Gospel: Matthew 1:18-25
1st Reading: Isaiah 7:10-16
2nd Reading: Romans 1:1-7
Remember when daytime TV was full of the tabloid talk shows of Jerry Springer and Montel Williams and Ricki Lake? Remember those wild audiences, getting into fights, cheering and booing the guests, and the chants of “Jerry! Jerry! Jerry!” Please don’t tell me this stuff is still on the air. I remember wondering how much of it was real and how much was staged and I remember wondering how long we would have to endure this horrible “entertainment.” I didn’t really watch it, but I was exposed to it through pop culture. I especially remember the episodes in which various deadbeat boyfriends would have a paternity test and the results would be revealed on the air. It always seemed like the ones you hoped were the dad, weren’t, and inevitably the ones you hoped would never procreate, seemed to be the one.
Joseph may not be on daytime television, but everybody in his village would have known his business and everybody would have been talking about it. This is an honor/shame society in which people pressure each other into conforming. That’s how values get enforced and passed down through the generations. Everyone knew Mary and Joseph weren’t living together and had never been alone together. Everyone heard Mary’s unlikely explanation for her pregnancy. Everyone saw the look of pain on Joseph’s face, once he got the news. Everyone expected him to break off the engagement, have her stoned, or banish her and the child.
The people of the village valued the same things the world values: protecting your own genetic line, avoiding looking like a fool, sexual conquest, and revenge. This is the usual way.
But Joseph is unusual. The reading says he is a “righteous man.” I think “righteous dude” was a complement from the 80’s, but we really talk that way or use that word very often. When we hear “righteous,” we think “self-righteous.” We think self-important. Let’s substitute the word, “just.” Joseph was a just man. He was fair. He was level-headed. He put others first. He acted with faith on an ongoing basis. He lived by his just values, very different from the values of the world.
Because Joseph was just and fair, he gave Mary the benefit of the doubt and he found himself the protector of the Son of God. He was willing to stand tall in the face of embarrassment and do the right thing. He put others before himself. Because of all this, he was a key player in Jesus’ birth. He probably also taught Jesus a lot about how to be a just and righteous person—the kind of person who could grow up and put all others before himself.
Joseph is just and righteous, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t afraid. The angel picks up on this fear and tries to reassure him. The angel confirms Mary’s story. Certainly Joseph continued to fear, but he didn’t let that stop him from doing what he knew was right. Because of his faith, we have all gained a Savior.
His whole life, he would have faced the glances, the comments, the whispers. There were probably times he doubted himself, when he looked at Mary and wondered if she had duped him, if he’d been a fool to believe. Nevertheless, he followed through on his commitments.
Joseph is unusual, so we have something to learn from him. We can look to Joseph and learn what it means to act justly and compassionately, even when we’re afraid.
We sometimes feel overwhelmed at the pantry and wonder if we will have the energy and resources to go on. We don’t know what the future will bring, but for now it brings life to our church community and the neighborhood. The need is pressing. It is hard to imagine our church without the pantry and worse to imagine our neighborhood without it. It is difficult, but it is worthwhile.
When we witness someone being bullied, it is so frightening and difficult to decide what to do or say. Will it be worse for the victim if I speak up? Will I place myself in harm’s way? Yet that person needs to know they aren’t alone. The situation isn’t likely to change unless someone intervenes. Who will be the one to stand up for what is right?
In the next few months, I’ll be attending continuing education about the impending ecological crisis. We’ll read scriptures and scientific readings, use rituals and faith practices, and discuss and act to find hope in this struggle and to use that hope to face the challenges before us. I’m scared out of my mind about the changes the planet is facing. But to continue with business as usual and to continue to follow the world’s value system of using and abusing the earth, is absurd. Something has to change. I have to move forward and learn what God’s values are in this situation and how to be compassionate with both myself and this earth. I’ll keep you posted.
Maybe step one, is to follow Joseph, and allow ourselves to dream and listen to our deepest longings and connections. Who cared what the world thought? He knew within himself what was right and he held steady. He did what was right, not just for him, but for the greater good. What would be happen if we paid more attention to our dreams and what God might be saying to us through them? What would happen if we listened to our deepest longings for a better world and looked for ways to fulfill those hopes?
Another step is to look for those human connections. King Ahaz looked to his armies to solve his problems with his enemies. The prophet Isaiah told him to look for a sign in the people around him. God basically said, “Look at a newborn baby and then tell me again that war is the answer.” King Ahaz wanted more lands and more power. God was telling him he was looking in the wrong places for signs of God’s favor. If you want to know that God is present, look to a new family, and you will see it there.
Joseph seemed to understand that this project was bigger than him. He took into account the people that would be affected. He saw Mary as a person to be respected and valued, even if she hadn’t been faithful to him and valued him. He imagined a baby who would grow into someone with something to offer his community. Society would tell him to see only a betrayal and it would have been in his rights to get even, but even before the angel came and explained it all, we know he was a just man because we know he wasn’t going to make a big fuss. He saw Mary’s humanity, the baby’s humanity. And once the angel reassured him, he honored all of humanity by taking Mary to be his wife and protecting her and the child.
Our job, too, then is to see one another’s humanity and honor that. It is easy to see people and make a judgment. It is harder to get to know them and to value them as a human. It is hard to give them the benefit of the doubt. Yet, that’s what God does for us. All sin and fall short of the glory of God, and all are saved through him and given new life. When we recognize and honor one another despite our differences, we will be creating a world in which God’s love is known and shared.
Finally, we all have a calling. We mostly think of pastors being called to God’s service, but God is calling all of us to draw closer, to listen to God’s dream, to play our part in the story of God’s saving work. Joseph was called to be a father to God’s son. Paul was called to be an apostle. Paul reminds us that we are called to be saints. We all have a calling regarding Jesus, and that is to share God’s love. It might seem a little scary. People might be scandalized and offended at who we share God’s love with, who we see as a human being worthy of being loved. But we are called to love, and it is God who loves through us, because God is love and that love can’t be contained.
As awesome as Joseph is, he is only a shadow of who God is for us. God gives us the benefit of the doubt, comes as a human to live our life, faces his fears, and gives his life to make us family. We are God’s children, and God is raising us as God’s own to share God’s love with a fearful world.
The world is pregnant with the loving and saving power of God. It is the power of God with us. God has been with us from the very beginning in everything we experience. God is with us in Jesus, God in human form. God will be with us, whatever may come. And the “us” is expansive, to include unwed mothers, tiny babies, old men, cowardly leaders, duped fathers, guests of Jerry Springer, Jews and Gentiles, Evangelicals and Mormons and Muslims. God’s love knows no bounds, and we get the most amazing privilege to be those saints showing in our actions the limitless bounds of God’s love.
Thursday, January 2, 2014
Wednesday, December 18, 2013
December 15, 2013
Gospel: Matthew 11:2-11
1st Reading: Isaiah 35:1-10
2nd Reading: James 5:7-10
What are we waiting for? What are we expecting? Are we expecting the same ol’, same ‘ol? What are John and Jesus preparing us to expect? Finally, what are we going to do about it? What are we waiting for? Let’s get moving!
Are we expecting that some things never change? Sterling has come to expect certain patterns. We turn on our block and he shouts, “Our house!” He has come to expect “Farmer’s market,” “Grocery Outlet,” and “Fred Meyer.” He has come to expect daddy home from work at a certain hour and watches the door expectantly at that time of the evening. He has come to expect Susan and Betsy and Marlene and Don and Harry and Gene and Mary at church. We said the Lord’s Prayer at our Advent service the other night and he turned to me and said, “Bread.” He knows to expect communion directly following the Lord’s Prayer.
But this season, we are also preparing him for what is new. We point out the Christmas lights. We explain about Santa and show him pictures so hopefully he won’t be scared out of his mind if he sees Santa in person this season. I talk to him about the star and baby Jesus and bells and Christmas lights and trees and stockings and soup. We’re preparing him to expect something a little different from what he’s used to.
We don’t just expect it, we help bring it about. We put a can in the food barrel together. We go and see the Christmas lights. We decorate our house. We share the stories from the Bible. We gather with family. We wrap gifts and talk about God’s gifts to us. Who knows how much he can understand, but we find he’s paying more attention and soaking up more than we think. Last week he suddenly said, “I’m two years old,” and held up two fingers. For months, we were preparing him, saying that to him with no response, hoping by the time he’s four, he will be able to let people know. Next thing you know, he’s got the complete sentence and the hand motion together.
In these Bible readings for today, people are expecting things to be the same as it ever was. Are you expecting to see a reed shaken by the wind? Are you expecting a leader who bends to every wind of opinion, that is influenced by the powers of this world, who gives easily to a tiny breeze of pressure from those in power? Are you expecting someone dressed in soft robes? Are you expecting someone whose interest is in keeping himself comfortable, who amasses wealth and pretty things to make himself look good? Why shouldn’t they expect those things? That’s all they had ever seen. Why should this be any different?
Well, it is different, because God has come to intervene personally. John and Jesus are telling them to expect something different. This is no minor tweak. This is a matter of turning the world upside down.
