Sunday, October 13, 2024

Imagine, for a moment, a man named Sam who was carrying many boxes. These were not ordinary boxes. Instead, these were boxes lined with silver and gold and filled with precious things. Sam loved these boxes. When he would show off these boxes to other people – they were impressed too.  Carrying around his boxes – and showing off to others – made Sam feel really important. These boxes gave him status. Everyone knew that he was rich, that he was the man with the precious boxes. Sam invested some of the contents of his boxes  - and that made him plenty of money to live really well.

 Sam’s wealth didn’t turn him into a mean and miserly man. He was generous and kind. He followed the commandments and gave a portion of his wealth to the church and to charity. From all outward appearances, this man literally had it all.

 And yet… he felt as if he was missing something. What was it? He had everything he needed or even wanted for this life – season tickets to the theatre and orchestra. Of course, he sat in the best seats. He was an upstanding citizen and was considered wise. He even served in an advisory capacity to the local leader.  He had everything he could imagine he would ever want for this life.  But…suddenly he felt an emptiness inside of him, a hole. He tried to shake the feeling after all. He had more than enough. But the hole kept growing… what could he do with his life? What could he do that would make a difference and get rid of that nagging feeling of emptiness. And what about the next life? After all – he’s comfortable now. But, as they say, “You can’t take it with you.” So what should he do to fill the hole in his heart and secure his seamless transition into the glory of God’s holy heaven? What was it? Sam was at a loss.

 Wait – isn’t there a rabbi in town? People say that he is really wise. Some of his teachings are hard. But he blessed the children and said that “to such as these the kingdom of God belongs.”  Sam started to get excited and thought, “if this rabbi could bless children – wouldn’t he also bless me? I could even give him one of my boxes for his trouble.”

 Without another moment of hesitation, Sam gathered up his boxes and ran out the door. Or rather… he walked quickly.  He hadn’t learned yet how to run with his boxes piled high above his head. Sam saw Jesus getting up and taking his leave of the children.  Sam started to go faster – almost dropping one of his boxes – but catching it just in time.

 “Rabbi, teacher, wait up!” Breathlessly Sam rushed up to Jesus, knelt before him and said, ““Good Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?”  

 Jesus started to give him the answer from the catechism. But Sam said, “Yes, yes, I’ve done all of those things since I was a kid.”

 Jesus looked at Sam – and loved him. Sam felt the love of Jesus surround him. It was warmer than the summer sun, sweeter than honey and filled him up to overflowing. Yes! This was what he had been looking for! But then Jesus said, “You lack one thing; go, sell what you own, and give the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me.”

 Sam was shocked. What?! ALL of it? Even Deuteronomy only asked for 10%. He couldn’t imagine life without his precious boxes. He had grown accustomed to the abundance of plenty. He wasn’t sure he wanted an abundance of discipleship. And so…with a heavy heart, Sam walked away.  Sam’s precious boxes – his money – got in the way of discipleship, of following Jesus. His hands were too full to receive the gift Jesus was holding out for him.

 Most of us don’t think of ourselves as having that problem – we don’t think of ourselves as financially wealthy - although people in poorer regions of the world might disagree. But money is not the only thing that can get in the way of following Jesus.  What distracts you? Your job? Your schedule? Your obligations? The election?

 Sometimes the distraction comes from the other direction – the distraction of loss. I think of the people in Florida and up and down the East coast. They were hit first by Hurricane Helene and then Hurricane Milton. Even if the hurricane or tornadoes didn’t hit their community, the overwhelming amount of rain and water did. For many of them – everything that they had worked for had washed away. For others, it is the loss of people we love. We can become so distracted by the challenges of this world or the sorrows of our heart, that we sometimes feel as if we come up empty, a hole in our heart.

And yet, even as Jesus compares the challenge of a rich person going to heaven as impossible as a camel going through the eye of a needle, Jesus reminds us, that while such a thing is impossible for us,  “Nothing is impossible for God.” 

