DON’T GIVE UP by Jill Boyd

Jill Boyd                                                                               Year C, 29^th Sunday in Ordinary Time

Text: Luke: 18:1-8                                                                                                  October 20, 2013

¹ Then Jesus told them a parable about their need to pray always and not to lose heart. ² He said, "In a certain city there was a judge who neither feared God nor had respect for people. ³ In that city there was a widow who kept coming to him and saying, 'Grant me justice against my opponent.' ⁴ For a while he refused; but later he said to himself, 'Though I have no fear of God and no respect for anyone, ⁵ yet because this widow keeps bothering me, I will grant her justice, so that she may not wear me out by continually coming.'" ⁶ And the Lord said, "Listen to what the unjust judge says. ⁷ And will not God grant justice to those chosen ones who cry to God day and night? Will God delay long in helping them? ⁸ I tell you, God will quickly grant justice to them. And yet, when the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on earth?"

DON’T GIVE UP

It doesn’t take being around me for very long to realize that I have a passion for women who are older!

My childhood was peppered with interactions with great aunts, grandmothers and elderly neighbors who touched my life in meaningful ways.  Some of them were influential in my decision to go into social work, and for more than twenty years, women – most of whom were elderly widows – were the primary population with whom I worked and served.  My husband, David, used to tease me that I was a “magnet” for these women, because for whatever reason, I am drawn to them and they are drawn to me. J

Now don’t get me wrong, I also like interacting with men, and the young as well as the old, and every age in between! – but there is something about wise and older women that speaks to my heart, and I have come to understand it as part of my calling. So when I went to the Lectionary to select a passage for this sermon, I got hooked by the persistent widow and just wanted to spend some time with her!

Unfortunately, Jesus’ parable doesn’t tell us very much about her.

Aside from the fact that she is a widow, she has a grievance, and she wants that grievance rectified, we are told nothing about her or the injustice that’s been done to her.  We don’t even really know her age.  Assuming that she is old is just me projecting my own experiences onto the text, which is something they teach us in seminary not to do, but at least be aware of it when we do!

This widow could actually be a young woman whose beloved has died an untimely death and who is now in the position of having to raise her children by herself.  Perhaps what she seeks from the judge will help her provide them with food, clothing, and a roof over their head.

Or maybe she really is an older woman -- one who has lost not only her husband, but everyone else she loves and cares about in this world.  Her health and physical abilities may be declining as well, and perhaps what she seeks will help her hold on to her independence, which is one of the few things of value she still has left.

We don’t know specifics about this woman because neither Jesus nor Luke spells it out for us and none of the other gospels include this parable. But we do know from other historical sources what life was like for a widow in biblical times, and it was an extremely vulnerable existence.

Widows lacked social status and their material needs were great.  Jewish law held that when a man died, his property and possessions went to his sons or his brothers.  His widow could remain on the land with the new owner’s consent, but she was left destitute if he refused to provide for her. 

The widow in our parable has suffered an injustice, and knowing what we know about Jewish law, it’s safe to assume that it probably relates to property or money from which she is being denied access.  She seeks to have the injustice corrected, but to add to her troubles, she has no one to help her in her quest. That’s one of the things that bothers me about this scenario.  Doesn’t anyone notice her situation? Isn’t there someone who cares about her? It appears that she is on her own and that she has no one to advocate for her.

But that doesn’t stop her from pursuing justice for herself.  Time and time again, she approaches the unjust judge -- a man whose character is revealed to neither fear God nor respect other people. That poor woman!  This is not a man in whose hands I’d want to place my well-being -- he’s a wicked magistrate who abuses his power and position without a second thought about how God wants him to live or what is right for a fellow human being.

The unjust judge initially denies the widow’s request for justice, yet still, she persists.  Her conviction for what she believes she is entitled does not waiver -- she never gives up.  Her courage and persistence are admirable, and I suspect many of us would like to have more of these traits at times. I know I would…

The judge eventually gives in to the woman’s request, not because it is the ethical and just thing to do, but because he is thinking of his own best interests. He agrees to resolve her conflict because he wants her to stop bothering him!  That actually bothers me, but that’s a whole other issue for another sermon on another day!  Our focus today is on what the widow has to teach us, for she demonstrates that even when we are at our most vulnerable, our faith and our faithfulness matters.

It seems to me this is a primary point of the parable. Luke even tells us that in the opening line when he says it’s about the need to pray always and not lose heart. But what is the connection? Why prayer and not losing hope? Why not trust? Or “hang in there?” Why not believe?

I think that it’s because prayer is one thing we can do that directly impacts the endurance of our heart. We can see this in Jesus’ life. It’s one of the things he’s been teaching his disciples throughout their journey from Galilee to Jerusalem.

While healing and eating and socializing with all manner of people, he has been telling and showing them what it takes to live as faithful disciples. While confronting the Pharisees about their interpretations of the law, Jesus has been teaching a new way of understanding and a different way of life.  He has been teaching about the importance of prayer and how to pray -- while at the same time modeling a prayer life that takes place in both solitude and community.

Jesus knows the importance of prayer, especially in difficult times. He knows what he and his disciples will face when they arrive in Jerusalem. He will be arrested and crucified, and they will flee to hide in grief and fear. The disciples will not always act in faithful ways, yet Jesus will remain in prayer with God through it all. He will rise again from the dead, and his disciples will be amazed; and he will ascend to the heavens, leaving them to live faithful lives until he comes again.

Jesus knows their wait for his return will be long. He knows they will have trials and that they will become discouraged.  He prepares them as best he can, and he encourages them not to lose heart.  Jesus knows how devastating that can be…

            This is something that is poignantly illustrated in a movie I watched recently: To Kill a Mockingbird. You know, the 1962 classic starring Gregory Peck?

It’s the story of a southern lawyer named Atticus Finch, who agrees to defend Tom Robinson -- a black man accused of raping a young white woman. The time is the Great Depression, and the place is rural Alabama.

Tom is innocent, but because of racial inequalities and tensions of the time, there is no way his high-profile trial with an all white jury is going to be a fair one.

Atticus nevertheless takes the case, and he provides a compassionate and compelling defense that exposes the truth that the victim and her father are lying about Tom. The jury still finds him guilty. Atticus assures him this was not an unexpected verdict and that he will get to work right away on an appeal, but Tom loses heart. While the marshals are transporting him back to the jail, he attempts to escape and is shot and killed.

