotion… Jesus tells us the Kingdom of Heaven is hidden. It is quiet. It is blossoming. It is unexpected. It is contagious. It is inclusive. It can’t be stopped.

When I hold those Kingdom of Heaven values up to this parable, I come to a surprising insight.
What if the Kingdom of Heaven is centered not on the powerful ruler, but the one person who has the courage to stand out?
The one who refuses to follow the rules of the party, the empire, the world.
As Debie Thomas puts it, “What if the ‘God figure’ in the parable is… the one brave guest who decides he’d rather be ‘bound hand and foot’ and cast into the outer darkness of Gethsemane, Calvary, the cross, and the grave…?”

After all, just prior to this parable, Jesus challenges the religious leaders quoting scripture to them:
“The stone that the builders rejected has become the cornerstone. The Lord has done this, and it’s amazing in our eyes.”

The Kingdom of Heaven is not a feast of terror where guests are forced to attend by the threat of sword and fire.
The Kingdom of Heaven is a feast of abundance that turns upside down our notions of power.
It is where tears are wiped away.
It embodies the kind of love the Apostle Paul speaks of in 1 Corinthians 13.
The Kingdom of Heaven is patient.
The Kingdom of Heaven is not easily angered.
The Kingdom of Heaven keeps no account of wrongs… not taking pleasure in wrong doing, but rejoicing in the truth.
The Kingdom of Heaven endures all things… even the threats and violence of the world.

In fact, it is the rejection by this world that lays the cornerstone for God’s will to be done among us.

Last week, we compared the values of the kingdoms of earth and the Kingdom of Heaven.
Today, we are invited to imagine ourselves as those invited guests…
Will we allow fear and intimidation to keep us in the world?
Or are we willing to take up our crosses and stand against the forces of evil, injustice, and oppression?
It was a decision that the disciples would have to make just a few days after Jesus shared these words.
Some of them betrayed Jesus and handed him over.
Some of them fled.
Some of them tried to fight.
Some of them denied who he was.
You see, standing against this world feels almost impossible.

Almost.
Because even our rejection cannot stop the Kingdom from taking hold.
Even our hesitation cannot stop the Spirit from moving.
God’s steadfast love endures forever.
And God is patiently waiting for us, with the banquet table always abundantly set, ready to swallow up death and fear and oppression forever.
All we have to do accept the invitation.

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.