Weekly Lessons and Sermon
May the words of my mouth and the meditations of my heart be always
acceptable in your sight, oh Lord our strength and our redeemer. Amen.
acceptable in your sight, oh Lord our strength and our redeemer. Amen.
“Teacher, which commandment in the law is the greatest?”
The question comes to Jesus during Holy week. Right before his arrest and crucifixion. It’s the last of the interrogations by the religious authorities in Matthew’s Gospel. And it’s certainly a big one. Perhaps THE biggest one. Because here: Jesus gives us the overarching principle that will guide our lives. Jesus’ response was both typical and not. He begins his response in a rather predictable way: “‘You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind.’ This is the greatest and first commandment.” Here: Jesus is quoting Deuteronomy 6. But that’s not all: because Jesus adds a bit more. The Pharisees ask Jesus for the greatest commandment. He gives it. But then he gives the second greatest: Which is not really a separate commandment: But perhaps an explanation of how we can fully live into the first. To love your neighbor as yourself. This is a paraphrase of Leviticus 19 which says: “You shall not take vengeance or bear a grudge against any of your people, but you shall love your neighbor as yourself: I am the Lord.” Jesus then tells the Pharisees that all the “law and the prophets” The two major bodies of text that make up the Hebrew Scriptures: Are dependent upon these two commandments. The Pharisees would have known all this: not just the paraphrased portion that Jesus quoted: But they would have known the entire passage by heart. Now, we’ve talked millions of times about how our lives are meant to be lived out in community. That life is difficult. Even the Christian life is difficult: And we need each other to live it. And we also know that Living in community is hard work. Disagreements are bound to happen, Other people will annoy you and you will annoy other people. Our tendency: when we have disagreements: is to “cut and run” To leave the community or relationship and find another one. Funny enough: when we leave without resolving our issues, When we go somewhere else: We invariably find the same problems, the same disagreements, with others in the new community. When we leave out of anger: Out of unresolved issues: History often repeats itself: Behavior replicates itself and there is no reconciliation or opportunity for spiritual growth. We can act pious and holy all we want, but unless we do the hard work of forgiveness and reconciliation: Our faith is kind of a sham. Nobody said it would be easy. It’s easy to say we love our neighbors in the abstract – But it’s much harder to put it into practice. In fact, Jesus’ command to love our enemies sometimes seems easier. We tend to push enemies away and keep them out of our lives. It’s easy to love in the abstract, at arm’s length. But maybe that’s not love at all. Because Love, is about relationships. It’s hard to love up close when things get messy: loving our next-door neighbor, whose dog barks incessantly and who won’t do anything about it; or members of our congregation who don’t see things our way or just bug us; or community leaders who don’t listen to our concerns; or the priest who just doesn’t get it. In each case, what makes it hard is the pride of our own egos: The pride that seeks the self rather than the good of the other. But letting go of the ego is the way of the cross: The way of Christ. As Christians: we uphold living in community-- Which means loving God and neighbor-- And by extension letting go of the need for fighting, vengeance and grudges. It is a way of spiritual transformation that calls us into becoming more Christ- like— and Into becoming spiritual adults. Sister Joan Chittister, an author and nun writes: “Adulthood is not a matter of becoming completely independent of the people who lay claim to our lives. Adulthood is a matter of being completely open to the insights that come to us from our superiors and our spouses, our children and our friends, so that we can become more than we can even begin to imagine for ourselves.” This is the transforming power of God – and it comes to us through our neighbors who are up close and in our face. It comes to us by being in real relationship with one another. Life in community is hard work. And Jesus’ two commandments show us that we cannot love God and harbor hatred for the people that God loves. Loving God with all our heart, soul, mind, and strength, only comes with humility: The humility to love the very people that God loves too. Even those who seem to us to be unlovable. Because, after all: none of us are fully loveable ALL the time. And this is where we see the Grace of God. The TRANSFORMING Grace of God. When we are at our worst and most unloveable, God still comes to us. That radical, unmerited love has the power to move our hearts to love our neighbors: Even the ones hardest to love. Which is no easy work. But we undertake it. Quite imperfectly to be sure, Because in doing so we experience grace, mercy, and healing in Action: Not abstraction. Laying down our egos, our long held grudges and resentments, And seeking the way of love is where we find the fullness of life in Christ and one another. Let’s take a moment of silence together now, To pray for those that are hard for us to love. Try to think of those people, that make Jesus’ commandment to love your neighbor challenging. Let’s pray to have our hearts opened, Healed, Reconciled, And ready to love those who seem unlovable. Let’s pray for ourselves: that we might find the strength to love our Lord with our whole heart, soul, an minds, and to love our neighbors (ALL our neighbors) as ourselves. Amen. AnnouncementsSave the Date: Ecumenical Thanksgiving Service at St. John's, 6pm, Wednesday, 11/22/2023, see the calendar
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and Pie SocialHappy 31st Wedding anniversary on Tuesday to Sue and Duey Stelzner
Welcome to our annual stewardship Sunday!