When Atticus hears the news, he is devastated.  “The last thing I told him,” he mourns, “was not to lose heart -- I’d ask for an appeal -- we had such a good chance -- we had more than a good chance… the last thing I told Tom was not to lose heart…”

            Tom Robinson had a family who loved him, and the black community supported him in his struggles.  Atticus believed in and cared for him and wanted to pursue justice on his behalf.  Tom wasn’t alone, he had people advocating for his life and for justice; but unlike the widow in our parable, Tom lost heart, and when he did, he lost his life.

There are many tragic aspects of this story, but this is one of the greatest, for when he lost heart, there were consequences, not only for him, but for those who loved him as well.

            Like the Tom and the persistent widow, we live in a world where justice doesn’t always prevail. We hear of incidents of it in the news and we experience it in our daily lives, and it saddens and angers and wears us down at times.

And while there are differences in their stories and outcomes, the widow and Tom both illustrate what Jesus teaches: our faith and our persistence are closely connected -- our faith and our persistence matter. They keep us connected to our source of hope and life, and they affirm our relationship with the one in whom we place our trust.

            Like Tom and the widow, we too live in an unjust world: a world in which our government leaders squabble like children in a sandbox; a world in which a neighboring county boasts the highest percentage of executions in the country – some of whom have been later proven innocent. We drive on highways full of speeding drivers, yet we are the one who gets pulled over. And we worship in a place where locks have been placed on kitchen cupboards….

            The world doesn’t always work the way we feel like it should. There are voices that yearn to be heard and desires that continue to go unmet.  We all know of parents who pray every day for their child – a child who is ill… or who is bullied… or who has chosen the wrong path. We are all faced with situations and relationships throughout the course of our lives that tempt us to lose faith and give up.

            But that’s where the persistent widow has something to teach us. She reminds us that despite everything, we can keep reaching out. We can reach out to God – we can hound God and trust God – and we can know that no matter what happens, we will never be alone.

We have an advocate in Jesus Christ who has promised to be with us to the end of the age. He calls us to pray always and never give up, and he assures us that the God of creation who loves and cares will never give up on us.

            So take heart! Stay in prayer!

God is with us and for us and will be forever!

In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit – one God who hears all prayers, now and forever. Amen.

13 October 13 “The Gratitude of the Foreigners” Luke 17:11 – 19

 In a community on the margins of society differences become unimportant when compared to a common purpose, that of surviving. Class distinctions evaporate, positions of influence become insignificant, education, wealth, stature no longer count. All are one and in trouble.

 The Reverend Maggi Dawn tells the story of when she worked in central London with an organization that reached out to people living on the streets. For most, all she could offer was food, clean clothes, and a listening ear. But occasionally she met someone who wanted to find a new life.

 She ran a halfway house with a simple rule allowing a few folks at a time to relearn how to live indoors. Such a change is not easy; a few who came to live with her actually managed the long, difficult process of reintegration. But more than half gave up and returned to their life on the streets.

 Living closely with people many consider untouchable she learned more than she gave. One thing she never forgot was the way living on the margins leads folks to reinvent their social values.

 In a little community under a viaduct near the famous Portobello Road market she met an aristocrat who had inherited a vast country estate and been educated at one of the finest universities. The pressure of that life lead him to abandon his fortune. Now he walked the streets with just a few possessions in a shopping cart. His high-brow accent was the only hint of his past.

His best friend on the street was a working-class man from the poorest area of Glasgow. He had dropped out of the education system in his early teens and come to London seeking his fortune.

 The likelihood of these men becoming close friends in normal society was nil. But in the community under the viaduct, the Scotsman and the English Lord found that their differences were immaterial compared to their common purpose – surviving on the streets.

   Luke tells us this morning about such a community, surviving on the streets, living on the margins. There is a leper colony on the edge of a village between Samaria and Galilee. The people who live there where cast out by the rest of society.  We can only imagine the life they came from, the new bonds they have formed.

 In the story, Jesus is approached by ten who, in their desperation, cry out to him for help.  They heard he was a healer, so they sought him out. When they found him they called to him, “Jesus, Master, have mercy on us!”

  Jesus immediately recognized their plight and their need. He knew the relief they were asking for and he said to them, “Go and show yourselves to the priests.” They did not hesitate. They were obedient, and as they went they were made clean. The leprosy left them.

 Looking at the ten and hearing their plea, I wonder why Jesus sent them to the priests. He knew he would heal them, so why the priests?

 In first century Israel priests were given special duties. One such duty was to determine who was “clean” and who was not. Those found “not clean” were separated from the community. A skin disease like leprosy would  bring such banishment.  

  Jesus knew the priests were necessary if these ten were to be found “clean” again and have their lives restored. So he sends them, and they knew why. They must have run down the road.

  On the way, they were healed. With unimaginable joy, standing before the priest, free from their disease, they were restored to their communal relationship.

 Adding to the story, these folks with leprosy lived near a village on the border between Galilee and Samaria. Galilee and Samaria were two communities historically divided. Jews considered all Samaritans ethnically unclean, on the margin of acceptable society folk, leper or not.

  The healing from their disease then becomes something larger than life, something exceeding their wildest dreams; it wiped away their cultural divide. It restored their social value.

  All healed, outwardly of their leprosy and inwardly of their racial divide we can only imagine their excitement. They had been away from their normal lives a long time. I expect they were dancing in the streets.

 Then a surprise of sorts. One lone member of the original ten returned to Jesus to give praise to God. The others apparently rejoined society as quickly as possible. In the process they showed their true allegiance, which was to the world and not to Jesus, the one who had freed them.

 Jesus refers to this one who returned to give praise to God as a foreigner, as a Samaritan. It may be the others were Galileans, we do not know.  It was only to this Samaritan that Jesus said, “Your faith has made you well.”

  Perhaps Jesus was speaking of a different type of wellness. Perhaps Jesus meant that deeply woven prejudices and stereotypes are a much more serious malady than even leprosy – that our hearts, our souls can be far sicker than our bodies. Perhaps Jesus was more upset with a society that would accept healed lepers from Galilee, yet reject a healed Samaritan.

 Luke’s message is one that challenges our usual sense of discipleship. If we are to be faithful followers of Jesus Christ then we are to be followers on Jesus’ terms.  Jesus’ terms include his expectations of faith and belief and trust, his gifts of forgiveness, love, salvation, his call to a life of living for others. Jesus’ terms require duty, obligation, and responsibility.

 If we live our life the way everyone else does, we have missed Jesus’ point and we are like the nine who could not wait to get back to societies norms. If we desire to be like the one who returned to give thanks, we must live like no one else lives. No one else except Jesus, that is. 

 Clearly, living this way, living like Christ, has significant consequences.

 When we abandon the priestly approval of this world for approval of Jesus Christ we must love everyone. Especially when folk are not like us. When they are different.  When they belonging over there, away from us where we separate them because of fear, anger, hurt, or prejudice. None of which is the will of God.

