October 23, 2011 Aimee Bruno Gospel: Matthew 22:34-46 Psalm 1
1st Reading: Leviticus 19:1-2, 15-18 2nd Reading: 1 Thessalonians 2:1-8
I almost wish it was Valentine’s Day, today, because we have here in the readings a series of love letters. We’ve got Paul’s love letter to the Thessalonians. Even though we didn’t read it, we’ve got in Leviticus God’s love letter to the Israelites showing them how to love each other. And in the Gospel, we have an invitation to pour out our heart to God and to our neighbor and to ourselves in love.
I remember being a kid at Valentine’s Day and having to fill out a valentine for every kid in class. Sometimes it was a stretch to think of something nice to say about every single person, but a good exercise to remember that each person had their good qualities. Of course my best friends always got the cuter valentines—there was a Valentine hierarchy, but everyone was included.
Paul is giving the best Valentine to the Thessalonians. He even complains a little about the Philippians there, although you wouldn’t know from reading his letter to the Philippians that there was a problem. It probably is not a good idea in your love letters to each other and loving interactions with each other to drag in some complaint about someone else. We call that triangulation. Nowadays we know that if someone comes to us like this, the proper thing to say is “Paul, maybe you want to talk to the Philippians about that.” Otherwise we end up participating in gossip and it never gets resolved.
Paul is speaking so tenderly to the Thessalonians. He cares so much for them that he wants to continue to share the Gospel with them and encourage them and feels they will be receptive. He is confident in their relationship. He urges them to share what they’ve learned with others and take that love to another level. He has given to them of his own self, just as Christ gave of himself, and expects them also to give of themselves to others.
He uses images of a wet nurse, a strikingly feminine image to show how deep his feelings go just like the deep bond between a mother and child, including the giving of one’s very body, a physical connection and sharing life. Maybe preaching about breast feeding might make some people squirm, but I sure have been reading a lot about it lately trying to prepare myself. It is the most amazing process in that the mother makes the exact nutrition that the baby needs from the early nutrient rich colostrum that gives an immunity boost, to a transitional milk, and then the more watery milk that is the right mixture of sugars and vitamins and fats to nourish the baby as it grows bigger. As the baby’s needs change, the mother’s milk production changes. Then there is the physical connection, the eye contact, the getting to know and trust each other, the mother being available when she’s needed and the baby having that security. All this creates such a strong bond and a good, healthy beginning to life until the baby can get its nutritional and physical needs met in a different way. Maybe we could look at that mother’s milk as a love letter to her child. Paul uses this image to show how he and the Thessalonians have a mutual relationship in which he provides what they need to start out in their ministry and how they will grow and develop and maybe even someday provide that healthy start for another new life that will grow and thrive and share the good news of God’s love.
Then we come to the Gospel. We are still in the section of Matthew after he’s cleared out the temple and made everyone really mad and they are still trying to catch him in a trap. He confronts their malice with a picture of love. They are being less than loving. They are trying to trick God. Their whole lives are based on selfishness and greed rather than loving their neighbor. Jesus is reminding them about love being at the center of it all. He says to love God with every part of their being. Jesus says we should love God with the entirety of the heart, without holding anything back, giving all attention and feeling to God. Jesus says we should love God spiritually, with all our soul, not holding anything back, giving all our spiritual life to God’s purpose. And he says we should love God with the entirety of our mind. Loving God and using our brains are not mutually exclusive.
But it can’t just be about loving God—it has to come through and be shown in the love of our neighbor, too, and in our love of ourselves. Love should be reflected in every area of our lives. It can be a feeling we have toward another, although we are to be loving regardless of how we feel. Love ought to be reflected in our actions toward ourselves and others. Love ought to be a key part of our spiritual lives, our physical lives, our work and our play. It is at the root of everything we do.
Sometimes the hardest thing can be to love ourselves. We are taught to give of ourselves, make sacrifices, disregard our own needs. But look how Jesus loved himself. He loved himself so that he never compromised who he was for others. He was self-assured and centered in love. He used his brain and his gifts and he didn’t hide any of that. He took breaks when he needed it, going to pray by himself and to rest. He took care of himself and even took time to go and be with family and go to parties and weddings. Those of us who would rather give, give, give and never care for ourselves, can’t find any backing in scripture to do that. I would encourage you to find that love to take care of your own needs and don’t put them off. When we’ve cared for ourselves, that equips us better to care for others. Who can know what it means to love a neighbor without knowing what it means to love ourselves, too?
So now to loving our neighbor: This can also have its own difficulties and pitfalls. It isn’t always clear what is the loving thing to do. In order to love someone, do you have to like them? What about tough love? Where do you draw the line with helping a friend or family member? Should you let people walk all over you and take advantage of you because of this commandment to love? We didn’t read from Leviticus this morning, but I’d like to encourage you to take it home and read it. It gives some hints about what is the loving thing to do. It talks about being fair and impartial. It reminds us not to speak ill of our neighbor or to lie or kill. It reminds us not to harbor hatred for others. It advises us to warn our neighbor in a loving way when they are causing problems. It reminds us to forgive and not to judge.
We miss part of the context here because we don’t live in that day and time, but I get to look this stuff up and tell you about it. Not being partial to the poor or deferring to the great means that we put everyone on equal ground. Justice means that we all start out the same with all the same resources, so it does mean feeding the poor and providing housing for the homeless and sheltering the widow and the orphan. It means equalizing us. It was a little like socialism.
The main thing Leviticus reminds us of is that we are not in charge, but that God is our LORD. God at the center means that love is at the center. We’re going to have to decide for ourselves how we live out this love. What love looks like from one day to the next may not be exactly the same thing. We learn through trial and error what loving really is. We never write the perfect love letter, but are always in the process of composing it and decorating it with glitter and lipstick kisses. But we don’t hold that letter back because it is imperfect. We keep on giving it and receiving them in return until God enfolds us in God’s most perfect love.
Sunday, October 23, 2011
Sunday, October 16, 2011
Sermon for October 16, 2011
October 16, 2011 Gospel: Matthew 22:15-22 Psalm 96:1-13
1st Reading: Isaiah 45:1-7 2nd Reading: 1 Thessalonians 1:1-10
Really all of October has been Stewardship Month. We snuck it in on you, without you really knowing it. On the 2nd, we blessed the pets and thanked God for all of God’s creation. We talked and prayed about taking care of the earth and the animals that are gifts from God to borrow for a little while. Last week, we used the word “Rejoice” a lot and thought more about what it means to give thanks to God as a way of life. Today is commitment Sunday where we make out our estimate of giving cards and let the church know about how much we each intend to give in the coming year so we can make a realistic budget.
Stewardship has to do with God being in charge and us being stewards. It is about how we use what God has made and let us borrow. It is about God entrusting so much to us, and how we use and share and manage all that.
Let me go through the readings one by one and see what they each have to say about Stewardship. The first reading from Isaiah has the novel concept that God is the only God. The first commandment says, “You shall have no other gods before me.” It kind of sounds like there could be other gods, but Yahweh is the supreme. Here, God is saying that’s it—there is only one God.
Some scholars believe that the devil or Satan represents another god. It can be hard to answer the question about why bad things happen if you only have one God who is good. Some people answer that by explaining evil forces with the concept of the devil. Here in Isaiah, God claims responsibility for both the good and the bad, the light and the darkness, the prosperity and the woe. It can all be attributed to God.
I usually attribute all the good to God and all the bad to humankind. But who is to say what is good or bad since almost everything has some good and bad. And God can make good out of a bad situation. Even a victim of molestation can come through life as a survivor and help others in a similar situation. Joseph in the Old Testament said to his brothers, “What you intended for bad (selling him into slavery) God intended for good.” God used the evil hatred of the brothers to save a whole generation of people from starvation. It is no good to tell someone in the midst of a horrible situation that God intends it for good. However, looking for the good in any situation, or understanding that something good may come out of it later can be a helpful way to get yourself through something horrific. I also don’t believe that just because God makes something good out of it that God caused it in the first place. God gives free will and we choose evil sometimes, but God can make something good out of it.
So if there is only one God, who created everything, then everything belongs to God. That is our stewardship implication here. It is all God’s.
In the second lesson the major stewardship implication has to do with turning “to God from idols to serve a living and true God.” Of course one of the major idols we serve can be our money. It is a false god and we put our trust in our money more than anything else. We think it can make us secure. We rely on it. We try to get more of it. We are nice to people who have more of it. We use it to get people to do what we want. And we put a lot of trust in our possessions. The more money we have the more possessions we can get. We gather more junk around us than we can possibly use and we get caught up in storing it and keeping it up and acquiring new and better stuff and we get distracted. But also the more disposable money we have, the more people we can help and the more good we can do in our neighborhood and around the world. We can’t use it as an idol that we worship because then it controls us. Instead if we see it as a tool we can use for good, then we control it and hopefully make a better world from it.
Now we come to the Gospel. This is right after Jesus cleansed the temple and got everyone all worked up and determined to arrest him. The Pharisees and Herodians are trying to catch him in a trap. They ask him if they should pay taxes or not. This is sure to get him! If he says pay taxes, he is telling them to honor Caesar who is oppressing the Israelites and claiming to be god. If he says don’t pay taxes, he is telling them all to commit treason and rebel against Rome which will then attack Israel and destroy it.
Instead, Jesus puts them on the spot. He asks them to show him a coin of the empire. By doing so, they reveal that they are breaking the rule against graven images in the temple. They also show that they are profiteers of this temple system and that it is corrupt and they are part of the problem. This temple system, where they change the graven image money into temple money and sold animals for the sacrifices kept the Pharisees and Herodians in power and all the little people had to pay the fee to have any access to God.
