09 October 2011 Many Are Called, but Few Are Chosen Matthew 22:1-14
We now have our third parable in as many Sundays. The Marriage Feast we read this morning is the last. Knowing there is that moment when the whole story turns we may not have expected to consider Jesus’ immeasurable blessings are only for those who wear the wedding robe.
A few years ago, at the Nashville Festival of Homiletics, Tom Long, an author of many books about preaching, told this story. He, Fred Craddock and Barbara Brown Taylor, who also have written extensively on preaching, were sitting in the stands at a baseball game in Atlanta when suddenly the ushers descended on a man seated a few rows in front of them. They argued back and forth with him for a few moments, and then, to the surprise of everyone in the vicinity, took the man by the arms and frog-marched him out of the stadium. No one knew why the ushers had targeted this man; no one had ever seen anything like it. Everyone just sat in stunned silence, our three preachers among them. Then Fred Craddock shook his head, gestured at the empty seat, and said to his friends, “Must not have had a wedding garment.”
Perhaps we consider a text like this morning’s and we feel like one of the onlookers at that baseball game: speechless. We may wonder, what do those in charge of the wedding crowd know that we don’t know?
On the surface the story seems simple enough and then that turn. The king’s son marries and the king throws a party. He invites many guests: anyone and everyone it seems. But, the invited guests snub the king and his son and the wedding
banquet. The king is rightly enraged and radically changes the guest list. He starts over and invites more guests: anyone and everyone. This time, to his surprise, the guests come. Perhaps they heard what happened to the original group.
The king begins to inspect his guests and discovers one inappropriately dressed. Again he is enraged and orders his attendants to “Bind him hand and foot, and throw him into the outer darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.” Then we hear the final decree; “Many are called, but few are chosen.”
If we consider this parable as representing entre into the kingdom of God we may be somewhat taken aback that our salvation comes down to a dress code. We may be like those at the baseball game.
No one knew why the attendants took this man out of the wedding feast. Surely he did or said something insulting or threatening or rude. This cannot be about what he wore. Everyone must have sat in stunned silence. Has the king not heard of what happened in Matthew 6 with the lilies of the field and not worrying about what we wear?
Perhaps we have this parable because the parents of teenagers in Jesus’ time asked him for help. Perhaps this surprise that God now expects proper dress in a proper place is Jesus’ way of giving parents a dress code and the weapon of profound biblical truth to help carry the day.
We just might expect a parent say, “Why am I worrying about clothing, you ask? Well, after you’ve considered the lilies of the field, how they neither toil nor they spin, consider the wedding guest who forgot to wear a coat and tie. My suggestion is that you ditch the flip flops this minute, march back upstairs, and find something decent to wear to church unless you would like to spend the rest of the day in outer darkness, where I promise you there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.”
Good response aside, nothing Jesus says gets to be taken in isolation, without at least remembering his other words and teachings. We can’t decide once and for all which is more important: Matthew 6 or Matthew 22? We have to read them both, which is daunting when you think about it. Consider the lilies and consider the wedding guest!
We just as well consider the story of Jesus cursing the fig tree. They are all expressions of extremes, of times when Jesus seems to go almost overboard in his reaction to something. A fig tree that doesn’t produce fruit? Wham! Curses to it! A wedding guest without a wedding garment? Wham! Off with his head! Indeed, all are important, all matter, they all save. But how?
What may strike us about these stories is that Jesus is making a point about integrity: Be who you are. Let your life express whose you are. Otherwise, you are as welcome at the tables as a termite and about as useful.
Jesus is lifting us up to be who he has made us to be. If we are a fig tree, by golly, then be a fig tree! Make figs! If we are a wedding guest, for goodness sake, then let’s look like we are at a wedding instead of going to the dentist. No offense to dentists, but take off the long face, change the droopy attitude, put on your party clothes and celebrate – because this is a celebration! And anyone who is not happy to be here – and happy to see who else is here – is officially uninvited!
We have been in worship at other churches, never here at Genesis of course, where it looks like people are about as happy to be in church as Eeyore. We might never guess, to look at them, that salvation is a good thing. We would never know, to hear them tell it, that Christ has made a difference. They have no wedding garment – no outer sign that this really is a party, that we really are, as David Buttrick puts it, “being saved,” that the gospel is really and truly good news!
Maybe the reason for their reserve has more to do with upbringing and custom than stinginess our sourness; maybe. Or maybe they find it hard to put on a wedding garment that everyone else, like taxpayers, sinners, and prostitutes are wearing, too.
Sometimes I am like that. Sometimes I have a hard time celebrating when I look around and notice who else has been invited to the party. Especially when they so clearly don’t deserve to be there. Sometimes I deliberately under dress, or choose to sit and pout in my flip flops while everyone else is dancing in their party shoes. Sometimes I don’t put on the wedding garment that Jesus has already laid out for me, freshly laundered, on my bed. On those days, just send the ushers in after me.
The free character of God’s grace is extended to all who God calls. The free character of God’s grace, however, does not mean that grace is ‘bargain-basement goods, cut-rate forgiveness, cut-rate comfort,” as Dietrich Bonhoeffer observed. The grace of God remains costly and is never “cheap grace,” that “mortal enemy of our church.” “Above all,” Bonhoeffer wrote, “grace is costly, because it was costly to God, because it costs God the life of God’s Son…and because nothing can be cheap to us which is costly to God…Costly grace is the incarnation of God.”
Matthew’s version of the parable opens the doors of God’s kingdom wide, but it does not forget that this kingdom has a king and that this kingdom cannot be converted to conform to our own expectations. While many are called, few are chosen.
About this passage Emil Brunner asks, “But what happens to God’s invitation?” For Brunner it’s not refusals but excuses given by people who are preoccupied and allow other things to interfere. In this context Jesus pronounces the word of judgment and has the servants go into the street “where the gypsies live” and invite people to the banquet.
Guests arrive, but there is an intruder, an individual without the wedding garment. Brunner sheds light on the passage by explaining the oriental custom of the host providing each guest with a wedding garment that the intruder, out of laziness, had not put on. It serves as a severe warning to those Christians who don’t discard their rags. “They want to believe but not to obey,” argues Brunner, “to enjoy and rejoice but not to change their ways.” As Brunner explains, they want both God’s love and to keep their self-love, God’s mercy and their own self-centered hearts.
Brunner consoles listeners by reminding them that Jesus is not expecting perfect obedience overnight, but that divine forgiveness calls us to forgiveness as well. In the closing words of Brunner, “The wedding garment is laid out; all we have to do is to put it on.”
We are to put it on because we are called. The wedding garment, Jesus Christ is laid out for us. All we have to do is put him on. All we have to do is put on the life of Christ, to cloth ourselves in God’s costly grace, Jesus Christ.
But we know that sometimes we follow another way. We pay no attention and go off – one to his or her field, another to his or her business. Some seize the king’s servants, mistreat them and discard them. The king is enraged. He sends his army and destroys our other way.
But we are wedding guests. So be wedding guests. Be who you are, accept the invitation. Accept the body of Jesus Christ to be the wedding garment. We should take off the long face, change the droopy attitude, put on our party clothes and celebrate.
Kim Peavey, who writes and farms in New Hampshire, tells of never being smote on the head, or anywhere else, for that matter, with religious conviction. Yet, after years of milking cows, traveling, graduate study in poetry, teaching college writing, shoveling horse manure and stints as a researcher and writer, she found herself applying to theological schools. This despite, as she says, she can’t even say the word prayer out loud, much less the J-word (Jesus, that would be).
All during first-week orientation, she alternately cries on a rock outdoors by herself and tries not to cry during meetings, worship service, and getting-to-know-each-other games. There are many people at seminary, a great diversity of people, some of whom are friendly, and who look as alarmed at this churchy situation as she does. There are also other people, people who do not choose the vegetarian entrée, people who drink out of Styrofoam cups, people who look like they think she should go forth, be fruitful and multiply, or at least cover her head.
She decided to stay, maybe through her first class. Then, slowly, she discovers she is a wedding guest and she graduates and funny things happen. People think she knows things. They ask her the words to “Amazing Grace.” They ask her about church history, they ask her for a bible, and people ask her to perform wedding ceremonies. She finds herself being who she is.
Then a friend who is dying of cancer asks her to lead her funeral service. She is so terrified by this that she realizes she must do it. A poem comes to her. She sends it to her dying friend. She says, “Read it at my service, please.” When she dies, she does.
In the final paragraph she writes. “In the end, I do not become an ordained minister. Neither do I imagine that I will ever find myself at peace with the complexity, difficulty, and luminosity of the Christian Church. But I have come to a truer, more fruitful engagement with religion, with my work of writing, and with the world, complete with all its non-vegetarian non-feminist non-environmentalists. I have become less afraid, more willing, more open. I have become myself, or more myself; and I have come to know that this in itself is good. And right. And holy.”
Be yourself, or more yourself, a wedding guest. Accept the invitation to life in Jesus Christ. Put on the new person of Jesus Christ and celebrate the good news – for this is a celebration!
In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, one God now and forever, Amen.
Additional helps:
Bonhoeffer, Dietrich, Discipleship, Barbara Green and Reinhardt Krauss, tr. (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2001), 43, 45.
“Image: Art, Faith, Mystery,” Spring 2011, Number 69, Pgs. 87-98.
“Lectionary Homiletics,” Volume XIX, Number 6, pgs. 14-23.
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Monday, October 10, 2011
Monday, October 3, 2011
02 October 2011 Matthew 21:33-46
02 October 2011 Matthew 21:33-46
The questions we hear and often ask ourselves are seldom as innocent as they seem. One pastor tells of a visit with a lifelong member of the church who had not attended for a long time. As they talked the parishioner was curious, ‘How are they doing down at the church?” What a great theological question, “How are they doing down at the church?” From that question our pastor had her sermon for the next Sunday. She called it, “We Are They.”
Her theme was woven around the truth that we are the “they” in this morning’s gospel. We are the tenants who were leased the vineyard. We are they and the not so innocent question that should concern us comes in verse 20, “Now when the owner of the vineyard comes, what will he do to those tenants?”
Throughout church history the church has pointed to a lot of “theys.” Sometimes the list pointed to the religious officials of that day like the Pharisees and the chief priests. But the theys also included Gentiles, women, the uncircumcised, eunuchs, Judaizers, sinners, and Barbarians. People in every age have had a tendency to put distance between themselves and the theys.
It’s like being back in school when some of our classmates would get caught doing something we might now consider casual and being sent to the principal’s office. What will he do to them? And when they get home. What will their parents do to them? It’s like listening to the terrible things people do to one another on the news? What will they do to them? We want to stay away from those theys.
According to Matthew’s gospel the owner had already done a lot of the heavy lifting. He had “planted a vineyard, put a fence around it, dug a wine press in it, and built a watchtower.” And then he left his vineyard in the hands of the tenants who at harvest time seize his slaves, beat one, kill one, and stone another. Finally he sent his son and they killed him too.
It is painful to consider we may be the tenants in this parable. We understand God has left the vineyard in our care. But we are faithful people and we work hard to bring about God’s kingdom.
Leaving the vineyard in our care might remind us of that first creation garden in the Genesis story where God first left God’s kingdom in our hands. Like Adam and Eve and these vineyard tenants we have made our mistakes.
The first involves the land. We thought the land belonged to us. We forgot we were to be stewards of someone else’s property. The tenants create a false sense of ownership in their efforts to secure their perceived inheritance. They think, we are the ones slaving over the land. How dare the owner send servant after servant and finally his own son to collect what we have worked very hard to cultivate and grow and harvest. They felt they were due the inheritance, the land and its bounty. How dare anyone threaten to take what is rightfully theirs?
Before we rush to condemn these tenants we might consider for a moment how well we have done with the vineyard we have been given. Have we considered the jungle we have overtly or covertly made or allowed to be made? War; terror; ecological disaster; families in disarray; confusion; fear and pessimism everywhere; values twisted and the old words given new and strange definitions.
We protest, of course, we are not they. It isn’t our fault. We blame it on someone else. Like in Genesis the man blames the woman. The woman blames the snake. I guess the snake had no one to blame, or did not care.
We blame it on the tenants before us or the tenants here now. We blame it on the government or the hypocritical religious institution. Some of the darkest chapters in the life of the church are the times we blamed then punished others using chapter and verse from this parable.
In our way of thinking the words they and we were poles apart. Jesus will not let us judge so easily. He brings the two words and the two different worlds of they and we closer together.
Human beings have spent a lot of time and energy arguing about judgment and we know well the justification, “An eye for an eye.” The scholars tell us, “An eye for an eye” was originally an attempt to keep the urge to retaliate in check. Given the human appetite for revenge even “an eye for an eye” is hard to enforce.
Jesus spends a lot of time talking about judgment. He tells story after story, parable after parable. This particular text has been noted as Matthew’s way of showing the end times: the fall of Jerusalem, the diaspora of the Jews, the rise of Christianity among the Gentiles.
But, as Professor Anna Carter Florence has suggested, what if this wildly outrageous story is simply that: a wildly outrageous story about a world we have yet to meet? What if this is a story that contrasts human judgment with the as-yet-unexperienced-and-unimagined divine judgment of a God who is so far beyond us, that we cannot even apply the same patterns of justice?
In the human realm, when wicked tenants behave like this, we know what happens. We have perfectly credible, reasonable, rational ways to judge those caught in the act, and this act is particularly foul. So, what would we do? Well, we would put those wretches to a miserable death, and lease the vineyard to other tenants who will give the owner of the vineyard the produce at harvest time!