Are you expecting to see the blind remain blind and the deaf remain deaf and people be unable to walk? Why would we expect any different? We’re so fortunate to live in the times that we do, that many people can be healed. We’ve had many people going blind who received their sight through cataract surgery. Raise your hand if you’ve personally experienced this miracle. Both Ed and Susan have had sight restored after tears in their retina. Greg walks up for communion after several back surgeries. Folks formerly homeless find themselves serving the homeless and sharing with those who are less fortunate.
In Jesus’ time, if you were born blind or deaf, you could expect to remain that way. People were blamed for their disability or their parents were, even up to a couple of hundred years ago and even sometimes today. But the strange thing is, many diseases were preventable, as they are today. With clean water, good hand washing, proper sanitation, safe food handling, many diseases and problems could be prevented. The Roman Empire had the technology and ability to provide these services, yet because of greed, the focus on acquiring and controlling people, they only provided it to the elite who could do something for them, not the regular little person. In fact, by not providing these services the Roman Empire ensured that the poor would remain sick and powerless. It was a way of controlling the little people. If you’re always sick, you don’t have time or energy to spend fighting the empire or making your voice heard.
Unfortunately, that is still the value system of those in power. They bow to the rich and keep giving favors and good conditions to the rich, but to the poor and inconsequential, they don’t do squat. It keeps some people using all their energy just to feed their families, so they have no time to work for justice. The rich have access to all the best everything, write off multiple homes off their taxes, and are protected. The poor are left on their own, food stamps cut while corporations get bigger and bigger tax breaks, access to the worst health care if any at all, lying awake at night wondering how to get by.
One of the worst offenses in my mind, is the power companies. People get behind in their payments. If they could pay it, they would. These are the poorest of the poor. They are choosing between eating and paying to heat their homes. They call me with their shutoff notice. They have exhausted their options with payment plans and one-time only grace periods. If it gets shut off, they pay hundreds of dollars in fees, when it doesn’t cost the power company one cent to shut it off. They do it electronically. So the poorest of the poor are paying these huge fees and they couldn’t even pay their bill to begin with. In some other states, this has been declared illegal and I think we need to make this happen in Oregon. If you can pay your bills, you’d never know about this. But if you are poor, more is heaped on you until you’re completely overwhelmed. It is completely unacceptable.
We could expect everything to stay the same. Except Jesus is coming into our world and turning it upside down. He is saying that his value system isn’t about profits, money, or greed and ours doesn’t have to be either. The blind are seeing. The deaf are hearing. The lame are walking. Not just physically, but spiritually too. That he would bring this kind of healing and wholeness, was directly challenging the Roman instrument of death and control that kept people sick. It was telling the Romans they couldn’t keep the little people down. And it was about opening the eyes of those who could only see a value system which puts the self and the pocket book first at the expense of others. It was about opening the ears of those who could only hear the wealthy, to listen to the stories of the poor and forgotten—to hear how they got to that point, that systems were built to keep them down and despite making every effort, they still found themselves destitute. And it was about helping people walk those places they never walked before—to ask the question about what it would feel like to live this way as some of you did many years ago when you took the homeless immersion and slept on the streets of Portland for a weekend.
Whether we are waiting for history to repeat itself over and over endlessly and nothing to change, or whether we are waiting for God to turn the whole world around, the question, “What are we waiting for?” is a rhetorical one that means of course, we’re not waiting any longer. We’re going to live this new value system of God’s and not the world’s death-dealing one anymore. We’re going to do something about it. There is no need to wait for anything.
When we come to this place and gather and treat every last person with the same love and welcome, we are living in God’s new value system. When we not only feed the hungry, but share in conversation and make connections with them, we are living in God’s new value system. When we don’t ask or judge who is deserving, but share generously of all we have, we are living God’s new value system. When we pack lunches for backpack buddies, write letters to our legislators, let people cut in line ahead of us, sit with someone who is alone, we are living God’s new value system.
I’m not a big fan of patience. The reading for today speaks of patience. However, this is not a lot of sitting around waiting helplessly for something to happen. This is active patience, that doesn’t get discouraged because other people are sitting on their hands. This is patience where you follow through on God’s value system and aren’t using the excuse that no one else is. This is long-suffering patience, like the prophets, where they did what God asked of them, despite the scowls, the imprisonments, and the disapproval of the community that was still holding on the to the me-first value system that is business as usual. Don’t give up. God’s value system will win the day. We just have to decide whether we are going to stand in the way of it, or be a part of it.
1st Reading: Isaiah 35:1-10
2nd Reading: James 5:7-10
What are we waiting for? What are we expecting? Are we expecting the same ol’, same ‘ol? What are John and Jesus preparing us to expect? Finally, what are we going to do about it? What are we waiting for? Let’s get moving!
Are we expecting that some things never change? Sterling has come to expect certain patterns. We turn on our block and he shouts, “Our house!” He has come to expect “Farmer’s market,” “Grocery Outlet,” and “Fred Meyer.” He has come to expect daddy home from work at a certain hour and watches the door expectantly at that time of the evening. He has come to expect Susan and Betsy and Marlene and Don and Harry and Gene and Mary at church. We said the Lord’s Prayer at our Advent service the other night and he turned to me and said, “Bread.” He knows to expect communion directly following the Lord’s Prayer.
But this season, we are also preparing him for what is new. We point out the Christmas lights. We explain about Santa and show him pictures so hopefully he won’t be scared out of his mind if he sees Santa in person this season. I talk to him about the star and baby Jesus and bells and Christmas lights and trees and stockings and soup. We’re preparing him to expect something a little different from what he’s used to.
We don’t just expect it, we help bring it about. We put a can in the food barrel together. We go and see the Christmas lights. We decorate our house. We share the stories from the Bible. We gather with family. We wrap gifts and talk about God’s gifts to us. Who knows how much he can understand, but we find he’s paying more attention and soaking up more than we think. Last week he suddenly said, “I’m two years old,” and held up two fingers. For months, we were preparing him, saying that to him with no response, hoping by the time he’s four, he will be able to let people know. Next thing you know, he’s got the complete sentence and the hand motion together.
In these Bible readings for today, people are expecting things to be the same as it ever was. Are you expecting to see a reed shaken by the wind? Are you expecting a leader who bends to every wind of opinion, that is influenced by the powers of this world, who gives easily to a tiny breeze of pressure from those in power? Are you expecting someone dressed in soft robes? Are you expecting someone whose interest is in keeping himself comfortable, who amasses wealth and pretty things to make himself look good? Why shouldn’t they expect those things? That’s all they had ever seen. Why should this be any different?
Well, it is different, because God has come to intervene personally. John and Jesus are telling them to expect something different. This is no minor tweak. This is a matter of turning the world upside down.
Are you expecting to see the blind remain blind and the deaf remain deaf and people be unable to walk? Why would we expect any different? We’re so fortunate to live in the times that we do, that many people can be healed. We’ve had many people going blind who received their sight through cataract surgery. Raise your hand if you’ve personally experienced this miracle. Both Ed and Susan have had sight restored after tears in their retina. Greg walks up for communion after several back surgeries. Folks formerly homeless find themselves serving the homeless and sharing with those who are less fortunate.
In Jesus’ time, if you were born blind or deaf, you could expect to remain that way. People were blamed for their disability or their parents were, even up to a couple of hundred years ago and even sometimes today. But the strange thing is, many diseases were preventable, as they are today. With clean water, good hand washing, proper sanitation, safe food handling, many diseases and problems could be prevented. The Roman Empire had the technology and ability to provide these services, yet because of greed, the focus on acquiring and controlling people, they only provided it to the elite who could do something for them, not the regular little person. In fact, by not providing these services the Roman Empire ensured that the poor would remain sick and powerless. It was a way of controlling the little people. If you’re always sick, you don’t have time or energy to spend fighting the empire or making your voice heard.
Unfortunately, that is still the value system of those in power. They bow to the rich and keep giving favors and good conditions to the rich, but to the poor and inconsequential, they don’t do squat. It keeps some people using all their energy just to feed their families, so they have no time to work for justice. The rich have access to all the best everything, write off multiple homes off their taxes, and are protected. The poor are left on their own, food stamps cut while corporations get bigger and bigger tax breaks, access to the worst health care if any at all, lying awake at night wondering how to get by.
One of the worst offenses in my mind, is the power companies. People get behind in their payments. If they could pay it, they would. These are the poorest of the poor. They are choosing between eating and paying to heat their homes. They call me with their shutoff notice. They have exhausted their options with payment plans and one-time only grace periods. If it gets shut off, they pay hundreds of dollars in fees, when it doesn’t cost the power company one cent to shut it off. They do it electronically. So the poorest of the poor are paying these huge fees and they couldn’t even pay their bill to begin with. In some other states, this has been declared illegal and I think we need to make this happen in Oregon. If you can pay your bills, you’d never know about this. But if you are poor, more is heaped on you until you’re completely overwhelmed. It is completely unacceptable.