 God’s revealed will for us is that we love our neighbor, that we live to do justice, to love kindness, and to walk humbly with our God. God’s revealed will is that we live the ten commandments where we shall have no other god before God, we shall not make for ourselves an idol, we shall not make wrongful use of the name of the Lord our God, we shall remember the Sabbath day and keep it holy, we shall honor our father and our mother, we shall not murder, we shall not commit adultery, we shall not steal, we shall not bear false witness against our neighbor, we shall not covet our neighbor’s house, wife, male or female slave, or donkey, or anything that belongs to our neighbor.

  When we come to him, Jesus would ask, where are our boundaries to the will of God, boundaries that we resist crossing? Do we not love as we should? Do we not seek justice for all? Do we not extend Christian kindness as we ought? Do we, in our pride, not walk humbly with our God?

 The people with leprosy were sent by Jesus to see the priest. On their way they were healed from their disease. Their affliction that separated them from society, their boundary, was taken away. They were restored to the will of God, yet only one returned to give thanks and praise. Jesus asks him, where are the other nine? He could not answer. Perhaps they returned to Galilee and were welcomed home.

 Jesus offers nothing less. He welcomes us back home and then waits for us to show our faithfulness.

 Are we to be like the foreigner, the one truly on the edge of society, the outcast, the forlorn? He alone realized his complete freedom from leprosy and from his marginalization. He alone walked away from prejudice.

 His faith in the will of God made him well. It was God’s will that he accept Jesus’ invitation and by God’s will, he came to follow. Not to his earthly home, but to God’s kingdom home.

 That is what God does for us. When we have faith in his son, Jesus, and come to follow him, he heals those who accept him in all sorts of ways. He heals us here, on the inside, in our hearts and he heals us out here, in this earthly place, in what we say or do. 

We are therefore not like those other nine who wandered aimlessly, thinking the world will make them well. Our way is different. Our way is towards Jesus Christ because our faith has made us well. And because we are made well we will always live differently, we will always have that soft place in our hearts to include all people in the good news of the gospel.

 Ours is a common purpose filled with good news that tells us about a freedom where an aristocrat can be best friends with a man from the tenements, and they can live in the holy margin as followers of Jesus Christ.

 It is to that holy margin we pray we will live forever.

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever, Amen.  

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06 October 2013 “Increase Our Faith” Luke 17:5-10

  Supersize this, mega size that. We have been on this bigger is better kick for some time now. SUV’s, homes, office buildings, cars, planes, boats. You name it and we have been able to make it ginormous.

  The major of New York City recently tried one simple downsizing law taking ginormous away and was rebuffed. He tried to limit the size of a carbonated drink for health reasons and the courts got involved. Ginormous is alive and well in New York City.

 We Americans often equate ginormous with prosperity and success.

 A Time magazine survey taken last year found that a majority of the people asked agreed that God wants us to be financially prosperous. This view is part of what is called the “prosperity gospel” where more is good.

 The prosperity gospel is a religious belief found among “tens of thousands” of Christians centered on the notion that God provides material prosperity for those God favors. It teaches that Jesus blesses believers with material riches. But, it misses the point that Jesus himself never lived in prosperity.

 It seems from our gospel reading this morning even the apostles were not immune to these notions of more and bigger making us prosperous. An apostle said to Jesus, “Increase our faith?”

 Why not, we may ask. We have mega sized everything else; we preach or desire to preach and live a prosperity gospel. Why not supersize our faith? Is the apostle to think we can simply ask Jesus to mega size our faith and he will?

  Simply answered, Jesus will not. Jesus is opposed to any increasing or mega sizing of faith this way. As a matter of fact, he seems to say that the opposite of an increase is what we should ask for. Instead Jesus says, smaller is better; even faith as small as a mustard seed is better.

 Bigger, it seems, creates the desire for even bigger. The mustard seed, on the other hand, grows from a small seed to a proportion larger than imaginable. Faith the size of such a seed will therefore grow to a proportion out of this world. Isn’t that the point?

 Growth out of this world is one promise of our Christian faith. It is partnered with an amazing wonder at the mystery of God’s grace that will produce such abundance in the first place. Asking for faith the size of a mustard seed is what we should be praying for.

  So Jesus offers his help and asks, “Who among you would say to your slave who has just come in from plowing or tending sheep in the field, come here at once and take your place at the table?”

 Jesus knew his apostles would understand the economics of work. Be it with a hired hand, a servant, or a slave. That person is doing what they are being paid or obligated to do and they are not finished until they are finished.

For their labor they receive room and board, health insurance, vacation time, sick leave, stuff like that. They are compensated for their work. When the work is done, then feasting begins. The worker in this parable is to do exactly what is expected, no less, no more. They do not expect special treatment and none is given.

 We also have in the parable the image of a laborer who does only the minimum required. Actually, they might even have an attitude thrown in. They may have resented having to do even the minimum of work. The land owner seems to sense this attitude and says, ‘No resting now. Prepare my supper, put on you apron, serve me. You will get no special treatment from me.”

 This may seem to be a harsh answer to the apostle’s question.  We may have liked the request, “Lord, increase my faith.” Like them, we know Jesus has the power to do amazing things. We know about his miracles, turning water into wine, feeding thousands from just a little food, healing the sick, raising the dead. We have heard him say time and time again “Your faith has made you well.” So, why not? Jesus, increase our faith. Then we too will have miracles in our lives.

 But, Jesus senses we may be expecting special treatment. He senses we may expect a short cut. He senses we may have an attitude. As one who himself serves, Jesus wants us to remember, from the very beginning there were no short cuts. Our faith is about full relationships and a full commitment.

 The relationship part may seem easy enough. To be in a relationship with Jesus is to know his story, to know his teaching, to heed his call to come and follow him. It is to accept Jesus Christ as Lord and Savior and to spend time with him in prayer and study and worship and service. It is to love him.

 But what about the commitment part? What might that mean and cost, and for how long. How long will we be required to be of service to our Lord? How long are we to be committed? Surely not forever! Surely there is a short cut. Let’s just ask.

 Jesus tells us about the servant to make sure we understand that asking for short cuts is not how we increase our faith. No, we do not just show up on Sundays and wait to be served. Hello my name is Jesus and I will be your server today. Can I start you off with an appetizer, an increase in your faith?

 No, no appetizers here. Jesus does not wait on us. Jesus does not owe us faith, or grace, or love, or anything. When we are in a relationship where we feel we are owed something we are not really in a faithful relationship are we? A faithful relationship requires a great degree of selflessness. We become smaller than our largely ego driven selves in a successful relationship, not larger.