Notice that Jesus doesn’t exactly confirm us in our perfectly credible, reasonable, rational judgment. Instead, he offers a cryptic exegetical comment, “Have you never read in the scriptures, ‘The stone that the builders rejected has become the cornerstone; this was the Lord’s doing and it is amazing in our eyes’? Therefore I tell you, the kingdom of God will be taken away from you and given to a people that produces the fruits of the kingdom. The one who falls on this stone will be broken to pieces; and it will crush anyone on whom it falls.”
The church today is having a hard time. A new song book is coming out soon because we cannot decide what songs to sing, we cannot decide what instruments to play, we have tried other ways and still cannot all agree on what liturgy to use, if any, we cannot agree on what time to meet, or what is appropriate attire for the occasion or how the building should be configured. Perhaps our trouble may be the same as the Pharisees. We forget this is God’s thing we do here on Sunday morning’s. We forget we are tenants only. We forget the owner of the vineyard will one day come and ask us for an accounting.
Maybe our most important calling is to stop pointing fingers. Maybe it is not the liberals or the conservative we should blame. Maybe it is not the government or the immigrants or the extremists or the terrorists or even our wayward parents. We are they. We are to faithfully tend the garden we have been given. We are to receive those God sends our way. We are to make sure that when God walks down our street and stops at our house we do not miss God.
How much easier to point fingers at those other folk over there. It’s just too hard otherwise to consider our role and responsibility to the vineyard, to consider what it means to be a tenant in this year of 2011 here at Genesis church?
The call to fidelity, which means tending the vineyard, begins at home. It does not end here but it starts here. To participate in the church is to risk an encounter like that moment when the prophet Nathan confronted King David after he had taken another man’s wife and foretold the fateful words, “Thou are the man.”
Oh, if we could come to church assured that the enemy is not us, that we are not the man or the woman on whom God’s kingdom depends or on whom God’s judgment falls!
One of our greatest challenges in this matter of divine judgment may be that we live in a society that tends to fear judgment. The “problem’ is always somewhere else other than here. The “sin” is always with folks other than us.
A visitor recalled sitting in a small, rural church in the mountains of North Carolina during a particularly pointed sermon. The preacher, as the visitor recalled, was preaching a text from Jeremiah in which the prophet catalogs Israel’s multiple sins. And then the preacher, as preachers often do, began to talk about the sins of the congregation, condemning them for their assorted instances of their sin. Then, as if the preacher sensed that the attentiveness of his congregation was wandering the preacher blurted out, “I’m talking about you! And you, and you and you!”
This was a powerful moment. It is so easy to have a sermon bounce off our head and hit someone in the pew behind us. “I’m talking about you!” leaves no rebound.
I wonder if Jesus is reminding us that ‘what we would do’ is not what God would do. In the realms of God, judgment will not look like it does in the human realm. The vineyard will bear another kind of fruit. The old ways will be crushed beneath an open tombstone and death, where will thy sting be, then?
All we can say is what we know: God will forgive seventy times seven. God will welcome the prodigal home. God will open the banquet to tax collectors and prostitutes. God will raise the dead to new life. What we know about what God would do is that it is completely incredible, unreasonable, and irrational; not at all what we would do.
And we need not be reminded that many of us are lousy gardeners. Not all. Some of us can plant anything and make it grow. But Jesus said we all have been given this plot of land. It was in good shape when God gave it to us. Now our task is the same as those who came before us. It is to leave the garden better than we found it.
If this is true it will take all of us to make this garden lush and green and productive again. Hopefully we will work to reach out and join hands and hearts to our brothers and sisters and even strangers and enemies. Isn’t this the kind of world we want to leave for those who follow us?
Maybe it is about us after all.
In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. One God, now and forever. Amen.
Additional resources:
“Pulpit Resource,” Volume 36, Number 4, 2008, pgs. 5-8.
“Lectionary Homiletics,” Volume XIX, Number 6, pgs. 11-12.
100211.gpc
The questions we hear and often ask ourselves are seldom as innocent as they seem. One pastor tells of a visit with a lifelong member of the church who had not attended for a long time. As they talked the parishioner was curious, ‘How are they doing down at the church?” What a great theological question, “How are they doing down at the church?” From that question our pastor had her sermon for the next Sunday. She called it, “We Are They.”
Her theme was woven around the truth that we are the “they” in this morning’s gospel. We are the tenants who were leased the vineyard. We are they and the not so innocent question that should concern us comes in verse 20, “Now when the owner of the vineyard comes, what will he do to those tenants?”
Throughout church history the church has pointed to a lot of “theys.” Sometimes the list pointed to the religious officials of that day like the Pharisees and the chief priests. But the theys also included Gentiles, women, the uncircumcised, eunuchs, Judaizers, sinners, and Barbarians. People in every age have had a tendency to put distance between themselves and the theys.
It’s like being back in school when some of our classmates would get caught doing something we might now consider casual and being sent to the principal’s office. What will he do to them? And when they get home. What will their parents do to them? It’s like listening to the terrible things people do to one another on the news? What will they do to them? We want to stay away from those theys.
According to Matthew’s gospel the owner had already done a lot of the heavy lifting. He had “planted a vineyard, put a fence around it, dug a wine press in it, and built a watchtower.” And then he left his vineyard in the hands of the tenants who at harvest time seize his slaves, beat one, kill one, and stone another. Finally he sent his son and they killed him too.
It is painful to consider we may be the tenants in this parable. We understand God has left the vineyard in our care. But we are faithful people and we work hard to bring about God’s kingdom.
Leaving the vineyard in our care might remind us of that first creation garden in the Genesis story where God first left God’s kingdom in our hands. Like Adam and Eve and these vineyard tenants we have made our mistakes.
The first involves the land. We thought the land belonged to us. We forgot we were to be stewards of someone else’s property. The tenants create a false sense of ownership in their efforts to secure their perceived inheritance. They think, we are the ones slaving over the land. How dare the owner send servant after servant and finally his own son to collect what we have worked very hard to cultivate and grow and harvest. They felt they were due the inheritance, the land and its bounty. How dare anyone threaten to take what is rightfully theirs?
Before we rush to condemn these tenants we might consider for a moment how well we have done with the vineyard we have been given. Have we considered the jungle we have overtly or covertly made or allowed to be made? War; terror; ecological disaster; families in disarray; confusion; fear and pessimism everywhere; values twisted and the old words given new and strange definitions.
We protest, of course, we are not they. It isn’t our fault. We blame it on someone else. Like in Genesis the man blames the woman. The woman blames the snake. I guess the snake had no one to blame, or did not care.
We blame it on the tenants before us or the tenants here now. We blame it on the government or the hypocritical religious institution. Some of the darkest chapters in the life of the church are the times we blamed then punished others using chapter and verse from this parable.
In our way of thinking the words they and we were poles apart. Jesus will not let us judge so easily. He brings the two words and the two different worlds of they and we closer together.
Human beings have spent a lot of time and energy arguing about judgment and we know well the justification, “An eye for an eye.” The scholars tell us, “An eye for an eye” was originally an attempt to keep the urge to retaliate in check. Given the human appetite for revenge even “an eye for an eye” is hard to enforce.
Jesus spends a lot of time talking about judgment. He tells story after story, parable after parable. This particular text has been noted as Matthew’s way of showing the end times: the fall of Jerusalem, the diaspora of the Jews, the rise of Christianity among the Gentiles.
But, as Professor Anna Carter Florence has suggested, what if this wildly outrageous story is simply that: a wildly outrageous story about a world we have yet to meet? What if this is a story that contrasts human judgment with the as-yet-unexperienced-and-unimagined divine judgment of a God who is so far beyond us, that we cannot even apply the same patterns of justice?
In the human realm, when wicked tenants behave like this, we know what happens. We have perfectly credible, reasonable, rational ways to judge those caught in the act, and this act is particularly foul. So, what would we do? Well, we would put those wretches to a miserable death, and lease the vineyard to other tenants who will give the owner of the vineyard the produce at harvest time!
Notice that Jesus doesn’t exactly confirm us in our perfectly credible, reasonable, rational judgment. Instead, he offers a cryptic exegetical comment, “Have you never read in the scriptures, ‘The stone that the builders rejected has become the cornerstone; this was the Lord’s doing and it is amazing in our eyes’? Therefore I tell you, the kingdom of God will be taken away from you and given to a people that produces the fruits of the kingdom. The one who falls on this stone will be broken to pieces; and it will crush anyone on whom it falls.”
The church today is having a hard time. A new song book is coming out soon because we cannot decide what songs to sing, we cannot decide what instruments to play, we have tried other ways and still cannot all agree on what liturgy to use, if any, we cannot agree on what time to meet, or what is appropriate attire for the occasion or how the building should be configured. Perhaps our trouble may be the same as the Pharisees. We forget this is God’s thing we do here on Sunday morning’s. We forget we are tenants only. We forget the owner of the vineyard will one day come and ask us for an accounting.
Maybe our most important calling is to stop pointing fingers. Maybe it is not the liberals or the conservative we should blame. Maybe it is not the government or the immigrants or the extremists or the terrorists or even our wayward parents. We are they. We are to faithfully tend the garden we have been given. We are to receive those God sends our way. We are to make sure that when God walks down our street and stops at our house we do not miss God.
How much easier to point fingers at those other folk over there. It’s just too hard otherwise to consider our role and responsibility to the vineyard, to consider what it means to be a tenant in this year of 2011 here at Genesis church?
The call to fidelity, which means tending the vineyard, begins at home. It does not end here but it starts here. To participate in the church is to risk an encounter like that moment when the prophet Nathan confronted King David after he had taken another man’s wife and foretold the fateful words, “Thou are the man.”
Oh, if we could come to church assured that the enemy is not us, that we are not the man or the woman on whom God’s kingdom depends or on whom God’s judgment falls!
One of our greatest challenges in this matter of divine judgment may be that we live in a society that tends to fear judgment. The “problem’ is always somewhere else other than here. The “sin” is always with folks other than us.
A visitor recalled sitting in a small, rural church in the mountains of North Carolina during a particularly pointed sermon. The preacher, as the visitor recalled, was preaching a text from Jeremiah in which the prophet catalogs Israel’s multiple sins. And then the preacher, as preachers often do, began to talk about the sins of the congregation, condemning them for their assorted instances of their sin. Then, as if the preacher sensed that the attentiveness of his congregation was wandering the preacher blurted out, “I’m talking about you! And you, and you and you!”
This was a powerful moment. It is so easy to have a sermon bounce off our head and hit someone in the pew behind us. “I’m talking about you!” leaves no rebound.
I wonder if Jesus is reminding us that ‘what we would do’ is not what God would do. In the realms of God, judgment will not look like it does in the human realm. The vineyard will bear another kind of fruit. The old ways will be crushed beneath an open tombstone and death, where will thy sting be, then?
All we can say is what we know: God will forgive seventy times seven. God will welcome the prodigal home. God will open the banquet to tax collectors and prostitutes. God will raise the dead to new life. What we know about what God would do is that it is completely incredible, unreasonable, and irrational; not at all what we would do.
And we need not be reminded that many of us are lousy gardeners. Not all. Some of us can plant anything and make it grow. But Jesus said we all have been given this plot of land. It was in good shape when God gave it to us. Now our task is the same as those who came before us. It is to leave the garden better than we found it.
If this is true it will take all of us to make this garden lush and green and productive again. Hopefully we will work to reach out and join hands and hearts to our brothers and sisters and even strangers and enemies. Isn’t this the kind of world we want to leave for those who follow us?
Maybe it is about us after all.
In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. One God, now and forever. Amen.
Additional resources:
“Pulpit Resource,” Volume 36, Number 4, 2008, pgs. 5-8.
“Lectionary Homiletics,” Volume XIX, Number 6, pgs. 11-12.
100211.gpc
Sunday, September 25, 2011
25 September 2011 “Showing up” Matthew 21:23-32
25 September 2011 “Showing up” Matthew 21:23-32
The story is told of a missionary who was scheduled to speak about his mission work at a distant church. He got up before daybreak that Sunday morning and spent the afternoon speaking with members of the congregation. As he was leaving that evening, the treasurer of the church gave him an envelope, which he tucked in his pocket. It was very late when he made it home. As he undressed, he remembered the envelope. He turned on the light in the bathroom and opened it. Out fell a check with his name written on it in bold letters. Under his name were the words: A million thanks! It was signed by the treasurer. While I am sure the “A million thanks” was sincere, sometimes words are not enough.
In this morning’s gospel, Jesus is asked rather bluntly by the scribes and Pharisees who in the world he thought he was. He had just entered into Jerusalem, he had cast the moneychangers from the temple, cursed the fig tree and asked the religious officials if they had accepted John and the baptism he brought. The stories they heard about Jesus were of a man who was performing miracles, healing the sick, raising the dead and challenging the established churches authority. They wanted to know who he possibly thought he was coming into their temple trying to teach them this way.
Knowing sometimes words are not enough, Jesus tells them a parable, a story which will explain who he is if they will live their life like the parable says they must. Living this new way they will know who he is because mere words cannot tell them. Knowing who he is, they will discover, is not about head knowledge. They will know who he is when they act, when they live their lives in a certain way. Then and only then will his identity be known to them.
Of course this is Jesus’ message to us too. We can do all the bible study in the world for all the days of our lives yet we will not know who Jesus is until we actually live what we believe. When we live what we believe our lives change, our views about life change, our expectations for life change.
Jesus told the scribes and the Pharisees a parable about a man who had two sons. First, he sent his older son to work in his vineyard, but his son refused to go, then later, he changed his mind and headed for the fields. Not knowing this, the father sent his second son to do the work his older brother had refused to do. This son said he would go, but then changed his mind and never set foot in the fields. “Which son did the will of the Father?” Jesus asked. Which of the two boys obeyed?