We could expect everything to stay the same. Except Jesus is coming into our world and turning it upside down. He is saying that his value system isn’t about profits, money, or greed and ours doesn’t have to be either. The blind are seeing. The deaf are hearing. The lame are walking. Not just physically, but spiritually too. That he would bring this kind of healing and wholeness, was directly challenging the Roman instrument of death and control that kept people sick. It was telling the Romans they couldn’t keep the little people down. And it was about opening the eyes of those who could only see a value system which puts the self and the pocket book first at the expense of others. It was about opening the ears of those who could only hear the wealthy, to listen to the stories of the poor and forgotten—to hear how they got to that point, that systems were built to keep them down and despite making every effort, they still found themselves destitute. And it was about helping people walk those places they never walked before—to ask the question about what it would feel like to live this way as some of you did many years ago when you took the homeless immersion and slept on the streets of Portland for a weekend.
Whether we are waiting for history to repeat itself over and over endlessly and nothing to change, or whether we are waiting for God to turn the whole world around, the question, “What are we waiting for?” is a rhetorical one that means of course, we’re not waiting any longer. We’re going to live this new value system of God’s and not the world’s death-dealing one anymore. We’re going to do something about it. There is no need to wait for anything.
When we come to this place and gather and treat every last person with the same love and welcome, we are living in God’s new value system. When we not only feed the hungry, but share in conversation and make connections with them, we are living in God’s new value system. When we don’t ask or judge who is deserving, but share generously of all we have, we are living God’s new value system. When we pack lunches for backpack buddies, write letters to our legislators, let people cut in line ahead of us, sit with someone who is alone, we are living God’s new value system.
I’m not a big fan of patience. The reading for today speaks of patience. However, this is not a lot of sitting around waiting helplessly for something to happen. This is active patience, that doesn’t get discouraged because other people are sitting on their hands. This is patience where you follow through on God’s value system and aren’t using the excuse that no one else is. This is long-suffering patience, like the prophets, where they did what God asked of them, despite the scowls, the imprisonments, and the disapproval of the community that was still holding on the to the me-first value system that is business as usual. Don’t give up. God’s value system will win the day. We just have to decide whether we are going to stand in the way of it, or be a part of it.
Tuesday, December 3, 2013
December 1, 2013
Advent 1
Gospel: 24:36-44
1st Reading: Isaiah 2:1-5
2nd Reading: Romans 13: 11-14
This scripture has excited the minds of many Christians who have invented the word “rapture” and decided that this scripture combined with a couple of verses from Revelation means that when Christ returns, those people who are good enough will just disappear, as God “raptures” them to heaven. From what I understand it is kind of like beaming someone up in Star Trek. So you see the bumper sticker: “In case of rapture, this car will be unmanned.” A whole series of books and movies have come out of this whole idea of who will be “Left Behind” and what will happen to those people.
I don’t think we need a bunch of fictional books to wonder what it is like to be left behind and what happens when we are left behind. We have it right here. We have widows and widowers, orphans, parents who’ve lost children, those who have had a sibling die. Why do some die, while others are spared? In a typhoon or hurricane, some family members survive and others are swept into the sea. In a car accident, one might die and another survive. In war some make it home and others come home in a casket. And in life some live long healthy lives and others die much too soon. We already know what it is like when some are taken and some are left behind.
My grandparents were married 65 years when my grandpa passed away. My grandma was left behind for another 5 years. She had a really hard time going on without him and spent a lot of time wishing she could be with him. She was waiting expectantly to be reunited with him in the next life.
Grief: What can I say about it that you don’t already know? It is that painful loss. It is that slight relief. It is guilt. It is anger. It is complicated. And the world wants us to move through it and get back to business as usual as quickly as possible, because each loss is a reminder of other griefs and reminds others that sooner or later we all get left behind. That’s very uncomfortable to think about.
Those who have died are already at peace, bathed in God’s glorious light and presence. They live in the reality that Isaiah is talking about in which peace reigns, the focus is on God, and God’s light illuminates everything. Those of us who are left behind are in another reality altogether—the reality of loss and broken hearts and no appetite and depression.
What do the rest of us do while we are left behind? The first thing is to let yourself grieve. You can’t push it away. You can’t avoid it. You just have to go through it. Don’t let anyone tell you to get over it or let you think that a year or two years or even more is too long to grieve. In some ways, we would probably like to move on sooner and put our life back together. But in that loss, part of you is here in this place, on this earth, and part of you is with the person who has died. You become a bridge between heaven and earth—alert and awake to the ways God’s reality is breaking into our reality.
When you lose someone so close to you, that person is always there in your mind. The veil between heaven and earth is very thin. You’ve got a foot in both worlds. Sometimes that person seems so close by. The memories are so vivid. The dreams can be so real.
Grandma wanted to die, so that she could cross that veil, that barrier, and be with grandpa again. But the truth is, heaven is breaking into our world. She didn’t have to go anywhere to experience God’s Kingdom. It was coming to her all along. God’s Kingdom is coming here—that’s why we say, “Thy Kingdom come.” That’s what Isaiah is talking about when he says that God will be established on the highest mountain and all the nations will flow toward it and we’ll all learn God’s ways and walk in God’s paths. That’s what Jesus talks about in the very next chapter of Matthew when he says, “Just as you did this to the least of these my brothers and sisters, fed, clothed, visited, tended, you did it unto me.” Jesus’ reign is extended to the earth when these things happen and we visit or feed or love others.
We’ve got two realities, here. There is the reality we live in with suffering and violence and war and hunger. Then we’ve got God’s reality, a promise of what will be, where there is peace and plenty and acknowledgment of God’s authority and agriculture. It may seem like those are light years away from each other, but God is telling us to look around and see how near they are to each other. They are as close as a glass of water if we would extend that to another person or accept it from them. They are as close as a warm coat, if we would share it with someone or accept it from someone. They are as close as the person sitting next to us if we would take the time to get to know them better.
God is shining a light –the light of the LORD that Isaiah talks about—to show us how near God’s kingdom really is, so that we can be on the lookout for it, in the so-called co-incidences that occur right in front of our eyes, showing us God’s Kingdom, in the eager eyes of a child, in the pleading hands of people who are alone at the holidays, in the beauty of this earth.
These two worlds are very close together, ours and God’s. These newspapers around the room represent our everyday world with all its suffering and celebration, colliding with our spiritual world, God’s reality, that we recognize and celebrate in our church. Today we are going to extend our prayers to include the concerns and values and focus of our world. You are invited to walk around the room and read headlines or stories or ads and pray for people and situations that you see there. You’ve got some pens that you may use. Feel free to underline names or words or phrases that you are holding in prayer or to write prayers in the margins or over the news stories expressing your prayers, your hopes, your communication with God.
What do we do when we are left behind and God’s Kingdom is coming? We’ve got a few choices.
1. Fear: When we hear of wars and rumors of wars we can panic. We can be dreading the thief coming in the night and never get any sleep. We can turn in ourselves and get so afraid of loss that we never open ourselves to another person again.
2. Denial: We can go on with business as usual and turn a blind eye to the those who need help. We can keep on with the world’s value system of building bigger and bigger weapons, using resources that could feed and educate people to kill and destroy.
But God’s light is shining on these paths and we can see that they lead nowhere. They are not God’s path.
So God is shining a light on another path. It is to help tear down that veil between heaven and earth, so that God’s reality becomes our reality, so that the peace that our loved ones already know also reigns here on earth, so that hungry bellies are no longer rumbling, so that people have access to basic needs for their health like mosquito nets and water wells, so that the food that agriculture produces is not wasted but shared and used to bring nutrition and health. When we are left behind, it is our job to make sure others aren’t left behind but that God’s reality is extended from the greatest to the least.
Jesus reminds us that none of us are left behind forever. Jesus came that we all might be claimed into God’s family and know peace and spread peace. We can bridge that divide between heaven and earth, between God’s reality and the world’s reality, between those in eternal life and those of us living this life, when we are awake and watching for those tears in the veil, those places of heaven on earth, and when we participate in bringing more of them to people who need them most.
November 24, 2013
Gospel: Luke 23:33-43
1st Reading: Jeremiah 23:1-6
2nd Reading: Colossians 1:11-20
Happy Birthday King of Kings! Today our congregation is 48 years old. And on this joyous occasion, we read the Scriptures for Christ the King Sunday, and it doesn’t leave us very joyous. Here is Christ on the cross, naked, beaten, betrayed, and dying, in the midst of criminals, being mocked and derided. It isn’t much of a Birthday celebration for our congregation, or our true King of Kings, Jesus.
Sometimes on a Birthday we take time to remember how we got to this point, events over the past year or in the life of the person that were meaningful and important. The readings today cover Jesus’ actions over the course of human existence and show a trajectory of true kingly behavior leading to this cross, another kind of throne lifting him up for him to complete his kingly work of saving the people and putting our needs before himself. The readings give us a chance to review where we’ve been so far.