Then Jesus tells them a riddle. He’s going to let them figure it out for themselves. He says, “Give to the emperor the things that are the emperors and to God the things that are God’s.” So what does that mean? God made everything, everything is God’s. Give God everything. So what is the emperor’s? He needs his image stamped all over everything—that’s how insecure he is. And the coin had the words in scripted on it saying that Caesar is god. He’s saying to give Caesar meaningless words and images and titles and give him a boost to his ego if that’s what the inferior guy needs. God is above all that. God has already left God’s mark on absolutely everything by giving it life, creativity, power, etc.
So that leaves the question for us about where our loyalty lies. Can we be good Christians and good citizens, at the same time? Can we be loyal to our country and God? It is a question that I’m not going to answer for you—I’d rather imitate Jesus on this one than stick my neck out. But also, God gave you a brain to decide.
It is clear that we should be loyal to God first. God gave us everything—didn’t withhold even his own Son. God made everything and shares with us. We can trust God completely so that’s where our loyalty goes first. That doesn’t mean we can’t also be loyal to our country. But we have to remember that our country is fallible. It is human-made and has flaws and we can’t always rely on it to protect us or look out for our best interests or to be loving and just. There are many times we can rely on it to do that, but at times it will fail to do that. So we have to be ready to ask the hard questions of our country and our citizens and understand our motivations and use our voice and our vote to try to make this country better, more just and fair and compassionate. We can also give to God what is God’s—everything, and still have something to give to our country, our service, our hope, our vote, our protest, our critique. And in the places our God and our country are on the same page we can rejoice.
The same is true of our church. Giving to our church may not necessarily be giving to God. Yet, just as we make up our country, we are the church. We have a say here to be more loving and compassionate and generous and to make decisions about where our financial gifts go. Sometimes I’m surprised that God only asks for 10% back from each of us. In our congregation we give more than 10% of your gifts to help others here and around the world between the benevolence we give to the Oregon Synod and King’s Cupboard, Backpack Buddies, Pastor’s Discretionary Fund and various other people and groups that you support in your giving when you write that on the memo line of your check or on your envelope. We also know that many of you give outside the church to places like Habitat for Humanity, The Sierra Club, The Heiffer Project and on and on, as well as volunteering your time to help others. We can also honor God when we use our money to support local businesses, buy American and/or sustainable products. We get to try to use everything for God’s glory. God has given us everything we have, let us share and use those gifts of God in ways that would please God and help our neighbor and give life to those around us.
My grandma used to give us $20 each year when we started school. That was a lot of money to us and we could really make it stretch. When we went as a family to spend that money on school clothes mom always reminded us to use it in a way that Grandma would have appreciated. Even though she had given it as a gift, we recognized how special a gift that was, and wanted to use it in the way she would have wanted us to. In the same way, God gives us many gifts, everything we have. And we can remember to use it in ways that please God and make our whole lives a “thank-you” note to God for all he has given us.
1st Reading: Isaiah 45:1-7 2nd Reading: 1 Thessalonians 1:1-10
Really all of October has been Stewardship Month. We snuck it in on you, without you really knowing it. On the 2nd, we blessed the pets and thanked God for all of God’s creation. We talked and prayed about taking care of the earth and the animals that are gifts from God to borrow for a little while. Last week, we used the word “Rejoice” a lot and thought more about what it means to give thanks to God as a way of life. Today is commitment Sunday where we make out our estimate of giving cards and let the church know about how much we each intend to give in the coming year so we can make a realistic budget.
Stewardship has to do with God being in charge and us being stewards. It is about how we use what God has made and let us borrow. It is about God entrusting so much to us, and how we use and share and manage all that.
Let me go through the readings one by one and see what they each have to say about Stewardship. The first reading from Isaiah has the novel concept that God is the only God. The first commandment says, “You shall have no other gods before me.” It kind of sounds like there could be other gods, but Yahweh is the supreme. Here, God is saying that’s it—there is only one God.
Some scholars believe that the devil or Satan represents another god. It can be hard to answer the question about why bad things happen if you only have one God who is good. Some people answer that by explaining evil forces with the concept of the devil. Here in Isaiah, God claims responsibility for both the good and the bad, the light and the darkness, the prosperity and the woe. It can all be attributed to God.
I usually attribute all the good to God and all the bad to humankind. But who is to say what is good or bad since almost everything has some good and bad. And God can make good out of a bad situation. Even a victim of molestation can come through life as a survivor and help others in a similar situation. Joseph in the Old Testament said to his brothers, “What you intended for bad (selling him into slavery) God intended for good.” God used the evil hatred of the brothers to save a whole generation of people from starvation. It is no good to tell someone in the midst of a horrible situation that God intends it for good. However, looking for the good in any situation, or understanding that something good may come out of it later can be a helpful way to get yourself through something horrific. I also don’t believe that just because God makes something good out of it that God caused it in the first place. God gives free will and we choose evil sometimes, but God can make something good out of it.
So if there is only one God, who created everything, then everything belongs to God. That is our stewardship implication here. It is all God’s.
In the second lesson the major stewardship implication has to do with turning “to God from idols to serve a living and true God.” Of course one of the major idols we serve can be our money. It is a false god and we put our trust in our money more than anything else. We think it can make us secure. We rely on it. We try to get more of it. We are nice to people who have more of it. We use it to get people to do what we want. And we put a lot of trust in our possessions. The more money we have the more possessions we can get. We gather more junk around us than we can possibly use and we get caught up in storing it and keeping it up and acquiring new and better stuff and we get distracted. But also the more disposable money we have, the more people we can help and the more good we can do in our neighborhood and around the world. We can’t use it as an idol that we worship because then it controls us. Instead if we see it as a tool we can use for good, then we control it and hopefully make a better world from it.
Now we come to the Gospel. This is right after Jesus cleansed the temple and got everyone all worked up and determined to arrest him. The Pharisees and Herodians are trying to catch him in a trap. They ask him if they should pay taxes or not. This is sure to get him! If he says pay taxes, he is telling them to honor Caesar who is oppressing the Israelites and claiming to be god. If he says don’t pay taxes, he is telling them all to commit treason and rebel against Rome which will then attack Israel and destroy it.
Instead, Jesus puts them on the spot. He asks them to show him a coin of the empire. By doing so, they reveal that they are breaking the rule against graven images in the temple. They also show that they are profiteers of this temple system and that it is corrupt and they are part of the problem. This temple system, where they change the graven image money into temple money and sold animals for the sacrifices kept the Pharisees and Herodians in power and all the little people had to pay the fee to have any access to God.
Then Jesus tells them a riddle. He’s going to let them figure it out for themselves. He says, “Give to the emperor the things that are the emperors and to God the things that are God’s.” So what does that mean? God made everything, everything is God’s. Give God everything. So what is the emperor’s? He needs his image stamped all over everything—that’s how insecure he is. And the coin had the words in scripted on it saying that Caesar is god. He’s saying to give Caesar meaningless words and images and titles and give him a boost to his ego if that’s what the inferior guy needs. God is above all that. God has already left God’s mark on absolutely everything by giving it life, creativity, power, etc.
So that leaves the question for us about where our loyalty lies. Can we be good Christians and good citizens, at the same time? Can we be loyal to our country and God? It is a question that I’m not going to answer for you—I’d rather imitate Jesus on this one than stick my neck out. But also, God gave you a brain to decide.
It is clear that we should be loyal to God first. God gave us everything—didn’t withhold even his own Son. God made everything and shares with us. We can trust God completely so that’s where our loyalty goes first. That doesn’t mean we can’t also be loyal to our country. But we have to remember that our country is fallible. It is human-made and has flaws and we can’t always rely on it to protect us or look out for our best interests or to be loving and just. There are many times we can rely on it to do that, but at times it will fail to do that. So we have to be ready to ask the hard questions of our country and our citizens and understand our motivations and use our voice and our vote to try to make this country better, more just and fair and compassionate. We can also give to God what is God’s—everything, and still have something to give to our country, our service, our hope, our vote, our protest, our critique. And in the places our God and our country are on the same page we can rejoice.
The same is true of our church. Giving to our church may not necessarily be giving to God. Yet, just as we make up our country, we are the church. We have a say here to be more loving and compassionate and generous and to make decisions about where our financial gifts go. Sometimes I’m surprised that God only asks for 10% back from each of us. In our congregation we give more than 10% of your gifts to help others here and around the world between the benevolence we give to the Oregon Synod and King’s Cupboard, Backpack Buddies, Pastor’s Discretionary Fund and various other people and groups that you support in your giving when you write that on the memo line of your check or on your envelope. We also know that many of you give outside the church to places like Habitat for Humanity, The Sierra Club, The Heiffer Project and on and on, as well as volunteering your time to help others. We can also honor God when we use our money to support local businesses, buy American and/or sustainable products. We get to try to use everything for God’s glory. God has given us everything we have, let us share and use those gifts of God in ways that would please God and help our neighbor and give life to those around us.
My grandma used to give us $20 each year when we started school. That was a lot of money to us and we could really make it stretch. When we went as a family to spend that money on school clothes mom always reminded us to use it in a way that Grandma would have appreciated. Even though she had given it as a gift, we recognized how special a gift that was, and wanted to use it in the way she would have wanted us to. In the same way, God gives us many gifts, everything we have. And we can remember to use it in ways that please God and make our whole lives a “thank-you” note to God for all he has given us.
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
Sermon for October 9, 2011
October 9, 2011 Gospel: Matthew 22:1-14 Psalm 23
1st Reading: Isaiah 25:1-9 2nd Reading: Philippians 4:1-9
“Praise” “rejoice” “let us be glad.” I, of course, wrote all this before yesterday when my dad's wife took her own life. It is certainly affecting me, but even after all that, I still stand by these words and believe joy to be a state of being that doesn’t change based on happenstance. I picked out these commands from our readings this morning because sometimes I can be too serious and sometimes I look around and wonder if we’ve come here to church to be solemn and feel guilty or to give thanks to God for how good God is. And there is no reason it can’t be both, but sometimes I look around for that joy and don’t see it on people’s faces. There is a nearby church who calls the sanctuary the “celebration center” and another one nearby that has for its baptismal font the “celebration bowl.” This word reminds us of the joy that comes from believing in God. We are a reserved people. We don’t want to look stupid. We often keep our feelings hidden, whether they are joyous or sad. We don’t want to be like those holy rollers with their Amens and Hallelujahs, do we? I remember I used to sing, “If you’re happy and you know it then your smile will surely show it” and looking around and not seeing anyone smiling. We’re Lutherans.