 Have you ever seen trapeze artists?   They fly through the air doing incredible stunts and make it look so easy. And yet, the first rule for a trapeze artist is that you cannot hold onto two bars at the same time. And so, you must let go of the one that you are holding onto for dear life – in order to grasp the second bar.  So for a moment – a fraction of a second, they are hanging in midair with no visible means of support. It takes courage to let go. As one trapeze artist describes it,  “It is my next step, my growth, my aliveness coming to get me. I know in my heart of hearts that for me to grow, I must release my grip on the present well-known bar to move to the next one.1

 Like the trapeze artist, our first step is to let go.  It takes courage– whether like the rich man you are holding on to too much or whether you are so filled with sorrow, loss, fear or anxiety that you have a hard time looking beyond the present moment. But with Jesus’ help, we can let go because we can’t make ourselves right with God. And our second step is to trust  -- just as the trapeze artist has to trust their partner to catch them, so we can trust Jesus to catch us. We can trust Jesus with everything we hold onto – the good and the bad, our riches and our sorrows, our gifts and our challenges.

 Jesus calls us to a life of discipleship because Jesus wants to be our companion on the whole journey – not just in the scenic places – but also in the hospital waiting room, the financial planner’s office, at work and at play.  For Jesus never stopped loving the rich man – even though he walked away. And Jesus never stops loving you and the people who are in harm’s way whether by storm or from enemy fire.  Instead, Jesus invites us all, regardless of our situation, to

open our hands, our hearts and our lives to receive the gift of God’s love and care. For a life of discipleship is a life of abundance, a life worth living. Thanks be to God. Amen.

 1 Courtney Allen Crump, A Sermon for every Sunday, https://asermonforeverysunday.com

 October 13, 2024 + Faith-Lilac Way Lutheran + Pastor Pam Stalheim Lane

Prayers of the People

Challenged by God’s Word in Christ, let us pray for the church, the world, and the whole creation.

A brief silence.

Holy God, teach us to trust and to follow you. May your love inspire us to build supportive communities of faith where all are cherished. Be with our Wildfire congregations and help us work together for your sake and the sake of the community. May we be generous bearers of your eternal love.

God of grace, hear our prayer.

Steadfast God, inspire world leaders to work for peace wherever there is war and strife, including Ukraine and Russia, and the Middle East, for Israel, Gaza, Lebanon and Iran and for places that are also experiencing war and strife but do not make our headlines. Mighty God, we trust in you to make a way for peace when no way seems possible. Surround those who are experiencing the devastation of their homes and land from floods and storms. We commend to your care all who have been affected by Hurricane Helene and Milton by other natural disasters.  Be with our people as we get closer to our election, especially when division threatens companionship, mutual support, and unity among us.

God of grace, hear our prayer.

Compassionate God,  grant healing and wholeness to all who are in need of your care – and of our care. From our congregation we name: David Bjorkquist, Helen Brandon, Carol Brown, Jacqueline Butkowski, Grace Lawson,  Joyce Merkel, Jackie Mueller, Betty Schmidt, Linda St. John, Dan Walmsley, Jackie Woolgar, Vic Woolgar. We also name – silently or aloud -- all others who are in need care, wholeness and healing ….

God of grace, hear our prayer.

Into your hands, O God, we commend all for whom we pray, trusting in the saving grace you freely give, both now and forever.

Amen.

Sunday, October 6, 2024

“Enough” is Abundance

 Abundance. That is the word our stewardship committee chose for this upcoming year.  Our Gospel lesson of Jesus with the children is an example of the abundance of Jesus’ love and care. Jesus blesses and lifts up the children – those without any status – and welcomes them into his presence. There is room enough for all. God’s love is abundant. And we see that in the love of Jesus for “the least of these.”

 The word “Abundance” often evokes – at least for me – and image of a basket of fruits and vegetables and grains overflowing. I imagine a harvest of plenty to eat and plenty to share. I think of Norman Rockwell’s painting of sharing the enormous turkey around the full table as another image of abundance – abundance of relationship, abundance of food, a rich abundance of the provision of the earth. As a farmer’s daughter, I know that when there is a good harvest, there is an abundance of riches for all to share.

In our Old Testament reading – there was not a good harvest. And that is because there was no rain. Indeed, the prophet Elijah had prophesied that there would be no rain until the Lord said there would be rain. So why would a loving God Lord withhold rain from the people?