It is easy to see that the son who obeyed his father is the one who went into the field to work the vineyard. This was the first boy. Even though he said he would not go, when he changed his mind and went to the vineyard that is when he was being obedient.
Having told this teaching parable Jesus makes crystal clear to these priests and elders from the temple the lifestyle they must lead if they are to know him and under whose authority he acts.
Then, he tells them which brother they were. They were not the one who obeyed their father. They were the ones who said they would go and do the work their father asked them to do but never set foot in the fields. They said all the right things, believed all the right things, stood for all the right things, but would not do the right things God asked them to do.
And lastly, because they would not live their lives doing what God asked them to do prostitutes and tax collectors would enter the kingdom before them. Why so harsh? Because as religious leaders, the priests and scribes were known for their words, but were short on deeds. The Danish theologian and philosopher Soren Kierkegaard said, “Jesus wants followers not admirers.”
We hear all too often of people whose actions do not match their words. They sound great, they say all the right things yet they fall far short of doing what they say they will do or being who they think they are. When I am honest with myself and listen to myself, and assess my actions I am certainly guilty of the same thing.
Perhaps you are too. We pray,” I love you Lord, I give my life to you Lord, and I will follow wherever you lead me Lord.” Yet how quickly do these words of faithfulness to discipleship become defensive when we try to explain our inaction, when we try to justify why we have fallen short of what God asks us to do. Who among us has not been like the second son, saying we will be faithful and then forgetting or ignoring our very own promises. We all know how hard it is sometimes to keep the promises we make.
As Elisabeth Elliot has observed, “The problem with living sacrifices like us is that we keep creeping off the altar.” We know about the creeping. This creeping, this sliding away from faithfulness may be conscious or unconscious.
Consciously we know when we say one thing and do another, when we promise we will love each other on Sunday and then find ingenious ways to take advantage of one another on Monday. This consciousness is not the real problem for most of us. It is the unconscious that is most problematic, the way many of us substitute our beliefs about God for our obedience to God, as if it were enough to say “I go Lord”, without even tensing a muscle to get out of our chairs. It is easy to get beliefs mixed up with actions.
There are many people I know who believe they love their families but spend very little time with them. There are even more who believe they are against violence in movies but stand in line for the next “Die Hard” sequel. There are sadly greater numbers who believe in the American way but are not even registered to vote.
There is this peculiar gap between what we believe and what we actually do. The theological word for it is sin – missing the mark – which is both inevitable and forgivable but never tolerable for those who say they love Jesus. When Jesus is the mark we are missing the result is deeply damaging. We see it tear up families, friendships, communities, even our world when we say we will love and instead we are indifferent, when we say we will do right and do wrong, when we say “I will go Lord” and go nowhere at all.
What we believe, you see, has no meaning apart from what we do about it. There is no creed or mission statement that is worth more than one visit to a sick friend, or one handout given to someone homeless, without a job, or a crumb to eat.
It becomes clear to me every day here at Genesis, there are faithful souls in this church whose actions do match their words. We do care for one another, for our community, our country, and our world. We do not have to look far to know there are people who do what they can do. There are ones among us who take casseroles in times of need, who write a note when someone needs it the most, who take folks who don’t have a car to the store, who make an encouraging phone call or give a gentle squeeze of the hand to say “I am praying for you.” Some living sacrifices do not slip off the altar.
In Isak Dinesens book, “Out of Africa”, she tells the story of a young Kikuyu boy named Kitau who appeared at her door in Nairobi one day to ask if he might work for her. She said yes and he turned out to be a fine servant, but after just three months he came to her again to ask her for a letter of recommendation to Sheik Ali bin Salim, a Muslim in Mombasa. Upset at the thought of losing him, she offered to raise his pay, but he was firm about leaving.
He had decided he would become either a Christian or a Muslim, and his whole purpose in coming to live with her had been to see the ways and habits of Christians up close. Next he would go live for three months with Sheik Ali to see how Muslims behaved and then he would make up his mind.
Aghast, Dinesen wrote, I believe that even an Archbishop, when he had these facts laid before him would have said, or at least thought, as I say, “Good God, Kitau, you might have told me that when you came here.”
You know, God is always watching, if we think God will tell us ahead of time when he is looking to see if our actions match our words we are in for a rude awakening. You see, God has been telling us all along to be on the lookout, we will not know the time or place God will call us to account for our lives. There are plenty of people who say, believe, or stand for all the right things. What God is short of are people who will go where God calls them and do what God gives them to do.
A Baptist minister in Birmingham Alabama named Roger Lovette tells about his son sending him a bulletin from the Maranatha Baptist Church in Plains, Georgia. One Sunday his son stood in a long line of visitors to listen to Jimmy Carter teach Sunday school. He stayed for the worship service and sent the bulletin for that Sunday to his dad.
Reverend Lovette discovered this notice in the bulletin: “Rosalynn Carter will clean the church next Saturday. Jimmy Carter will cut the grass and trim the shrubbery.”
It is not always the one who talks or preaches or teaches who reflects the will of the Father. Sometimes it is the one who shows up on a hot Saturday afternoon to dust the pews, take out the trash, cut the grass, lend a helping hand to a stranger, reach out to pray with someone, letting their actions speak louder than their words.
Letting our actions speak louder than our words is what is most important to God. It is not what our mouths say, it is what our lives say that teach others under whose authority we act. This is how we will know who Jesus is, by living our lives in action, doing his will. This is how Jesus reveals to us who he is. Not in the words we say but in the things we do. This is exactly the model Jesus lived and the clear way we are to follow.
You know, Jesus has learned to tell the difference between those whose actions match their words and those whose don’t, and we can know it too. Even about ourselves. To tell which one we are, look in any mirror. What is moving? Our mouth or our feet? It is so telling isn’t it. Our mouth or our feet?
Clearly one without the other is like a check with God’s name in bold letters and the words, “A million thanks.” Sometimes words are not enough.
In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. One God, now and forever. Amen.
Additional resources:
“Home By Another Way,” Barbara Brown Taylor, p. 188-191.
“Showing up,” Christian Century, V. 122, No. 19, pg. 20.
092511.gpc
The story is told of a missionary who was scheduled to speak about his mission work at a distant church. He got up before daybreak that Sunday morning and spent the afternoon speaking with members of the congregation. As he was leaving that evening, the treasurer of the church gave him an envelope, which he tucked in his pocket. It was very late when he made it home. As he undressed, he remembered the envelope. He turned on the light in the bathroom and opened it. Out fell a check with his name written on it in bold letters. Under his name were the words: A million thanks! It was signed by the treasurer. While I am sure the “A million thanks” was sincere, sometimes words are not enough.
In this morning’s gospel, Jesus is asked rather bluntly by the scribes and Pharisees who in the world he thought he was. He had just entered into Jerusalem, he had cast the moneychangers from the temple, cursed the fig tree and asked the religious officials if they had accepted John and the baptism he brought. The stories they heard about Jesus were of a man who was performing miracles, healing the sick, raising the dead and challenging the established churches authority. They wanted to know who he possibly thought he was coming into their temple trying to teach them this way.
Knowing sometimes words are not enough, Jesus tells them a parable, a story which will explain who he is if they will live their life like the parable says they must. Living this new way they will know who he is because mere words cannot tell them. Knowing who he is, they will discover, is not about head knowledge. They will know who he is when they act, when they live their lives in a certain way. Then and only then will his identity be known to them.
Of course this is Jesus’ message to us too. We can do all the bible study in the world for all the days of our lives yet we will not know who Jesus is until we actually live what we believe. When we live what we believe our lives change, our views about life change, our expectations for life change.
Jesus told the scribes and the Pharisees a parable about a man who had two sons. First, he sent his older son to work in his vineyard, but his son refused to go, then later, he changed his mind and headed for the fields. Not knowing this, the father sent his second son to do the work his older brother had refused to do. This son said he would go, but then changed his mind and never set foot in the fields. “Which son did the will of the Father?” Jesus asked. Which of the two boys obeyed?
It is easy to see that the son who obeyed his father is the one who went into the field to work the vineyard. This was the first boy. Even though he said he would not go, when he changed his mind and went to the vineyard that is when he was being obedient.
Having told this teaching parable Jesus makes crystal clear to these priests and elders from the temple the lifestyle they must lead if they are to know him and under whose authority he acts.
Then, he tells them which brother they were. They were not the one who obeyed their father. They were the ones who said they would go and do the work their father asked them to do but never set foot in the fields. They said all the right things, believed all the right things, stood for all the right things, but would not do the right things God asked them to do.
And lastly, because they would not live their lives doing what God asked them to do prostitutes and tax collectors would enter the kingdom before them. Why so harsh? Because as religious leaders, the priests and scribes were known for their words, but were short on deeds. The Danish theologian and philosopher Soren Kierkegaard said, “Jesus wants followers not admirers.”
We hear all too often of people whose actions do not match their words. They sound great, they say all the right things yet they fall far short of doing what they say they will do or being who they think they are. When I am honest with myself and listen to myself, and assess my actions I am certainly guilty of the same thing.
Perhaps you are too. We pray,” I love you Lord, I give my life to you Lord, and I will follow wherever you lead me Lord.” Yet how quickly do these words of faithfulness to discipleship become defensive when we try to explain our inaction, when we try to justify why we have fallen short of what God asks us to do. Who among us has not been like the second son, saying we will be faithful and then forgetting or ignoring our very own promises. We all know how hard it is sometimes to keep the promises we make.
As Elisabeth Elliot has observed, “The problem with living sacrifices like us is that we keep creeping off the altar.” We know about the creeping. This creeping, this sliding away from faithfulness may be conscious or unconscious.
Consciously we know when we say one thing and do another, when we promise we will love each other on Sunday and then find ingenious ways to take advantage of one another on Monday. This consciousness is not the real problem for most of us. It is the unconscious that is most problematic, the way many of us substitute our beliefs about God for our obedience to God, as if it were enough to say “I go Lord”, without even tensing a muscle to get out of our chairs. It is easy to get beliefs mixed up with actions.
There are many people I know who believe they love their families but spend very little time with them. There are even more who believe they are against violence in movies but stand in line for the next “Die Hard” sequel. There are sadly greater numbers who believe in the American way but are not even registered to vote.
There is this peculiar gap between what we believe and what we actually do. The theological word for it is sin – missing the mark – which is both inevitable and forgivable but never tolerable for those who say they love Jesus. When Jesus is the mark we are missing the result is deeply damaging. We see it tear up families, friendships, communities, even our world when we say we will love and instead we are indifferent, when we say we will do right and do wrong, when we say “I will go Lord” and go nowhere at all.
What we believe, you see, has no meaning apart from what we do about it. There is no creed or mission statement that is worth more than one visit to a sick friend, or one handout given to someone homeless, without a job, or a crumb to eat.
It becomes clear to me every day here at Genesis, there are faithful souls in this church whose actions do match their words. We do care for one another, for our community, our country, and our world. We do not have to look far to know there are people who do what they can do. There are ones among us who take casseroles in times of need, who write a note when someone needs it the most, who take folks who don’t have a car to the store, who make an encouraging phone call or give a gentle squeeze of the hand to say “I am praying for you.” Some living sacrifices do not slip off the altar.
In Isak Dinesens book, “Out of Africa”, she tells the story of a young Kikuyu boy named Kitau who appeared at her door in Nairobi one day to ask if he might work for her. She said yes and he turned out to be a fine servant, but after just three months he came to her again to ask her for a letter of recommendation to Sheik Ali bin Salim, a Muslim in Mombasa. Upset at the thought of losing him, she offered to raise his pay, but he was firm about leaving.
He had decided he would become either a Christian or a Muslim, and his whole purpose in coming to live with her had been to see the ways and habits of Christians up close. Next he would go live for three months with Sheik Ali to see how Muslims behaved and then he would make up his mind.
Aghast, Dinesen wrote, I believe that even an Archbishop, when he had these facts laid before him would have said, or at least thought, as I say, “Good God, Kitau, you might have told me that when you came here.”
You know, God is always watching, if we think God will tell us ahead of time when he is looking to see if our actions match our words we are in for a rude awakening. You see, God has been telling us all along to be on the lookout, we will not know the time or place God will call us to account for our lives. There are plenty of people who say, believe, or stand for all the right things. What God is short of are people who will go where God calls them and do what God gives them to do.
A Baptist minister in Birmingham Alabama named Roger Lovette tells about his son sending him a bulletin from the Maranatha Baptist Church in Plains, Georgia. One Sunday his son stood in a long line of visitors to listen to Jimmy Carter teach Sunday school. He stayed for the worship service and sent the bulletin for that Sunday to his dad.
Reverend Lovette discovered this notice in the bulletin: “Rosalynn Carter will clean the church next Saturday. Jimmy Carter will cut the grass and trim the shrubbery.”
It is not always the one who talks or preaches or teaches who reflects the will of the Father. Sometimes it is the one who shows up on a hot Saturday afternoon to dust the pews, take out the trash, cut the grass, lend a helping hand to a stranger, reach out to pray with someone, letting their actions speak louder than their words.
Letting our actions speak louder than our words is what is most important to God. It is not what our mouths say, it is what our lives say that teach others under whose authority we act. This is how we will know who Jesus is, by living our lives in action, doing his will. This is how Jesus reveals to us who he is. Not in the words we say but in the things we do. This is exactly the model Jesus lived and the clear way we are to follow.
You know, Jesus has learned to tell the difference between those whose actions match their words and those whose don’t, and we can know it too. Even about ourselves. To tell which one we are, look in any mirror. What is moving? Our mouth or our feet? It is so telling isn’t it. Our mouth or our feet?
Clearly one without the other is like a check with God’s name in bold letters and the words, “A million thanks.” Sometimes words are not enough.