 When we grudgingly go through the motions in a relationship we become calculating and wonder how we can get the upper hand. I believe Jesus wants us to know, this is not the sort of relationship we will have in the Kingdom. To be sure, God’s children aim to do God’ will. But they do it with a gladness of heart, in a spirit of love, and gratitude.

 Do not be confused, Jesus is not advocating for a smaller faith, just a different faith, one not of this world. He asks, “Who among you if he has a servant plowing or tending sheep, will say to him when he comes in from the field, come at once and recline at table. We will not say this to the one working for us. His reward will be a wage, an earned wage. Will he not rather say to him, prepare my supper, and dress up properly so you can wait on me until I finish eating and drinking.” That is the way of this world.

But Jesus has a special invitation for us for a different world. He invites us to his table, this table. He says, “Come to me you who are weary and heavy laden. Come and recline with me at table.”

 It is to this table, this kingdom table that we are invited. Where we will find his body and his blood shed for us for the remission of our sins. Our reward is no wage. Our reward is to spend our time with Jesus in the heavenly kingdom. Both here and there.

 Oh, be sure, Jesus will be the one tending to us at table. He will be the role model for us. He will be the role model of faithful servant hood. He will be the role model that teaches us how we are to be as servants to God and to one another. The model for how we are to act, how we are to live, how we are to have our being in relationship with Jesus.

 But remember, there is no shortcut to the Lord’s Table. Jesus is the servant whose example and gracious relationship with his followers captures and upholds our service. Our service is to him as Lord.

 Following Christ, therefore, gives us authority to serve as he served, not to lord over others. Our truth this morning is as believers and followers of Jesus Christ there is no need for desperate quests for increased faith.

 But there will be a journey of sorts. It will be a life long journey for a different faith. A faith where God’s spirit works through us making all things possible. A faith sustained right here in this church family. Here where we can be confident in the abiding presence of the Holy Spirit and here where the kingdom of our Lord is growing.

  Kaye Gibbon is a writer who tells the story of four generations of women who have learned the lessons of life.  The truth they all understand is that life deals us a different hand than we had hope for. Less than we might think we deserve. So by grace alone we must learn to live with diminished expectations and compromised dreams.

 Yet, we discover that life is found in whatever gifts are given. In acts of kindness we had no right to expect, in lasting friendships, in causes undertaken for no reason other than they are right and good, or in helping another that was not undertaken for reward.  These are the places real joy and real fullness and real satisfaction is grounded.

  For in this life we are grounded and blessed by the grace of God. Then as Christ Jesus walks with us, strengthening each of us in our own ways with increased faith, we become the salt for the earth, the light on the hill, the seed in the world for hope and joy.

 We become the mustard seed, the mighty servant of the Lord, bringing shalom; peace and wholeness, the increase that is beyond this world.

 A ginormous increase like no other. Supersize that!

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever, Amen.  

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22 September 2013 “A New Way of Life” Luke 16:1-13

 I know you have heard this, but I love to tell these stories.  

 Three contractors were touring the White House the same day, one from New York, another from Missouri, and a third from Florida. At the end of the tour, the guide asked them if they would like to bid on a project at the White House. “Of course, they replied in unison.”

 “We need one of the rear fences redone,” said the guide. “Why don’t the three of you each look at it and give me a bid.”

 The contractor from Florida got out his tape measure and pencil, and after examining the project said he could do it for $900. “That’s $400 in materials, $400 for my crew, and $100 profit for me.”

 The contractor from Missouri took the tape measure, pulled out a pad and pencil and came up with a $700 bid. “That’s $300 in materials, $300 for my crew, and a $100 profit for me.”

  Without hesitation, the New York contractor said, “I’ll do the job for $2,700.” “$2,700” exclaimed the guide. “You hardly even looked at the fence. How did you come up with that figure?”

 “It’s easy,” said the New York contractor. “$1,000 for me, $1,000 for you, and we hire the guy from Missouri to do the work.”

 The contractor from New York was shrewd, to use Luke’s terminology. Like him, Luke’s manager has what some would call astute business sense. He does not hesitate to devise a shrewd plan to save his future.  Unemotionally, yet rationally, he knows he is guilty. He squandered the rich man’s property. So he devises a quick plan to regain his place in the world and it seems to work

 I once applied for a job I did not really want. I applied to protect the status quo from another applicant I knew all too well. I felt that person did not have the right sensitivity for the position. The person was known to have a heavy hand and I felt the position needed a different approach.  Can you tell we did not always get along?

 As you might expect, I did not get the job. The person hired, that other person, was the better person given the changing make-up of the work place. We did not always agree on strategies after that, but we did manage to be civil and actually developed a new level of appreciation for one another.

 My relationship with that person soon became more important than my perceived effects on the workplace.  A similar importance is at work in this morning’s parable.

  Faced with the possibility of losing his position, the manager knew he needed a plan to secure his future. He had an immediate instinct to mobilize his resources, to recruit his master’s debtors who might eventually become his only friends.

 He enlisted them by drastically reducing their debt, thereby rallying them to a broader common good. His, theirs, and eventually, the rich mans.

 If we misinterpret Luke’s parable we may think Jesus is telling us that we should become worldly schemers. That is not the case. Jesus wants his disciples to look ahead, to mobilize our greatest resource and restore the one relationship that will make a difference in our lives, our relationship with God. That relationship is what is most important in our lives.

 Admittedly, our relationship with God is at times tattered and at times aloof. We have been entrusted with a great deal of responsibility as a disciple of Jesus Christ. We are to be faithful and obedient. We are to work for peace and justice. We are to feed the hungry and not judge our enemies.

 But, we have also received a lot. We have unearned blessings. We have grace from God. We have hope beyond ourselves. We have many gifts from God. Yet, we often mismanage them.

 In our mismanagement, God judges us. In that judgment we discover our shortcomings and, most distressingly, we feel God’s disappointment. We have separated ourselves from God by our thought or deed. We have been blinded by our own prejudices for the ways we think others should be and we have not seen them as children of God. We have judged others by our own set of rules.

 Despite our weakest selves, Jesus offers us hope. Again and again, Jesus offers us hope in his generous charity. For in Jesus Christ it is never too late for healing, for restoration.

 Restoration, we read in Luke’s gospel, is not only possible for us, it is highly probable. Rallying our resources is the key.

Perhaps before we even know we are hanging out too far and living our life away from God, God is mobilizing God’s eternal hope for us. God’s greatest resource for this mobilization to hope is his son Jesus Christ.

 Our greatest act of faith is to rally with Jesus to create a life rich in relationship with God and with one another in our world here on this little corner we call Genesis Presbyterian Church.