The readings paint a picture of Jesus there at creation, the word bringing everything into being, holding all things together, heading it up. Something happens between then and the reading from Jeremiah, where kings and leaders, who are supposed to be shepherds have scattered the flock and driven them away. These rulers have been destructive, greedy, selfish, and neglectful. But God has a plan to bring everything back into balance, to gather the remnant and make sure that the flock flourishes under God’s care. A good king is like a good shepherd, and a good shepherd will lay down his life for the flock.
Now we come to Jesus on the cross. This is not a place for a king. A king should be comfortable, protected, honored, and loved. The cry is always, “Long live the king!” Here he is not living but dying. Instead of fine clothes, he has been stripped. Instead of a crown of gold, he wears a crown of thorns. Instead of sitting on a throne, he hangs on a cross. Instead of glory and power, he is weak and powerless.
Or is he? Was it a more powerful act to stay on the cross and not use his power for his own gain, but to show power in vulnerability and remain there to save us all? Jesus had the power, the ability to act, to remove himself from the cross. But he chose not to, because he was the only good king, the King of Kings, showing all of us how to use our powers to benefit other people rather than ourselves.
So, now we come to our congregation. We are named for our King of Kings, not to be confused with him. By choosing this name, we are meant to remember who it is this church represents and whose value system we go by and whose life we follow. There have been times when leaders of this congregation have been good shepherds and times we’ve been bad ones. There are times this church has been afraid and other times it has been courageous. There are times this church has been selfish and other times selfless. We are on a journey to follow Jesus and sometimes it seems Jesus is getting through to us and sometimes we miss entirely. Yet, Jesus died to give us the example to follow and the chance to try again when we fail and the chance to give God credit when it goes well.
Despite any shortcomings we’ve had, this is a day when we can truly celebrate what Jesus has done for us and through us. This year we celebrated several wonderful baptisms, the wedding of Howard and Pat, and the lives of some wonderful members including Wilma Raymond and Larry Sparrow and Dina Black. This year I have wonderful memories of special music that you offered during the summer and when Patty’s brother came and played for us this fall. We’ve had so many people come through our doors and walk out with bags of food and smiles on their faces. Sometimes the kids can’t even wait to get to the car, but stand there eating an apple or banana. We changed out the carpet in the entryway. We began our partnership with Church of God of Prophecy and worked together on church cleanup day and got to know each other. We had such a fun time with our rummage sale with different people contributing and picking up items and working together to make it a success. We shared our joys and pains, came to one another's aid, and worked together to be a welcoming presence in our community.
It seems the story is going to end with Jesus on the cross, but one of those crucified with him see that there is going to be more to this story. Maybe he hears Jesus say, “Father forgive them for they know not what they do.” Maybe he perceives that this forgiveness may even extend to him. He takes responsibility for his crime when he states that he deserves what he is getting. He sees that Jesus has done nothing wrong, and in fact is doing everything right. He is offering forgiveness to those who are hurting him. This man wants to be remembered by Jesus. Where others only see a devastating and tragic end, he sees a future, a beginning, an Advent. This story goes on. We know Jesus will rise. We know that we all share in the resurrection and that new life starts immediately, today, in the kind of lives we will live, in the way we will use power to benefit others, in the way we will give ourselves away for the sake of others. Although this reading is depressing and would be shocking if we hadn’t heard it a lot of times, it holds a promise of new life for everyone. Jesus says, “Today you will be with me in Paradise.” In fact, paradise is the word for garden. It is as if the readings are taking us full circle from the creation of God’s perfect universe, through sin and brokenness, to God’s intervention and humankind’s efforts to destroy God, to the cross, and finally back to paradise again, where we are one with God and this beautiful world God made.
So, I’ve reviewed a little of the past year. Now, in the hope of the resurrection, I invite you to state your hopes for King of Kings in the coming year.
1st Reading: Jeremiah 23:1-6
2nd Reading: Colossians 1:11-20
Happy Birthday King of Kings! Today our congregation is 48 years old. And on this joyous occasion, we read the Scriptures for Christ the King Sunday, and it doesn’t leave us very joyous. Here is Christ on the cross, naked, beaten, betrayed, and dying, in the midst of criminals, being mocked and derided. It isn’t much of a Birthday celebration for our congregation, or our true King of Kings, Jesus.
Sometimes on a Birthday we take time to remember how we got to this point, events over the past year or in the life of the person that were meaningful and important. The readings today cover Jesus’ actions over the course of human existence and show a trajectory of true kingly behavior leading to this cross, another kind of throne lifting him up for him to complete his kingly work of saving the people and putting our needs before himself. The readings give us a chance to review where we’ve been so far.
The readings paint a picture of Jesus there at creation, the word bringing everything into being, holding all things together, heading it up. Something happens between then and the reading from Jeremiah, where kings and leaders, who are supposed to be shepherds have scattered the flock and driven them away. These rulers have been destructive, greedy, selfish, and neglectful. But God has a plan to bring everything back into balance, to gather the remnant and make sure that the flock flourishes under God’s care. A good king is like a good shepherd, and a good shepherd will lay down his life for the flock.
Now we come to Jesus on the cross. This is not a place for a king. A king should be comfortable, protected, honored, and loved. The cry is always, “Long live the king!” Here he is not living but dying. Instead of fine clothes, he has been stripped. Instead of a crown of gold, he wears a crown of thorns. Instead of sitting on a throne, he hangs on a cross. Instead of glory and power, he is weak and powerless.
Or is he? Was it a more powerful act to stay on the cross and not use his power for his own gain, but to show power in vulnerability and remain there to save us all? Jesus had the power, the ability to act, to remove himself from the cross. But he chose not to, because he was the only good king, the King of Kings, showing all of us how to use our powers to benefit other people rather than ourselves.
So, now we come to our congregation. We are named for our King of Kings, not to be confused with him. By choosing this name, we are meant to remember who it is this church represents and whose value system we go by and whose life we follow. There have been times when leaders of this congregation have been good shepherds and times we’ve been bad ones. There are times this church has been afraid and other times it has been courageous. There are times this church has been selfish and other times selfless. We are on a journey to follow Jesus and sometimes it seems Jesus is getting through to us and sometimes we miss entirely. Yet, Jesus died to give us the example to follow and the chance to try again when we fail and the chance to give God credit when it goes well.
Despite any shortcomings we’ve had, this is a day when we can truly celebrate what Jesus has done for us and through us. This year we celebrated several wonderful baptisms, the wedding of Howard and Pat, and the lives of some wonderful members including Wilma Raymond and Larry Sparrow and Dina Black. This year I have wonderful memories of special music that you offered during the summer and when Patty’s brother came and played for us this fall. We’ve had so many people come through our doors and walk out with bags of food and smiles on their faces. Sometimes the kids can’t even wait to get to the car, but stand there eating an apple or banana. We changed out the carpet in the entryway. We began our partnership with Church of God of Prophecy and worked together on church cleanup day and got to know each other. We had such a fun time with our rummage sale with different people contributing and picking up items and working together to make it a success. We shared our joys and pains, came to one another's aid, and worked together to be a welcoming presence in our community.
It seems the story is going to end with Jesus on the cross, but one of those crucified with him see that there is going to be more to this story. Maybe he hears Jesus say, “Father forgive them for they know not what they do.” Maybe he perceives that this forgiveness may even extend to him. He takes responsibility for his crime when he states that he deserves what he is getting. He sees that Jesus has done nothing wrong, and in fact is doing everything right. He is offering forgiveness to those who are hurting him. This man wants to be remembered by Jesus. Where others only see a devastating and tragic end, he sees a future, a beginning, an Advent. This story goes on. We know Jesus will rise. We know that we all share in the resurrection and that new life starts immediately, today, in the kind of lives we will live, in the way we will use power to benefit others, in the way we will give ourselves away for the sake of others. Although this reading is depressing and would be shocking if we hadn’t heard it a lot of times, it holds a promise of new life for everyone. Jesus says, “Today you will be with me in Paradise.” In fact, paradise is the word for garden. It is as if the readings are taking us full circle from the creation of God’s perfect universe, through sin and brokenness, to God’s intervention and humankind’s efforts to destroy God, to the cross, and finally back to paradise again, where we are one with God and this beautiful world God made.
So, I’ve reviewed a little of the past year. Now, in the hope of the resurrection, I invite you to state your hopes for King of Kings in the coming year.
Tuesday, November 19, 2013
November 17, 2013
Gospel: Luke 21:5-19
1st Reading: Malachi 4:1-2a
2nd Reading: 2 Thessalonians 3:6-13
The first time I walked into this sanctuary, I felt right at home. I was here interviewing in the summer of 2004. The same artist who carved all this beautiful wood, also carved the wood in the sanctuary of my home congregation. Maybe it was a sign that it was meant to be, or maybe it was a co-incidence. That evening, I met the call committee and found a group of faithful people, trying to do God’s work and listen to God’s voice. Then when I was called here to be your pastor, I found the same. And I have seen God at work in you ever since.
First I saw the building. Then I saw the representatives of the congregation. Then I met each of you. Then I saw God through you.