I was shocked to discover that on the day we talk about giving money to the church: We were handed a Gospel text that talks about money. (I swear I didn’t plan it that way!) And it’s not just about Money: But everyone’s favorite topic: Taxes! But this story isn’t actually about taxes at all. And it’s also not really a debate about the relationship between Church and State. Instead, Jesus is stuck in a conversation with some people who are trying to trick him, Under the guise of taxes. It started out as a plot to get Jesus in trouble, Or at the very least arrested, And at the most, killed. Matthew, the Gospel writer says upfront that these Pharisees were trying “to entrap Jesus in what he said.” They were plotting against him: Trying to trick him and trap him. They think: They HOPE: That if they ask him if it’s lawful to pay taxes to the emperor or not, That no matter which way Jesus answers, Someone will want to go after him. If Jesus says that it’s NOT lawful to pay taxes to the emperor, Then he could be arrested for treason. If he says that it IS lawful to pay taxes to the emperor, Then he is discredited as a good and faithful Jew: Because in that time, in that empire, paying the emperor was like claiming his divinity: Making the emperor into a God and idol: A big no-no for the Jews. No matter what: Jesus is trapped. The Pharisees ask him a yes or no question, Knowing that both answers will get Jesus in trouble in one way or another. But as we’ll see, As we KNOW: Jesus will not be tricked. And Jesus will not be trapped. Instead, he asks for a coin. And that coin was not too different from our own coins today. Instead of an image of a president: That coin had on it the image of the emperor. And pointing to the image on the coin Jesus says the famous words, “Give therefore to the emperor the things that are the emperor’s and to God the things that are God’s.” Holding the coin, Jesus refuses to fall into the trap, He refuses to answer yes or no, And instead, he basically says, “give it back to whom it belongs.” And since it has the emperors face on it, it obviously belongs to the emperor. It’s not actually a statement about taxes. It’s not a statement about the relationship of religious people to their government. But it is a statement about ownership. And about belonging. As usual, Jesus doesn’t make it easy. And his words aren’t simple. All he says is, “Give therefore to the emperor the things that are the emperor’s and to God the things that are God’s.” He doesn’t tell us which is which. He doesn’t give us a clear division: That this is the emperors, This is God’s. And this is what you get to keep yourself. So we have to draw on what we already know, In order to see that what Jesus is talking about is much deeper than taxes, money, and politics. The coin belongs to the emperor because it was stamped with the emperor’s image. It was marked with an inscription that probably said, “Tiberius Caesar, majestic son of divine Augustus, High Priest.” At the very least, that particular coin, belonged particularly to Caesar. It literally said so. It was made BY the emperor for the emperor’s purpose. If the coin is stamped and marked in the image of the emperor, it belongs to the emperor. So what belongs to God? What is stamped and marked in the image of God? What is created for God’s purpose? I think you know the answer. We are. One characteristic of human beings in particular: Over all other animals: Is that we are created in the image of God. And that’s not all. As Christians, We believe that we are further marked, Or using the same language as the coin: We are stamped, and inscribed with the sign of the cross in baptism. As my favorite line in the prayer book says, The words that the priest says when anointing a recently baptized person: “You are sealed by the Holy Spirit in baptism, And marked as Christ’s own forever.” It’s who we are. Humans, made in God’s image, Marked as Christ’s own forever. BUT even THAT’S NOT ALL. As Christians, We also believe that GOD: Became human, in the person of Jesus: Became ONE OF US. So that we might become even more like him. The image of us, the image of God, The image of Jesus himself, Are all wrapped up in each other. Belonging to each other. When Jesus says, Give to the emperor the things that are the emperors and to God the things that are Gods,” He’s not merely talking about money, taxes, or politics. He’s talking about our deepest allegiances, Our ultimate loyalty, And the REALITY of who we really are, Who we are made to be. We belong to God. And all that we do is to be marked by that conviction. All the competing claims for our lives, And for our allegiances, Should be understood in the light of who we are, And whose we are. Whose image, likeness, and stamp we bear. That same one: JESUS: Who took on humanity in its fullness, In order for us to bear that stamp even more deeply. This doesn’t make our politics easier. It doesn’t give us answers about the tax code, Or what kind of tax reform might be best. But it does remind us of who we are, and whose we are. And that should guide our efforts as we move throughout this broken world. Give to God what is God’s-- For God owns that which he has made in his own image. God is Lord over that which bears his inscription. It is God’s image, In ourselves, And in other. That should guide our actions, For justice, compassion, righteousness, and truth. It is God’s image that gives value and meaning to what we do, And to who we are. It is God who marks us, Seals us, And with love breathes upon us. It is God’s image that assures us that who we ARE matters. That what we DO matters. And today, in just a moment, we have the opportunity fill out a pledge card for our giving to God: Particularly to God through St. John’s Church. And if we’re being honest: We know that our money is huge part of our lives: (Not the only part: And not the most important part) but certainly a big part. Our money is also a huge part of our selves: And our lives, our selves: Our image and our likeness is that of Gods. I urge you now: To take a few moments of silence, Fill out your card: And you’re ready: come up and offer it on the altar, And Give, therefore, to the emperor the things that are the emperor’s. But Give to God the things that are God’s. Amen. Announcements:
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Happy Birthday Pam O'Brian Sign up for Trunk or Treat - reply to the email “Therefore I tell you, the kingdom of God will be taken away from you and given
to a people that produces the fruits of the kingdom.” We haven’t had sweet Gospel stories lately, have we? This parable that Jesus tells today is a hard one to wrap our heads around-- Its hard to understand what Jesus is getting at. But I think what Jesus is getting at, is the larger story of salvation history, all the way up until Jesus’ time, and the confrontation between himself, and the religious leadership of his day. As it says at the end of the passage, “When the chief priests and the Pharisees heard his parables, they realized that he was speaking about them.” Using another parable about God’s vineyard, Jesus likens the religious leaders of his time to the wicked tenants, who beat, stone, and kill the land owners slaves. And ultimately, Jesus foretells of his own death, As the wicked tenants in the parable also kill the landowners son. No doubt those leaders felt threatened and angry: And decided to arrest Jesus. But they had to wait for the time to be right, because they were afraid of resistance from Jesus’ followers. And we know what happens next: Jesus’ betrayal and arrest, His trial and crucifixion, All followed by the resurrection that began a whole new relationship between God and humanity. It’s a story that we already know, Even if it’s hard for us to initially figure out what’s going on and who’s who in the parable. So let’s sum it up: God the landowner has a vineyard: And the vineyard represents the people of Israel. God leases the vineyard to tenant farmers, who are the Jewish religious leaders. When the time is right, the landowner sends his slaves, who are the old testament prophets to collect the produce of the vineyard. The religious leader tenants beat, stone and kill the prophets, And eventually even kill the landowners only Son, Jesus. In the end, the landowner takes the vineyard away from the tenant farmers, He puts them to a miserable death, and leases the vineyard to a new people, People who are not just the Israelites, but all those who follow Jesus, and produce the fruit of God’s kingdom. Once we understand who is who in the story, It’s a nice enough story, as long as we are the ones who are producing fruit. It’s not so nice if we’re the tenants: The tenants who failed to give God his due, And suffered a miserable death, Losing all they had hoped to gain for refusing to pay their fair rent, Not giving God the landowner what he deserved. The hard reality is that sometimes we ARE like the tenants. Sometimes we shy away from what Jesus would have us do. Sometimes we are selfish. Sometimes we participate in violence. Sometimes we refuse to share the fruits of the vineyard. Sometimes we fail to respond lovingly to the gifts of God’s creation that envelop our lives. How can we face the seeming inconsistency of knowing God as loving, gracious, and all giving on the one hand, And on the other-- Seeing God as judging and punishing? Do wicked tenants make for a wicked god? In order to answer that question, We have to start with the fact that God initiates the relationship with US. Not the other way around. (Remember God’s invitation to the vineyard in last week’s parable?) God calls us to be in unity with God and all people. God’s reaching out to us is best understood as his giving us everything we have-- With no strings attached: And without our deserving it. Without our having done anything to gain it. Our collect for today puts it well, That God always wants to give more than we either DESIRE or DESERVE. Despite this, Jesus made it clear that we are the most precious beings in all creation: So valuable, That we are worth dying for. We don’t have to earn God’s love: It’s given freely. So why would a loving God put us to a miserable death? Maybe it’s not God: But we who might choose that for ourselves. The wicked tenants received all they needed from the landowner, But they refused to accept his graciousness. They turned their backs on him, his servants, and even his son. And they were given multiple opportunities to try again. They weren’t even cast out the first time that they participated in violence, But instead, it wasn’t until the THIRD time. By their actions and inactions, They cast themselves out of the vineyard. One could even say its similar to the way that Adam and Eve’s disobedience resulted in their loss of the benefits of the Garden of Eden. The miserable death we might experience can only result from our failure to accept the gifts of God, And respond to them in thanksgiving, Again and again and again. The miserable death can only result from our selfishly acting as if the vineyard is all ours-- Or should be all ours and no one else’s, let alone God’s, And doing so again, and again, and again. We have the capability to cast ourselves out of God’s vineyard: Producing a self-inflicted kind of misery, That we alone can create. Today’s Gospel is not a story about a vengeful wicked God. It’s a warning for us about what we can miss out on if we act like the wicked tenants. It reminds us that God gives us more than we either deserve or DESIRE. It’s like the words to the famous doxology: “Praise God from whom all blessings flow.” Praise God who freely gives us more than we deserve or desire. And what we have is not ours to own, But is on loan from God. We need to remember that God’s way of grace and love is wooing us to respond to our good fortune, Of living in his vineyard, By reflecting that love in our actions toward others. And remembering that we have been blessed, in order to be a blessing. God has already set up the vineyard for us. And it’s more than we deserve, More than we can even desire. But it remains God’s vineyard. We can share it, Or we can try to hoard it for ourselves. We can stay, Or we can go. God has already acted. The next choice is ours. Amen.