 A little background might be helpful here. King Ahab, the king of Israel, had forgotten about God. Instead of following in God’s ways, Ahab married Jezebel (that’s a name with a story for another time). It probably made political sense at the time - Jezebel was the daughter of another king in the region and political marriages is often how kings made peace with one another. But she was also a follower of Baal, the god to whom the Caananites believed provided fertility and water for their land. King Ahab was the King of Israel – but he was no longer worshipping the Lord God of Israel. Instead, he built an altar to Baal – and worshipped Baal – instead of the Lord.

The prophet Elijah, whose name means my God is the Lord, was sent on a mission to King Ahab to remind him that the Lord is the God of Israel. But King Ahab did not listen. And so, Elijah prophesizes the message of God: there would be no rain until he, Elijah, declares that there will be rain.

 Just as Elijah prophesized, there was no rain. I imagine that there was much prayer and sacrifice made to the Canaanites god Baal, but there was no rain. Perhaps King Ahab went looking for Elijah. But Elijah could not be found.  God told him to hide out in a wadi – which is a river bed – and that God would send ravens to feed him. This sounds even more miraculous since ravens are birds of prey who – unlike a dog or a dolphin are not normally a creature that care for people. Be that as it may, the point of the story is that God has cared for the prophet Elijah. But then the wadi dries up – it was a drought after all.

 God then sends Elijah to a widow’s house in Zarapheth. This is not in the land of Israel where there might be a sympathetic widow. Zarapheth is a little village by Sidon, right in the middle of the Phoenicians, the people who worship Baal and they are usually not friendly to the prophets of another god. 

 But this widow – a woman with no power and little agency – who has just about run out of food and is about to make the last meal for her son and herself to eat before they have nothing left – is the one who Elijah asks for a little bread. And, he has the audacity to ask that she feed him first. He promises there will be “enough.”

 Somehow, she believes him and shares with the prophet from the last of her rations. And, miraculously, there was enough. There was enough for him and for her and for her son. Day after day, the meal and the oil did not run out.  There was “Enough.” And that felt like abundance. 

 In our economy of consumption, it is easy to forget what is “enough.” We are constantly encouraged – by ads, by influencers, and even at times by the government to buy, buy, buy to keep our economy going. But having more “stuff” is not what makes for abundance.

 My mother told me a story once about a time in which, early in their marriage, money was tight. They were in love. Valentine’s day was coming up – but neither she nor my dad got paid until the 15th of the month. That was a day too late.  She had no money and she didn’t dare write a check – and in those days credit cards were not used for daily purchases. So… she invited my dad on a date to the drug store.  There they looked through the rows of Valentine cards, laughed at the funny ones, oohed at the beautiful ones – and “gave” each other a card to read…before putting it back on the shelf. They then went home, she made macaroni and cheese and then pulled out the crayons and they made each other a card. My mother told me that it was the best Valentine’s day they had ever had. Abundance is not about the stuff that you have but the love and care that you share.

We pray, “Give us TODAY our daily bread.”  But what does “daily bread” mean?  For the widow and her son, it meant having “Enough” to survive for the day. For my parents, it meant realizing that their daily bread of love and care and a simple meal was enough.  As Luther writes in his small catechism, “God gives daily bread without our prayer, even to all evil people, but we ask in this prayer that God cause us to recognize what our daily bread is and to receive it with thanksgiving.”

 God has given us enough. And when God measures out “enough” – we receive an abundance of blessings. Thanks be to God. Amen.

Faith-Lilac Way Lutheran + October 6, 2024 + Pastor Pam Stalheim Lane

Sunday, September 29, 2024

Ask the next Question

Jesus has some hard words for his disciples in today’s Gospel. Jesus

says, “If you hurt or even put a stumbling block before one of these

vulnerable ones – it would be better for you if millstone – which is a

huge rock - were tied around your neck and you be thrown into the sea.

IF your hand or foot or eye causes you to sin--- it would be better for

you to cut it off or tear out your eye.” Ouch.

This sounds a bit like Shariah law in which great punishments are given

for sin. A hand is chopped off if someone steals. A girl is whipped for

not covering her head. When I look at those punishments, I flinch. But is

Jesus, who teaches nonviolence and turning the other cheek suggest the

same thing? It’s certainly firey language.