 In God’s goodness and grace, God has never stopped providing for us. We know that. God sent his son. Jesus came freely to restore our broken relationship. God’s grace makes us right with God. And through the faith we have, given to us by God’s love, we are made right with God.

  Neither the rich man nor Jesus is praising the manager for being a crook or a shady dealer. No, they praise him for his shrewdness, for the fact that he looks ahead and restores relationships for a future life.

 There is a call here for us to be at the labor of mobilizing our resources for faithful living. It is a call for us to know, at our core, what we need to do with our future. The future for our lives, our families, and this church. It is a call to rally those gifts, those resources, those passions for service God has given us that in our decision making we might above all else glorify God.

 Our manager this morning was preparing for his future, his life after. At some point we too see the need to prepare for our future, our life after. How might we begin that preparation? How are we to get ready for the future? The one that begins tomorrow and the one that never ends.

 Perhaps the familiar story of a fellow named Bob will help.

 Bob heard of a man who lost his job suddenly and unfairly. He and his wife began to pray for the man.

 One night Bob woke unable to sleep. A thought kept going through his mind: Give this man 10% of your wages. When Bob told his wife about his thought, they prayed about it and in the end decided that was what God wanted them to do.

 So Bob went to the unemployed man’s house and told him: “You do not know me, but God knows us both. This will seem weird to you, but here is a check for 10% of my wages. I will send you a check each payday for this same 10% until you find work again.”

 Many feel we are like Bob. Here at Genesis Presbyterian Church we serve those who struggled to find a safe place to worship, or have school, or practice for musicals. Many feel our mission and ministry as God’s church has come to life in our service to these people we may not know.

 Can we continue to give such a benevolent gift to them and to God? Can we continue to find a percentage of ourselves, from the places we are most protective, and give it to God?

 Most likely it is that percentage we hold on to in any relationship that keeps us from exposing too much love. Too much love that, if not held back, will make us vulnerable to being hurt deeply.

  We know Jesus did not hold back his love for others or his desire for a servant relationship and we know how deeply he was hurt. But, he lived his father’s will, not his own, and he lived to rejoice in heaven for such a life.

 This morning, God is waiting to hear our plan. Our plan for the future of our life here as God’ church. Our plan to continue God’s mission and ministry of serving those whom God brings to our campus. Our plan as we ask ourselves if we are truly doing all we can to serve all we can. God is waiting to hear our plan; our plan and God’s plan in one enduring relationship.

   Time and faith and our trust in God will tell, of course. For whoever is faithful in a very little is faithful also in much. 

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever, Amen.  

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15 September 2013 “Being Found” Luke 15:1-10

 We have all lived through it. We have struggled and worried and paced throughout the house. Where did I leave my glasses? Where did I have my purse? I have lost it. I cannot find it.

 In a favorite comic strip we have on our refrigerator, dad is looking for those lost glasses and he has several pair pushed back on his head. Mom is looking for that lost purse and it is there on her arm. The son proclaims, “you could not write stuff this weird.”  Yet, somehow, we live through it.

 We have also lived through another summer. We have struggled and worried and paced throughout the house. Where is our rain? Where are our cool days and nights? We have lost our rain forever. We cannot find a cool place to catch our breath from the heat.

 Then, they came. The rains! They found us mercifully just in time. And the mornings, they are a bit cooler with the wind seeming to come from the north. This is merciful news. But we want more. We want to know; now what? The drought is still around us. It is still 100 degrees some days. Now what?

  Our “now what” question seems to be the lingering truth we struggle with. When times are lean we ask, now what. When times are fat we ask, now what. I suppose we are seldom happy.

 This morning we heard the familiar stories of the lost sheep and a lost coin. Their owners knew what to do about their “now what” question just as surely as we do. When we feel lost or have lost something of value we do what Jesus said we should do. We “go after” that which is lost.

  It is as if we have a built in universal response for caring for what we consider to be of value. We desire it, we cherish it, we take care of it and when it needs us we fix it, or we replace it. If it is lost, why, we look for it with an energy from deep within, especially where our faith, our values, our resources, or our loved ones are concerned. We go after our things.

 From Jeremiah we read God was not happy with the chosen folk. God was not pleased with the Israelites. They were being foolish again. They were acting like immature children with no understanding. They were showing the world their skill in doing evil.

 The earth was filled with waste and void. There was no light in the heavens, the mountains were quaking, the fruitful land was a desert, and the cities were in ruins. The Lord had fierce anger in himself and said the earth shall mourn, and the heavens above will grow dark.

 Timothy offers a word of hope in the midst of this dark. Though we have been blasphemers, persecutors, and men and women of violence, Jesus, our Jesus, has judged us as being faithful. He has even appointed us to his service. How can this be? Someone thinks we are faithful! You could not write something this weird.

 In the midst of this new revelation we hear ourselves asking, “Now what.”  But this time we are different. This time we have a new motivation behind our “now what.” We are judged faithful and we are selected to Christ’s service and how we respond matters.

 Luke’s lost souls, once they realized what they had found called together friends and neighbors saying to them, “Rejoice with me.” Rejoice. For I have found my way from being lost to being found and needed and I say to you, it is time to rejoice.

 Yet, even after such a proclamation and even when we are living a rejoice-filled life, we wake to our circumstance and ask, “What now.” What do we do when the rejoicing dies down and we continue to find that more and more days feel like Monday.

 I know Monday is just another day. Yet, it seems it stands for something more sinister. Like having to work and toil for something or someone so distant from our sense of service to God!

 Jesus responded to having to go work for any figure of dominance and injustice with his resurrection. That is what Jesus did next. On his Monday Jesus rose to a new life, an eternal life. There was joy in the presence of the angels of God in all of the heavens at the coming of such a new life.

Must we then consider the possibility that we too must have a death and resurrection of sorts? Be lost first, acknowledging the truthful pain of being lost. Then release our fears, our trembling, our trepidation to be found, and finally, blessedly, be risen to a new life. Certainly, that is what believers do isn’t it? That is what we Christian believers want to do.

 We admit our sin because it is so obvious to us. We acknowledge we are found and saved, for our forgiveness and our salvation are also obvious. They are in the blessings of God’s grace felt and seen and known in our lives.

 Feeling God’s love and God’s grace, we too seek after the resurrection in our lives. We too seek after the resurrection that will create for us a joy with the simplest beauty and power of the rising of the sun each and every morning.

 Especially on Monday like Mondays. For then we have the chance to declare again and again to God and the world our faith, our belief, and our intention to live in relationship with Christ. For then we will freely and longingly look for others who have been lost like us. Where we will tell them they have been found in the good news of Jesus Christ.