We are WEEKS deep into hearing Parables from Matthew’s Gospel.
And today’s parable is yet another illustration of what God is like. It’s also an illustration that reminds us what WE are like. In a conversation with the Chief priests and elders in the temple, Jesus tells a story about a father and his two sons. The father asks both of his sons to go to work in the family vineyard. The first son says something like, “Sure! I’ll get right on that!” But in the end, he doesn’t follow through. We know what that’s like. We ask our spouse or child to take out the trash, or empty the dishwasher, and they say “Sure! I’ll get right on that: Just as soon as its halftime.” Or “Sure! After this chapter is over.” Or “Sure! At the end of this episode.” If we’re honest, more than a few of us have surely been guilty of that response ourselves. We all know the first son because we’ve all made promises or commitments that, for whatever reason we fail to keep. But then there’s this other son. This is the son who gets most of Jesus’ attention. Unlike his brother, the second son initially says he won’t help out in the vineyard. But then he winds up doing so in the end. Now, we can ask all sorts of questions about why the second son changed his mind. Preachers and biblical scholars have been asking those questions for centuries: But that’s not what we’re going to dig into today. The truth that this parable brings to bear has nothing to do with the second son’s hesitation: And EVERYTHING to do with the fact that in the end: He showed up. In fact, the pattern of this parable is the pattern of our life with God. No matter what we’ve done, Or what may have initially prevented us, God is always extending an invitation to us. We are constantly being drawn into a new place-- To new depths of faith. No matter if this is the first time we’ve heard the Gospel, Or if we’ve been faithful Christians for decades: This parable shows us one significant fact: That God isn’t done with us yet. Although we might wish for God to say to us, “Okay. You’ve gone far enough: You can retire now and spend the rest of your days relaxing in the back pew” The truth is that the Christian life has no top status. And in order to live into God’s invitation: We must be willing to leave the past behind-- No matter how comfortable or familiar or profitable-- And turn toward the future: Complete with all of its uncertainties and questions and anxieties. And that’s HARD! Consider the Chief priests and the elders of Jesus’ time. They had quite a bit invested in the status quo. Leaving the past behind, Meant forfeiting their claims to power and position: Which had become a part of their identities. Stepping into life with Jesus meant leaving all of that behind in favor of a future they couldn’t fully predict and couldn’t control. One can’t help but wonder if the first son had similar thoughts. After all, saying “yes” is the easy part-- Particularly when we don’t pause to consider the costs. But actually doing the work? Actually showing up? That’s a different story. God isn’t satisfied with just letting things stay the way that they are. There’s always more work to do; More kingdom to build, And we hear that, and we get excited and we say, “Yes! Sign me up! That’s what I want!” But then reality sets in and we look around and we think. “Hmmm… The status quo really isn’t all bad. My life is okay the way it is now. I don’t need to do the extra stuff. I’ll just settle back in. Plus: Who knows if I’m going to like the work that God is calling me to? And more importantly, who knows if I’m going to get along with the OTHER people who show up to work in God’s vineyard? So… I know that I said yes, but I’ve thought about it, and well…” Then there’s the other son. And for as much as preaches and scholars have wondered why he changed his mind, I can’t help but wonder what made him say “no” in the first place. Could it be that he himself had been told “no” so many times that he thought himself unworthy? When all you’ve ever known is oppression, why in the world would you trust that this time would be any different? But as our parables usually show us: God isn’t like you and me. God doesn’t take no for an answer. Although institutions and structures and people do their best to wall off and box in: God is always breaking barriers and crossing lines and pushing boundaries to invite us to new and abundant life! The parable that Jesus tells is universal because at one time or another, Every single one of us has found ourselves in that thin place between the relative ease and comfort of saying “yes,” to God: And actually putting one foot in front of the other and walking along the rocky and dirt-paved path to the vineyard. We’re all caught somewhere between the excited “yes” of the first son, and the slow conversion, change of heart of the second son. Much like the first son, We’ve all been fed one of the biggest lies ever told in the name of Christianity: That following Jesus would be easy. And much like the second son, We all know what it’s like to feel as if too much has been asked and that its too far to go. But at the end of the day, one thing remains true: There’s more kingdom to build, More vineyard work to be done: And God has put out the call to all who dare to join him. So Come to the vineyard for work! Show up! Even if you show up late: Even if you don’t want to come the first time your invited. (or even the second or third time.) God CONTINUES welcomes you to the vineyard: And you can walk in and join in on the work at any time. Amen. no video of sermon todayIn the Episcopal Church, and many other mainline denominations,