Let’s take a look at the context. In included the last paragraph from the

Gospel from last week. It ended with Jesus teaching his disciples about

what it means to be great in the kingdom of God – which it is NOT the

same as what it means to be great or to be important in their culture or

ours. Instead, Jesus teaches them – and us - that “whoever wants to be

first must be LAST of all and SERVANT of all.” Then Jesus does

something that would be completely surprising to his disciples. He takes

a child –remember, children had no status whatsoever in that culture –

and puts the child in front of them.

In today’s Gospel, which is the next verse, Jesus is still holding that

child when he says these harsh words to his disciples. The words are

clearly hyperbole. Jesus does not want a bunch of one-eyed, one legged,

one armed followers. But Jesus does want the disciples to see that the

way their culture gives status NO LONGER APPLIES. In God’s

kingdom, the least, the most vulnerable, the poor, the outsider, the child,

is to be treated with honor and dignity. Those who are vulnerable should

be treated with greater care.

2

And perhaps Jesus uses such strong language so that the disciples will

listen and will pay attention. For even though they have been traveling

with Jesus and hearing his words and seeing him heal people who are

outsiders and challenge the exclusionary ways that the scribes and

pharisees interpret the law – it is still hard for them to see the radical

changes that Jesus is preaching and teaching and asking them to

embrace.

Change doesn’t come easily. John tells Jesus that they “saw someone

casting out demons in your name, and we tried to stop him, because he

was not following US.” John – and probably the other disciples –

somehow thought they were protecting Jesus and their own status as

disciples by trying to stop someone else from using Jesus’ name to heal.

But Jesus tells them that they are not in an exclusive club. All who do

good things should be encouraged – even if that good deed is as simple

as offering a glass of cold water. There is room for all in God’s

kingdom.

Change is hard – for them and for us. Sometimes the way that things

have “always been done” is not the way that God is leading us forward.

The question for the disciples then – and for us now – is whether the

traditions we love and culture that we are a part of, are supporting or are

they overshadowing and even subverting the message of Jesus. It’s a

question worth asking. But the disciples weren’t asking questions. They

assumed that they knew.

Asking questions. That is one thing that children can teach us. And

children can ask the darndest questions. Children want to know why and

how and what is that? They may ask: Is there a man in the moon? Where

is he? Does he have children? Why does the elephant have such a long

nose? Is 10,000 more than many? To a person with medical tape over

their eye, a child might ask: “Are you a pirate?” Children don’t filter

their questions. They just ask. After a friend of mine gave birth to her

second child – a 10 pound baby – her two year old daughter looked at

3

her mother’s post-partum body and said to her, “Are you sure there isn’t

another baby in your tummy?” Luckily, her mother laughed.

Children ask questions, lots of questions. But somewhere along the way

of growing up, adults often stop asking questions. Granted you now

may have an answer for the question of, “is there a man in the moon and

where is he? And why does the elephant has a long nose? And you can

just decide whether 10,000 is more than many. As an adult, I hope you

are wise enough not to ask a woman who has just given birth if she

might have another baby in her tummy somewhere. She probably won’t

laugh. Some questions are good to not ask if you are older than two or

three years old.

But generally, asking questions and being curious, IS a good thing. You

have probably had a teacher say, “There’s no such thing as a bad

question or the only stupid question is one that isn’t asked.” And yet, as

people get older, we generally become less comfortable asking questions

-- especially in a group – maybe out of fear of feeling foolish or maybe

because we think we are supposed to know the answer. Or maybe

because we are just out of practice.

Writer Theodore Sturgeon is a believer in asking questions. He writes,

"Ask the next question." Ask the next question, and the one that

follows that, and the one that follows that. It's the symbol of

everything humanity has ever created, and is the reason it has been

created. This guy is sitting in a cave and he says, "Why can't man

fly?" Well, that's the question. The answer may not help him, but

the question now has been asked. 

The next question is what? How? And so all through the ages,

people have been trying to find out the answer to that question.