So let’s see does anyone have anything to praise God about today? I invite you to share one thing with your neighbor that you have to praise God about. I’d say, don’t stop here. Share that with someone else you meet this week. You can leave all the religious stuff out of it and just say how thankful you are that this or that is the case.
Isaiah is praising God for many things. God has done amazing things, made wonderful plans and carried them out. God has been a refuge—has anyone here experienced God as a refuge or a safe place? God has fed the people—we experience that every time we share the Lord’s supper, but this supper is found in every meal we eat. Let’s remember that this morning at coffee hour. Sip that cup and taste the Lord’s plan, planting those beans, the hard work that goes into growing them, the harvest, the processing of them, getting the husks off, washing and soaking and drying them, the sorting them, the roasting them, the grinding of them and the shipping and stocking and brewing. And then that feeling of coffee in your mouth, God’s plan, the third Lutheran sacrament, the goodness, the holiness, something greater than its parts. And pay attention when you eat your lunch and dinner, the texture, the flavors, the ingredients and where they came from and what it took to gather them and get them in this form, who cooked it and where the energy came from to do so. There is so much to be thankful for, to pay attention to in God’s plan for feeding us with rich food and well-aged wine. God has a plan for the future, to swallow up death, to wipe away tears. God has done so much for us and still plans to do more—much more. We have so much to smile about. We have so much to be thankful for.
Paul also tells the people of Philippi to rejoice and in case they didn’t get it, he repeats it and tells them to do it always. None of us feels like doing it all the time, but Paul seems to be saying it is a state of being, a choice. You can’t always be happy. You can’t always get what you want, or so say the Rolling Stones and they would know. It is saying whatever your circumstance, focus on the positive. Focus on what is true, honorable, just, pure, commendable, excellent, and worthy of praise. There is always something to be grumpy about or feel guilty about. Don’t dwell there. Instead, turn your thoughts toward what is positive in any situation and focus on that and you will experience God’s peace.
Now this Gospel is really puzzling. I’d almost rather not even read the ending paragraph there where the poor guy gets thrown out of the wedding but if you start throwing things out of the Bible, it gets to be a slippery slope. It seems to go against the whole parable where Jesus says that everyone is welcome, the good and the bad. It seems petty to exclude someone because of what they’re wearing. Some scholars have suggested that Matthew embellished Jesus’ story a little bit because his community was uncomfortable about including absolutely everyone. This part of the story only appears in Matthew, so maybe that could be true. He might have misremembered part of the story to fit his community.
I’m thinking, though, that maybe this guy came to the party, but he wasn’t really partying. He wasn’t really celebrating or rejoicing. His heart wasn’t in it. He wasn’t fully dressed for the wedding. He wasn’t putting any effort into it. Many times you get out of something what you put into it. It seems those wedding garments were available to everyone who came to the party. It is like he wouldn’t wear a party hat or have cake or sit and eat with the others. At a party, you have to make an effort to enjoy yourself and get into the spirit and this guy just isn’t there and he’s spoiling it for everyone else. He was just going through the motions, making faces, and being a spoil sport. So he’s asked to leave.
I wonder if sometimes we encourage people to subdue their joy and check it at the door at church. Sometimes this doesn’t seem like that joyful of a place. Other times it does. I know it is a matter of balance, but I fear more that we don’t celebrate enough than that we do so too much. When visitors come, do they sense our joy and hope and get swept up in it on a regular basis? When we sing, do we feel like smiling? Do we come in our wedding robe, in full sequins and feathers and in our shiny shoes and sparkling eyes or do we sometimes hide our lamp under a bushel? I’m sure it is a little bit of each, probably more on the reserved side.
Let me tell you some things that I have found very joyful around here lately. Little Nicholas, Barry and Ellen’s grandson, helping to read the lessons brings a smile to all our faces. It gives me joy when Jessica and Cheyenn light the candles so respectfully at the altar. I leaped for joy when Doug’s email came this week that there was no trace of his cancer on the PET scan. I smiled at the sound of the tone chimes practicing the other night. I rejoiced when our visitors last week were shown the candle table and engaged in a conversation with several standing around there. I gave much thanks to God when our office helpers showed up and gave their help while Susan is on vacation. I rejoiced to see food piling up in the barrel and the girl scout troupe come to sort it. I give thanks that my uncle is staying with my dad over the coming week and that our family comes together to support each other. I give thanks for a beautiful day yesterday. I give thanks for my wiggly fetus and all the people getting ready to welcome this new person. I smiled inside when I saw each of you drive in this morning and come in to the church. There is so much to be thankful for, to smile about, to rejoice and praise God for if we just look. And if there is any place to let it all hang out and to let your smile really show it, this is the place, God’s house, and then take that bright smile out to show others the light of Christ.
1st Reading: Isaiah 25:1-9 2nd Reading: Philippians 4:1-9
“Praise” “rejoice” “let us be glad.” I, of course, wrote all this before yesterday when my dad's wife took her own life. It is certainly affecting me, but even after all that, I still stand by these words and believe joy to be a state of being that doesn’t change based on happenstance. I picked out these commands from our readings this morning because sometimes I can be too serious and sometimes I look around and wonder if we’ve come here to church to be solemn and feel guilty or to give thanks to God for how good God is. And there is no reason it can’t be both, but sometimes I look around for that joy and don’t see it on people’s faces. There is a nearby church who calls the sanctuary the “celebration center” and another one nearby that has for its baptismal font the “celebration bowl.” This word reminds us of the joy that comes from believing in God. We are a reserved people. We don’t want to look stupid. We often keep our feelings hidden, whether they are joyous or sad. We don’t want to be like those holy rollers with their Amens and Hallelujahs, do we? I remember I used to sing, “If you’re happy and you know it then your smile will surely show it” and looking around and not seeing anyone smiling. We’re Lutherans.
So let’s see does anyone have anything to praise God about today? I invite you to share one thing with your neighbor that you have to praise God about. I’d say, don’t stop here. Share that with someone else you meet this week. You can leave all the religious stuff out of it and just say how thankful you are that this or that is the case.
Isaiah is praising God for many things. God has done amazing things, made wonderful plans and carried them out. God has been a refuge—has anyone here experienced God as a refuge or a safe place? God has fed the people—we experience that every time we share the Lord’s supper, but this supper is found in every meal we eat. Let’s remember that this morning at coffee hour. Sip that cup and taste the Lord’s plan, planting those beans, the hard work that goes into growing them, the harvest, the processing of them, getting the husks off, washing and soaking and drying them, the sorting them, the roasting them, the grinding of them and the shipping and stocking and brewing. And then that feeling of coffee in your mouth, God’s plan, the third Lutheran sacrament, the goodness, the holiness, something greater than its parts. And pay attention when you eat your lunch and dinner, the texture, the flavors, the ingredients and where they came from and what it took to gather them and get them in this form, who cooked it and where the energy came from to do so. There is so much to be thankful for, to pay attention to in God’s plan for feeding us with rich food and well-aged wine. God has a plan for the future, to swallow up death, to wipe away tears. God has done so much for us and still plans to do more—much more. We have so much to smile about. We have so much to be thankful for.
Paul also tells the people of Philippi to rejoice and in case they didn’t get it, he repeats it and tells them to do it always. None of us feels like doing it all the time, but Paul seems to be saying it is a state of being, a choice. You can’t always be happy. You can’t always get what you want, or so say the Rolling Stones and they would know. It is saying whatever your circumstance, focus on the positive. Focus on what is true, honorable, just, pure, commendable, excellent, and worthy of praise. There is always something to be grumpy about or feel guilty about. Don’t dwell there. Instead, turn your thoughts toward what is positive in any situation and focus on that and you will experience God’s peace.
Now this Gospel is really puzzling. I’d almost rather not even read the ending paragraph there where the poor guy gets thrown out of the wedding but if you start throwing things out of the Bible, it gets to be a slippery slope. It seems to go against the whole parable where Jesus says that everyone is welcome, the good and the bad. It seems petty to exclude someone because of what they’re wearing. Some scholars have suggested that Matthew embellished Jesus’ story a little bit because his community was uncomfortable about including absolutely everyone. This part of the story only appears in Matthew, so maybe that could be true. He might have misremembered part of the story to fit his community.
I’m thinking, though, that maybe this guy came to the party, but he wasn’t really partying. He wasn’t really celebrating or rejoicing. His heart wasn’t in it. He wasn’t fully dressed for the wedding. He wasn’t putting any effort into it. Many times you get out of something what you put into it. It seems those wedding garments were available to everyone who came to the party. It is like he wouldn’t wear a party hat or have cake or sit and eat with the others. At a party, you have to make an effort to enjoy yourself and get into the spirit and this guy just isn’t there and he’s spoiling it for everyone else. He was just going through the motions, making faces, and being a spoil sport. So he’s asked to leave.
I wonder if sometimes we encourage people to subdue their joy and check it at the door at church. Sometimes this doesn’t seem like that joyful of a place. Other times it does. I know it is a matter of balance, but I fear more that we don’t celebrate enough than that we do so too much. When visitors come, do they sense our joy and hope and get swept up in it on a regular basis? When we sing, do we feel like smiling? Do we come in our wedding robe, in full sequins and feathers and in our shiny shoes and sparkling eyes or do we sometimes hide our lamp under a bushel? I’m sure it is a little bit of each, probably more on the reserved side.