In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. One God, now and forever. Amen.
Additional resources:
“Home By Another Way,” Barbara Brown Taylor, p. 188-191.
“Showing up,” Christian Century, V. 122, No. 19, pg. 20.
092511.gpc
Monday, September 19, 2011
18 September 2011 “Begin With the End in Mind” Matthew 20:1-16
18 September 2011 “Begin With the End in Mind” Matthew 20:1-16
I have always been a big fan of Brenham State School. That’s the place in Brenham where people with mental retardation live and work. During my time there I learned so much about human behavior, supervising people, advocating for those who struggle to advocate for themselves, and much more. I felt, and still believe, it is a good place.
As good as it is people are people and some days the job can wear folks down. The staff work hard hours; 6/2, 2/10, or 10/6. They work holidays and weekends. At times the work is highly stressful and difficult physically and emotionally.
I had the advantage of working with the staff a long time. I knew them and they knew me and that was a very good thing for them and for me. But on occasion their job performance did not meet my expectations and we would talk.
Over time I learned who I could talk with easily and who would push back a bit. The push back folks almost always brought our talk to the point where eventually they would say, “That’s not fair,” or “You aren’t being fair,” or “The system isn’t being fair,” and on and on about something being unfair.
I must admit I seldom saw it that way. Being fair, while important in the context of being just, usually meant to the employee I should give them a break. They wanted me to overlook the rule or ignore unacceptable behavior because they believed themselves to be a good person, or they had not intended to break a rule, or there were special circumstances.
And they may have been right. This work discussion involved them and they felt they deserved to be treated fairly according to their definition. “Treat me fair,” they would say. “Don’t punish me.” “Don’t tell me I’m not doing my job correctly.” “Treat me differently if it means I’ll get a break.” Otherwise, I was not being fair.
Working directly with people in any and all settings can produce stress. We all feel it and it is obvious we will never totally eliminate stress from our lives. Even if we change jobs, move to another town, or retire. No matter, stress is just a fact of life.
We do learn over time that we can reduce our stress if we will be honest with ourselves about its cause. But we’ve made decisions and we have commitments and obligations. So our challenge becomes one of healthy vs. unhealthy decision making about the stressors we have and our habits or disciplines or responses for managing them.
When I taught stress management to the people I supervised I was not surprised by what stressed them. Money issues were the most dominant, followed closely by family concerns. Physical problems, addictive behaviors of all sorts were there too. Over and over again I heard the same unrealized expectation about these difficult life issues. Life should be fair, folks would say.
It is certainly clear where we want fairness. We want life and work and school and the law and mom and dad and church and especially God, to be fair.
Life and work and school and the law and mom and dad and church and God should be just and honest and good with all things being equal, impartial, unbiased, with even and equal treatment for everyone. Oh, we know what a slippery slope this can be.
We know full well life is not always fair. Work is not always fair. School, mom and dad, the law, church, those preachers, they are not always fair. There is not one place in the book of life where it says we can expect fairness. Even if we are promised fairness, we would all have a pretty strong self interest in defining what fairness would be and I dare say some folks would be left out of the fairness equation if it were up to us.
We all know life has established rules and laws to govern what is just and expected. Yet those rules and laws differ in different settings and circumstance. No two sets of parents have the same governing ideals. Rules do change.
Going in I naively thought people wanted to be treated the same. Oh, how I discovered that is not the case. We think we do, but we really don’t. If two people walk into work ten minutes late and the rule calls for a certain response they do not want to be treated the same. They want to be given a break and excused for their lateness for they have compelling reasons that should be considered. Oh how the slippery slope of favoritism and unfairness is being greased.
Your see, if we are punished it’s unfair. If another receives what we consider preferential treatment it is favoritism. Even when everyone receives the same consequence the system is seen as unfair. We hear, “Those people in charge should just overlook that. That’s not really that important. People do that all the time. No one gets hurt.”
Jesus tells the story this morning of workers receiving the same wage. It is a story of workers being treated the same. It doesn’t work. There is a cry that the landowner is being unfair. There is a really good reason given. Not all worked the same hours, they say. God is being unfair. God should not be giving the same wage; everyone should be treated according to their good works.
What these workers are saying is we should be treated individually. When justice is being dealt, we want our particular circumstances to be taken into consideration. This seems only fair. But then folks jump to the most outrageous conclusions when that individual treatment appears to show favoritism or ignores perceived justice. That’s not fair. I deserve more or less than those others. So, we go back to the basics. Treat ever one the same.
But we cannot ignore how we are programmed. ‘The early bird gets the worm.’ ‘Get to work early and work hard. That’s a sure path to success.’ On and on.
The vineyard boss should pay attention to the best worker, the first one into the vineyard in the morning and the last one to leave at night. Those first into the vineyard should be the first in line to get their pay. The boss will surely pay them what they deserve.
Only, according to this morning’s gospel, those who get to work last will be first and the first to work will be last! Wait. What happened? The old ways of thinking about early birds, working long and hard will get you nowhere! Seriously! Surely something is wrong. This won’t work. It’s not fair.
And, it gets worse. Those at the end of the line will not only be paid first, they will be paid as much as those at the front. This is just so unfair. What was Jesus thinking? There is really going to be trouble over this!
Then the landowner reminds the workers. First, this is my vineyard. Second, I have paid you exactly what I said I would. Third, what business is it of yours what I pay the other workers? From his perspective, if he wants to be generous with his money should the workers begrudge his generosity?
Yes indeed. They do begrudge his generosity. They have a strong sense of what is fair, what is right and what is not. Equal pay for equal work is fair. Equal pay for unequal work is not fair. Paying top dollar to those who do the most work is fair. Paying top dollar to those who do the least work is not fair. Treating everyone the same when they are is fair. Treating everyone the same when they are not is not fair.
If life and work, mom and dad, the law and school, and church, are not going to be fair at least God should be. God should be the one sovereign authority whom we can count on to reward us according to our efforts, who knows when we have been naughty and nice, who knows how hard we have worked and who keeps those most deserving in the front of the line where they belong and then rewards them accordingly. Life may not be fair, but God should be.
It may be disturbing at first to hear this morning that this is not so. We believe God should reward us according to our efforts, our good works and according to what we believe we deserve. But it will not be so according to this morning’s gospel.
This householder, this landlord, this God puts the same amount of money into the hands of those who arrived last and worked least. And God starts at the end of the line on payday where those who gave the least effort stood.
Can you imagine the cheering, the laughter and back slapping back there at the end of the line when those there realized what was happening? While near the front, with the first and the most, there is loud grumbling and even hostility.
Everyone is paid. They are paid the same. But how it is received depends entirely on what each of us believes we deserve. Those of us who receive more than we feel we deserve are jubilant. Those who receive less are furious.
Not only does our response depend on what we believe we deserve, it also depends on where we are in the pay line. The majority of us would argue we have been short changed, After all, we are the ones who deserve the most, we are good Christians, we work hard at being faithful, we come to church, we give, we say our prayers, our sins are just so tiny compared to most people, we feel sorry for the homeless as we check to see that our door is locked when they walk up to our car asking for a handout. We feel sorry for the poor in areas of devastation as we avoid the alley ways in certain parts of Austin.
It is entirely possible that we are mistaken about where we are in line. It is entirely possible that, as far as God is concerned, we are, at best, halfway around the block from the front of the line and that there are all sorts of people ahead of us. Other folk who are far more deserving of God’s love than we. People who have many more stars in their crowns than we will ever have. They are at the front of the line, and we are near the end of it for all sorts of reasons.
I don’t mean to be pointing fingers here. There are so many things we mean to do and so many we mean not to do. Even when we do our best, things get in the way; people get sick, businesses fail, relationships go down the drain. There are a lot of reasons why people wind up at the end of the line and only God can sort that out.
But suppose for a moment that it is you back there and me too. I know you don’t want to be alone, surrounded by strangers, people who don’t understand you, friends who don’t care for you, loved ones who might abandon you. We are all there. And when we least expect it the paymaster faces the line and says, ‘We are starting at the end of the line today’ and God hands you your ticket and every one of us around you receives theirs and all of us near the end of the line begin to cheer. We begin to cheer for we realize God’s saving grace comes even to sinners like us. No matter the hour, God’s forgives, and God blesses us with God’s grace. No matter when we first went to work and began to believe and give our life to Jesus our salvation is the same as the saints. Our salvation is the same as the death bed converts.
We don’t know why, God seems to love us indiscriminately and seems to enjoy reversing the systems we set up to explain why God should love some of us more than others of us. By our standards, God may not seem fair or just, but for those of us who stand near the back of the line this sounds like very good news. Because then there is a chance we will receive from God much more than we are worth, that we will get far more than we deserve, not because of who we are but because of who God is.
God is fair and God is just. Not by our standards but by Gods. By those standards God is forgiving, loving and generous even to those who are late coming to the vineyard. And God extends that same grace to ones as undeserving as you and me and for that reason there is a very good chance that the cheers and back slapping, the laughter and gratitude will turn out to be directed to the least of these, found by our God, right back here where we belong.
In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. One God, now and forever. Amen.
091811.gpc
I have always been a big fan of Brenham State School. That’s the place in Brenham where people with mental retardation live and work. During my time there I learned so much about human behavior, supervising people, advocating for those who struggle to advocate for themselves, and much more. I felt, and still believe, it is a good place.
As good as it is people are people and some days the job can wear folks down. The staff work hard hours; 6/2, 2/10, or 10/6. They work holidays and weekends. At times the work is highly stressful and difficult physically and emotionally.
I had the advantage of working with the staff a long time. I knew them and they knew me and that was a very good thing for them and for me. But on occasion their job performance did not meet my expectations and we would talk.
Over time I learned who I could talk with easily and who would push back a bit. The push back folks almost always brought our talk to the point where eventually they would say, “That’s not fair,” or “You aren’t being fair,” or “The system isn’t being fair,” and on and on about something being unfair.
I must admit I seldom saw it that way. Being fair, while important in the context of being just, usually meant to the employee I should give them a break. They wanted me to overlook the rule or ignore unacceptable behavior because they believed themselves to be a good person, or they had not intended to break a rule, or there were special circumstances.
And they may have been right. This work discussion involved them and they felt they deserved to be treated fairly according to their definition. “Treat me fair,” they would say. “Don’t punish me.” “Don’t tell me I’m not doing my job correctly.” “Treat me differently if it means I’ll get a break.” Otherwise, I was not being fair.
Working directly with people in any and all settings can produce stress. We all feel it and it is obvious we will never totally eliminate stress from our lives. Even if we change jobs, move to another town, or retire. No matter, stress is just a fact of life.
We do learn over time that we can reduce our stress if we will be honest with ourselves about its cause. But we’ve made decisions and we have commitments and obligations. So our challenge becomes one of healthy vs. unhealthy decision making about the stressors we have and our habits or disciplines or responses for managing them.
When I taught stress management to the people I supervised I was not surprised by what stressed them. Money issues were the most dominant, followed closely by family concerns. Physical problems, addictive behaviors of all sorts were there too. Over and over again I heard the same unrealized expectation about these difficult life issues. Life should be fair, folks would say.
It is certainly clear where we want fairness. We want life and work and school and the law and mom and dad and church and especially God, to be fair.
Life and work and school and the law and mom and dad and church and God should be just and honest and good with all things being equal, impartial, unbiased, with even and equal treatment for everyone. Oh, we know what a slippery slope this can be.
We know full well life is not always fair. Work is not always fair. School, mom and dad, the law, church, those preachers, they are not always fair. There is not one place in the book of life where it says we can expect fairness. Even if we are promised fairness, we would all have a pretty strong self interest in defining what fairness would be and I dare say some folks would be left out of the fairness equation if it were up to us.
We all know life has established rules and laws to govern what is just and expected. Yet those rules and laws differ in different settings and circumstance. No two sets of parents have the same governing ideals. Rules do change.
Going in I naively thought people wanted to be treated the same. Oh, how I discovered that is not the case. We think we do, but we really don’t. If two people walk into work ten minutes late and the rule calls for a certain response they do not want to be treated the same. They want to be given a break and excused for their lateness for they have compelling reasons that should be considered. Oh how the slippery slope of favoritism and unfairness is being greased.
Your see, if we are punished it’s unfair. If another receives what we consider preferential treatment it is favoritism. Even when everyone receives the same consequence the system is seen as unfair. We hear, “Those people in charge should just overlook that. That’s not really that important. People do that all the time. No one gets hurt.”
Jesus tells the story this morning of workers receiving the same wage. It is a story of workers being treated the same. It doesn’t work. There is a cry that the landowner is being unfair. There is a really good reason given. Not all worked the same hours, they say. God is being unfair. God should not be giving the same wage; everyone should be treated according to their good works.
What these workers are saying is we should be treated individually. When justice is being dealt, we want our particular circumstances to be taken into consideration. This seems only fair. But then folks jump to the most outrageous conclusions when that individual treatment appears to show favoritism or ignores perceived justice. That’s not fair. I deserve more or less than those others. So, we go back to the basics. Treat ever one the same.
But we cannot ignore how we are programmed. ‘The early bird gets the worm.’ ‘Get to work early and work hard. That’s a sure path to success.’ On and on.
The vineyard boss should pay attention to the best worker, the first one into the vineyard in the morning and the last one to leave at night. Those first into the vineyard should be the first in line to get their pay. The boss will surely pay them what they deserve.
Only, according to this morning’s gospel, those who get to work last will be first and the first to work will be last! Wait. What happened? The old ways of thinking about early birds, working long and hard will get you nowhere! Seriously! Surely something is wrong. This won’t work. It’s not fair.