“Some were speaking about the Temple, how it was adorned with beautiful stones and gifts dedicated to God.” These carvings are beautiful in their own right. They create a warmth in this space. They sometimes seem to glow from within because of the kind of wood and stain used to make them. Yet, there is more to them—they call to mind our faith, remind us of the kind of God we have, and who we are in relationship to God and each other. Jesus has his arms open in invitation. He is on a cross of sorts, but he is also raising to new life. The wounds on his hands, feet and sides, aren’t just gorey marks of suffering, but they are marked with a cross—a holy sign of God’s love and presence and sacrifice. The pulpit is carved with words reminding us of who God is and who we are in relationship to God. They are words of encouragement and empowerment for us and all who enter this space, because we need that strength and hope to move forward, because we are God’s messengers and workers doing what needs to be done. The wood around the sanctuary forms a cross on either side, as well as a kind of crown for our true King of Kings, the head of us, the people, the body of Christ.
I have heard many people say how lovely they find our sanctuary, and a few who have a few issues with it, but mainly compliments. Yet, we all know that the building isn’t what it is all about. This is a tool to do God’s work. It is a gift to be used up in service to God’s people.
How can we both honor the building--make it warm and inviting, and use it up for God’s work. We want the church yard to look nice, so that it is inviting, yet, realistically there is only so much we can do. I remember once many years ago, a retired pastor visited our congregation. On his way out, he pointed out the moss growing on the curbs. I thanked him, bewildered. Who cares how much moss is growing, as long as the people are doing God’s work! That’s how I feel about it! I have prayed for that man many times since. Yet, I understand he was trying to be helpful and at the next cleanup day the moss was cleaned up. How much different I would have felt about this visitor if he had first paid us a compliment on something we got right—there must have been something—joined the church and then volunteered to clean up the moss or have it cleaned. Or how would I have felt differently if he had showed as much concern about a ministry we were involved in that could possibly help someone, rather than something so trivial as moss?
We have been having more wear and tear on the building in the past 6 years because it is getting used by the pantry and many different groups that share the space and we may find that an increasing trend. There are fingerprints on the windows, drawings on the offering envelopes, cigarette butts in the outdoor ash tray, debris tracked in on the carpet. Is this a reason for shame or despair? This is reason to give thanks! The space is being used for God’s ministry. It is part of the order of things that sooner or later even stones fall. In the past few years we’ve replaced some carpet that was worn out and stained. Patty and her family painted the social hall because the walls were scratched.
For a time those stains on the floor recieved a lot of attention. Do those marks send a message that we are disorganized, too poor to fix them, or otherwise deficient somehow? Do they represent the wear and tear and disinterest and lack of concern of “those people” using our building? Or do they reflect the natural order of things that this carpet covered this floor for over 12 years, saw how many thousands of feet come through, supported the feet of members and nonmembers, those rejoicing and those grieving, the well-fed and the hungry? That carpet did the work of God without a grumble or a distinction between people. Why then do we try to distinguish—who did this? Children of God did this and it is a beautiful thing that the carpet was used to give glory to God and help people who needed it most.
The marks on the walls were for some a critique of the pantry and tables scraping the walls. But for others they were marks of how many fewer people were going hungry in our neighborhood. They were marks of how many volunteers were coming through these doors, more satisfied, more connected, more hopeful. They were a marking of time reminding us of how long it had been since Tova was married—the reason those walls were painted the last time. They had seen the happiness at that wedding and others. They had seen the tears flowing at many funerals. They had seen laughter. They had been covered for Bible School in fish decorations making the whole social hall into an ocean scene and transforming the entire feel of the room, even inspiring some to say we should paint a mural on our colorless walls. For ten years that paint served God and it slowly wore out.
Who was to blame? Who scratched those walls? Was it those people who don’t care about our walls? Those marks were inevitable—paint scratches. They were beautiful because they were earned, like the wrinkles on all our faces. They were the marks of servanthood. I would imagine that in 10-12 more years you’re going to need to replace the carpet and paint the social hall again, and if it is sooner than that, it won’t be because the space was abused, but because it was used for the glory of God and should be something to celebrate.
Jesus hung there on the cross, broken and bleeding. This beautiful man’s body had been destroyed. Whose fault was it? Was it those Romans or those Jews? Or had he simply given himself away for ministry? Was it in any way a beautiful thing, what he gave up for us? Jesus’ ministry wasn’t about his body, or his survival. It was about the Kingdom of God and our relationship to God. In order to solidify that relationship, God gave the Son, not to be kept pristine and pretty, but to be used up for the sake of the poor, the needy, the lost, the misguided—for us.
When we encounter messes and disasters, earthquakes, famines, ruined temples and churches burnt to ashes, famines and plagues, and even personal attacks, how will we react? Do we react by blaming? Do we feel despair? Do we get distracted and led away by charismatic leaders or latest fad in self help?
Jesus says that these are actually occasions for hope. He reminds us of God’s bigger plan. He reminds us of the natural order of things—that buildings and institutions and kingdoms rise and fall. But that God is in charge and that will never change. Some of these things must fall that are not serving God, but have become distractions and excuses to take advantage of the poor. When they fall that is a good thing. Aren’t there days when it might be good news if the US legislature was just leveled and we had to start all over again?
Someday, this church won’t be here anymore. It will be a heap of rubble or maybe something else will be built in its place. Is this cause for alarm, or hope? Jesus says to remain hopeful. God will still be the one in charge. Someday all our bodies will wear out and we will die. Is this cause for alarm? Or is a chance to rejoice and give thanks to God, as Jesus says? Whether we live or die we are the Lord’s. Someday this country will be no more. Is this an occasion for despair? Or will we see the renewal that Jesus has in mind for all of creation? Do we really believe in resurrection or do we get stuck staring at the heap of stones and beautiful jewels?
Our church building will continue to need maintenance. I’m not saying that we shouldn’t have replaced the carpet or painted the social hall. It was time. But next time, let’s celebrate the work that God is doing in this place, that God is wearing this place out with love and foot traffic and relationship. Let us do our work quietly. Let us stop admiring the wood and stone and paint that won’t last, and start admiring God who brings new life and hope when it doesn’t look or feel pretty.
1st Reading: Malachi 4:1-2a
2nd Reading: 2 Thessalonians 3:6-13
The first time I walked into this sanctuary, I felt right at home. I was here interviewing in the summer of 2004. The same artist who carved all this beautiful wood, also carved the wood in the sanctuary of my home congregation. Maybe it was a sign that it was meant to be, or maybe it was a co-incidence. That evening, I met the call committee and found a group of faithful people, trying to do God’s work and listen to God’s voice. Then when I was called here to be your pastor, I found the same. And I have seen God at work in you ever since.
First I saw the building. Then I saw the representatives of the congregation. Then I met each of you. Then I saw God through you.
“Some were speaking about the Temple, how it was adorned with beautiful stones and gifts dedicated to God.” These carvings are beautiful in their own right. They create a warmth in this space. They sometimes seem to glow from within because of the kind of wood and stain used to make them. Yet, there is more to them—they call to mind our faith, remind us of the kind of God we have, and who we are in relationship to God and each other. Jesus has his arms open in invitation. He is on a cross of sorts, but he is also raising to new life. The wounds on his hands, feet and sides, aren’t just gorey marks of suffering, but they are marked with a cross—a holy sign of God’s love and presence and sacrifice. The pulpit is carved with words reminding us of who God is and who we are in relationship to God. They are words of encouragement and empowerment for us and all who enter this space, because we need that strength and hope to move forward, because we are God’s messengers and workers doing what needs to be done. The wood around the sanctuary forms a cross on either side, as well as a kind of crown for our true King of Kings, the head of us, the people, the body of Christ.
I have heard many people say how lovely they find our sanctuary, and a few who have a few issues with it, but mainly compliments. Yet, we all know that the building isn’t what it is all about. This is a tool to do God’s work. It is a gift to be used up in service to God’s people.
How can we both honor the building--make it warm and inviting, and use it up for God’s work. We want the church yard to look nice, so that it is inviting, yet, realistically there is only so much we can do. I remember once many years ago, a retired pastor visited our congregation. On his way out, he pointed out the moss growing on the curbs. I thanked him, bewildered. Who cares how much moss is growing, as long as the people are doing God’s work! That’s how I feel about it! I have prayed for that man many times since. Yet, I understand he was trying to be helpful and at the next cleanup day the moss was cleaned up. How much different I would have felt about this visitor if he had first paid us a compliment on something we got right—there must have been something—joined the church and then volunteered to clean up the moss or have it cleaned. Or how would I have felt differently if he had showed as much concern about a ministry we were involved in that could possibly help someone, rather than something so trivial as moss?
We have been having more wear and tear on the building in the past 6 years because it is getting used by the pantry and many different groups that share the space and we may find that an increasing trend. There are fingerprints on the windows, drawings on the offering envelopes, cigarette butts in the outdoor ash tray, debris tracked in on the carpet. Is this a reason for shame or despair? This is reason to give thanks! The space is being used for God’s ministry. It is part of the order of things that sooner or later even stones fall. In the past few years we’ve replaced some carpet that was worn out and stained. Patty and her family painted the social hall because the walls were scratched.