Let me tell you some things that I have found very joyful around here lately. Little Nicholas, Barry and Ellen’s grandson, helping to read the lessons brings a smile to all our faces. It gives me joy when Jessica and Cheyenn light the candles so respectfully at the altar. I leaped for joy when Doug’s email came this week that there was no trace of his cancer on the PET scan. I smiled at the sound of the tone chimes practicing the other night. I rejoiced when our visitors last week were shown the candle table and engaged in a conversation with several standing around there. I gave much thanks to God when our office helpers showed up and gave their help while Susan is on vacation. I rejoiced to see food piling up in the barrel and the girl scout troupe come to sort it. I give thanks that my uncle is staying with my dad over the coming week and that our family comes together to support each other. I give thanks for a beautiful day yesterday. I give thanks for my wiggly fetus and all the people getting ready to welcome this new person. I smiled inside when I saw each of you drive in this morning and come in to the church. There is so much to be thankful for, to smile about, to rejoice and praise God for if we just look. And if there is any place to let it all hang out and to let your smile really show it, this is the place, God’s house, and then take that bright smile out to show others the light of Christ.
St. Francis Day Sermon
October 2, 2011 Gospel: Matthew 21:33-46 Psalm 80:7-15
1st Reading: Isaiah 5:1-7 2nd Reading: Philippians 3:4b-14
In the past few years we’ve had a number of stray cats staying in our yard. I don’t know if this is part of the downturn in the economy that people are abandoning their pets because they can’t afford them or not spaying or neutering their animals because they can’t afford that, or just some co-incidence. Three strays have lived in our yard. I suppose they chose us because they know we’re suckers. They know cat people. They know how hard it is to say no. I hate to see an animal starving, so I’ve looked into what I can do about it. With the first cat, I called the Humane Society. At the time there was a 6 month waiting period for them to receive strays. I put a flier around the neighborhood and asked people of it was their cat. I could have taken “Stachey”—named for his mustache—to the pound, but the likelihood that a perfectly healthy, beautiful cat would be euthanized was too much to bear. And I took him to the vet to see if he had a microchip. He didn’t, but he panicked and I learned he was feral—had probably never been indoors before and too wild to sterilize. We gave him to someone who lived out in the woods and needed a barn cat, because he had killed a squirrel and several birds, but he instantly ran away and we don’t know what became of him. Now that we have two other strays in our yard, we are feeding one and our neighbor is feeding the other and I don’t really know what else to do.
Maybe it is because we know what it is like to be rejected that we latch on to these creatures who need us. Maybe we have soft hearts. Maybe we are suckers. Maybe we have compassion.
The Gospel reading for this morning says, “The stone that the builders rejected has become the cornerstone.” God knows what it is like to be rejected. In the first reading, God puts in all this hard work constructing a vineyard. The rocks are cleared. The vines are planted. The watchtower is built. The wine vat is in place. The fence goes in. You can just imagine the vineyard owner’s anticipation. Every rock removed is a sign of the hope he has in the upcoming harvest. He believes that very sore muscle is going to be worth it. It takes a long time for grape vines to get established and mature enough to produce grapes. He has delayed gratification and put everything into this venture.
And it is all for nothing. The grapes are wild.
Think of God, preparing this earth, developing every tree, perfecting every river and brook, evening out the seasons, bringing night and day, setting the earth on its axis and spinning it, placing the stars in the sky, painting every sunset, providing snow melt every spring. All this will nourish us and help us thrive, and yet, here we are, wild grapes, not acting like God’s people at all—not producing what God was expecting.
And put it in the context of the Gospel, God sending prophets and teachers to help us understand what God wants for us and to help us out. And we kill those prophets. We don’t want to hear it. And God sends more people to show us a better way and we do the same with them. And God sends the Son and we don’t want anything to do with him. We kill him, too. God knows what it is like to be rejected—and mocked and spit on and tortured. We rejected him until he couldn’t be rejected anymore, because we had killed him.
Understandably, God is upset, just like we are when we get rejected. In the Gospel, the vineyard owner is really, really mad. The Kingdom of God is taken from those who reject God and kill God’s representatives. The cornerstone crushes those who don’t produce the fruit of the Kingdom.
In Paul’s letter to the people of Philippi, there is a different response. Instead, God makes us all his own. God doesn’t take the fact that we’ve rejected God and use it to reject us. Instead, God comes back to us again with compassion and understanding and adopts us again. That’s what any parent does with their kids. Parents teach their kids the best they can to make good decisions. Most children don’t do everything the way their parents taught them. That is part of becoming their own person. Parents may even feel rejected by their children. Yet parents continue to love their children and help them.
That’s the nice thing about our pets, it is very rare that they reject us. They can be so loyal. They might disobey us. They might destroy something important to us. They might get away and run around the neighborhood, but none of it is malicious. They are innocent. More often, we reject them. Every night I throw the cats out of our bedroom. I have lately been throwing the cat out of the crib. I have it covered with a sheet and yet she finds a way to climb on top of it and lay down in a warm, satisfying sleep! I put my cats out in the rain. I may not pet them for days. Yet, every morning when I get up, they trust me to feed them. As soon as I sit down at the computer in the evening, they are walking on the back of the chair or begging to get in my lap, which unfortunately for them is getting smaller and smaller. They are loyal and loving, like God.
The truth is, we have all been rejected and we’ve all done some rejecting. We’d like to think we’re not rejects—we’d like to think we’re somebody important. But we are quirky and vulnerable and weird and are afraid of being rejected.
The good news for this morning is that there is a place for rejects, with God. God, who knows what it is like to be rejected, accepts and loves all of us just as we are. That kind of acceptance, after all we’ve done against God, can help us be more compassionate toward those who have rejected us and those we once rejected.
We are the stray cat that is hanging out in God’s yard, abandoned by our friends, scruffy, hungry, pathetic. But God sees the potential there. When he tries to comfort us, we may scratch or bite. We might keep our distance. But when the food bowl is filled, we come running. Everyone, even a reject, could use a good meal and some love. So we are invited to the table from all our various corners, not to claw and scratch, but to be redeemed rejects with value and hope for a brighter future.
Discussion question for this week:
In what ways has God blessed you through your pets or through nature?
1st Reading: Isaiah 5:1-7 2nd Reading: Philippians 3:4b-14
In the past few years we’ve had a number of stray cats staying in our yard. I don’t know if this is part of the downturn in the economy that people are abandoning their pets because they can’t afford them or not spaying or neutering their animals because they can’t afford that, or just some co-incidence. Three strays have lived in our yard. I suppose they chose us because they know we’re suckers. They know cat people. They know how hard it is to say no. I hate to see an animal starving, so I’ve looked into what I can do about it. With the first cat, I called the Humane Society. At the time there was a 6 month waiting period for them to receive strays. I put a flier around the neighborhood and asked people of it was their cat. I could have taken “Stachey”—named for his mustache—to the pound, but the likelihood that a perfectly healthy, beautiful cat would be euthanized was too much to bear. And I took him to the vet to see if he had a microchip. He didn’t, but he panicked and I learned he was feral—had probably never been indoors before and too wild to sterilize. We gave him to someone who lived out in the woods and needed a barn cat, because he had killed a squirrel and several birds, but he instantly ran away and we don’t know what became of him. Now that we have two other strays in our yard, we are feeding one and our neighbor is feeding the other and I don’t really know what else to do.
Maybe it is because we know what it is like to be rejected that we latch on to these creatures who need us. Maybe we have soft hearts. Maybe we are suckers. Maybe we have compassion.
The Gospel reading for this morning says, “The stone that the builders rejected has become the cornerstone.” God knows what it is like to be rejected. In the first reading, God puts in all this hard work constructing a vineyard. The rocks are cleared. The vines are planted. The watchtower is built. The wine vat is in place. The fence goes in. You can just imagine the vineyard owner’s anticipation. Every rock removed is a sign of the hope he has in the upcoming harvest. He believes that very sore muscle is going to be worth it. It takes a long time for grape vines to get established and mature enough to produce grapes. He has delayed gratification and put everything into this venture.
And it is all for nothing. The grapes are wild.
Think of God, preparing this earth, developing every tree, perfecting every river and brook, evening out the seasons, bringing night and day, setting the earth on its axis and spinning it, placing the stars in the sky, painting every sunset, providing snow melt every spring. All this will nourish us and help us thrive, and yet, here we are, wild grapes, not acting like God’s people at all—not producing what God was expecting.
And put it in the context of the Gospel, God sending prophets and teachers to help us understand what God wants for us and to help us out. And we kill those prophets. We don’t want to hear it. And God sends more people to show us a better way and we do the same with them. And God sends the Son and we don’t want anything to do with him. We kill him, too. God knows what it is like to be rejected—and mocked and spit on and tortured. We rejected him until he couldn’t be rejected anymore, because we had killed him.
Understandably, God is upset, just like we are when we get rejected. In the Gospel, the vineyard owner is really, really mad. The Kingdom of God is taken from those who reject God and kill God’s representatives. The cornerstone crushes those who don’t produce the fruit of the Kingdom.
In Paul’s letter to the people of Philippi, there is a different response. Instead, God makes us all his own. God doesn’t take the fact that we’ve rejected God and use it to reject us. Instead, God comes back to us again with compassion and understanding and adopts us again. That’s what any parent does with their kids. Parents teach their kids the best they can to make good decisions. Most children don’t do everything the way their parents taught them. That is part of becoming their own person. Parents may even feel rejected by their children. Yet parents continue to love their children and help them.