And, it gets worse. Those at the end of the line will not only be paid first, they will be paid as much as those at the front. This is just so unfair. What was Jesus thinking? There is really going to be trouble over this!
Then the landowner reminds the workers. First, this is my vineyard. Second, I have paid you exactly what I said I would. Third, what business is it of yours what I pay the other workers? From his perspective, if he wants to be generous with his money should the workers begrudge his generosity?
Yes indeed. They do begrudge his generosity. They have a strong sense of what is fair, what is right and what is not. Equal pay for equal work is fair. Equal pay for unequal work is not fair. Paying top dollar to those who do the most work is fair. Paying top dollar to those who do the least work is not fair. Treating everyone the same when they are is fair. Treating everyone the same when they are not is not fair.
If life and work, mom and dad, the law and school, and church, are not going to be fair at least God should be. God should be the one sovereign authority whom we can count on to reward us according to our efforts, who knows when we have been naughty and nice, who knows how hard we have worked and who keeps those most deserving in the front of the line where they belong and then rewards them accordingly. Life may not be fair, but God should be.
It may be disturbing at first to hear this morning that this is not so. We believe God should reward us according to our efforts, our good works and according to what we believe we deserve. But it will not be so according to this morning’s gospel.
This householder, this landlord, this God puts the same amount of money into the hands of those who arrived last and worked least. And God starts at the end of the line on payday where those who gave the least effort stood.
Can you imagine the cheering, the laughter and back slapping back there at the end of the line when those there realized what was happening? While near the front, with the first and the most, there is loud grumbling and even hostility.
Everyone is paid. They are paid the same. But how it is received depends entirely on what each of us believes we deserve. Those of us who receive more than we feel we deserve are jubilant. Those who receive less are furious.
Not only does our response depend on what we believe we deserve, it also depends on where we are in the pay line. The majority of us would argue we have been short changed, After all, we are the ones who deserve the most, we are good Christians, we work hard at being faithful, we come to church, we give, we say our prayers, our sins are just so tiny compared to most people, we feel sorry for the homeless as we check to see that our door is locked when they walk up to our car asking for a handout. We feel sorry for the poor in areas of devastation as we avoid the alley ways in certain parts of Austin.
It is entirely possible that we are mistaken about where we are in line. It is entirely possible that, as far as God is concerned, we are, at best, halfway around the block from the front of the line and that there are all sorts of people ahead of us. Other folk who are far more deserving of God’s love than we. People who have many more stars in their crowns than we will ever have. They are at the front of the line, and we are near the end of it for all sorts of reasons.
I don’t mean to be pointing fingers here. There are so many things we mean to do and so many we mean not to do. Even when we do our best, things get in the way; people get sick, businesses fail, relationships go down the drain. There are a lot of reasons why people wind up at the end of the line and only God can sort that out.
But suppose for a moment that it is you back there and me too. I know you don’t want to be alone, surrounded by strangers, people who don’t understand you, friends who don’t care for you, loved ones who might abandon you. We are all there. And when we least expect it the paymaster faces the line and says, ‘We are starting at the end of the line today’ and God hands you your ticket and every one of us around you receives theirs and all of us near the end of the line begin to cheer. We begin to cheer for we realize God’s saving grace comes even to sinners like us. No matter the hour, God’s forgives, and God blesses us with God’s grace. No matter when we first went to work and began to believe and give our life to Jesus our salvation is the same as the saints. Our salvation is the same as the death bed converts.
We don’t know why, God seems to love us indiscriminately and seems to enjoy reversing the systems we set up to explain why God should love some of us more than others of us. By our standards, God may not seem fair or just, but for those of us who stand near the back of the line this sounds like very good news. Because then there is a chance we will receive from God much more than we are worth, that we will get far more than we deserve, not because of who we are but because of who God is.
God is fair and God is just. Not by our standards but by Gods. By those standards God is forgiving, loving and generous even to those who are late coming to the vineyard. And God extends that same grace to ones as undeserving as you and me and for that reason there is a very good chance that the cheers and back slapping, the laughter and gratitude will turn out to be directed to the least of these, found by our God, right back here where we belong.
In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. One God, now and forever. Amen.
091811.gpc
Monday, September 12, 2011
11 September 2011 ‘Judgment Set Aside’ Matthew 18:21-35
It is not unusual in this day and time to find people who lead perfectly normal lives despite their shortcomings in mathematics. I know many of you are skilled in the areas of math. Many did just fine in high school algebra or college calculus or some other twisted mind numbing formulaic learning.
But there are some of us who just don’t understand beyond simple addition, subtraction, multiplication and division. My first arithmetic nightmare was in elementary school. It stopped being fun when I tried to learn the multiplication tables? The nines just about did me in…
I shuddered with this memory, and others, when faced this morning with more math. Peter asks Jesus, “Lord, how often should I forgive my brother and sister who sins against me? Seven times? No, he says, and then we have this really bad flashback as Jesus responds with a geometrically progressive figure, not seven times, but, seventy-seven times.
It is also not unusual in this day and time to find people who lead perfectly normal lives despite struggling to try and understand the moral to every story found in scripture. This mornings’ parable of the unforgiving servant is an example.
There is this king who wants to settle accounts with his slaves. One in particular owes so much he deserves to be sold to pay his debt. The king is ready to give him what he deserves then changes his mind when the slave talks the king into feeling pity for him. The king changes his mind and actually forgives the entire debt, clearly not what the servant deserves. Then, you guessed it, the king changes his mind again, becomes angry with the servant and turns him over to be tortured until he would repay his entire debt.
Wedged in the middle we read of this slaves’ refusal to return the same mercy he had just received to a fellow slave who owed him money. Once forgiven, his mistake was to not return the favor.
Next in the scripture we read this, “So my heavenly Father will also do to every one of you, if you do not forgive your brother or sister from your heart.”
Brennan Manning has written an interesting book titled, “The Ragamuffin Gospel.” In it he tells a personal story, “On a blustery October night in a church outside Minneapolis, several hundred believers had gathered for a three-day seminar. I began with a one-hour presentation on the gospel of grace and the reality of salvation. Using Scripture, story, symbolism, and personal experience, I focused on the total sufficiency of the redeeming work of Jesus Christ on Calvary. The service ended with a song and a prayer. Leaving the church by a side door, the local pastor turned to his associate and fumed, “Humph, that airhead didn’t say one thing about what we have to do to earn our salvation!”
The author goes on to say, “I hear in his fuming the clear impression that the pastor believes salvation is something we earn. And if we ignore this truth, we will get exactly what we deserve.” It is not unusual in this day and time to find people who lead perfectly normal lives who would agree completely.
At the beginning of the gospel story, when the king initially decided to sell his slave to pay his debt, I didn’t want to see the servant go to jail. Like me, you may have felt sorry for him. Poor little slave being ruined by the big powerful king. But, by the end of the story, when this once forgiven servant socks it to his fellow slave, we are delighted to see him led off to get what he deserves. Where we once would have appealed for clemency, for generosity even, we now applaud with vengeance in our hearts when the slave is punished for his own injustices.
By the end of the story, there is actually no difference between the selfish little servant and the big forceful king. At least the king showed he had a soft side. The servant on the other hand had no nice side in him at all. In the end, they both are the sorts of person who repay injustice with punishment. Many of us would be ok with this story. We could easily explain, this is just the way the world works.
Perhaps this is the point the pastor was making in the story from the Ragamuffin Gospel. We know about grace and salvation, we just need to know what we have to do to earn them!
Then again, it seems obvious, to earn something we have to do something. And if we don’t do something, we won’t get paid. We will then get what we deserve, nothing. We know the slogans, “There is no free lunch”, “You want money, work for it”, You want mercy, show you deserve it”, “Do unto others before they do unto you”, “God loves good little boys and girls”. Oops, did I sneak that last one in?
If we must be a good little boy or girl before God will love us, well, we may be doomed. This may be a formula none of us will ever live up to. Clearly, if it is up to us, we will get what we deserve and it won’t be pretty.
Yet, we try. Even in this morning’s gospel, Peter asks Jesus for us about being a good little boy or girl. “Lord, if another member of the church sins against me, how often should I forgive? As many as seven times? Jesus said to him, “Not seven times, but, I tell you, seventy-seven times.” Jesus’ answer is clear. There is to be no magic formula, no limit to our forgiveness. Forgiveness is to become for us a way of life that never ends!
Ouch! I wonder, has Jesus gone too far with us this time? The world is a rough place. The news is not filled with stories of justice and forgiveness. This world is often a bloody, exceedingly dangerous, and revenge filled place. We remember 9/11. We know all too vividly, terrorism has no limits. Genocide has occurred during our lifetime, this very moment groups of people live in eternal cycles of vengeance and violence, Arab-Israeli, rich-poor, brown-white, have-have not.
The harsh truth of Jesus’ story this morning is that in our secret satisfaction as the servant is led to get what he deserves, we are probably no worse, but certainly no better than he. From this moment forth, however, we know the moral of the story. And that should make all the difference. It is clear from verse thirty -five, “So my heavenly Father will also do to every one of you if you do not forgive your brother or sister from your heart.” How many times? That’s right, the days of playing the “I don’t like math” card are over. Jesus is proposing a new response to a common place story of seemingly deserved judgment. Jesus is offering forgiveness as a new model, a new formula, one that has no limit.
Jesus is actually offering much more. Forgiveness is not the end all. Forgiveness is a small example of a much larger gift from God; Jesus is offering us hope, eternal grace, eternal salvation, and eternal joy.
These past few Sundays we have heard Jesus in the scriptures talking at length about what relationships in the Christian community are like. By now it should be obvious, Jesus is making the point over and over again, the most important thing in the world is the life of this community. In this community, if we want to be members of it, we are called to do everything in our power to nourish and strengthen the bonds of love within us, and between us.
We cannot do that if we are like the rest of the world, repaying injustice with punishment, being the ‘give them what they deserve” police. Scripture is clear, life is not about being a good little boy or girl to earn God’s love. God doesn’t keep score and we shouldn’t either.
Truth is, some times we have forgotten what it is like to be forgiven – from the heart, to have our record scrubbed clean, our name removed from the ledger with no chance of the score ever being kept again. We forever bury that feeling when we keep score with others or when we search for ways to earn our own forgiveness, our own salvation, our own love.
Truth is, it is just not up to us, it is just not of our own doing. All we have ever been able to do is ask for it, for forgiveness, for salvation, for God’s love – and when it has been given, it has come to us from outside ourselves, from another, from God alone, and most importantly it is, we forget, a free gift. A free gift from someone we have hurt, someone to whom we are in debt, but someone who has decided that what is more important than getting even, is to forgive us and stay always in relationship with us and give us hope beyond ourselves.
The story is told that when the Civil War ended a group gathered outside the White House and President Lincoln came out to say a few words to the crowd. It was a great time of celebration. A band was there. The President talked briefly about the horrors of war and then he joked a little because he had a great sense of humor. The people were delighted and exuberant that they had won the war that had been going on for four years. Lincoln talked about how important it was to get back together and heal the nation’s wounds and let brothers and sisters join each other once again. Then he said, “In a few moments, I want the band to play and I am going to tell them what I want them to play.”
The crowd thought he would get them to play “The Battle Hymn of the Republic” that had become their theme song. But Mr. Lincoln said, “I wonder if we, in winning the war, have the right now to play that music again…if maybe that would not be appropriate”. That should have been a clue to what he was going to say. Because he turned to the band and said, “Now this is what I want you to play – I want you to play Dixie.” The band almost dropped their instruments. For a minute they just stood there with the crowd open mouthed. The looked at one another. They didn’t have the music to Dixie. They hadn’t played Dixie in quite a while.
Then after a long pause the band finally got together and they played Dixie. There wasn’t a dry eye in the crowd.
With the wisdom and love of Jesus Christ as our example, having heard him say as he hung from the cross, “Father, forgive them, they know not what they are doing”, we are in the unique position this morning to get back together with those we have been separated from, to heal all wounds needing forgiveness, and to let brothers and sisters join each other once again. Forgiving seventy times seven.
It is quite a unique position we are in this morning and what a rare and wonderful God who loves us. For our God never retaliates, our God is always forgiving and remembering our sins no more, and though our God has given us our cross to bear, especially on this anniversary of 9/11, God is praying, that despite ourselves, we too will live a life of forgiveness equal to his.
In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever. Amen
091111.gpc
But there are some of us who just don’t understand beyond simple addition, subtraction, multiplication and division. My first arithmetic nightmare was in elementary school. It stopped being fun when I tried to learn the multiplication tables? The nines just about did me in…
I shuddered with this memory, and others, when faced this morning with more math. Peter asks Jesus, “Lord, how often should I forgive my brother and sister who sins against me? Seven times? No, he says, and then we have this really bad flashback as Jesus responds with a geometrically progressive figure, not seven times, but, seventy-seven times.
It is also not unusual in this day and time to find people who lead perfectly normal lives despite struggling to try and understand the moral to every story found in scripture. This mornings’ parable of the unforgiving servant is an example.
There is this king who wants to settle accounts with his slaves. One in particular owes so much he deserves to be sold to pay his debt. The king is ready to give him what he deserves then changes his mind when the slave talks the king into feeling pity for him. The king changes his mind and actually forgives the entire debt, clearly not what the servant deserves. Then, you guessed it, the king changes his mind again, becomes angry with the servant and turns him over to be tortured until he would repay his entire debt.
Wedged in the middle we read of this slaves’ refusal to return the same mercy he had just received to a fellow slave who owed him money. Once forgiven, his mistake was to not return the favor.
Next in the scripture we read this, “So my heavenly Father will also do to every one of you, if you do not forgive your brother or sister from your heart.”