 That is what we Christians do. We reach out to our fallen sisters and brothers and find them for Christ. Is that not what Jesus did for us?

  At the end of “A Tale of Two Cities” by Charles Dickens, there is an incredibly moving scene. The carts are rumbling through the crowded streets of Paris on the way to the guillotine. In one of the carts are two prisoners: a brave man who had once lost his soul but found it again and was now giving his life for a friend, and beside him a girl – little more than a child. She had seen him in prison and seen the gentleness and courage of his face. “If I may ride with you,” she asked, thinking of that last frightening journey, “Will you let me hold your hand? I am not afraid, but I am little and weak, and it will give me more courage.”

 So as they rode together now, her hand was in his; and even when they had reached the place of execution, there was no fear at all in her eyes. She looked at the quiet , composed face of the man beside her and said, “I think you were sent to me by Heaven.”

 What then do we, here to flounder along in the cart of life, with no apparent hand to hold, do now. What do we do with this Jesus who tugs so on us?

 You all know David Johnson from seminary. He suggests we should first consider three questions as we try and understand what to do next with this Jesus who has found his way into our lives. David’s advice, as you would expect, is so very practical.

 Ask, “What are my strengths?” “What do I care about?” And, “Who is my God?”

 In considering strengths consider Peter, in the Book of Acts, who met an unnamed and lame beggar who was asking for money. Peter said to him, “I have no silver or gold, but I give you what I have; in the name of Jesus Christ, walk.”

 That is our great strength. To give what we have. As David says, “If we have the courage to say ‘I give what I have,’ and then really give it, that will be the healing of the world.”

 Often people are amazed at our generosity. You all have experienced the good it feels to help another with your time, your money, a warm meal, a hand with a chore, a visit just at the right time. Sure, these things make a difference, but it is this giving from the heart that really matters.

 We will eventually have all our stuff given away. It is true, we cannot take it with us. But it is the giving nature of our hearts that the world will always remember.

 What then do you care about? This is another way of asking, “What are you going to do with your strengths, your abilities, your passions.” Like the church, we do not exist to survive. We exist to serve. You, each of you, exist to serve God and to serve one another.

 Your service has “parable” like power. You take on world hunger when you provide food for one person or one family who is hungry. You take on the world’s tendency towards discrimination and hate when you allow one person into your life regardless of color, religion, sexual orientation, their status in society, or their separation from society.

 We all have these passions for helping certain kinds of folks and being especially tender hearted to certain circumstances people find themselves in and we reach out to them. From our passion God does some of God’s best work.

 Finally, what God do you serve? This may be the hardest question of all. David reminds us, “The God we serve is not simply the Almighty. The God we serve is the Almighty-who-works gently; the Almighty-in-hiddenness; the One who triumphs through a cross instead of an army; the One who cares for the sparrow and the hairs on your head and the beggar at your gates; the One who overcomes giants with a child’s sling; the One who celebrates mercy rather than power, and justice rather than wealth.

 We serve the God who sent disciples out with nothing, to teach them that they lacked nothing; the God who fed thousands of people with a few morsels of food, to teach us that we do not live by bread alone.

 In serving this God we might experience delay, but we will never experience defeat. We might be disappointed, but only when we discover that we have been hoping for the wrong things. We might be sent to places we did not intend to go, and we might be doing things we did not think we could do, using that which we did not know we had.”

 This is the God we serve. This is the one sent to us by Heaven. This is Jesus, our Messiah, the one the Pharisees and scribes were grumbling about and saying, “This fellow welcomes sinners and eats with them.”  Surely we hope Jesus is talking about us! We do not have the world market cornered with our sins. But, we do have a burning desire to be found.

 The Methodist pastor William Willimon has said, “Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners. It does not say that Jesus came to reward all the good church people for sitting through boring, pointless sermons. It does not say that Jesus came to pay tribute to all those who have never broken a commandment and feel good about it.”

 No, Jesus came into our world to save us and his effort was a success. With our repentance and an “Amen” on our lips we sinners do what God has placed in our hearts to do, we rejoice. We rejoice and we invite the world to rejoice with us. For someone has written the weirdest thing, “This fellow welcomes sinners” and there is eternal joy on earth, and in heaven, and in our heart and very being.

 Jesus Christ has written about our life. We are found. Rejoice. The great joy in heaven has found its way here. Rejoice.

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever, Amen.             091513.gpc

08 September 2013 “Same God” Luke 14:25-33

  It seems impossible, in the face of so many negatives, to find an encouraging word in this morning’s gospel. If we do not hate, if we do not carry our cross, if we do not give up all our possessions. These are hard words to hear for any who desire to be a disciple of Jesus Christ because we know we hate, we seldom carry our cross, and we certainly hang on to our possessions.

 It seems even more impossible to hear these words in the light of any hope we may have for our lives. In the light of our deep hunger for joy.

 One who offers a glimpse is the mystic, Julian of Norwich. She may well have been the Christian world’s eternal optimist. Her words of hope resonate with us; “All will be well. And all will be well. And all manner of things will be well.” She echo’s the prophet Jeremiah (7:23) who said, “Obey my voice, and I will be your God, and you shall be my people, and walk only in the way that I command you, so that it may be well with you.”

 The author Annie Dillard also sees hope . In her book, “The Writing Life,” she challenges us to define our desires for well-being. She asks, “Why are we reading (books), if not in hope of  beauty laid bare, life heightened and its deepest mystery probed? Why are we reading, if not in hope that the writer will magnify and dramatize our days, will illuminate and inspire us with wisdom, courage, and the possibility of meaningfulness, and will press upon our minds the deepest mysteries, so we may feel again their majesty and power? What do we ever know that is higher than that power which, from time to time, seizes our lives, and reveals us startlingly to ourselves as creatures set down here bewildered? Why does death so catch us by surprise, and why love? We will and always want waking. We should amass half dressed in long lines like tribesmen and shake gourds at each other, to wake up; instead we watch television and miss the show.”

There are those moments in a book when the author reveals a truth and names it. That revealing and naming touches us so deeply we find ourselves laughing out loud, or welling up with a tear because we hear for the first time the answer to our deepest longing to know and realize there is a name for what we had hoped.

 Such is our need this morning. We have read in Luke disturbing words that smother our deepest longings. It seems there is no hope in these words. Jesus shatters us with these stabbing blows, “Whoever does not hate your family, you cannot be my disciple . . . whoever does not carry your own cross, you cannot be my disciple . . . whoever does not give up all your possessions, you cannot be my disciple.”