We've found the answer, and we do fly. This is true of every

accomplishment, whether it's technology or literature, poetry,

4

political systems or anything else. That is it. Ask the next question.

And the one after that.” 1

The disciples didn’t ask questions. Instead, they focus on who is right –

and who is wrong, who deserves status – and who should be silenced or

stopped. But those are not the questions that Jesus is interested in.

These are not the things that Jesus wanted them or wants us to focus on.

These are the things that divide people– often they are petty things in the

big scheme of things -- into them and us and these are the things that still

divide people today. When we neglect to ask questions, to have curiosity

about our neighbor and the world around us and the person that we do

not know, our world gets smaller and we turn inward instead of outward.

We focus on serving ourselves and not on caring for the “other.” 2

Over the last two years I have taken some courses in spiritual listening –

listening for God and helping others listen for God too. And I have

learned that asking questions of another person – and really listening for

the response without thinking about what you are going to say in

response – is one of the most gracious and loving things that you can do.

Jesus challenges us to care for the most vulnerable, for the neighbor, for

the child, for the lonely and the “other.” So how can we do this? Perhaps

we can best care for others by first fostering more curiosity about our

community, our neighbor, the “other” and simply asking more

questions? And then ask God to help you listen deeply for the response

– before we act. For we don’t always know what kind of care or help is

needed. Following Jesus, we can ask for God’s help in learning to care

for the “other” and one another just as Jesus loves and cares for us. May

you have fun asking questions! And in doing so, may you receive Jesus’

blessing: “Have salt in yourselves, and be at peace with one another.”

Amen.

1 Asking the Next Question by Theodor Sturgeon

2 https://asermonforeverysunday.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/09/Amy-Redwine-Mark-9.pdf

5

Faith-Lilac Way Lutheran Church + Pastor Pamela Stalheim Lane +

September 29, 2024

Ask Another Question: Caring for the neighbor Sunday Sept 29, 2024

Ask the next Question

Jesus has some hard words for his disciples in today’s Gospel. Jesus

says, “If you hurt or even put a stumbling block before one of these

vulnerable ones – it would be better for you if millstone – which is a

huge rock - were tied around your neck and you be thrown into the sea.

IF your hand or foot or eye causes you to sin--- it would be better for

you to cut it off or tear out your eye.” Ouch.

This sounds a bit like Shariah law in which great punishments are given

for sin. A hand is chopped off if someone steals. A girl is whipped for

not covering her head. When I look at those punishments, I flinch. But is

Jesus, who teaches nonviolence and turning the other cheek suggest the

same thing? It’s certainly firey language.

Let’s take a look at the context. In included the last paragraph from the

Gospel from last week. It ended with Jesus teaching his disciples about

what it means to be great in the kingdom of God – which it is NOT the

same as what it means to be great or to be important in their culture or

ours. Instead, Jesus teaches them – and us - that “whoever wants to be

first must be LAST of all and SERVANT of all.” Then Jesus does

something that would be completely surprising to his disciples. He takes

a child –remember, children had no status whatsoever in that culture –

and puts the child in front of them.

In today’s Gospel, which is the next verse, Jesus is still holding that

child when he says these harsh words to his disciples. The words are

clearly hyperbole. Jesus does not want a bunch of one-eyed, one legged,

one armed followers. But Jesus does want the disciples to see that the

way their culture gives status NO LONGER APPLIES. In God’s

kingdom, the least, the most vulnerable, the poor, the outsider, the child,

is to be treated with honor and dignity. Those who are vulnerable should

be treated with greater care.

2

And perhaps Jesus uses such strong language so that the disciples will

listen and will pay attention. For even though they have been traveling

with Jesus and hearing his words and seeing him heal people who are

outsiders and challenge the exclusionary ways that the scribes and

pharisees interpret the law – it is still hard for them to see the radical

changes that Jesus is preaching and teaching and asking them to

embrace.

Change doesn’t come easily. John tells Jesus that they “saw someone

casting out demons in your name, and we tried to stop him, because he

was not following US.” John – and probably the other disciples –

somehow thought they were protecting Jesus and their own status as

disciples by trying to stop someone else from using Jesus’ name to heal.