Brennan Manning has written an interesting book titled, “The Ragamuffin Gospel.” In it he tells a personal story, “On a blustery October night in a church outside Minneapolis, several hundred believers had gathered for a three-day seminar. I began with a one-hour presentation on the gospel of grace and the reality of salvation. Using Scripture, story, symbolism, and personal experience, I focused on the total sufficiency of the redeeming work of Jesus Christ on Calvary. The service ended with a song and a prayer. Leaving the church by a side door, the local pastor turned to his associate and fumed, “Humph, that airhead didn’t say one thing about what we have to do to earn our salvation!”
The author goes on to say, “I hear in his fuming the clear impression that the pastor believes salvation is something we earn. And if we ignore this truth, we will get exactly what we deserve.” It is not unusual in this day and time to find people who lead perfectly normal lives who would agree completely.
At the beginning of the gospel story, when the king initially decided to sell his slave to pay his debt, I didn’t want to see the servant go to jail. Like me, you may have felt sorry for him. Poor little slave being ruined by the big powerful king. But, by the end of the story, when this once forgiven servant socks it to his fellow slave, we are delighted to see him led off to get what he deserves. Where we once would have appealed for clemency, for generosity even, we now applaud with vengeance in our hearts when the slave is punished for his own injustices.
By the end of the story, there is actually no difference between the selfish little servant and the big forceful king. At least the king showed he had a soft side. The servant on the other hand had no nice side in him at all. In the end, they both are the sorts of person who repay injustice with punishment. Many of us would be ok with this story. We could easily explain, this is just the way the world works.
Perhaps this is the point the pastor was making in the story from the Ragamuffin Gospel. We know about grace and salvation, we just need to know what we have to do to earn them!
Then again, it seems obvious, to earn something we have to do something. And if we don’t do something, we won’t get paid. We will then get what we deserve, nothing. We know the slogans, “There is no free lunch”, “You want money, work for it”, You want mercy, show you deserve it”, “Do unto others before they do unto you”, “God loves good little boys and girls”. Oops, did I sneak that last one in?
If we must be a good little boy or girl before God will love us, well, we may be doomed. This may be a formula none of us will ever live up to. Clearly, if it is up to us, we will get what we deserve and it won’t be pretty.
Yet, we try. Even in this morning’s gospel, Peter asks Jesus for us about being a good little boy or girl. “Lord, if another member of the church sins against me, how often should I forgive? As many as seven times? Jesus said to him, “Not seven times, but, I tell you, seventy-seven times.” Jesus’ answer is clear. There is to be no magic formula, no limit to our forgiveness. Forgiveness is to become for us a way of life that never ends!
Ouch! I wonder, has Jesus gone too far with us this time? The world is a rough place. The news is not filled with stories of justice and forgiveness. This world is often a bloody, exceedingly dangerous, and revenge filled place. We remember 9/11. We know all too vividly, terrorism has no limits. Genocide has occurred during our lifetime, this very moment groups of people live in eternal cycles of vengeance and violence, Arab-Israeli, rich-poor, brown-white, have-have not.
The harsh truth of Jesus’ story this morning is that in our secret satisfaction as the servant is led to get what he deserves, we are probably no worse, but certainly no better than he. From this moment forth, however, we know the moral of the story. And that should make all the difference. It is clear from verse thirty -five, “So my heavenly Father will also do to every one of you if you do not forgive your brother or sister from your heart.” How many times? That’s right, the days of playing the “I don’t like math” card are over. Jesus is proposing a new response to a common place story of seemingly deserved judgment. Jesus is offering forgiveness as a new model, a new formula, one that has no limit.
Jesus is actually offering much more. Forgiveness is not the end all. Forgiveness is a small example of a much larger gift from God; Jesus is offering us hope, eternal grace, eternal salvation, and eternal joy.
These past few Sundays we have heard Jesus in the scriptures talking at length about what relationships in the Christian community are like. By now it should be obvious, Jesus is making the point over and over again, the most important thing in the world is the life of this community. In this community, if we want to be members of it, we are called to do everything in our power to nourish and strengthen the bonds of love within us, and between us.
We cannot do that if we are like the rest of the world, repaying injustice with punishment, being the ‘give them what they deserve” police. Scripture is clear, life is not about being a good little boy or girl to earn God’s love. God doesn’t keep score and we shouldn’t either.
Truth is, some times we have forgotten what it is like to be forgiven – from the heart, to have our record scrubbed clean, our name removed from the ledger with no chance of the score ever being kept again. We forever bury that feeling when we keep score with others or when we search for ways to earn our own forgiveness, our own salvation, our own love.
Truth is, it is just not up to us, it is just not of our own doing. All we have ever been able to do is ask for it, for forgiveness, for salvation, for God’s love – and when it has been given, it has come to us from outside ourselves, from another, from God alone, and most importantly it is, we forget, a free gift. A free gift from someone we have hurt, someone to whom we are in debt, but someone who has decided that what is more important than getting even, is to forgive us and stay always in relationship with us and give us hope beyond ourselves.
The story is told that when the Civil War ended a group gathered outside the White House and President Lincoln came out to say a few words to the crowd. It was a great time of celebration. A band was there. The President talked briefly about the horrors of war and then he joked a little because he had a great sense of humor. The people were delighted and exuberant that they had won the war that had been going on for four years. Lincoln talked about how important it was to get back together and heal the nation’s wounds and let brothers and sisters join each other once again. Then he said, “In a few moments, I want the band to play and I am going to tell them what I want them to play.”
The crowd thought he would get them to play “The Battle Hymn of the Republic” that had become their theme song. But Mr. Lincoln said, “I wonder if we, in winning the war, have the right now to play that music again…if maybe that would not be appropriate”. That should have been a clue to what he was going to say. Because he turned to the band and said, “Now this is what I want you to play – I want you to play Dixie.” The band almost dropped their instruments. For a minute they just stood there with the crowd open mouthed. The looked at one another. They didn’t have the music to Dixie. They hadn’t played Dixie in quite a while.
Then after a long pause the band finally got together and they played Dixie. There wasn’t a dry eye in the crowd.
With the wisdom and love of Jesus Christ as our example, having heard him say as he hung from the cross, “Father, forgive them, they know not what they are doing”, we are in the unique position this morning to get back together with those we have been separated from, to heal all wounds needing forgiveness, and to let brothers and sisters join each other once again. Forgiving seventy times seven.
It is quite a unique position we are in this morning and what a rare and wonderful God who loves us. For our God never retaliates, our God is always forgiving and remembering our sins no more, and though our God has given us our cross to bear, especially on this anniversary of 9/11, God is praying, that despite ourselves, we too will live a life of forgiveness equal to his.
In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever. Amen
091111.gpc
Monday, September 5, 2011
04 September 2011 “Forgiveness” Matthew 18:15-20
In our travels Janet and I always have an eye out for a bookstore. Usually the antique shops are closed. But bookstores are always open. We can happily spend hours hanging out in bookstores. Actually we do more than just hang out. We buy books on a fairly regular basis. Just ask our kids about the boxes of books they moved for us in the past.
One of our favorite bookstores is in the Heights in Houston near Rice University. It is called Murder by the Book. If you are a mystery lover you would be in mystery book heaven at Murder by the Book.
We also like to watch mystery movies. Hercule Poirot is a favorite, or Miss Jane Marple. We like Brother Cadfile or the newer Jesse Stone mysteries. There are many we enjoy though Janet wasn’t too keen on the new Sherlock Holmes.
Our favorite television channels for mysteries are Masterpiece Theatre and, surprisingly, the Hallmark channel.
One particularly good show from the Hallmark Channel was “Harvest of Fire.” It is the story of an FBI agent, Sally, who is looking into several barn burnings in Amish country. The ending was a surprise to me though not to Janet. She often figures out ‘who did it’ before I have a clue. My impression for the longest was this story was about a hate crime against the Amish. As you will hear, I was lost in my world of assumptions.
There were several plots and twists and turns in the story, which makes for great intrigue. Just what you want in a good mystery. The life of the Amish was portrayed honestly and added a unique perspective not seen in many mysteries.
I was struck by how the Amish way of life meshed with their religion. It was interesting to see their faith centered in their family life and to learn how their life as a community of believers was formed by that faith .
Centrality of faith in family life and especially in the life of the community of believers unfolded for us in Matthews Gospel reading this morning as once again Jesus has something to teach us. His intention, I believe, is to teach a clear ethical and moral truth.
Jesus says, ‘If any member of the church sins against you, go and point out the fault when the two of you are alone.’ Apparently Jesus feels we must take our concerns for sin or for fault with another to that person and speak with them. Hardly novel, Jesus believes we should learn to talk with one another. Especially when we have challenges or problems in our relationships.
Isn’t this good advice for being in any relationship whether a problem or not occurs, whether it is personal or corporate, intimate or religious. Isn’t this good advice when miscommunication or hurt feelings occur? Admittedly, it is difficult to gather the strength sometimes to talk things out.
In the Amish home and in the Amish community honesty and truth-telling were essential to being faithful to Jesus’ teaching about how we glorify God. In “Harvest of Fire,” Sally, our FBI agent, was searching for just that, the truth.
She began to notice the affection one particular young man, Sam, had for one particular young lady, Rachael. She learned the young ladies mother had forbidden Rachael to see Sam. Yet they met. They met until Rachael realized her dishonesty and told Sam she could not see him because she did not want to continue to disobey her mother. Her love for him was tempered by her love for her mother and her duty to obey and be honest.
I sense in Jesus’ teaching and in our mystery movie an underlying call to ethical behavior in the role of friendship in telling the truth.
The early Greek philosopher Aristotle saw virtue in friendship and even argued for friendship as the basis for all ethical or moral behavior. Gone wrong, he pointed out, untrue friendship could become the excuse for immoral behavior when friends do not act like true friends.
A true friend, as Jesus says, will go and point out the fault if another member of the church, sins against you. An untrue friend will offer a weak excuse. ‘Who am I to judge?’ ‘If I stay out of your life, you will stay out of mine.’
Jesus is telling us, ‘My friend, this is no friend.’ “If you are not listened to, take one or two others along with you…if the member refuses to listen to them, tell it to the church.”
Our community of the faithful is in jeopardy when we avoid our responsibility as a true friend. There is no friendship without truthfulness. There is no truthfulness without judgment. The act of telling the truth is actually an act of the deepest love.
In the Christian community we need one another. To be family with one another we must work together. Jesus’ message is straight forward, to work rightly as a Church, as a family, we must go to those with whom we are having difficulty and we must talk.
There it is again, we must talk with one another. But, talking can be painful. Personally I will go to great lengths to avoid a verbal fight with someone. I know, just to talk doesn’t mean it’s always going to turn out with tension or shouting. But there is that chance.
Seldom do we find someone who enjoys confrontation and it just seems to us that to go and talk, even with a friend, about a fault or a sin committed is a sure recipe for losing that friend. How often, I wonder, do we avoid telling the truth because we do not want to risk our relationship with the one who has offended us.
Rachael, in “Harvest of Fire,” did not want to tell her mother she had been seeing the forbidden young man, Sam. She did not want to disappoint her mother with her disobedience. She did not want to risk losing her mothers trust. So she kept quiet about it.
Sam, we soon discover, is not being completely truthful with Rachael. He had something to hide too. His father, Jacob, had been shunned by their church for being prideful. In the past Jacob had built a barn that was not in compliance with the Amish way for barn-design restrictions and his actions were deemed prideful and unacceptable to the elders.
Obedience to the ruling elders, in things both great and small, was essential for the survival of the Amish faith community. If Jacob would not follow one rule they felt there was the danger he might not follow others and thus contaminate them all with disobedience. So he was shunned. Sam was angry with the elders as was his father. Their strained relationship with the church community was also tearing them apart.
Sally, the FBI agent, had been watching for clues to the identity of the barn burner. She was learning about the Amish by actually living in one of their homes. They were teaching her a lot about love and duty and commitment to family and to community. And they were teaching her about the need to be a true friend when someone like Jacob disobeyed their rules, sinned against them, and needed to hear the truth. In their community, for sin, for fault, there were consequences.
What the community expects and deserves at this point is repentance, repentance from the one who has sinned and fallen away from the community. What the community does not need is defiance. Defiance hampers forgiveness, and worse yet, may lead to the death of the community.
In the midst of this chaos relationships are lost, real relationships. If the church is a place of truthfulness, and I think it is, the church is the place where keeping the family together and maintaining relationships is worth the risk of being truthful.
There is no doubt that to tell the truth may risk a relationship. But to not tell the truth may risk the loss of the family, the community, or the church. It is with this fear of loss before us that we discover the path to restored relationships begins when we seek repentance.
In our barn burning mystery it came out that Sam, the young man whose father had been shunned, had set the barn fires in retaliation for the injustice he felt the church elders had done to his family. When the FBI investigator , Sally, confronted him and his father with their sin she unknowingly made the first step to repentance possible. She helped them begin to restore their relationship with their faith community. The restoration took on meaning when Sam went before everyone and confessed his sin and asked for forgiveness.
Jean Vanier, founder of L’Arche, an international federation of communities for people with mental or physical disabilities, once said, “Community is a continual act of forgiveness.”
At first when the investigator accused him of burning the barns Sam denied it, but then his moral beliefs took over and he confessed to his bishop before the entire congregation as they were raising a new born in place of one of the ones he had burned. And then the miracle, by God’s grace, the community did not abandon him. Their bishop defined God’s grace when he said, “Despise the sin, not the sinner.” In solidarity they accepted his cry for forgiveness and as community they all stood to be with him and walked with him as he was being taken away to trial.
There is a great lesson in this young man’s response to having his sin made public. He did not defend himself against the charge regardless of the cost; he did not forsake his relationships in favor of nursing his own hurt feelings or wounded pride.