 That just about settles it. Perhaps our only hope now is to just be left alone. Perhaps there is no reason at all to believe. To name truth using these words is not what we have ever hoped for. Why would any of us want to follow such a person making such claims?

 I believe, even given these words about hate and crosses and giving up stuff, there is reason to believe and to follow and I think you feel the same way. Just as Julian said, we do hunger that “all will be well.” We do hope “all will be well.” we do long for the truth that in our lives, “all manner of things will be well.”

 Hoping and wondering about the truth, even in our doubt, seems to go hand in hand with being a Christian at times. Near the end of Luke’s gospel even the apostles seemed to be in doubt.

 In chapter twenty-four, after the resurrection, Jesus stood among the disciples and spoke to them, “Peace be with you.” And he showed them his hands and his feet. Then, in verse forty one, “while in their joy, they were disbelieving and still wondering . . .”

 But, there is a reason to believe. Even in our disbelief and wondering our hunger for joy will not go away. Our hunger that “all will be well” does not diminish. Our hunger for God is real and primal.

  Where then, in this morning’s harshness, is there hope for that hunger, hope for that joy?

 Jesus is speaking to us about being in a loving relationship with God. A loving relationship, by its nature, requires total commitment to the other. Such a commitment demands a lot from us. Loving Jesus actually takes more than a lot. It takes everything we have.

 So, what does Jesus mean when he says, “Whoever does not hate your family . . . cannot be my disciple?” Consider how powerfully at odds this word hate is with God’s commandment that we love one another. Especially our neighbor as ourselves. Especially our enemy. We are taught to have faith, hope and love. We are taught the greatest of these is love. Loving others more than we love God does not create discipleship in us.

 We are, as believers, to love simply, yet powerfully. We are to even love the rascals in our lives. Or, perhaps, especially the rascal. The one who disappoints, the one who aggravates, the one we grind our teeth over, the one we walk away from. We are to love our families too. Only, we are to love all these a bit less than we love God.

 In Matthew 10:37 Jesus says, “whoever loves father and mother, or son or daughter, more than me is not worthy of me.” Here is the thing, Jesus does not say, “Do not love your father and mother, or son or daughter.” He says, if you love these folks, these things, “more than me” you are not worthy of me. If we consider our word “hate” as being in this context, as a degree of love we will understand Jesus.

 We love our grandmother more than we love pecan pie, for example. We love our dog or cat more than we love chocolate. Well, perhaps that one is in doubt. But you understand. Love does not hold equal meaning and feeling.

 What then does Jesus mean when he says, “Whoever does not carry your own cross, cannot be my disciple.”  This phrase is in the present tense. Here and now, we are to carry our daily responsibilities, pick up our problems, our burdens and fears, our crosses. We are to live with the reality of life and take risks.

 Embracing life and accepting our responsibilities requires we take chances. God does not want us to take those chances alone. We should pick up those crosses and follow along with Jesus.

 What may it then mean,” whoever does not give up all your possessions cannot be my disciple.” Here is a challenge to each of us to prioritize our life. To be loyal to God first, and to persevere in that loyalty. To know the difference between giving lip service to following Jesus and actually being a disciple of Jesus means we set everything else aside.

 Now, we need not set everything on the curb for the trash. But, we do not set everything on a pedestal either. The end game for us is to follow Jesus and not be distracted by all our distractions.

 The clear message this morning is this, our relationship with God needs to come first in our lives. If family or work or possessions come first, at the exclusion of God, we are living lives worshiping things other than God. That does not mean we are not to love and adore our relationships. It does mean we are to place God first in our lives.

 It may still be difficult to hear in these words a reason to believe in God. But believe we must. For the seed of a hunger that all will be well and all will know joy and live a life of amazement has been planted in each of us by our creator.

 We believe because if what Jesus taught is true, then joy and hope and forgiveness and salvation and life everlasting is at the core of our creation.

 John Ortberg has written, “If Jesus is right, joy was at the beginning. Joy was challenged in the middle. And joy will be restored in the end.”

 The wisdom of the author G. K. Chesterton creates a picture of such a God and the future in store for God’s creation that opens us to the possibility of a goodness that we can only hope will be true. It closes with a picture of Jesus and the hope for joy that should sustain us as we struggle to believe we too can be a disciple of Jesus Christ.

  To make his point, Chesterton tells the story of a child, any child, even the child in us, who has been sick, and our fear is we might lose that child, even our own life. Imagine that the doctors discover the truth, a simple operation will ensure life, will bring healing and joy.

 But, for a five year old like us this truth does not really take away our fear. What if the doctor is wrong? Won’t the operation hurt a lot? What if I never get well? My illness may come back. It has been with me so long.

 With this truth before us we cannot lightly dismiss the real fear our child has. We must offer compassion and understanding and love and  give assurance that all will be well.

 At the same time, our hearts are hoping with anticipation for joy. We want to believe, all will be well, that all manner of things will be well. Inside we are able to laugh and dance with the sheer truth of the joy that awaits us. An operation, a simple operation, and all will be well.

 This is the same truth that Jesus knows about. Jesus knows what awaits us when we become his disciple. We will be healed of our human afflictions, from sin, from our desperate struggle to survive.

 For God has a place for us in God’s kingdom. Jesus has come to offer compassion and understanding and love and gives us assurance that if we will love him even more than we love our families, and if we will carry our daily burdens, and if we will allow our possession to be less important than he is in our lives, all will be well. We who believe know this. Ultimately, all will be well!

 Chesterton writes, “Joy, which was the small desire of the pagan, is the gigantic secret of the Christian. And as I close this chaotic volume I open again the strange small book from which all Christianity came; and I am again haunted by a kind of confirmation. The tremendous figure which fills the gospel’s towers in this respect above all the thinkers who ever thought themselves tall. His suffering was natural, almost casual. He never concealed his tears; he showed them plainly on His open face. Yet, He concealed something.

 He never restrained anger. Yet, He restrained something. I say it with reverence; there was in that shattering personality a thread that must be called shyness. There was something that He hid from all (humanity) when He went up a mountain to pray. There was something he covered constantly by abrupt silence or passionate isolation. There was some one thing that was too great for God to show us when God walked upon our earth; and I have sometimes fancied that it was His mirth, His sheer joy.”

 Jesus knew, all will be well, and because he knew, all will be well. And, with God’s grace and God’s assurance, all manner of things will be well.

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever, Amen.  

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01 September 2013 “Beggars All” Luke 14:1, 7-14

 From most accounts, the kids and the teachers and the parents survived the first week of school. Like many of you, being responsible parents and grandparents we had to touch base. Part of touching base for me leads to the inevitable twenty questions.

 In our family I have a severe reputation for asking a lot of questions and I especially love the first week of school. It tees the questions up so easily.