That’s the nice thing about our pets, it is very rare that they reject us. They can be so loyal. They might disobey us. They might destroy something important to us. They might get away and run around the neighborhood, but none of it is malicious. They are innocent. More often, we reject them. Every night I throw the cats out of our bedroom. I have lately been throwing the cat out of the crib. I have it covered with a sheet and yet she finds a way to climb on top of it and lay down in a warm, satisfying sleep! I put my cats out in the rain. I may not pet them for days. Yet, every morning when I get up, they trust me to feed them. As soon as I sit down at the computer in the evening, they are walking on the back of the chair or begging to get in my lap, which unfortunately for them is getting smaller and smaller. They are loyal and loving, like God.
The truth is, we have all been rejected and we’ve all done some rejecting. We’d like to think we’re not rejects—we’d like to think we’re somebody important. But we are quirky and vulnerable and weird and are afraid of being rejected.
The good news for this morning is that there is a place for rejects, with God. God, who knows what it is like to be rejected, accepts and loves all of us just as we are. That kind of acceptance, after all we’ve done against God, can help us be more compassionate toward those who have rejected us and those we once rejected.
We are the stray cat that is hanging out in God’s yard, abandoned by our friends, scruffy, hungry, pathetic. But God sees the potential there. When he tries to comfort us, we may scratch or bite. We might keep our distance. But when the food bowl is filled, we come running. Everyone, even a reject, could use a good meal and some love. So we are invited to the table from all our various corners, not to claw and scratch, but to be redeemed rejects with value and hope for a brighter future.
Discussion question for this week:
In what ways has God blessed you through your pets or through nature?
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
Sermon for September 25
September 25, 2011 Gospel: Matthew 21:23-32 Psalm 25:1-9
1st Reading: Ezekiel 18:1-4, 25-32 2nd Reading: Philippians 2:1-13
I can really appreciate Paul’s comments in his letter to the Philippians this morning, “Just as you have always obeyed me, not just in my presence, but much more now in my absence…” It is kind of a tongue in cheek comment, since the Philippians weren’t doing very well being faithful in Paul’s absence. I couldn’t help but relate thinking of my upcoming absence and hoping for your steadiness and faithfulness while I am away. Not that I need you to obey me, but that I need you to keep on listening to God and obeying God and also keep this place running.
I can appreciate Paul’s approach. He starts with why we’re all here. “If there is any…encouragement, consolation, sharing, compassion, or sympathy in Christ…” Well, of course someone is going to pick one or more out of that list. Even if church is not going well at all, in order to keep people there, one or more out of that list has to be happening. And I would hope that as we look through that list, we’d see several that we’d found to be true at King of Kings. So let’s say we all agree that something good is coming out of our relationship with Christ and our work in this congregation, just as the people of Philippi could find at least one of those good things happening at their church. We all agree then so we can go to the “then” of the “if…then” clause.
If that’s true, then Paul asks that the members complete his joy. How could they refuse him? He had been imprisoned for his faith. He was in a terrible situation because he had brought them the good news—arrested as a criminal and held in chains and still writing to encourage them, despite all that.
I’d like to ask the same of you—make my joy complete. Do you want to make me happy? Look at me, asking for your cooperation and continued participation. Who of you would tell me, no, that you aren’t going to continue on in faithfulness while I am away, working for the Gospel and keeping this church and your fellow members strong and our ministries making a difference in the neighborhood? And it is in your interest to keep on working for the Gospel, because in many ways this is even more your church than mine.
If you want to make Paul happy, he asks you to put on the mind of Christ. Get a brain-transplant and put Christ’s brain inside your own head. Start thinking how Christ would think. And he outlines some of what that would mean. Look to other’s interests rather than your own. Be selfless. Don’t take advantage of other people. Use your privileges to help others. Empty yourselves and give up some things you’d prefer in order to help others. Trust God fully. Be willing to face death as well as all the scary places in life that make you think you’re going to die. Confess Jesus Christ and worship him. And follow through on your commitments.
This description of Paul’s is about all the things we believe about Jesus and reminds us of who he is for us. This is one of the very first creeds, like the Apostles Creed and Nicene Creed. It is a statement of what is most important in our faith and what we need to remember for when our community is arguing or our leader is absent or we just need to stay on track. And it should describe us as his followers if we really believe in him. I think of the video last week with Shane Claiborn when he says that even the demons believed in Jesus. You can believe in Jesus and his power and not follow his ways. To be a Christian is more than believing. It is following.
So what can an imperfect people do with this overwhelming job description of Jesus’ that Paul is reminding them of while Paul is away? First, let’s remember this is a job description for the whole community. It isn’t for individuals. We can all do our part in fulfilling and following Jesus together. It doesn’t just rest on one person. Second, this job description sets us up to fail. We aren’t going to be able to do it. We are sinners. We aren’t Jesus. If we were, we wouldn’t need Jesus. It brings us to the very humility that it asks of us. We die a kind of death to the notion that we could do it. Instead, when we read all this, we realize we can’t do it, and we turn to Jesus who can and did. And we experience that forgiveness. We forgive ourselves. We forgive each other. We are raised with him in a way to new life. So we move forward in that state of forgiveness to try to live a new way that comes close to this job description, but also gives us that feeling of freedom instead of failure.
Soon I will be leaving you temporarily. I have a list of things I’d like you to do, that I have been preparing you for. I have to say you have showed a level of commitment that impresses me, following through on visitation and using what you learned in the Children’s Message refresher course. You aren’t just saying what I want to hear like the first son in the vineyard. You have more than just good intentions. Most of you have been here a lot longer than I have and have the experience of taking up the slack when there has been an interim or in the time when your new pastors have been getting to know you.
When I say, “Make my joy complete,” I have on that list that you would keep coming to church. It isn’t that church is going to get you to heaven or make everything right in the universe. I’d like you to keep coming because at church we get reminders of why we are people of faith. We see that good that can be done for others. We remember what is most important to us. We also get strength and encouragement, being here. The ancient stories combined with the current ones of good friends, help us keep moving forward on our journey of faith and keep us going when we feel discouraged. There is accountability here at church. We aren’t just living for ourselves, but as part of a community and we get to check in about how we’re carrying the good news to the neighborhood through donations or smiles or volunteering or in our work.
When I go into labor, after I’ve made that call to the Church Council President or Nick does, I’m pretty sure my mind will be elsewhere. I am preparing myself to place you and this congregation entirely in God’s hands. And although I will be praying for you and thinking of you now and then in the weeks while I am away, I will treasure that time to concentrate on my new family and my new role and getting some sleep and having patience. I will not be fretting about you, because I know only you can decide whether to follow through and knowing you that you will for the most part and when you can’t you will forgive yourself and others will forgive you and you’ll all move forward anyway.
I’m sure you’ll want to be here, to experience the different preachers we’ll have, to experience worship in a different way. Heck, I’m sorry to miss some of what you’re going to hear and see. You’ll want to get in on the work that will still be going on because it is God’s work, and God working through you, rather than being my work as your pastor. I also encourage you to be here, regardless of whether you feel like it or not, because that’s part of putting others before yourself and emptying yourself in that job description. You have a community that needs you here. Even if you think you’d rather have the sleep, there may be someone here that only you know the right words to say to, or only your hand squeeze could console them, or only your smile could make their day. So come for each other and support each other and make God’s joy complete.
1st Reading: Ezekiel 18:1-4, 25-32 2nd Reading: Philippians 2:1-13
I can really appreciate Paul’s comments in his letter to the Philippians this morning, “Just as you have always obeyed me, not just in my presence, but much more now in my absence…” It is kind of a tongue in cheek comment, since the Philippians weren’t doing very well being faithful in Paul’s absence. I couldn’t help but relate thinking of my upcoming absence and hoping for your steadiness and faithfulness while I am away. Not that I need you to obey me, but that I need you to keep on listening to God and obeying God and also keep this place running.
I can appreciate Paul’s approach. He starts with why we’re all here. “If there is any…encouragement, consolation, sharing, compassion, or sympathy in Christ…” Well, of course someone is going to pick one or more out of that list. Even if church is not going well at all, in order to keep people there, one or more out of that list has to be happening. And I would hope that as we look through that list, we’d see several that we’d found to be true at King of Kings. So let’s say we all agree that something good is coming out of our relationship with Christ and our work in this congregation, just as the people of Philippi could find at least one of those good things happening at their church. We all agree then so we can go to the “then” of the “if…then” clause.
If that’s true, then Paul asks that the members complete his joy. How could they refuse him? He had been imprisoned for his faith. He was in a terrible situation because he had brought them the good news—arrested as a criminal and held in chains and still writing to encourage them, despite all that.
I’d like to ask the same of you—make my joy complete. Do you want to make me happy? Look at me, asking for your cooperation and continued participation. Who of you would tell me, no, that you aren’t going to continue on in faithfulness while I am away, working for the Gospel and keeping this church and your fellow members strong and our ministries making a difference in the neighborhood? And it is in your interest to keep on working for the Gospel, because in many ways this is even more your church than mine.
If you want to make Paul happy, he asks you to put on the mind of Christ. Get a brain-transplant and put Christ’s brain inside your own head. Start thinking how Christ would think. And he outlines some of what that would mean. Look to other’s interests rather than your own. Be selfless. Don’t take advantage of other people. Use your privileges to help others. Empty yourselves and give up some things you’d prefer in order to help others. Trust God fully. Be willing to face death as well as all the scary places in life that make you think you’re going to die. Confess Jesus Christ and worship him. And follow through on your commitments.
This description of Paul’s is about all the things we believe about Jesus and reminds us of who he is for us. This is one of the very first creeds, like the Apostles Creed and Nicene Creed. It is a statement of what is most important in our faith and what we need to remember for when our community is arguing or our leader is absent or we just need to stay on track. And it should describe us as his followers if we really believe in him. I think of the video last week with Shane Claiborn when he says that even the demons believed in Jesus. You can believe in Jesus and his power and not follow his ways. To be a Christian is more than believing. It is following.