No, our lesson this morning is to know that the reason to take Jesus’ advice is to learn our talking things out is the first step to winning back a relationship that is in danger of being lost. The reason Jesus teaches us to be truthful to our friends is to help us restore our relationship with them. Our goal is reconciliation not retribution. Community is a continual act of forgiveness.
With a goal to gain or regain our sister or brother in Christ our actions require a specific response. Jesus’ is clear about that. Our truth lived in forgiveness will reveal the true nature of our relationship with our friends in Christ. If we are a true friend that is.
I sense two things in Matthew this morning that I saw in those Amish people. First in shunning they took a stand and told a member of their flock, “ No, you have done wrong against God and against your church family.” There is a consequence for that. They told the truth about sin.
Secondly, they teach us about forgiveness when one repents. The Amish did not learn this by themselves. They learned it from Jesus. Jesus Christ tells the truth about our sin and, when we are contrite of heart, he forgives us as we are to forgive one another.
Jesus also promises that where two or three are gathered he is there with us. Jesus gathers with us for he expects that when we tell the truth we will risk relationships. Knowing the danger, Jesus stands with us. As we seek repentance over punishment, as we offer and receive forgiveness, Jesus is our ever present help. He made that clear up there on the cross as he said “Father forgive them for they know not what they do.” Dear friends, community is a continual act of forgiveness.
In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever. Amen
Additional helps:
Barbara Brown Taylor, “The Seeds of Heaven.”
090411.gpc
One of our favorite bookstores is in the Heights in Houston near Rice University. It is called Murder by the Book. If you are a mystery lover you would be in mystery book heaven at Murder by the Book.
We also like to watch mystery movies. Hercule Poirot is a favorite, or Miss Jane Marple. We like Brother Cadfile or the newer Jesse Stone mysteries. There are many we enjoy though Janet wasn’t too keen on the new Sherlock Holmes.
Our favorite television channels for mysteries are Masterpiece Theatre and, surprisingly, the Hallmark channel.
One particularly good show from the Hallmark Channel was “Harvest of Fire.” It is the story of an FBI agent, Sally, who is looking into several barn burnings in Amish country. The ending was a surprise to me though not to Janet. She often figures out ‘who did it’ before I have a clue. My impression for the longest was this story was about a hate crime against the Amish. As you will hear, I was lost in my world of assumptions.
There were several plots and twists and turns in the story, which makes for great intrigue. Just what you want in a good mystery. The life of the Amish was portrayed honestly and added a unique perspective not seen in many mysteries.
I was struck by how the Amish way of life meshed with their religion. It was interesting to see their faith centered in their family life and to learn how their life as a community of believers was formed by that faith .
Centrality of faith in family life and especially in the life of the community of believers unfolded for us in Matthews Gospel reading this morning as once again Jesus has something to teach us. His intention, I believe, is to teach a clear ethical and moral truth.
Jesus says, ‘If any member of the church sins against you, go and point out the fault when the two of you are alone.’ Apparently Jesus feels we must take our concerns for sin or for fault with another to that person and speak with them. Hardly novel, Jesus believes we should learn to talk with one another. Especially when we have challenges or problems in our relationships.
Isn’t this good advice for being in any relationship whether a problem or not occurs, whether it is personal or corporate, intimate or religious. Isn’t this good advice when miscommunication or hurt feelings occur? Admittedly, it is difficult to gather the strength sometimes to talk things out.
In the Amish home and in the Amish community honesty and truth-telling were essential to being faithful to Jesus’ teaching about how we glorify God. In “Harvest of Fire,” Sally, our FBI agent, was searching for just that, the truth.
She began to notice the affection one particular young man, Sam, had for one particular young lady, Rachael. She learned the young ladies mother had forbidden Rachael to see Sam. Yet they met. They met until Rachael realized her dishonesty and told Sam she could not see him because she did not want to continue to disobey her mother. Her love for him was tempered by her love for her mother and her duty to obey and be honest.
I sense in Jesus’ teaching and in our mystery movie an underlying call to ethical behavior in the role of friendship in telling the truth.
The early Greek philosopher Aristotle saw virtue in friendship and even argued for friendship as the basis for all ethical or moral behavior. Gone wrong, he pointed out, untrue friendship could become the excuse for immoral behavior when friends do not act like true friends.
A true friend, as Jesus says, will go and point out the fault if another member of the church, sins against you. An untrue friend will offer a weak excuse. ‘Who am I to judge?’ ‘If I stay out of your life, you will stay out of mine.’
Jesus is telling us, ‘My friend, this is no friend.’ “If you are not listened to, take one or two others along with you…if the member refuses to listen to them, tell it to the church.”
Our community of the faithful is in jeopardy when we avoid our responsibility as a true friend. There is no friendship without truthfulness. There is no truthfulness without judgment. The act of telling the truth is actually an act of the deepest love.
In the Christian community we need one another. To be family with one another we must work together. Jesus’ message is straight forward, to work rightly as a Church, as a family, we must go to those with whom we are having difficulty and we must talk.
There it is again, we must talk with one another. But, talking can be painful. Personally I will go to great lengths to avoid a verbal fight with someone. I know, just to talk doesn’t mean it’s always going to turn out with tension or shouting. But there is that chance.
Seldom do we find someone who enjoys confrontation and it just seems to us that to go and talk, even with a friend, about a fault or a sin committed is a sure recipe for losing that friend. How often, I wonder, do we avoid telling the truth because we do not want to risk our relationship with the one who has offended us.
Rachael, in “Harvest of Fire,” did not want to tell her mother she had been seeing the forbidden young man, Sam. She did not want to disappoint her mother with her disobedience. She did not want to risk losing her mothers trust. So she kept quiet about it.
Sam, we soon discover, is not being completely truthful with Rachael. He had something to hide too. His father, Jacob, had been shunned by their church for being prideful. In the past Jacob had built a barn that was not in compliance with the Amish way for barn-design restrictions and his actions were deemed prideful and unacceptable to the elders.
Obedience to the ruling elders, in things both great and small, was essential for the survival of the Amish faith community. If Jacob would not follow one rule they felt there was the danger he might not follow others and thus contaminate them all with disobedience. So he was shunned. Sam was angry with the elders as was his father. Their strained relationship with the church community was also tearing them apart.
Sally, the FBI agent, had been watching for clues to the identity of the barn burner. She was learning about the Amish by actually living in one of their homes. They were teaching her a lot about love and duty and commitment to family and to community. And they were teaching her about the need to be a true friend when someone like Jacob disobeyed their rules, sinned against them, and needed to hear the truth. In their community, for sin, for fault, there were consequences.
What the community expects and deserves at this point is repentance, repentance from the one who has sinned and fallen away from the community. What the community does not need is defiance. Defiance hampers forgiveness, and worse yet, may lead to the death of the community.
In the midst of this chaos relationships are lost, real relationships. If the church is a place of truthfulness, and I think it is, the church is the place where keeping the family together and maintaining relationships is worth the risk of being truthful.
There is no doubt that to tell the truth may risk a relationship. But to not tell the truth may risk the loss of the family, the community, or the church. It is with this fear of loss before us that we discover the path to restored relationships begins when we seek repentance.
In our barn burning mystery it came out that Sam, the young man whose father had been shunned, had set the barn fires in retaliation for the injustice he felt the church elders had done to his family. When the FBI investigator , Sally, confronted him and his father with their sin she unknowingly made the first step to repentance possible. She helped them begin to restore their relationship with their faith community. The restoration took on meaning when Sam went before everyone and confessed his sin and asked for forgiveness.
Jean Vanier, founder of L’Arche, an international federation of communities for people with mental or physical disabilities, once said, “Community is a continual act of forgiveness.”
At first when the investigator accused him of burning the barns Sam denied it, but then his moral beliefs took over and he confessed to his bishop before the entire congregation as they were raising a new born in place of one of the ones he had burned. And then the miracle, by God’s grace, the community did not abandon him. Their bishop defined God’s grace when he said, “Despise the sin, not the sinner.” In solidarity they accepted his cry for forgiveness and as community they all stood to be with him and walked with him as he was being taken away to trial.
There is a great lesson in this young man’s response to having his sin made public. He did not defend himself against the charge regardless of the cost; he did not forsake his relationships in favor of nursing his own hurt feelings or wounded pride.
No, our lesson this morning is to know that the reason to take Jesus’ advice is to learn our talking things out is the first step to winning back a relationship that is in danger of being lost. The reason Jesus teaches us to be truthful to our friends is to help us restore our relationship with them. Our goal is reconciliation not retribution. Community is a continual act of forgiveness.
With a goal to gain or regain our sister or brother in Christ our actions require a specific response. Jesus’ is clear about that. Our truth lived in forgiveness will reveal the true nature of our relationship with our friends in Christ. If we are a true friend that is.
I sense two things in Matthew this morning that I saw in those Amish people. First in shunning they took a stand and told a member of their flock, “ No, you have done wrong against God and against your church family.” There is a consequence for that. They told the truth about sin.
Secondly, they teach us about forgiveness when one repents. The Amish did not learn this by themselves. They learned it from Jesus. Jesus Christ tells the truth about our sin and, when we are contrite of heart, he forgives us as we are to forgive one another.
Jesus also promises that where two or three are gathered he is there with us. Jesus gathers with us for he expects that when we tell the truth we will risk relationships. Knowing the danger, Jesus stands with us. As we seek repentance over punishment, as we offer and receive forgiveness, Jesus is our ever present help. He made that clear up there on the cross as he said “Father forgive them for they know not what they do.” Dear friends, community is a continual act of forgiveness.
In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever. Amen
Additional helps:
Barbara Brown Taylor, “The Seeds of Heaven.”
090411.gpc
Sunday, August 28, 2011
28 August 2011 "Peter Again” Matthew 16:21-28
Most mornings while I eat breakfast I read in the One Year Bible. Recently I was reading in the Old Testament about Job. I’m usually at a loss about Job. He was doing just fine until God let the devil test his faith. That test, which he passed, costs him everything. Bad news is followed by more bad news which is followed by really bad news. I wish somehow Job could have been spared from his pain. It seems to me he had done nothing to deserve the devil!
Still feeling for Job I read Matthew’s gospel for this morning’s sermon. I wish someone would have warned me. Now the bad news is for Jesus. It begins when he says he must go to Jerusalem where he will undergo great suffering and be killed. Then, more bad news, Peter gets into trouble when he tries to intervene. He innocently tries to help so his friend won’t have to suffer and die. But his attempt backfires. Then the really bad news. We learn that to be a disciple of Jesus we must deny ourselves and take up our cross.
It’s not good news about Jesus. And Peter, well he’s been in trouble before. But deny ourselves! Take up our cross! Surely we have done nothing to deserve the devil! We’ve worked hard, we’ve been true and faithful. Are we to now consider our success and wealth come at the cost of our soul! Is the news so bad this Sunday we are to become like Job and lose our lives to the devil? Where is the good news, we scream!
When bad news overwhelms us we respond in different ways. Sometimes we become angry, sometimes we look for someone to blame, sometimes we cry, and sometimes we feel sorry for ourselves. One thing we all have in common is our desire that somehow bad news will just go away, that someone will protect us and make life right. Sometimes we discover we are to be that someone.
There are certain times when we feel a duty to protect those we love. Good parents especially seem to feel this way and that is a very good thing. Our caring parents worked really hard at keeping us safe and out of harm’s way.
Others protect us too, those in law enforcement, fire protection, medical care, people like that. Truth is, we all have a roll to play in protecting those we love. We keep a lookout for potentially dangerous situations and we help one another. That is what people who love one another do. We help. Especially when we see that someone may be taking a risk we feel they need not take.
I wonder if Peters response to Jesus’ shockingly bad news was a response rooted in a deep love for him, a cry to not take a risk he doesn’t have to take and the desire on his part to shield Jesus from what awaited him in Jerusalem - great suffering and death.
While this may have been Peters intention, Jesus did not take it that way, he did not turn to him and say, ‘Oh, don’t worry about me friend, I’ll be alright. God is watching after me.’ No, Jesus reacts quite unexpectedly. “Get behind me Satan,” he says. Then he tells all his disciples, “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.”
Or did Jesus think Peters’ response was rooted in his own fear? Fear of loosing the person he loved more than anyone, fear of being left to do God’s work alone, or fear of being abandoned forever. We don’t know.
Perhaps it had nothing to do with Peter and everything to do with Jesus. Jesus’ response seems harsh. It is as if he tells Peter, ‘Don’ tell me what to do you Satan.’ Doesn’t Jesus know Peters response could save his life?
Ah, perhaps that is exactly the point. For those who want to save their life will lose it. Jesus has drawn his life to the core focus of his being and his reason for living. To save his life and ours he will offer his all. He will lose his life so we may realize ours. Jerusalem is the necessary way.
First of all Jesus wasn’t ASKING about Jerusalem, he was TELLING about Jerusalem. He was telling his disciples “I must go.” Jesus makes it clear, he is not being forced to go. He realizes Jerusalem is the path he must take to be the person Peter has declared him to be, Messiah. He realizes to suffer and die on the cross is his destiny, for he must be what he really was meant to be.
He has been a great moral teacher, a great prophet, and he has healed many people. But there is something greater ahead. Who do you say that I am? And Peter said, ‘You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God.” And because of who you are, there must be another way other than the road to Jerusalem. Jesus tells him, no, there is no other way and then the most painful truth, you are a stumbling block to me my friend!
As shocking as it is to Peter and to us, for Jesus to be Messiah ‘he must go’ to Jerusalem, suffer, and die. To find another way would radically change who he was.