our Sunday readings come from a compilation called the Lectionary. The lectionary runs on a three year cycle: Which means that every three years, we hear the same stories, And TWELVE years ago, when we heard this parable of the laborers in the vineyard-- Was a day that I remember well. I was in seminary, And I was working at a small church in Connecticut—Emmanuel Episcopal Church-- It was also known as “The Little Church in the Wilderness” I was hired there to start a Sunday School program And I was the sole Sunday school teacher. In a one room school house style, children from age 3 to age 12 sat with me on Sunday morning to hear the Gospel stories. After I told the children the Gospel story we read today—I asked them to draw or write about the story-- This activity was something that we did every single week. On that day—the kids said to me, “We need a very big piece of paper.” When I asked why, they said, “We’re going to draw one big picture all together-- Because we’re a community.” They said it as if it were the most common thing in the world-- And looked at me as if I were a moron. I was stunned. And obviously couldn’t argue with that. They spent the rest of the time, Working together on a big picture of these laborers in the vineyard. At the very top, they wrote: “No Matter what, God loves everyone the same!” That was a very proud day for this Sunday School teacher. I couldn’t have put it better myself. And here I am, twelve years later: telling you about it in a sermon. Because it’s the DEEP TRUTH. We are indeed a community-- A community who needs to do things together-- who needs to support one another. This has been a consistent theme in the last few weeks. We heard about resolving conflicts in our communities, And we heard about the importance of forgiveness. And today we hear that we’re also a community of equality-- Where God loves each of us the same. And never abandons anyone-- Never gives up on anyone-- No matter what time they arrive-- No matter how long they’ve been working. Jesus’ story tells us about a landowner, who went out early in the morning to hire laborers for his vineyard. At 9’oclock he went out and found some more laborers, He did the same at noon, 3’oclock, and 5’oclock. And all of those laborers, Get paid the same amount. Is it an Injustice? Or could it be justice? It strikes me that the kids at the little church in the wilderness had no problem with the seeming unfairness of this passage. It made perfect sense to them. But to our grown up modern ears-- This story seems unfair. The workers—who have been working ALL day-- Get paid the exact same amount as the workers who worked for only one hour. It seems unfair. It seems unjust. Especially because it’s about MONEY. But we must remember that this is a parable-- Which means its a story that Jesus tells to illustrate what the Kingdom of heaven is like. And in this story, God is like the landowner, And we are like the laborers. Jesus isn’t talking about our understandings of THIS WORLD-- Where we are rewarded or paid by the hour. Or where if you’re first in line, you are guaranteed the newest i-phone, or tickets to the polar express train. And if you’re too far back—you might not get one. Jesus is talking about the Kingdom of Heaven-- Where our understandings get turned upside down. Where there’s real equality. Real Justice. Real love, Where God promises to love every person No. Matter. What. Looking at it again, This passage should not strike us as unfair. After all: The laborers who worked all day AGREED to the wage ahead of time. And they were given the wage that they agreed to. The landowner did not trick them. The landowner did not take anything away from them. He just gave everyone else the same amount too. This passage should instead strike us as a relief. Not as unfairness: But as the most GENERIOUS FAIRNESS possible. It should give us great hope that God is a God of equality. A great and generous God. A God who never abandons. A God who forever loves everyone. But that’s also sometimes the hard part. (Are you on to me yet? That I’m almost always going to bring us to the hardest part?) It’s hard, Because if God is a God of equality-- A God of generosity-- Then although God loves you DEEPLY, VIGOUROSLY, COMPLETELY, No matter where you are in line, or when you showed up to work-- That also means that: God also loves EVERY ONE else that way too. Everyone else. EVERYONE else. That’s hard for us to grasp-- In a culture of winners and losers. A culture where people “get what they deserve.” A culture paranoid with being the best. Having the most. Climbing the ladder, Grasping for the top. It’s amazing to me that the children at the Church in the Wilderness deeply understood: That “God loves everyone the same.” And I didn’t tell them that when I read them this story. I literally just read them the story. They figured it out all by themselves. And they proceeded to live into it: To participate in a common project-- All together-- All the same-- There was no way they could evaluate who drew the best picture-- Or who wrote the smartest thing. Because they did it all together-- As a community-- Knowing that God loves them ALL the same. And generously gives to everyone ALL the same-- Regardless of what anyone deserves: God has set out to create a huge community of equality. A community of unimaginable “Fairness” But where Fairness becomes something quite different than our culture currently defines it. In God’s kingdom, Fairness and Justice is God loving all of us the same: And: Loving EVERYONE ELSE The same too. No matter how many people enter our doors, No matter how long we’ve been working, No matter how long we’ve been members of the church. No matter where we live, No matter where we are in line, No matter what. God loves all of us the same. Amen. As we make our way through Matthew’s Gospel,