For a time those stains on the floor recieved a lot of attention. Do those marks send a message that we are disorganized, too poor to fix them, or otherwise deficient somehow? Do they represent the wear and tear and disinterest and lack of concern of “those people” using our building? Or do they reflect the natural order of things that this carpet covered this floor for over 12 years, saw how many thousands of feet come through, supported the feet of members and nonmembers, those rejoicing and those grieving, the well-fed and the hungry? That carpet did the work of God without a grumble or a distinction between people. Why then do we try to distinguish—who did this? Children of God did this and it is a beautiful thing that the carpet was used to give glory to God and help people who needed it most.
The marks on the walls were for some a critique of the pantry and tables scraping the walls. But for others they were marks of how many fewer people were going hungry in our neighborhood. They were marks of how many volunteers were coming through these doors, more satisfied, more connected, more hopeful. They were a marking of time reminding us of how long it had been since Tova was married—the reason those walls were painted the last time. They had seen the happiness at that wedding and others. They had seen the tears flowing at many funerals. They had seen laughter. They had been covered for Bible School in fish decorations making the whole social hall into an ocean scene and transforming the entire feel of the room, even inspiring some to say we should paint a mural on our colorless walls. For ten years that paint served God and it slowly wore out.
Who was to blame? Who scratched those walls? Was it those people who don’t care about our walls? Those marks were inevitable—paint scratches. They were beautiful because they were earned, like the wrinkles on all our faces. They were the marks of servanthood. I would imagine that in 10-12 more years you’re going to need to replace the carpet and paint the social hall again, and if it is sooner than that, it won’t be because the space was abused, but because it was used for the glory of God and should be something to celebrate.
Jesus hung there on the cross, broken and bleeding. This beautiful man’s body had been destroyed. Whose fault was it? Was it those Romans or those Jews? Or had he simply given himself away for ministry? Was it in any way a beautiful thing, what he gave up for us? Jesus’ ministry wasn’t about his body, or his survival. It was about the Kingdom of God and our relationship to God. In order to solidify that relationship, God gave the Son, not to be kept pristine and pretty, but to be used up for the sake of the poor, the needy, the lost, the misguided—for us.
When we encounter messes and disasters, earthquakes, famines, ruined temples and churches burnt to ashes, famines and plagues, and even personal attacks, how will we react? Do we react by blaming? Do we feel despair? Do we get distracted and led away by charismatic leaders or latest fad in self help?
Jesus says that these are actually occasions for hope. He reminds us of God’s bigger plan. He reminds us of the natural order of things—that buildings and institutions and kingdoms rise and fall. But that God is in charge and that will never change. Some of these things must fall that are not serving God, but have become distractions and excuses to take advantage of the poor. When they fall that is a good thing. Aren’t there days when it might be good news if the US legislature was just leveled and we had to start all over again?
Someday, this church won’t be here anymore. It will be a heap of rubble or maybe something else will be built in its place. Is this cause for alarm, or hope? Jesus says to remain hopeful. God will still be the one in charge. Someday all our bodies will wear out and we will die. Is this cause for alarm? Or is a chance to rejoice and give thanks to God, as Jesus says? Whether we live or die we are the Lord’s. Someday this country will be no more. Is this an occasion for despair? Or will we see the renewal that Jesus has in mind for all of creation? Do we really believe in resurrection or do we get stuck staring at the heap of stones and beautiful jewels?
Our church building will continue to need maintenance. I’m not saying that we shouldn’t have replaced the carpet or painted the social hall. It was time. But next time, let’s celebrate the work that God is doing in this place, that God is wearing this place out with love and foot traffic and relationship. Let us do our work quietly. Let us stop admiring the wood and stone and paint that won’t last, and start admiring God who brings new life and hope when it doesn’t look or feel pretty.
November 10, 2013
Gospel: Luke 20:27-38 1st Reading: Job 19:23-27a
2nd Reading: 2 Thessalonians 2:1-5, 13-17
We’re starting to give some thought to Thanksgiving. We were planning to do it on our own, but now Nick’s Oma is planning to be there from Northern California and she and Sterling haven’t met, yet. So now we are going to Nick’s sister’s house.
Thanksgiving dinners at our house growing up meant grandmas and grandpas, aunts, uncles and cousins. It meant the entire day before devoted to making pies, tearing apart bread for stuffing, thawing the turkey, washing table cloths and the good china, and making sure there would be enough chairs. I remember baking pies with my mom with the pumpkin from our Halloween Jack-o-lanterns and saving aside the giblets from the turkey for the stuffing or gravy. I remember our homemade centerpieces—usually something we had put together at school. I remember being both thrifty and lavish at the same time.
The past 17 Thanksgivings we've made our own traditions. When we first moved away to go to seminary, we spent those holidays on our own. We tried our parent's traditions. I remember one year making a whole turkey. It was a little overwhelming for two people. That year I even boiled the bones to make broth. We ate leftovers and froze them and ate them for months. Other years we joined with friends in their Thanksgivings. One year we had friends over who were vegan. We made a wonderful vegan pumpkin cheesecake that we've actually made a couple more times. I remember one year bringing one of our favorite sides—stir fried peppered snake beans to a friends to contribute to the dinner. And since we've been back in Oregon, we've planned Thanksgivings with our families, but every single year for 9 years one of us has been sick on Thanksgiving.
This year it is going to be different! This year I am determined to wash my hands and stay away from sickies and not work myself sick so that we can go see Oma on Thanksgiving. Still, it won't be all the same family traditions. They will certainly do their Thanksgiving. But we're vegetarian, and we have new traditions that we have created. Maybe we’ll bring pumpkin vegan cheesecake or stir fried peppered snake beans. The reading from 2 Thessalonians says to “hold fast to the traditions that you were taught.” This makes me a little bit nervous, because we've departed from the traditions of our families and made our own traditions in our family. And I get nervous because sometimes traditions can be distractions from the will of God for churches instead of helping to bring us closer to God. The truth is, traditions can be both good and bad.
The best of our traditions give us an anchor to the past and all that was good about it. They give us a memory of our history and a link to the ones we've loved both living and living in the next life. They remind us of why we're here. And they give us something to do when we otherwise might not know what to do. When we were living away from family and friends, we tried those traditions and sometimes they just made us more homesick, but other times they connected us in meaningful ways. It was a tradition to call home on any holiday—a chance to reconnect and say, “I love you.” I think of our traditions around death—sending sympathy cards, bringing food, praying, remembering. Those traditions bring so much comfort and closure, help the living to find peace, find meaning in life and death and suffering and grief, bring people together so they know they aren't alone, and eventually move forward with hope.
The worst of our traditions has us stuck in the past, rigid, thinking this is the only way to do things, feeling lost if the ritual isn't quite done the way we expected, and disconnected or angry at people who have different traditions. In the Gospel for today, the Sadducees ask about a tradition, marriage. They don't really care about the answer to their question—they are just trying to pull a gotcha on Jesus. It doesn't fit with these traditions that Paul is saying are so important. Of course Jesus isn't shaken. He points out that marriage is a tradition that is for this age. It is to help order society, to protect women and children, and so baby daddies can make sure those are their genes they are passing on. Jesus is saying that that our traditions serve a purpose and that is to make sure all are cared for. It's a kind of buddy system to make sure we are all safe. It is a system to make sure that all have life abundant. That's what resurrection is for, too. It is to ensure life abundant for all. In the age to come, we'll all be living in resurrection, so we don't need this imperfect institution of marriage to make sure that all have life, because we all will by definition.
What is this resurrection life that Jesus is talking about? Do we have to die to experience resurrection? No. We can experience it to a certain extent in marriage. When marriage really works like it is supposed to, it honors and protects all involved. And we are invited to live resurrection more fully in all our relationships. Jesus has ushered in this new age where we are all related to each other—where we are all brothers and sisters, as responsible for one another's welfare as if they were our own families. So does this mean we just throw away our old traditions? No. They still can help guide us. They can help us not spread ourselves too thin. They help dictate who we relate to, because we can't relate to everyone. We start with those in our immediate vicinity. “Love your neighbor as yourself.”
I don’t know if it is a tradition yet that we gather food for Backpack Buddies at Milwaukie Elementary. But it is certainly a tradition to feed and care for the hungry. They are our neighbor kids. Their well-being closely relates to our well being and the well being of our communities. But since Jesus is ushering in a new era where everyone is our neighbor, we also write to our legislators about continuing to fund food stamps and our church sends offerings for hungry children around the world and we carry a granola bar and some clean socks to hand to people begging at the corner when we're about to get on the freeway. Resurrection life can be lived in so many ways. There is no one right way to do it. Different situations call for different ways of living it. It is the resurrection life that is the tradition that we are to hold fast to, rather than getting caught up in the specifics. Some might give to Backpack buddies, some might sing in the choir, some might go vegetarian, some might give up their car. There are just so many options in the tradition of living the resurrection life that Jesus offers us.