But Jesus tells them that they are not in an exclusive club. All who do

good things should be encouraged – even if that good deed is as simple

as offering a glass of cold water. There is room for all in God’s

kingdom.

Change is hard – for them and for us. Sometimes the way that things

have “always been done” is not the way that God is leading us forward.

The question for the disciples then – and for us now – is whether the

traditions we love and culture that we are a part of, are supporting or are

they overshadowing and even subverting the message of Jesus. It’s a

question worth asking. But the disciples weren’t asking questions. They

assumed that they knew.

Asking questions. That is one thing that children can teach us. And

children can ask the darndest questions. Children want to know why and

how and what is that? They may ask: Is there a man in the moon? Where

is he? Does he have children? Why does the elephant have such a long

nose? Is 10,000 more than many? To a person with medical tape over

their eye, a child might ask: “Are you a pirate?” Children don’t filter

their questions. They just ask. After a friend of mine gave birth to her

second child – a 10 pound baby – her two year old daughter looked at

3

her mother’s post-partum body and said to her, “Are you sure there isn’t

another baby in your tummy?” Luckily, her mother laughed.

Children ask questions, lots of questions. But somewhere along the way

of growing up, adults often stop asking questions. Granted you now

may have an answer for the question of, “is there a man in the moon and

where is he? And why does the elephant has a long nose? And you can

just decide whether 10,000 is more than many. As an adult, I hope you

are wise enough not to ask a woman who has just given birth if she

might have another baby in her tummy somewhere. She probably won’t

laugh. Some questions are good to not ask if you are older than two or

three years old.

But generally, asking questions and being curious, IS a good thing. You

have probably had a teacher say, “There’s no such thing as a bad

question or the only stupid question is one that isn’t asked.” And yet, as

people get older, we generally become less comfortable asking questions

-- especially in a group – maybe out of fear of feeling foolish or maybe

because we think we are supposed to know the answer. Or maybe

because we are just out of practice.

Writer Theodore Sturgeon is a believer in asking questions. He writes,

"Ask the next question." Ask the next question, and the one that

follows that, and the one that follows that. It's the symbol of

everything humanity has ever created, and is the reason it has been

created. This guy is sitting in a cave and he says, "Why can't man

fly?" Well, that's the question. The answer may not help him, but

the question now has been asked. 

The next question is what? How? And so all through the ages,

people have been trying to find out the answer to that question.

We've found the answer, and we do fly. This is true of every

accomplishment, whether it's technology or literature, poetry,

4

political systems or anything else. That is it. Ask the next question.

And the one after that.” 1

The disciples didn’t ask questions. Instead, they focus on who is right –

and who is wrong, who deserves status – and who should be silenced or

stopped. But those are not the questions that Jesus is interested in.

These are not the things that Jesus wanted them or wants us to focus on.

These are the things that divide people– often they are petty things in the

big scheme of things -- into them and us and these are the things that still

divide people today. When we neglect to ask questions, to have curiosity

about our neighbor and the world around us and the person that we do

not know, our world gets smaller and we turn inward instead of outward.

We focus on serving ourselves and not on caring for the “other.” 2

Over the last two years I have taken some courses in spiritual listening –

listening for God and helping others listen for God too. And I have

learned that asking questions of another person – and really listening for

the response without thinking about what you are going to say in

response – is one of the most gracious and loving things that you can do.

Jesus challenges us to care for the most vulnerable, for the neighbor, for

the child, for the lonely and the “other.” So how can we do this? Perhaps

we can best care for others by first fostering more curiosity about our

community, our neighbor, the “other” and simply asking more

questions? And then ask God to help you listen deeply for the response

– before we act. For we don’t always know what kind of care or help is

needed. Following Jesus, we can ask for God’s help in learning to care

for the “other” and one another just as Jesus loves and cares for us. May

you have fun asking questions! And in doing so, may you receive Jesus’

blessing: “Have salt in yourselves, and be at peace with one another.”

Amen.