 What is your teacher’s name? Are they nice? How are the other kids? Any homework yet? What about recess? What about the lunchroom? Think you’ll go back next week? You know, the usual inquisition.

 Typically my chance for the quiz comes around a meal. Meal gatherings offer the perfect setting for a good talk. The audience is captured because they are hungry and want to eat. It is actually a grand tradition in many families’ or gathering of friends. To be together is fun and, as a parent, or grandparent, or interested party, or even for a nosey neighbor, the table is an ideal place to find out about stuff.

 In Luke’s gospel, Jesus gathered for a meal at the house of a leader of the Pharisees. What struck me about the goings on there was the telling behavior of the guests. They wanted to find out about Jesus and they were watching him very closely. Almost too closely.

 Jesus had gone there for a social time, a gathering on the Sabbath to break bread, and the others were riveted by his presence and could not keep their eyes off him. He too had a severe reputation. Perhaps they had twenty questions to ask but lacked the nerve to ask even one. So they stole glances, keeping one eye in his direction as they ate and listened.

 We also know there was more at stake. People were talking about Jesus and the leaders felt threatened by his popularity and his larger threat to their power. So they invited him to dinner to check him out, to watch him closely. Of course, getting too close can be a dangerous  game. One which two can play.

 You may remember a post I read on Facebook from a newly married pastor. She confessed to the world, which is what you do when you make a post on Facebook, “Apparently I snore. Badly.” The discovery created a response from her new spouse that she reported went something like, “Alice, please turn over, you are going to make me deaf.”

 Our course, you can imagine the helpful advice she received from other Facebook friends. My favorite was from one who was enjoying this nuptial blockbuster entirely too much. She offered, “A sweet husband would say, sweet heart, yours is a rhinoceros-like purring.” A rhinoceros-like purring. Funny, but the gloves are off at this point. Being close is a dangerous game.

  Jesus is not immune to this game. There are off the chart responses when folks watch his life too closely. Throughout scripture, Jesus was watched very closely and some folks screamed and shouted for his life when he performed miracles, healed the sick, raised the dead, or broke the sacred law.

 This morning the leading Pharisees are watching Jesus so they might discover grounds for a charge against him. For his part, Jesus is not intimidated. Certainly he knew what they were up to. He knew it when he accepted the dinner invitation for he knew their true motivation. Ever confident, Jesus waited for his chance, “Oh, you want to watch me do you? Well, I’m watching you just as intently.”

 What Jesus saw was how guests were positioning themselves for the places of honor at the tables. They must have been falling all over one another to get that place up front, to sit as close to the leader of the Pharisees as possible. To find out about Jesus and what the bosses would do about him.

  Jesus also knows they want more. They are shamelessly seeking to be noticed. To be noticed as someone of importance.

 Just as shamelessly, they knew the game they played. They knew they would have to pay back their host for their preferential seating. This is how the politics worked. You scratch my back and I will scratch yours. You recognize me with a place of honor at your house and I will repay you by recognizing you with a similar place of honor at my house.

 So, there was high drama and there was a new player to contend with. Who is this Jesus and what is he up to? How can I sit closest to the action. Whose political back do I have to scratch to play? They were adept at the repeated payment and repayment scheme in that hall of power and at the head of any table in the region.

 Jesus, for his part, has all the evidence he needs to turn the tables and find fault with them. They are boldly transparent as they compromise again and again their own righteous indignation. They expose themselves undeniably as being on the wrong side of God and God’s grace and even God’s law. To be righteous is to be on the right side of God’s kingdom and they were anything but righteous.

 As these musical chairs game players exalt themselves they doom themselves to entrapment into their own vicious cycle of repayment. One that traps them in this world’s power games and loses for them any hope for God’s righteous salvation.

 I wonder if we too are trapping ourselves in some self-righteous way. We know Jesus is watching. What will he discover about us? What will his accusation be against us? Are we seeking honors, or attention for our deeds? Are we inviting the in-crowd into our lives so we will be seen with the popular kids?

 Jesus will have none of this. He has a completely different way for us to consider being righteous. Being righteous in his eyes that is. For him, we should be inviting into our lives the poor. The poor in fact and in spirit. The homeless. Homeless in station and place. Those down and out who have lost their way. Those with no political status. Folks not like us, in color or creed, gender or gender orientation, age or agelessness. Folks with a need for a safe place, like those living out their sense of ministry on our campus

 Are these the groups Jesus would have us be involved with? Are these the sort of people who are to become our friendship groups? Well, apparently so!

 If we insist on living the banquet life, we lose any real gain. If on the other hand we live in humility, living a life of service to others without thoughts of personal gain or comfort or possible return on our investment, then we will be rewarded as a righteous one.

  Humility seems so counterintuitive to our modern life. It is certainly the opposite of pride. Augustine considered pride the most basic sin, which he felt stood at the root of the fall.

  Many theologians see pride as the root of all sin. By pride they mean a defiant rejection of limitations and humanities proper place and, thus, our self-elevation into the divine.

 In the theology of Saint Paul, pride is the opposite of faith, since faith is the acknowledgment that one’s own life is a fragile gift. There is, therefore, no basis for boasting before God.

 We easily stand convicted, like those guests at dinner, based upon how we live our lives. For how we live our lives is what God finally sees. If our faith lies in something or someone, if our trust is grounded in something or someone, if our life is evident in something or someone, and that something or someone is not God, we may be asked to make room and move to the lowest place.

  Christianity is a faith that, inspired by the example of Jesus Christ, cultivates dependency and admission of need for a higher place. The Christian life is training in the art of dependency. Dependency on God’s grace. Dependency on that grace that brought a human, Jesus, so we might understand how we are to live as children of God.

  

 This is the faithful nature, our dependency on him, that Jesus wants to see from us when he watches us. This is the way a child of God is that first day of school. For then we can answer God’s twenty questions in a way that is pleasing to God. In a way that glorifies God.

 It is true, we are all beginners as followers of Jesus Christ. Every day we begin anew with our faith, learning with the newest newcomer, being led like the youngest child, being surprised every time by God’s grace, begging for God’s mercy and receiving it.

 Martin Luther was right to say, “We are all beggars.” He was right because standing in the dark we are all begging for the light of Jesus Christ.

 Before that light will shine, we must step out of our dark world and embrace those whom God has sent for us to serve. We must reveal our true self to the holy one who has cast his eye in our direction as we think of others before we think of self.

 Where seeing our humble faithfulness Jesus will gift us with his eternal love saying, “Well done my faithful servant, well done. Please, move up higher. Here, sit right here, next to me.”

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever, Amen.   090113.gpc