It is also shocking to us that if we are to be Jesus’ disciple we too must go and take up our cross to follow him. For to find another way would radically change who we have been called to be. Beloved, there is no place for a limited and partial disciple in God’s kingdom. It is all or nothing for us.
All or nothing demands a high price. Jesus paid his and now we learn we must pay ours too. There is a road that awaits us. A road and a shadow. Suffering and a cross. Hard truths. We don’t save ourselves by holding on to ourselves. We don’t save ourselves at all.
When we give our life away we are living as a Christian disciple. We are living as Christ because to live only for comfort and safety is not living Jesus’ way. To be shielded from this way of denial and cross is to decide in favor of perceived comfort and safety and to decide against being who we are meant to be.
Living as we do in the near desert of central Texas we have discovered all too painfully this summer water is a valuable commodity. Life cannot be shut up and saved in comfort and safety any more than our waters from rain or rivers can be put in a mason jar to be kept in a kitchen cupboard only to be looked at. Water is not meant to be locked and stored away. It is to be drunk so that we may live, it is to water our earth so we will have food to eat, it is to enjoy in recreation and sport to give us quality in our life. It is to be poured out, to be moving, living water, rushing downstream to share its wealth without ever looking back.
Peter wanted to prevent Jesus’ life from being spilled and wasted, he wanted to save it, to preserve it, to find a safer, more comfortable way for Jesus to be Lord. What he did not see was that Jesus’ supply of life was never-ending.
In the midst of his angst Peter missed the good news. Jesus told him “…on the third day (he would) be raised.” Surely Peter missed that. Who Jesus was to be is woven into this first telling of what we call his passion prediction. Jesus was born to be God’s promised ‘anointed one’ who fulfilled the Old Testament prophecy. He was to be the anticipated king and deliverer who brings salvation to the world. You see, Jesus must go to Jerusalem and endure all the humiliation, suffering and death on that cross to be who WE need him to be. It is the only way we become who God needs us to be.
The disciples now know what Jesus had not told them before. They now know what he must do before he can truly be Messiah. And it must have scared the wits out of them. It must have scared them because this suffering and death was going to happen to one whom they dearly loved, one whom they had left everything for. One whom they desired to live like, loving their enemies, feeding the poor and the widow, forgiving sins, healing and curing the sick.
They had not bargained for the full deal. They had not realized the full cost of discipleship. Jesus was saying that where he goes, we must also go. Surely it cannot be that this is the cost disciples must pay. What kind of Messiah is this? The true Messiah wouldn’t let himself suffer and die such a humiliating death. And he certainly wouldn’t expect his followers to take the same path. Jesus cannot mean we are to take up our cross and follow him into death. Surely he must mean something else.
The minute we try to limit Jesus to something less than what he is meant to be we limit ourselves. For we are called to be full-time, all or nothing disciples. Not just when we are being like him as we teach and heal and make disciples. Not just when we are in our ‘Let’s fix the world’ mode. But even when we are called to pick up our cross and follow him to Calvary.
While Jesus’ cross was evident, ours are less so. We don’t take up a literal cross. We take up life and life is hard to pick up some days. We will suffer, evil lurks, we die and we are in the core of that storm. Yet, when we center our lives in Jesus’, when he becomes the core of our being, we have taken up the cross of life and we can only follow him for he is the light in our storm. True, living this way we lose our way. But living this way we are found by Jesus for whose sake our lives are found.
The stark reality of Jesus’ revealing his destiny to us in this mornings Gospel is that Jesus was about something bigger than the miracles he had performed, he was about something bigger than the fine moral life he was living as an example for us to follow. What Jesus was about was a love so deep he died that our sins would be forgiven and that we would realize God’s promise of eternal salvation for those who accept the invitation, “Come and follow me.”
Our challenge this morning is to follow that kind of savior. One who will not compromise on who he is called to be and who will not compromise on who he expects his disciples to be. Jesus was chosen by God to take up his cross and Jesus expects the same from us. This is the life to which we are called. This is the life that matters for Christ’ sake, not our own.
This just may be where we silence ourselves and slip into the shadows to go on to live a life that matter’s to us. Living Jesus’s way takes us beyond comfort and safety. We cannot deny the fear, it is real, but we need not let our fear stop us. It did not stop Jesus.
To become who God has called us to be means going beyond the limits we place on our lives with false securities. It means receiving our lives as gifts instead of guarding them as our own possessions. It means sharing the gifts we have been given instead of bottling them for our own consumption. It means giving up the notion that we can find another way to be a disciple of Christ that avoids giving our life, body and soul, to our Lord and Savior on his terms.
To be Jesus, our Christ took the road less traveled. His entire life was directed to that road and he took it. He took it and confronted the powers of evil. He was nailed to the cross, knew death first hand, breathed and bleed his last.
If we are to be his friends, his loved ones, and his disciples, where he goes we must go too. This is the way to the truth and the life. This is the way to the good news this world cannot give. There is no other way. If we doubt it we need only remember Job and then Jesus’ promise, “For the Son of Man is to come with his angels in the glory of his Father, and then he will repay everyone for what has been done…”
In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever. Amen
Additional helps:
Barbara Brown Taylor, “The Seeds of Heaven.”
082811.gpc
Still feeling for Job I read Matthew’s gospel for this morning’s sermon. I wish someone would have warned me. Now the bad news is for Jesus. It begins when he says he must go to Jerusalem where he will undergo great suffering and be killed. Then, more bad news, Peter gets into trouble when he tries to intervene. He innocently tries to help so his friend won’t have to suffer and die. But his attempt backfires. Then the really bad news. We learn that to be a disciple of Jesus we must deny ourselves and take up our cross.
It’s not good news about Jesus. And Peter, well he’s been in trouble before. But deny ourselves! Take up our cross! Surely we have done nothing to deserve the devil! We’ve worked hard, we’ve been true and faithful. Are we to now consider our success and wealth come at the cost of our soul! Is the news so bad this Sunday we are to become like Job and lose our lives to the devil? Where is the good news, we scream!
When bad news overwhelms us we respond in different ways. Sometimes we become angry, sometimes we look for someone to blame, sometimes we cry, and sometimes we feel sorry for ourselves. One thing we all have in common is our desire that somehow bad news will just go away, that someone will protect us and make life right. Sometimes we discover we are to be that someone.
There are certain times when we feel a duty to protect those we love. Good parents especially seem to feel this way and that is a very good thing. Our caring parents worked really hard at keeping us safe and out of harm’s way.
Others protect us too, those in law enforcement, fire protection, medical care, people like that. Truth is, we all have a roll to play in protecting those we love. We keep a lookout for potentially dangerous situations and we help one another. That is what people who love one another do. We help. Especially when we see that someone may be taking a risk we feel they need not take.
I wonder if Peters response to Jesus’ shockingly bad news was a response rooted in a deep love for him, a cry to not take a risk he doesn’t have to take and the desire on his part to shield Jesus from what awaited him in Jerusalem - great suffering and death.
While this may have been Peters intention, Jesus did not take it that way, he did not turn to him and say, ‘Oh, don’t worry about me friend, I’ll be alright. God is watching after me.’ No, Jesus reacts quite unexpectedly. “Get behind me Satan,” he says. Then he tells all his disciples, “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.”
Or did Jesus think Peters’ response was rooted in his own fear? Fear of loosing the person he loved more than anyone, fear of being left to do God’s work alone, or fear of being abandoned forever. We don’t know.
Perhaps it had nothing to do with Peter and everything to do with Jesus. Jesus’ response seems harsh. It is as if he tells Peter, ‘Don’ tell me what to do you Satan.’ Doesn’t Jesus know Peters response could save his life?
Ah, perhaps that is exactly the point. For those who want to save their life will lose it. Jesus has drawn his life to the core focus of his being and his reason for living. To save his life and ours he will offer his all. He will lose his life so we may realize ours. Jerusalem is the necessary way.
First of all Jesus wasn’t ASKING about Jerusalem, he was TELLING about Jerusalem. He was telling his disciples “I must go.” Jesus makes it clear, he is not being forced to go. He realizes Jerusalem is the path he must take to be the person Peter has declared him to be, Messiah. He realizes to suffer and die on the cross is his destiny, for he must be what he really was meant to be.
He has been a great moral teacher, a great prophet, and he has healed many people. But there is something greater ahead. Who do you say that I am? And Peter said, ‘You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God.” And because of who you are, there must be another way other than the road to Jerusalem. Jesus tells him, no, there is no other way and then the most painful truth, you are a stumbling block to me my friend!
As shocking as it is to Peter and to us, for Jesus to be Messiah ‘he must go’ to Jerusalem, suffer, and die. To find another way would radically change who he was.
It is also shocking to us that if we are to be Jesus’ disciple we too must go and take up our cross to follow him. For to find another way would radically change who we have been called to be. Beloved, there is no place for a limited and partial disciple in God’s kingdom. It is all or nothing for us.
All or nothing demands a high price. Jesus paid his and now we learn we must pay ours too. There is a road that awaits us. A road and a shadow. Suffering and a cross. Hard truths. We don’t save ourselves by holding on to ourselves. We don’t save ourselves at all.
When we give our life away we are living as a Christian disciple. We are living as Christ because to live only for comfort and safety is not living Jesus’ way. To be shielded from this way of denial and cross is to decide in favor of perceived comfort and safety and to decide against being who we are meant to be.
Living as we do in the near desert of central Texas we have discovered all too painfully this summer water is a valuable commodity. Life cannot be shut up and saved in comfort and safety any more than our waters from rain or rivers can be put in a mason jar to be kept in a kitchen cupboard only to be looked at. Water is not meant to be locked and stored away. It is to be drunk so that we may live, it is to water our earth so we will have food to eat, it is to enjoy in recreation and sport to give us quality in our life. It is to be poured out, to be moving, living water, rushing downstream to share its wealth without ever looking back.
Peter wanted to prevent Jesus’ life from being spilled and wasted, he wanted to save it, to preserve it, to find a safer, more comfortable way for Jesus to be Lord. What he did not see was that Jesus’ supply of life was never-ending.
In the midst of his angst Peter missed the good news. Jesus told him “…on the third day (he would) be raised.” Surely Peter missed that. Who Jesus was to be is woven into this first telling of what we call his passion prediction. Jesus was born to be God’s promised ‘anointed one’ who fulfilled the Old Testament prophecy. He was to be the anticipated king and deliverer who brings salvation to the world. You see, Jesus must go to Jerusalem and endure all the humiliation, suffering and death on that cross to be who WE need him to be. It is the only way we become who God needs us to be.
The disciples now know what Jesus had not told them before. They now know what he must do before he can truly be Messiah. And it must have scared the wits out of them. It must have scared them because this suffering and death was going to happen to one whom they dearly loved, one whom they had left everything for. One whom they desired to live like, loving their enemies, feeding the poor and the widow, forgiving sins, healing and curing the sick.
They had not bargained for the full deal. They had not realized the full cost of discipleship. Jesus was saying that where he goes, we must also go. Surely it cannot be that this is the cost disciples must pay. What kind of Messiah is this? The true Messiah wouldn’t let himself suffer and die such a humiliating death. And he certainly wouldn’t expect his followers to take the same path. Jesus cannot mean we are to take up our cross and follow him into death. Surely he must mean something else.
The minute we try to limit Jesus to something less than what he is meant to be we limit ourselves. For we are called to be full-time, all or nothing disciples. Not just when we are being like him as we teach and heal and make disciples. Not just when we are in our ‘Let’s fix the world’ mode. But even when we are called to pick up our cross and follow him to Calvary.
While Jesus’ cross was evident, ours are less so. We don’t take up a literal cross. We take up life and life is hard to pick up some days. We will suffer, evil lurks, we die and we are in the core of that storm. Yet, when we center our lives in Jesus’, when he becomes the core of our being, we have taken up the cross of life and we can only follow him for he is the light in our storm. True, living this way we lose our way. But living this way we are found by Jesus for whose sake our lives are found.
The stark reality of Jesus’ revealing his destiny to us in this mornings Gospel is that Jesus was about something bigger than the miracles he had performed, he was about something bigger than the fine moral life he was living as an example for us to follow. What Jesus was about was a love so deep he died that our sins would be forgiven and that we would realize God’s promise of eternal salvation for those who accept the invitation, “Come and follow me.”
Our challenge this morning is to follow that kind of savior. One who will not compromise on who he is called to be and who will not compromise on who he expects his disciples to be. Jesus was chosen by God to take up his cross and Jesus expects the same from us. This is the life to which we are called. This is the life that matters for Christ’ sake, not our own.
This just may be where we silence ourselves and slip into the shadows to go on to live a life that matter’s to us. Living Jesus’s way takes us beyond comfort and safety. We cannot deny the fear, it is real, but we need not let our fear stop us. It did not stop Jesus.
To become who God has called us to be means going beyond the limits we place on our lives with false securities. It means receiving our lives as gifts instead of guarding them as our own possessions. It means sharing the gifts we have been given instead of bottling them for our own consumption. It means giving up the notion that we can find another way to be a disciple of Christ that avoids giving our life, body and soul, to our Lord and Savior on his terms.
To be Jesus, our Christ took the road less traveled. His entire life was directed to that road and he took it. He took it and confronted the powers of evil. He was nailed to the cross, knew death first hand, breathed and bleed his last.
If we are to be his friends, his loved ones, and his disciples, where he goes we must go too. This is the way to the truth and the life. This is the way to the good news this world cannot give. There is no other way. If we doubt it we need only remember Job and then Jesus’ promise, “For the Son of Man is to come with his angels in the glory of his Father, and then he will repay everyone for what has been done…”
In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever. Amen
Additional helps:
Barbara Brown Taylor, “The Seeds of Heaven.”
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