Hearing snippets of the story every week, We hear some things that might make us uncomfortable. Last week, There was a story about dealing with conflict. This week, about forgiveness, And without spoiling it, I’ll say that next week is going to be about money. The parable that we hear from Jesus today is not a story of sweet comfort: It actually challenges us in a very tender way: Acknowledging the reality of the trouble we have with forgiveness. The story has two scenes: First, inside the throne room of a powerful king; Second, just outside in a palace corridor. But there’s not just two scenes. This story also tells of two worlds: The world as we know it, And the world as God WANTS it. The throne room changes in a moment. From the world as we know it, To the world as God wants it. But the palace corridor: The second scene: Starts out as the world as we know it, And fails to become the world as God wants it. The first scene, The throne room: The world as we know it, Shows us a boss. Who is reviewing accounts. And somebody: A slave: Owes him big time. REALLY big time. No way can this guy pay back what he owes. He’s in too deep. He owes too much. So the boss man orders him to be sold. Along with his wife, His children. And all of his possessions. And hearing his sentence, the slave drops to his knees. He weeps, and wails, crying out for mercy. He makes a promise he knows he can’t keep, begging his boss, “Have patience with me, and I will pay you everything.” And as so often happens with a story that Jesus tells, Something unexpected happens. Out of nowhere, All of a sudden, The King released the slave, And forgave him the debt. The world as we know it-- Becomes the world as God wants it. Where debts are forgiven, And mercy is extended. And what happens next to this forgiven slave? When we enter scene two, In the palace corridor, It’s pretty clear that he’s missed to point. He can’t see the world as God wants it. He’s not even outside the BUILDING: He’s in the palace corridor, When he runs into somebody who owes him something. He grabs the guy by the collar, And tries to shake the money out of him. This second debtor does his own pleading for mercy. Using almost the same words, He makes a promise he knows he can’t keep, begging his fellow slave, “Have patience with me, and I will pay you.” You’d think it would be a no-brainer: For the forgiven debtor to remember that just a few MOMENTS ago: He was granted the same mercy and forgiveness. You’d think that mercy received would result in mercy given. But that doesn’t happen. The forgiven man refuses to show mercy. He refuses to forgive. He boots his fellow slave into the nearest prison. And the world remains the world as we know it, With no move toward the world as God wants it. It took the forgiven slave mere minutes, To forget the blessing, The possibility, The potential: Of the world as God wants it. And here we get to the crux of the matter. Here we get to the heart of why forgiveness is hard. Because we too forget. In a matter of mere minutes: That we are forgiven. We forget. That we are Sinners: who are forgiven. Debtors: Who are let off the hook. Slaves: Who are freed in mercy. And we have a choice. The choice to remain in the world as we know it: Or to strive for the world as God wants it. This choice is the most beautiful part. And it’s also the hardest part. We get to choose. We can be like the freed slave: taking our forgiveness and blessing: And then forget all about it. Or we can be like the boss-king: Taking our forgiveness and blessing: And using it to continue to forgive and bless. We get to choose. And no matter which one we choose: We’re STILL blessed and forgiven. Whichever way we go: Whether we are content in the world as we know it, Or we strive for the world as God wants it. God has already blessed and forgiven. What you do with it, Is up to you. It’s the beauty, But also the hard part of forgiveness. Forgiveness is not easy. It’s costly. It’s not sweet and sentimental. Forgiveness is hard work. And even though we have a choice, Jesus is pretty clear that if we’re going to follow him: We must forgive. Because if we’re going to follow Jesus, We should strive for the world as God wants it. At the end of the story, the boss king finds out that the slave took his mercy and forgiveness, And forgot all about it. Returning to the world as we know it. The boss king handed him over to be tortured until he would pay his entire debt. And Jesus, In a really uncomfortable moment says, “so my heavenly father will also do to every one of you, If you do not forgive your brother or sister from your heart.” The one who forgives, Ushers in the world as God wants it. The one who doesn’t forgive, Lives in the world as we know it. A world that we very well know can be filled with the torturous pain of vengeance. It’s easy to live in the world as we know it, And to forget that we’re forgiven. To forget to forgive. And that’s why we gather here. Where we confess our sins, And hear that we are already forgiven. We gather here in this throne room, And present to God, Our selves, our souls, and bodies. And when we come to the table together, We see a brief glimpse of that world as God wants it. And then the time comes to leave this throne room, And go out into the world as we know it. Where we will certainly meet someone who needs our mercy. And will we remember? Will we remember the possibility, The potential, And the blessing of the world as God wants it? Here lies the beauty. And here lies the challenge. Amen.