So what can an imperfect people do with this overwhelming job description of Jesus’ that Paul is reminding them of while Paul is away? First, let’s remember this is a job description for the whole community. It isn’t for individuals. We can all do our part in fulfilling and following Jesus together. It doesn’t just rest on one person. Second, this job description sets us up to fail. We aren’t going to be able to do it. We are sinners. We aren’t Jesus. If we were, we wouldn’t need Jesus. It brings us to the very humility that it asks of us. We die a kind of death to the notion that we could do it. Instead, when we read all this, we realize we can’t do it, and we turn to Jesus who can and did. And we experience that forgiveness. We forgive ourselves. We forgive each other. We are raised with him in a way to new life. So we move forward in that state of forgiveness to try to live a new way that comes close to this job description, but also gives us that feeling of freedom instead of failure.
Soon I will be leaving you temporarily. I have a list of things I’d like you to do, that I have been preparing you for. I have to say you have showed a level of commitment that impresses me, following through on visitation and using what you learned in the Children’s Message refresher course. You aren’t just saying what I want to hear like the first son in the vineyard. You have more than just good intentions. Most of you have been here a lot longer than I have and have the experience of taking up the slack when there has been an interim or in the time when your new pastors have been getting to know you.
When I say, “Make my joy complete,” I have on that list that you would keep coming to church. It isn’t that church is going to get you to heaven or make everything right in the universe. I’d like you to keep coming because at church we get reminders of why we are people of faith. We see that good that can be done for others. We remember what is most important to us. We also get strength and encouragement, being here. The ancient stories combined with the current ones of good friends, help us keep moving forward on our journey of faith and keep us going when we feel discouraged. There is accountability here at church. We aren’t just living for ourselves, but as part of a community and we get to check in about how we’re carrying the good news to the neighborhood through donations or smiles or volunteering or in our work.
When I go into labor, after I’ve made that call to the Church Council President or Nick does, I’m pretty sure my mind will be elsewhere. I am preparing myself to place you and this congregation entirely in God’s hands. And although I will be praying for you and thinking of you now and then in the weeks while I am away, I will treasure that time to concentrate on my new family and my new role and getting some sleep and having patience. I will not be fretting about you, because I know only you can decide whether to follow through and knowing you that you will for the most part and when you can’t you will forgive yourself and others will forgive you and you’ll all move forward anyway.
I’m sure you’ll want to be here, to experience the different preachers we’ll have, to experience worship in a different way. Heck, I’m sorry to miss some of what you’re going to hear and see. You’ll want to get in on the work that will still be going on because it is God’s work, and God working through you, rather than being my work as your pastor. I also encourage you to be here, regardless of whether you feel like it or not, because that’s part of putting others before yourself and emptying yourself in that job description. You have a community that needs you here. Even if you think you’d rather have the sleep, there may be someone here that only you know the right words to say to, or only your hand squeeze could console them, or only your smile could make their day. So come for each other and support each other and make God’s joy complete.
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
Sermon for September 18, 2011
September 18, 2011 Gospel: Matthew 20:1-16 Psalm 145:1-8
1st Reading: Jonah 3:10-4:11 2nd Reading: Philippians 1:21-30
I’ve got good news and I’ve got bad news, and that is that God is generous. It depends on your perspective, right? I want you to put yourself in the story. Can I have a show of hands: How many of you would consider yourselves to be the workers coming to work at 5 o’clock? How many of you would put yourselves in the category of bearing the burden of the day and the scorching heat? How about somewhere in between? Wouldn’t want to be too toot your own horn to much, but don’t mind taking a little credit!
I am a lifelong Lutheran. I’ve pretty much always gone to church. Sometimes I take communion twice in a day—if I visit a homebound person. I volunteer my time for the poor. I visit the sick. I try to follow the Ten Commandments. I try to grow my faith, read the Bible, and pray. I’m a pastor! I’ve dedicated my life to God and the church and God’s people. Certainly I have born the burden of the day!
Then I look out at all of you. Some of you have been at this twice as long as I have! Some of you have been through trials I can barely imagine and come through with a strong faith. Some of you have faced illness, faced cancer, lost a spouse, lost children. Yet here you are. Some of you have served on councils and building projects, slept outdoors in solidarity with the homeless, given away your coat or shoes to someone who needed it. Certainly you have born the burden of the day. My day’s just getting started. Maybe I’ve come in in the middle.
And then I look to Jesus Christ. He’s the only we can truly say bore the burden of the day and kept on working. He threw himself into his work, was completely obedient to God, ignored what other people thought of him and always did what was right in relationship to others—especially the poor. He didn’t think of himself and what was due him as God’s son, as one being there from the creation of the universe, who gave up his throne to walk in dirt and pain and human experience.
And Jesus came to make us all equal with each other and with him. We don’t like to be equal with each other. I don’t mind being equal with those that are better—I don’t mind being lumped in with all of you. But to be put together with the really late-comers seems insulting. We can think of reasons they weren’t there to be hired. Maybe they were sleeping late. Maybe they were hung-over. Maybe they didn’t have it together. They were probably lazy. Why would I want to be lumped in with them?
But if I am to be lumped in with Jesus—which I do not deserve, then inevitably I’ll be lumped in with all of you and all of the late-comers too. It just doesn’t seem fair, and it isn’t fair. But aren’t we glad that God isn’t fair and gives to us generously? We’re glad when God is generous to us but we get grumpy when God is generous to others.
Jonah is so angry in our Old Testament story. Let me tell you, you’re supposed to laugh at this story. It is funny! Jonah is mad that God is so generous to the people of Ninevah because it makes him feel foolish. He told the people God was going to punish them and then God doesn’t do it. It makes Jonah look like a liar. It makes him look stupid that what he said would happen didn’t and that God is gracious “and merciful, slow to anger, abounding in steadfast love and ready to relent from punishing.” So Jonah has himself a little pity party—a pout fest. He’d rather die than see the people Ninevah repent and God be kind to them.
In the Gospel, those who worked a full day are angry at God’s generosity to those who only worked an hour. They are mostly mad because even though they had agreed to a certain wage, they thought they would get more. They thought they were entitled to more. They thought they deserved more. They feel stupid for working the whole day when they could have worked an hour for the same pay.
The landowner here is giving those who worked an hour as well as those who worked all day a living wage. It is what they’d need to live on, no more, no less. If a person doesn’t have the minimum, they won’t go on living for long and won’t be there to work another day. Having more than the minimum can also be problematic, especially when you start to think it makes you better than other people. God gives us exactly what we need.
If we are all equal in God’s eyes, then why shouldn’t we just be lazy and let others do all the work? Why don’t we sit back and take advantage of all this grace that God so naively gives?
When I think of those who come to the pantry, I would say that almost everyone would rather work than to have to ask for food and help. And all of you in retirement—you’d keep getting your retirement income whether you sat in front of the TV all day or went out and volunteered your time somewhere. Yet you choose to give your time to help other people, your family, your neighbors, and your church. And for those of you who have been housewives most of your life—this counts as work and on top of that, it is without pay. I think most of us would agree that there is so much value that people get out of work besides wages.
Work can make life more interesting. It teaches us about ourselves. It keeps us learning new skills, interpersonal skills and maybe physical or intellectual skills. It gives us purpose and meaning and satisfaction. It gives us goals to work toward and progress to measure, and a way to participate in society and contribute.
And, yes, work brings us suffering. Other people can be a pain in the neck. Our job can get tedious. We will be frustrated at times. We’ll get overwhelmed. We won’t live up to our own expectations and we’ll be disappointed or we won’t to live up to those of someone else. Paul says, “Not only has God graciously granted you the privilege of believing in Christ, but of suffering for him as well.” Oh goodie! We get to suffer for Christ!
The sign at Oak Hills this morning says something about the privilege of suffering. They must still be on the lectionary. I tricked you in here with “Welcome Back!” But really suffering IS what we’re talking about this morning, too! Gotcha!
Suffering, for Paul, is a privilege. A lot of times we measure our faith by how smoothly our life is going. If things are going well, we can assume we are being faithful enough and doing everything right, that God is with us and we can just stay the course. Just like the vineyard workers were measuring the value of their work by how much they got paid. But Paul is pointing out that suffering is one way to measure whether we are making progress in the faith. The more we’re suffering, the greater our faith progress. Bearing the burden of the day is a privilege that teaches us something about ourselves and has value in and of itself.
When my life is cushy, I think a lot less about my faith life and taking the next step. Why should I, if everything is going well? It is when I am suffering or struggling, that I remember most how much I need God and my friends and my church and to read the Bible. And when I am struggling, that’s when I am really grappling with my faith and what God means to me. It means I am growing in faith, that I am learning something new about myself. And when I struggle, it reminds me of all the struggling people in the world who have it worse than I do, and reminds me to lend a hand and to give of myself to relieve suffering in the world. We can measure our progress in faith by how much we are struggling.
I’m not going to go so far as wish suffering on you this week. Life brings suffering all on its own. But I hope we learn and grow from our struggles and become closer to God and one another.
1st Reading: Jonah 3:10-4:11 2nd Reading: Philippians 1:21-30
I’ve got good news and I’ve got bad news, and that is that God is generous. It depends on your perspective, right? I want you to put yourself in the story. Can I have a show of hands: How many of you would consider yourselves to be the workers coming to work at 5 o’clock? How many of you would put yourselves in the category of bearing the burden of the day and the scorching heat? How about somewhere in between? Wouldn’t want to be too toot your own horn to much, but don’t mind taking a little credit!
I am a lifelong Lutheran. I’ve pretty much always gone to church. Sometimes I take communion twice in a day—if I visit a homebound person. I volunteer my time for the poor. I visit the sick. I try to follow the Ten Commandments. I try to grow my faith, read the Bible, and pray. I’m a pastor! I’ve dedicated my life to God and the church and God’s people. Certainly I have born the burden of the day!