Resurrection life gives us the benefit of the past and all that we’ve learned and been raised with without getting stuck to it, always looking back to better days. And Resurrection life keeps us hopeful about the future without getting into all the specifics of what it will be like in this life or the next, which we just can’t know and don’t need to. Resurrection life is living right now with what we’ve got, honoring our traditions to be self-sacrificing, generous, grateful, loving, unafraid, and alive.
Jesus gives us resurrection life right now, not just after we die. It is an opportunity for the living. Jesus gives us all this life in the present moment so that all our Thanksgivings can be appreciation of all that God has given us. And even when we do get stuck in the past or future, or forget to thank God, or get dragged down in the minutiae of the place settings or recipes or in an argument over the football game or who is coming and who isn’t, still God loves us and sends the Son to show us that love and to welcome us to God’s Thanksgiving dinner so that we can welcome others and make sure that all are fed and have access to resurrection life today.
2nd Reading: 2 Thessalonians 2:1-5, 13-17
We’re starting to give some thought to Thanksgiving. We were planning to do it on our own, but now Nick’s Oma is planning to be there from Northern California and she and Sterling haven’t met, yet. So now we are going to Nick’s sister’s house.
Thanksgiving dinners at our house growing up meant grandmas and grandpas, aunts, uncles and cousins. It meant the entire day before devoted to making pies, tearing apart bread for stuffing, thawing the turkey, washing table cloths and the good china, and making sure there would be enough chairs. I remember baking pies with my mom with the pumpkin from our Halloween Jack-o-lanterns and saving aside the giblets from the turkey for the stuffing or gravy. I remember our homemade centerpieces—usually something we had put together at school. I remember being both thrifty and lavish at the same time.
The past 17 Thanksgivings we've made our own traditions. When we first moved away to go to seminary, we spent those holidays on our own. We tried our parent's traditions. I remember one year making a whole turkey. It was a little overwhelming for two people. That year I even boiled the bones to make broth. We ate leftovers and froze them and ate them for months. Other years we joined with friends in their Thanksgivings. One year we had friends over who were vegan. We made a wonderful vegan pumpkin cheesecake that we've actually made a couple more times. I remember one year bringing one of our favorite sides—stir fried peppered snake beans to a friends to contribute to the dinner. And since we've been back in Oregon, we've planned Thanksgivings with our families, but every single year for 9 years one of us has been sick on Thanksgiving.
This year it is going to be different! This year I am determined to wash my hands and stay away from sickies and not work myself sick so that we can go see Oma on Thanksgiving. Still, it won't be all the same family traditions. They will certainly do their Thanksgiving. But we're vegetarian, and we have new traditions that we have created. Maybe we’ll bring pumpkin vegan cheesecake or stir fried peppered snake beans. The reading from 2 Thessalonians says to “hold fast to the traditions that you were taught.” This makes me a little bit nervous, because we've departed from the traditions of our families and made our own traditions in our family. And I get nervous because sometimes traditions can be distractions from the will of God for churches instead of helping to bring us closer to God. The truth is, traditions can be both good and bad.
The best of our traditions give us an anchor to the past and all that was good about it. They give us a memory of our history and a link to the ones we've loved both living and living in the next life. They remind us of why we're here. And they give us something to do when we otherwise might not know what to do. When we were living away from family and friends, we tried those traditions and sometimes they just made us more homesick, but other times they connected us in meaningful ways. It was a tradition to call home on any holiday—a chance to reconnect and say, “I love you.” I think of our traditions around death—sending sympathy cards, bringing food, praying, remembering. Those traditions bring so much comfort and closure, help the living to find peace, find meaning in life and death and suffering and grief, bring people together so they know they aren't alone, and eventually move forward with hope.
The worst of our traditions has us stuck in the past, rigid, thinking this is the only way to do things, feeling lost if the ritual isn't quite done the way we expected, and disconnected or angry at people who have different traditions. In the Gospel for today, the Sadducees ask about a tradition, marriage. They don't really care about the answer to their question—they are just trying to pull a gotcha on Jesus. It doesn't fit with these traditions that Paul is saying are so important. Of course Jesus isn't shaken. He points out that marriage is a tradition that is for this age. It is to help order society, to protect women and children, and so baby daddies can make sure those are their genes they are passing on. Jesus is saying that that our traditions serve a purpose and that is to make sure all are cared for. It's a kind of buddy system to make sure we are all safe. It is a system to make sure that all have life abundant. That's what resurrection is for, too. It is to ensure life abundant for all. In the age to come, we'll all be living in resurrection, so we don't need this imperfect institution of marriage to make sure that all have life, because we all will by definition.
What is this resurrection life that Jesus is talking about? Do we have to die to experience resurrection? No. We can experience it to a certain extent in marriage. When marriage really works like it is supposed to, it honors and protects all involved. And we are invited to live resurrection more fully in all our relationships. Jesus has ushered in this new age where we are all related to each other—where we are all brothers and sisters, as responsible for one another's welfare as if they were our own families. So does this mean we just throw away our old traditions? No. They still can help guide us. They can help us not spread ourselves too thin. They help dictate who we relate to, because we can't relate to everyone. We start with those in our immediate vicinity. “Love your neighbor as yourself.”
I don’t know if it is a tradition yet that we gather food for Backpack Buddies at Milwaukie Elementary. But it is certainly a tradition to feed and care for the hungry. They are our neighbor kids. Their well-being closely relates to our well being and the well being of our communities. But since Jesus is ushering in a new era where everyone is our neighbor, we also write to our legislators about continuing to fund food stamps and our church sends offerings for hungry children around the world and we carry a granola bar and some clean socks to hand to people begging at the corner when we're about to get on the freeway. Resurrection life can be lived in so many ways. There is no one right way to do it. Different situations call for different ways of living it. It is the resurrection life that is the tradition that we are to hold fast to, rather than getting caught up in the specifics. Some might give to Backpack buddies, some might sing in the choir, some might go vegetarian, some might give up their car. There are just so many options in the tradition of living the resurrection life that Jesus offers us.
Resurrection life gives us the benefit of the past and all that we’ve learned and been raised with without getting stuck to it, always looking back to better days. And Resurrection life keeps us hopeful about the future without getting into all the specifics of what it will be like in this life or the next, which we just can’t know and don’t need to. Resurrection life is living right now with what we’ve got, honoring our traditions to be self-sacrificing, generous, grateful, loving, unafraid, and alive.
Jesus gives us resurrection life right now, not just after we die. It is an opportunity for the living. Jesus gives us all this life in the present moment so that all our Thanksgivings can be appreciation of all that God has given us. And even when we do get stuck in the past or future, or forget to thank God, or get dragged down in the minutiae of the place settings or recipes or in an argument over the football game or who is coming and who isn’t, still God loves us and sends the Son to show us that love and to welcome us to God’s Thanksgiving dinner so that we can welcome others and make sure that all are fed and have access to resurrection life today.
Wednesday, November 6, 2013
November 3, 2013
Gospel: Luke 6:20-31
1st Reading: Daniel 7:1-3, 15-18
2nd Reading: Ephesians 1:11-23
When I read the Beatitudes this week, I was reminded of the bumper sticker, “Wag more, bark less.” To me another way of saying that is, “more blessing, less woe.” I think we’re probably all more comfortable with Matthew’s version of the Beatitudes. He leaves out the woes for one thing. Why does Luke have to be so negative? And Matthew spiritualizes the blessings so that those of us who are actually wealthy have a way of accessing God’s blessing. Matthew quotes Jesus as saying, “Blessed are the poor in spirit.” That way you don’t actually have to be materially poor to know God’s blessing. And he says, “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness.” That way we don’t really have to be hungry to feel included in this blessing.
It is easy to feel guilty or excluded when we read Luke’s version and stomp off and pout, but I think it is worth sticking with and looking into, because Jesus really rejects our priorities and shows us a whole new way of looking at the world that has plenty of blessing for everyone. The first thing to remember is that this is from Jesus’ Sermon on the Plain. Matthew has a sermon on the Mount to link Jesus with Moses, who got the Ten Commandments from the mountain. Luke’s equivalent is the Sermon on the Plain. This location says something about leveling the playing field and making everyone equal. The Sermon on the Plain, like the Sermon on the Mount, is Jesus’ inaugural address. This is the place where he lays out his agenda, which also God’s agenda. He’s giving a heads-up about the ministry he is about to undertake. It isn’t going to have the same values that most people do. It is going to turn the order of things on its head. It is going to be unexpected and shocking.
Next, we should note that Jesus is addressing his Disciples. He really wants them to know what they are getting into. And he’s affirming all that they will face. They have already given everything up—they are poor. They shouldn’t see that as a sign of woe, but know that God favors them and is looking out for them. They will weep—especially they will weep for Jesus when he is hung on the tree and they will wonder if all they do meant anything at all. Jesus is telling them not to despair. They will be hungry. That isn’t a sign to give up. God will not forget them. They will definitely be hated, excluded, reviled, and defamed. And not only these Disciples, but all these things have happened to the community that Luke is writing to. They have gone through every hardship for the sake of the Gospel. They must be feeling utterly defeated and maybe even ready to give up. But then Luke shares this speech of Jesus’ with them in the hopes that it will lift their spirits and help them continue to do God’s work.