“God forbid it, Lord! This must never happen to you.”
These words are Peter’s impulsive response to the devastating news that Jesus – his friend, healer and teacher, beloved: his divine Lord and savior – would suffer. MUST suffer, be killed and be raised. Peter, like most of us, reacts to the fact of suffering with fear and denial. Jesus famously replies: “Get behind me Satan! You are a stumbling block to me, for you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things.” In his human concept of time, Peter has reacted out of fear of suffering and loss in the short term. He has focused on the fact that Jesus must suffer and be killed. His focus on suffering-- ignoring the good news that follows is a stumbling block to Jesus’ work in the world-- Leaving Jesus to liken him to Satan-- As one who cannot see the good to come. Jesus continues with a paradox: “For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it.” “It” refers to eternal life. A great and glorious future-- Jesus is instructing Peter to focus on this glorious future: To focus on divine things: Not merely human sensibilities of time, suffering, and pain: But the Divine promise that Jesus will be raised, and in the last day, we all shall be raised. And Peter already knows this. Just prior to the conversation, we heard Peter answer the question: “Who do you say that I am?” Peter declared that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of the living God. Jesus complimented him on his great faith and offered him the keys to the Kingdom of Heaven. Yet here’s the Christian paradox: One that Peter demonstrates quite well: Of being a faithful yet human Christian. We, like Peter, believe Jesus’ words that suffering will ultimately be eliminated. At the same time, we live in the world: A world where suffering exists. And Jesus reminds us, over and over again-- To work toward alleviating this worldy suffering wherever we can: feeding the hungry, healing the sick, blessing the dying, loving our neighbor. It seems that we are to set our minds on both human and divine matters. And Jesus too demonstrates this paradox: As Jesus himself is the point where the reality of God, enters the reality of this world. Fully human, and fully God: Where the human and divine purposes are fully united. Our lesson from Jeremiah shows this suffering (and the paradox) in a real way. Jeremiah laments in his pain unceasing, his wound incurable. And also proclaims that God’s words became a joy and delight of his heart. And in Jeremiah’s lament: God still says: “I am with you to save you and deliver you. I will deliver you out of the hand of the wicked and redeem you from the grasp of the ruthless.” It’s the constant paradox: The pain, grief, and mess of life: Right next to the joy and delight promised by God. Theres another lesson appointed for today: That we didn’t read. And it’s a well known one from the book of Exodus: Where the Holy Mystery meets the reality of this world. The paradox of God’s great power, amid human mess. It’s the famous story about Moses and the burning bush. Where Moses is going about his daily routine. Tending the flocks, doing nothing out of the ordinary. Yet in the burning bush, God says to Moses: “Remove the sandals from your feet, for the place on which you are standing is holy ground.” We see that the first response of the human to the divine encounter must be of reverence. But that is not all: God is clear that reverence is to be followed by action. The Divine meeting the human world. Moses is given the task to lead the Israelites out of slavery. A human task: Given by God. When Moses asks God’s name: God says “I am who I am,” Which is also translated: “I shall be who I shall be.” God is now and God is eternal. And so are we. In his letter to the Romans, Paul gives instructions for living a faithful life today: But he also talks about this paradox: The tension between the now, and the eternal future. Paul says: “Rejoice in hope, be patient in suffering, persevere in prayer. Yet when Paul speaks of rejoicing in hope, he is speaking of the hope of the resurrection: The Kingdom of God on Earth. Be patient in suffering because suffering WILL cease. Persevere in prayer because this is the reverent response to the divine. Yet pray the prayer that always leads to action: extending hospitality to strangers. Rejoicing with those who rejoice and weeping with those who weep. And do it now. Jesus reminds us that we do not have much time. “Truly I tell you, there are some standing here who will not taste death before they see the Son of Man coming in his kingdom.” In the early Christian communities there was a strong sense that the Kingdom of God was coming soon. And Jesus portrays this urgency: By telling his disciples to live with the paradox of faith. As he embodies the greatest paradox of all: Christ himself: Both fully human and fully divine: MUST suffer and die before he is raised to eternal life. JESUS: is the embodiment of both the reality of the world: Which always includes suffering and death, And the reality of the divine: Which is eternal life. Jesus even instructs the disciples in the form of a paradox: “For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it.” We are to live the way of the great “I Am” and the glorious “I shall be.” Because we ARE We also SHALL BE. We are to live a life of reverent prayer and a life of faithful action. We are to live as if we have not much time and as if we have all the time in the world. German theologian Dietrich Bonhoeffer, in prison during World War II, faced great suffering, alongside great faith. He wrote: “What remains for us is only the very narrow path, sometimes barely discernible, of taking each day as if it were the last and yet living it faithfully and responsibly as if there were yet to be a great future.” This is the divine way. It is also the human way. This is the mystery and the paradox of faith. Amen. “But who do you say that I am? You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God!”