Then I look out at all of you. Some of you have been at this twice as long as I have! Some of you have been through trials I can barely imagine and come through with a strong faith. Some of you have faced illness, faced cancer, lost a spouse, lost children. Yet here you are. Some of you have served on councils and building projects, slept outdoors in solidarity with the homeless, given away your coat or shoes to someone who needed it. Certainly you have born the burden of the day. My day’s just getting started. Maybe I’ve come in in the middle.
And then I look to Jesus Christ. He’s the only we can truly say bore the burden of the day and kept on working. He threw himself into his work, was completely obedient to God, ignored what other people thought of him and always did what was right in relationship to others—especially the poor. He didn’t think of himself and what was due him as God’s son, as one being there from the creation of the universe, who gave up his throne to walk in dirt and pain and human experience.
And Jesus came to make us all equal with each other and with him. We don’t like to be equal with each other. I don’t mind being equal with those that are better—I don’t mind being lumped in with all of you. But to be put together with the really late-comers seems insulting. We can think of reasons they weren’t there to be hired. Maybe they were sleeping late. Maybe they were hung-over. Maybe they didn’t have it together. They were probably lazy. Why would I want to be lumped in with them?
But if I am to be lumped in with Jesus—which I do not deserve, then inevitably I’ll be lumped in with all of you and all of the late-comers too. It just doesn’t seem fair, and it isn’t fair. But aren’t we glad that God isn’t fair and gives to us generously? We’re glad when God is generous to us but we get grumpy when God is generous to others.
Jonah is so angry in our Old Testament story. Let me tell you, you’re supposed to laugh at this story. It is funny! Jonah is mad that God is so generous to the people of Ninevah because it makes him feel foolish. He told the people God was going to punish them and then God doesn’t do it. It makes Jonah look like a liar. It makes him look stupid that what he said would happen didn’t and that God is gracious “and merciful, slow to anger, abounding in steadfast love and ready to relent from punishing.” So Jonah has himself a little pity party—a pout fest. He’d rather die than see the people Ninevah repent and God be kind to them.
In the Gospel, those who worked a full day are angry at God’s generosity to those who only worked an hour. They are mostly mad because even though they had agreed to a certain wage, they thought they would get more. They thought they were entitled to more. They thought they deserved more. They feel stupid for working the whole day when they could have worked an hour for the same pay.
The landowner here is giving those who worked an hour as well as those who worked all day a living wage. It is what they’d need to live on, no more, no less. If a person doesn’t have the minimum, they won’t go on living for long and won’t be there to work another day. Having more than the minimum can also be problematic, especially when you start to think it makes you better than other people. God gives us exactly what we need.
If we are all equal in God’s eyes, then why shouldn’t we just be lazy and let others do all the work? Why don’t we sit back and take advantage of all this grace that God so naively gives?
When I think of those who come to the pantry, I would say that almost everyone would rather work than to have to ask for food and help. And all of you in retirement—you’d keep getting your retirement income whether you sat in front of the TV all day or went out and volunteered your time somewhere. Yet you choose to give your time to help other people, your family, your neighbors, and your church. And for those of you who have been housewives most of your life—this counts as work and on top of that, it is without pay. I think most of us would agree that there is so much value that people get out of work besides wages.
Work can make life more interesting. It teaches us about ourselves. It keeps us learning new skills, interpersonal skills and maybe physical or intellectual skills. It gives us purpose and meaning and satisfaction. It gives us goals to work toward and progress to measure, and a way to participate in society and contribute.
And, yes, work brings us suffering. Other people can be a pain in the neck. Our job can get tedious. We will be frustrated at times. We’ll get overwhelmed. We won’t live up to our own expectations and we’ll be disappointed or we won’t to live up to those of someone else. Paul says, “Not only has God graciously granted you the privilege of believing in Christ, but of suffering for him as well.” Oh goodie! We get to suffer for Christ!
The sign at Oak Hills this morning says something about the privilege of suffering. They must still be on the lectionary. I tricked you in here with “Welcome Back!” But really suffering IS what we’re talking about this morning, too! Gotcha!
Suffering, for Paul, is a privilege. A lot of times we measure our faith by how smoothly our life is going. If things are going well, we can assume we are being faithful enough and doing everything right, that God is with us and we can just stay the course. Just like the vineyard workers were measuring the value of their work by how much they got paid. But Paul is pointing out that suffering is one way to measure whether we are making progress in the faith. The more we’re suffering, the greater our faith progress. Bearing the burden of the day is a privilege that teaches us something about ourselves and has value in and of itself.
When my life is cushy, I think a lot less about my faith life and taking the next step. Why should I, if everything is going well? It is when I am suffering or struggling, that I remember most how much I need God and my friends and my church and to read the Bible. And when I am struggling, that’s when I am really grappling with my faith and what God means to me. It means I am growing in faith, that I am learning something new about myself. And when I struggle, it reminds me of all the struggling people in the world who have it worse than I do, and reminds me to lend a hand and to give of myself to relieve suffering in the world. We can measure our progress in faith by how much we are struggling.
I’m not going to go so far as wish suffering on you this week. Life brings suffering all on its own. But I hope we learn and grow from our struggles and become closer to God and one another.
Sunday, September 11, 2011
Sermon on the 10-year Anniversary of the 9-11 Attacks
September 11, 2011 Gospel: Matthew 18:21-35 Psalm 103:1-13
1st Reading: Genesis 50:15-21 2nd Reading: Romans 14:1-12
We come to this house of worship because we are incomplete. There is something necessary in our lives to help make us whole. We need each other. We need God. We need to mend our relationships. We need to learn from our mistakes and find a better way to live. We come here because, as it says in the letter to the Romans this morning, “We do not live to ourselves.” Sometimes we realize this when we make a mistake or have an argument with someone. Sometimes we realize it when we get sick or can’t do all the things we’ve done before on our own. And sometimes we realize it during a time of national disaster and mourning, such as on September 11, 2001.
That day affected us all in a different way, yet that day did affect us all. We were going about our usual business, self-sufficient in our own little worlds, living for ourselves, satisfying our own desires, oblivious to others in a lot of ways—to our neighbors down the street, and to our neighbors around the world and how we might be impacting them.
Suddenly there was no business as usual anymore. Our world changed that day. We realized there was some broken relationship that we weren’t aware of. Someone wanted to hurt us and we didn’t know why. We were suddenly alert to the person driving next to us, tears running down their faces, the crowd glued to the television screen in the hospital lobby, the person desperately trying to get through on the phone to New York. We were seeing the panic, the sadness, the anger in each other’s eyes. We were suddenly aware of each other and that we couldn’t and didn’t live unto ourselves, like we thought.
Joseph’s brothers thought they lived unto themselves. They didn’t think they’d ever see Joseph again after selling him into slavery and lying to their dad he’d been eaten by wild animals. They just wanted him out of the picture out of jealousy. They did whatever they want. Then the famine hit and they realized they don’t live unto themselves. They need others to get by in life. They needed the grain that Egypt could provide. And they realized even more that they don’t live unto themselves when they went to ask for help and who shows up to talk to them but their own brother they sold down the river years before. They actually needed him, the one they had sought to destroy. They suddenly realized that all things are interconnected. None of us is an island.
The servant of the king in this morning’s parable was living life unto himself. How else do you accumulate billions of dollars worth of debt? Suddenly the King comes to collect and the servant realizes that he needs the king’s mercy. He is responsible to someone else. So he begs for that mercy from the king, who forgives the debt and forgives him and releases him. He sees his interconnectedness with those who can do something for him, and is willing to accept their help and their relationship, yet he is willing to destroy the life of someone more vulnerable than he is, rather than show that same mercy and connectedness with another.
I did not pick the readings for this Sunday, but if I were going to pick them, I don’t know if I would be so bold as to pick these. To advocate forgiveness and mercy on September 11 is asking a lot. But I am not asking that. These texts were picked many years before September 11, 2001 came about and will be texts that are used on this particular Sunday every third year for many more to come. So you could say that the Holy Spirit had something to do with it.
God is the one telling us to forgive. Was God ever so wronged as we were on 9/11 that God could give us such a mandate? Did we ever owe God so great a debt as a billion dollars?
The truth is, we act as if we are entitled to everything God has let us borrow. We take it for granted that God will continue to lend it to us when we abuse it and damage it and hurt other people around us. We put ourselves in the place of God, saying we earned this or that privilege we have, acting as if we made it all by ourselves, and denying our relationship with God and each other. How often do we say, “My house,” “my car,” “my church,” “my yard,” “my children?” And we do think of them as our own, but they are really gifts from God that we get to borrow for a little while and care for.
Of course God is the one who should get the credit for every good thing we have—for every bite we eat, for the roof over our heads, for our family and friends and health and pets and clean water to drink and all our blessings. God didn’t have to give us all this. God certainly has reason to deny connection and relationship with us—we’ve screwed it up millions of times. We’ve turned our backs on God and God’s friends. We’ve wasted what God has given us and ruined it. We’ve taken it for granted and taken credit for us. And when God came to be among us and try out our life, we nailed God to the cross and killed him. So yes, God has been as wronged as we have and more and yes we owe God more than a billion dollars. And God has forgiven us all of it. Every last cent is erased from the record. It is an amazing sense of relief to know that it won’t be held against us. We’ve still got that relationship. We can still go to God and sit on God’s lap and receive that love and comfort and help God’s always given us.
So we have the choice of how to respond. I always say this about a time of grieving for a family and maybe it is the same for a congregation or a country, “It can bring out the best in people, or it can bring out the worst.” We have a choice to respond with anger and vengeance and retaliation. We can decide it happened because “They hate our freedom.” We can kill and destroy and try to make this world better through those means.
But God says that never works. When people came to kill his Son, Jesus, one of the disciples cut off the ear of one of the guards in the garden of Gethsemane. But Jesus stopped him. Jesus went without resistance. When we nailed him to the cross and left him to die and mocked him, he did not return violence for violence.