We all understand these blessings, to a certain level. On a page of “Wag more, bark less” T-shirts was another with an excited dog that said, “Happy is the new rich.” We know it is better to be happy than rich and that some poor people we know are some of the most generous people we know.
When I think of times that I have been in mourning, the whole world looks different. I don’t think it is the world that has changed, but me. You know when you are mourning, and you wonder how people can just go on with life as if nothing has changed, when everything has changed for you. It is the one time you look around and wonder who else is mourning a loss. It is hard to believe the idle chatter on the radio, in the grocery store, at work, and among your friends. It reminds us of what is important. It helps us tune in to other’s grief. It makes us see the world in a different way. That is the blessing of weeping. It opens our eyes. It helps us to be more compassionate. We are assured of God’s blessing and presence when we are weeping.
So now we come to the hard part—the woes. Even if I am not rich, full, laughing, or respected and loved, I want to be. Those are the goals. That is what success looks like. Much of the time, I am all those things. Jesus reminds us that those states are not the point of life. First, those states are temporary. Circumstances change. When we come to rely on our wealth, our full cupboards and bellies, the praise that others heap on us, we will find they don’t hold up. Sooner or later we will be hungry, we will be sad, we won’t please someone, and then where will we be? Jesus reminds us that to be rich is a choice. The poor can’t just decide to be rich. But the rich do have a choice and could give it away to help other people and live simply. The poor have no choice but to rely on God. The rich can pretend to be self-sufficient. The woes of the rich, the full, the laughing, and those that are spoken well of, is the pitfalls and temptations that come with them. We can so easily get used to those states, think that we deserve these states, put all our efforts into maintaining these states, and forget God’s priorities which are absolutely the opposite of ours.
Think of all Jesus represented. He could have come as rich and powerful and always laughing and everyone wanting to be with him. He wasn’t any of those things. People like that are a dime a dozen He came because of people like that who have no compassion for others, and whose priorities don’t help the world become a better place for everyone. He came to spread blessing far and wide and to reduce the woes that people face in hunger and inequality and suffering. And Jesus’ priorities and way of doing things is further explained in the rest of the reading. He says to love your enemies—love needs to beyond our own social circle, beyond those who do good to us. God has done this for us, continually. We made ourselves into God’s enemies when we hurt others and neglect those who need our help, yet God comes to us and forgives us and gives us new life and another chance to serve and to be in God’s loving family. Of course, Jesus was struck on the cheek. He turned the other cheek—not as a doormat asking to be hit again, but that he wouldn’t back down, and he wouldn’t resort to violence, either. He gave his life for those who rejected him and raised us all to new life. Now we live with new priorities of sharing that new life and blessing with others.
How do we pass on the blessing we’ve received rather than increase people’s woes? Each Sunday when we leave church, we receive a blessing, “The LORD bless you and keep you.” What does it mean for us to share blessing with others. It means sharing material wealth. It means sharing time in building relationships. It means giving permission and approval for others to find their own path. It means showing appreciation for what others do and who others are in our lives. It means having compassion for others and weeping with them. It means making sacrifices so that others can know what it is like to laugh and be full and be consoled. It means doing unto others, not as they have done to us, but as we would have them do to us. It means barking less, complaining less, feeling sorry for ourselves less, and being violent less. It means wagging more, giving approval more, loving more, and sharing more.
1st Reading: Daniel 7:1-3, 15-18
2nd Reading: Ephesians 1:11-23
When I read the Beatitudes this week, I was reminded of the bumper sticker, “Wag more, bark less.” To me another way of saying that is, “more blessing, less woe.” I think we’re probably all more comfortable with Matthew’s version of the Beatitudes. He leaves out the woes for one thing. Why does Luke have to be so negative? And Matthew spiritualizes the blessings so that those of us who are actually wealthy have a way of accessing God’s blessing. Matthew quotes Jesus as saying, “Blessed are the poor in spirit.” That way you don’t actually have to be materially poor to know God’s blessing. And he says, “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness.” That way we don’t really have to be hungry to feel included in this blessing.
It is easy to feel guilty or excluded when we read Luke’s version and stomp off and pout, but I think it is worth sticking with and looking into, because Jesus really rejects our priorities and shows us a whole new way of looking at the world that has plenty of blessing for everyone. The first thing to remember is that this is from Jesus’ Sermon on the Plain. Matthew has a sermon on the Mount to link Jesus with Moses, who got the Ten Commandments from the mountain. Luke’s equivalent is the Sermon on the Plain. This location says something about leveling the playing field and making everyone equal. The Sermon on the Plain, like the Sermon on the Mount, is Jesus’ inaugural address. This is the place where he lays out his agenda, which also God’s agenda. He’s giving a heads-up about the ministry he is about to undertake. It isn’t going to have the same values that most people do. It is going to turn the order of things on its head. It is going to be unexpected and shocking.
Next, we should note that Jesus is addressing his Disciples. He really wants them to know what they are getting into. And he’s affirming all that they will face. They have already given everything up—they are poor. They shouldn’t see that as a sign of woe, but know that God favors them and is looking out for them. They will weep—especially they will weep for Jesus when he is hung on the tree and they will wonder if all they do meant anything at all. Jesus is telling them not to despair. They will be hungry. That isn’t a sign to give up. God will not forget them. They will definitely be hated, excluded, reviled, and defamed. And not only these Disciples, but all these things have happened to the community that Luke is writing to. They have gone through every hardship for the sake of the Gospel. They must be feeling utterly defeated and maybe even ready to give up. But then Luke shares this speech of Jesus’ with them in the hopes that it will lift their spirits and help them continue to do God’s work.
We all understand these blessings, to a certain level. On a page of “Wag more, bark less” T-shirts was another with an excited dog that said, “Happy is the new rich.” We know it is better to be happy than rich and that some poor people we know are some of the most generous people we know.
When I think of times that I have been in mourning, the whole world looks different. I don’t think it is the world that has changed, but me. You know when you are mourning, and you wonder how people can just go on with life as if nothing has changed, when everything has changed for you. It is the one time you look around and wonder who else is mourning a loss. It is hard to believe the idle chatter on the radio, in the grocery store, at work, and among your friends. It reminds us of what is important. It helps us tune in to other’s grief. It makes us see the world in a different way. That is the blessing of weeping. It opens our eyes. It helps us to be more compassionate. We are assured of God’s blessing and presence when we are weeping.
So now we come to the hard part—the woes. Even if I am not rich, full, laughing, or respected and loved, I want to be. Those are the goals. That is what success looks like. Much of the time, I am all those things. Jesus reminds us that those states are not the point of life. First, those states are temporary. Circumstances change. When we come to rely on our wealth, our full cupboards and bellies, the praise that others heap on us, we will find they don’t hold up. Sooner or later we will be hungry, we will be sad, we won’t please someone, and then where will we be? Jesus reminds us that to be rich is a choice. The poor can’t just decide to be rich. But the rich do have a choice and could give it away to help other people and live simply. The poor have no choice but to rely on God. The rich can pretend to be self-sufficient. The woes of the rich, the full, the laughing, and those that are spoken well of, is the pitfalls and temptations that come with them. We can so easily get used to those states, think that we deserve these states, put all our efforts into maintaining these states, and forget God’s priorities which are absolutely the opposite of ours.
Think of all Jesus represented. He could have come as rich and powerful and always laughing and everyone wanting to be with him. He wasn’t any of those things. People like that are a dime a dozen He came because of people like that who have no compassion for others, and whose priorities don’t help the world become a better place for everyone. He came to spread blessing far and wide and to reduce the woes that people face in hunger and inequality and suffering. And Jesus’ priorities and way of doing things is further explained in the rest of the reading. He says to love your enemies—love needs to beyond our own social circle, beyond those who do good to us. God has done this for us, continually. We made ourselves into God’s enemies when we hurt others and neglect those who need our help, yet God comes to us and forgives us and gives us new life and another chance to serve and to be in God’s loving family. Of course, Jesus was struck on the cheek. He turned the other cheek—not as a doormat asking to be hit again, but that he wouldn’t back down, and he wouldn’t resort to violence, either. He gave his life for those who rejected him and raised us all to new life. Now we live with new priorities of sharing that new life and blessing with others.
How do we pass on the blessing we’ve received rather than increase people’s woes? Each Sunday when we leave church, we receive a blessing, “The LORD bless you and keep you.” What does it mean for us to share blessing with others. It means sharing material wealth. It means sharing time in building relationships. It means giving permission and approval for others to find their own path. It means showing appreciation for what others do and who others are in our lives. It means having compassion for others and weeping with them. It means making sacrifices so that others can know what it is like to laugh and be full and be consoled. It means doing unto others, not as they have done to us, but as we would have them do to us. It means barking less, complaining less, feeling sorry for ourselves less, and being violent less. It means wagging more, giving approval more, loving more, and sharing more.
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