This is not just about who Jesus is. This is also about who WE REALLY are. Who we are as the united Church. We hear today, about who Peter really is: Peter: Who’s doubted, who’s misunderstood Jesus countless times. But today: if even for a brief moment: Peter gets it. Jesus tells Simon Peter who he is, “You are Peter, and on this rock I will build my Church. I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven.” So often we think of Jesus as the one who is both human and divine. We think of ourselves as merely humans. But we are more than mere humans and so was Peter. We’re certainly not God. But we are the Church—which is no normal human thing. I want to tell you about a young man who taught me about who WE are in the body of Christ—in the church. I met Tommy in the hospital in the wee hours of a Sunday morning over a decade ago. I was a hospital chaplain in a level 1 trauma center hospital in Hartford CT. I met Tommy on a day when he wasn’t himself. After a terrible accident, this young man was on his deathbed from the moment he came through the doors. I never heard his voice. I never saw him breathe on his own. There was nothing the doctors could do. But Tommy: a high school student: was kept alive for a few hours while his parents rushed to the hospital from a nearby small town. The scene was brutal. The kind of thing that nobody should ever have to witness. The kind of thing that shouldn’t happen to anyone. His mother holding his hand, His father’s hand resting on his chest as it lifted and dropped for the last few times. In these moments, there was nothing that my human sensibilities could actually do. Nothing that I could ever say. But God did a lot of work on that early morning. Just as God always does. It was no mere human thing. On that night, I felt profoundly human—emotions of pain and grief running through me as I watched these loving parents say goodbye to their young son. But that hospital room was not just human stuff. God was in that room. Not in a “God in the clouds” sort of way. God was in each of us—and God—is ALWAYS in each of us. Because of who we really are. We are not merely human: We are the church: holding the keys of the kingdom of heaven just like Peter. Being “Church” is no normal human thing. When Paul talks about “Church” he says: “For as in one body we have many members” “Individually we are members of another.” In that hospital room, as Tommy lay dying, we were members of another: with the holy spirit—moving, breathing, and beating within us. The Living God—putting deep and intense love within us. Unfortunately, it’s not an easy kind of love. Because this kind of love—God’s love—is REAL. REAL. PAINFUL. BRUTAL. And we can’t pretend that it’s not. God sent his only Son to literally Die—real death. It’s brutal, Death: The most painful thing that can happen to a human, because of awfully Divine love. Completely, incomprehensible love. On that early morning: I was overwhelmed by the REAL Divine love in Tommy’s parents. Their human grief was profoundly Divine. Human pain--from real love. And we love: Because God first loved us. Because God has made us into lovers. It’s no normal human attribute-- This divine love placed deep within us—forming us into who we really are. But do not misunderstand. This does not, in any way discount the awful grief and pain that humans feel. This does NOT take away from the intensity that Tommy’s parents (and unfortunately many others) will feel for their entire lives. This does not make anything good or better. There is Nothing that could ever make this pain good. There is Nothing that ever makes it okay. But our pain is not merely a human thing. Because our Love is not merely a human thing. The real brutality—the most painful part— of that morning was the desperate love of Tommy’s mother. His mother, in the most intense grief I have ever experienced also loved him fiercely-- (I witnessed this, well before I was a mother myself) Tommy waited to take his last breath: AFTER his parents had arrived, and we said the Lord’s prayer together. And his mother: through shouts of anguish: Also told her Son how happy she was that he could join the heavenly host. But don’t mistake me. In this profuse love, Tommy’s mother felt unbearable pain. Pain that I will always remember and pain that will never ever leave her. And that’s how God is. That’s how God made us to be. To love profusely. It is not who we are “called to be” But who we really are at our deepest being. So who do you say that I am? Who do we say that WE are? Christian? sure. But to be a Christian means that we are more than mere humans. We hold the keys to the kingdom of heaven. To be “Church” means we must be lovers. Divine lovers. And it hurts. It’s painful. It’s brutal. We can’t run from it. We can’t hide from it. Because it is deeply a part of who we are. Because God Loved us first. And Loved profusely. Desperately. Fiercely. Amen. |
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