God teaches us the way of forgiveness, reconciliation, relationship. Forgiveness is a sticky subject. It doesn’t mean forgetting what happened. Instead it means remembering so that we can learn from it. It doesn’t mean simply pronouncing forgiveness without examining the situation. Jesus says, “Forgive your brother or sister from your heart.” That doesn’t just happen overnight.
Forgiveness is a process of learning from the other person, understanding what brought them to that point. It means claiming your own part in the situation—taking responsibility for the brokenness that occurred and for the healing that can occur with God’s help. It means moving forward in a different way than before, learning from this terrible tragedy what to do differently in the future.
Many of the results from September 11, 2001 have been anger and retaliation. Not only has our country become involved in several wars in which many innocent people have died and one could argue that the economy suffered greatly as a result of these wars, a mosque in our own state was bombed, Arab Americans have been singled out and threatened, kept from flying, and held without charges. We continue as a country and individuals to meet violence with violence.
I often wonder, what can I really do about it? I feel helpless at the same time that I feel responsible. Sometimes I wonder if it is up to me to do the forgiving or leave that up to others who lost loved ones or suffer from respiratory illnesses from the cleanup. In some ways, we aren’t capable of such forgiveness as Jesus commands. When we realize this is another way we fall short, may that turn us back to God to do the forgiving for us and soften our hearts toward one another.
Whether we can forgive all or part or none of these wrongs, there are ways we can become better informed about why these attacks happened. We can read about other perspectives. We can pay attention to news that is more than just sound bites of what we like to hear, but digs deeper to hear people’s stories. We can try to understand. We can sit down with an Arab American or invite a Muslim person to come to talk to our adult forum class as we have in the past. We can examine our purchases or our stock portfolios to see if we are supporting companies that support the war. And we can take actions of nonviolence in all areas of our lives, toward the earth and in our advocacy work and as we volunteer to empower people to have options other than violence.
This kind of tragedy can also bring out the best in us and in some ways it has done that, as well. On that day we found ways to reach out to those around us. Strangers who hadn’t been to church in ages, or maybe even ever, gathered in houses of worship to pray together. Many of us contacted our loved ones that day and told them how much we loved them. Maybe we don’t take so much for granted anymore—all the gifts we have from God, how much we owe God and those around us for their love and support. And if we can begin to see our neighbors around the world as family, too, and be in relationship with those we see as so different from us, we won’t be living unto ourselves but for each other, as God hopes we would do.
Although God did not cause the events of September 11, God can make something good out of it and build a world where we all understand our relationship to God and one another and are generous and loving toward all our brothers and sisters around the world.
1st Reading: Genesis 50:15-21 2nd Reading: Romans 14:1-12
We come to this house of worship because we are incomplete. There is something necessary in our lives to help make us whole. We need each other. We need God. We need to mend our relationships. We need to learn from our mistakes and find a better way to live. We come here because, as it says in the letter to the Romans this morning, “We do not live to ourselves.” Sometimes we realize this when we make a mistake or have an argument with someone. Sometimes we realize it when we get sick or can’t do all the things we’ve done before on our own. And sometimes we realize it during a time of national disaster and mourning, such as on September 11, 2001.
That day affected us all in a different way, yet that day did affect us all. We were going about our usual business, self-sufficient in our own little worlds, living for ourselves, satisfying our own desires, oblivious to others in a lot of ways—to our neighbors down the street, and to our neighbors around the world and how we might be impacting them.
Suddenly there was no business as usual anymore. Our world changed that day. We realized there was some broken relationship that we weren’t aware of. Someone wanted to hurt us and we didn’t know why. We were suddenly alert to the person driving next to us, tears running down their faces, the crowd glued to the television screen in the hospital lobby, the person desperately trying to get through on the phone to New York. We were seeing the panic, the sadness, the anger in each other’s eyes. We were suddenly aware of each other and that we couldn’t and didn’t live unto ourselves, like we thought.
Joseph’s brothers thought they lived unto themselves. They didn’t think they’d ever see Joseph again after selling him into slavery and lying to their dad he’d been eaten by wild animals. They just wanted him out of the picture out of jealousy. They did whatever they want. Then the famine hit and they realized they don’t live unto themselves. They need others to get by in life. They needed the grain that Egypt could provide. And they realized even more that they don’t live unto themselves when they went to ask for help and who shows up to talk to them but their own brother they sold down the river years before. They actually needed him, the one they had sought to destroy. They suddenly realized that all things are interconnected. None of us is an island.
The servant of the king in this morning’s parable was living life unto himself. How else do you accumulate billions of dollars worth of debt? Suddenly the King comes to collect and the servant realizes that he needs the king’s mercy. He is responsible to someone else. So he begs for that mercy from the king, who forgives the debt and forgives him and releases him. He sees his interconnectedness with those who can do something for him, and is willing to accept their help and their relationship, yet he is willing to destroy the life of someone more vulnerable than he is, rather than show that same mercy and connectedness with another.
I did not pick the readings for this Sunday, but if I were going to pick them, I don’t know if I would be so bold as to pick these. To advocate forgiveness and mercy on September 11 is asking a lot. But I am not asking that. These texts were picked many years before September 11, 2001 came about and will be texts that are used on this particular Sunday every third year for many more to come. So you could say that the Holy Spirit had something to do with it.
God is the one telling us to forgive. Was God ever so wronged as we were on 9/11 that God could give us such a mandate? Did we ever owe God so great a debt as a billion dollars?
The truth is, we act as if we are entitled to everything God has let us borrow. We take it for granted that God will continue to lend it to us when we abuse it and damage it and hurt other people around us. We put ourselves in the place of God, saying we earned this or that privilege we have, acting as if we made it all by ourselves, and denying our relationship with God and each other. How often do we say, “My house,” “my car,” “my church,” “my yard,” “my children?” And we do think of them as our own, but they are really gifts from God that we get to borrow for a little while and care for.
Of course God is the one who should get the credit for every good thing we have—for every bite we eat, for the roof over our heads, for our family and friends and health and pets and clean water to drink and all our blessings. God didn’t have to give us all this. God certainly has reason to deny connection and relationship with us—we’ve screwed it up millions of times. We’ve turned our backs on God and God’s friends. We’ve wasted what God has given us and ruined it. We’ve taken it for granted and taken credit for us. And when God came to be among us and try out our life, we nailed God to the cross and killed him. So yes, God has been as wronged as we have and more and yes we owe God more than a billion dollars. And God has forgiven us all of it. Every last cent is erased from the record. It is an amazing sense of relief to know that it won’t be held against us. We’ve still got that relationship. We can still go to God and sit on God’s lap and receive that love and comfort and help God’s always given us.
So we have the choice of how to respond. I always say this about a time of grieving for a family and maybe it is the same for a congregation or a country, “It can bring out the best in people, or it can bring out the worst.” We have a choice to respond with anger and vengeance and retaliation. We can decide it happened because “They hate our freedom.” We can kill and destroy and try to make this world better through those means.
But God says that never works. When people came to kill his Son, Jesus, one of the disciples cut off the ear of one of the guards in the garden of Gethsemane. But Jesus stopped him. Jesus went without resistance. When we nailed him to the cross and left him to die and mocked him, he did not return violence for violence.
God teaches us the way of forgiveness, reconciliation, relationship. Forgiveness is a sticky subject. It doesn’t mean forgetting what happened. Instead it means remembering so that we can learn from it. It doesn’t mean simply pronouncing forgiveness without examining the situation. Jesus says, “Forgive your brother or sister from your heart.” That doesn’t just happen overnight.
Forgiveness is a process of learning from the other person, understanding what brought them to that point. It means claiming your own part in the situation—taking responsibility for the brokenness that occurred and for the healing that can occur with God’s help. It means moving forward in a different way than before, learning from this terrible tragedy what to do differently in the future.
Many of the results from September 11, 2001 have been anger and retaliation. Not only has our country become involved in several wars in which many innocent people have died and one could argue that the economy suffered greatly as a result of these wars, a mosque in our own state was bombed, Arab Americans have been singled out and threatened, kept from flying, and held without charges. We continue as a country and individuals to meet violence with violence.
I often wonder, what can I really do about it? I feel helpless at the same time that I feel responsible. Sometimes I wonder if it is up to me to do the forgiving or leave that up to others who lost loved ones or suffer from respiratory illnesses from the cleanup. In some ways, we aren’t capable of such forgiveness as Jesus commands. When we realize this is another way we fall short, may that turn us back to God to do the forgiving for us and soften our hearts toward one another.
Whether we can forgive all or part or none of these wrongs, there are ways we can become better informed about why these attacks happened. We can read about other perspectives. We can pay attention to news that is more than just sound bites of what we like to hear, but digs deeper to hear people’s stories. We can try to understand. We can sit down with an Arab American or invite a Muslim person to come to talk to our adult forum class as we have in the past. We can examine our purchases or our stock portfolios to see if we are supporting companies that support the war. And we can take actions of nonviolence in all areas of our lives, toward the earth and in our advocacy work and as we volunteer to empower people to have options other than violence.
This kind of tragedy can also bring out the best in us and in some ways it has done that, as well. On that day we found ways to reach out to those around us. Strangers who hadn’t been to church in ages, or maybe even ever, gathered in houses of worship to pray together. Many of us contacted our loved ones that day and told them how much we loved them. Maybe we don’t take so much for granted anymore—all the gifts we have from God, how much we owe God and those around us for their love and support. And if we can begin to see our neighbors around the world as family, too, and be in relationship with those we see as so different from us, we won’t be living unto ourselves but for each other, as God hopes we would do.
Although God did not cause the events of September 11, God can make something good out of it and build a world where we all understand our relationship to God and one another and are generous and loving toward all our brothers and sisters around the world.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)