1 Asking the Next Question by Theodor Sturgeon

2 https://asermonforeverysunday.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/09/Amy-Redwine-Mark-9.pdf

5

Faith-Lilac Way Lutheran Church + Pastor Pamela Stalheim Lane +

September 29, 2024

Sunday, September 22, 2024

The disciples were riding high. They had witnessed Jesus heal the sick, the blind and the lamb. They had seen him cast out demons and feed thousands of people – twice. They had seen him walk on water. Some of them witnessed the transfiguration in which Moses and Elijah had met Jesus on the mountain top. They were riding the escalator of life up, up , up, because they were the disciples of the Messiah. And so…as part of Jesus’ inner circle – weren’t they bound for greatness too?

 If you have ever travelled with a group, there can be times in which there is friction. I imagine that might have been what was going on with the disciples. They had left their homes and family and now were anticipating coming home to glory… perhaps they were thinking about cabinet positions. If Jesus was king – who would be his chief of staff? The disciples had dreams of greatness. They were on the escalator going up and they imagined Jesus going before them, conquering the world and restoring the kingdom to Israel.

 What they didn’t notice was that Jesus was on the escalator too – but he was going down.

 Jesus has already told them that he must suffer and die and then rise again. At that time, Peter tried to dissuade Jesus – only to be called Satan and be put in his place – behind Jesus. So maybe the disciples were in denial. Or maybe they were just stuck in their understanding of their culture. From our vantage point, the disciples look foolish. Haven’t they been listening? 

 Of course, we have the advantage of living 2000 plus years after the resurrection of Jesus – and being told at the beginning of Mark’s Gospel that this is “The Beginning of the Good News of Jesus, the Son of God.”  We know the end of the story – the disciples don’t. So maybe we should have a little compassion for them. But… really… didn’t they hear anything Jesus said?

They might not have been truly listening but it turns out that Jesus has been listening to them. And so, he asks the disciples what they were talking about. At least the disciples were wise enough to know that arguing about who was the greatest of them was the opposite of what Jesus has been teaching them. So they were silent.  They were like kids caught with their hand in the cookie jar. Busted.

 But Jesus doesn’t scold them. Instead, he tells them, for the second time, that he must suffer and die and then will rise again in three days.

 Their response? Again, silence. Perhaps they were too embarrassed to say anything. Maybe they were afraid that if they said something – they would say the wrong thing – like Peter did. Maybe they worried that if they asked a question, they would look foolish. Maybe they didn’t know what to ask.

 But because they didn’t ask, Jesus went on to explain, ‘Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all.’ They still didn’t get it. In their defense – how could they? Jesus was turning everything that they knew – upside down. They remained silent.

 So… Jesus gives them an object lesson – the first children’s sermon – by literally bring a child into their midst.

 We might think that was sweet. But in that time and culture, children had NO status.  They were viewed more as a liability – another mouth to feed -- than as the hope for the future. Their culture – not unlike ours – valued power, privilege and might. They had been taught that the Jewish Messiah would be like King David – and rule their nation – under God by the power of the sword.

 But Jesus is not that kind of king. Jesus knows that violence begets violence. Taking power away from one group and giving it to another usually just creates a new power structure – which is itself open to a new grab for power – like the disciples were doing on the road. Certainly there are some power structures that are better for the ordinary person. As Winston Churchill once said, “Many forms of Government have been tried, and will be tried in this world of sin and woe. No one pretends that democracy is perfect or all-wise. Indeed, it has been said that democracy is the worst form of Government…. except for all those other forms that have been tried” 1

 Jesus’ mission is not to create a new government. Jesus is introducing a new way of life.  Jesus is not inviting his disciples to fight their way to be king of the mountain by violence, force, and a power grab for power and privilege. Instead, Jesus invites his disciples and followers then and now to take the downward escalator to living a life of service, love and care for the other. These are the marks of God’s kingdom.

 It was hard for the disciples to step outside of their own culture – and see the new way that Jesus is teaching.  And it is still hard for us today – even though we live AFTER the resurrection.  

Jesus said to his disciples – and us -  “Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all.”When Jesus says it, it sounds simple and obvious. Serve the neighbor.

 But, if you listen to the news, the hurts and the challenges around the world can start to sound overwhelming.  Maybe you end up throwing up your hands and saying, “What can we do? We are just a little church. What can I do? I’m just one person.”

 But, maybe the act of service is not far away or distant or something that is even hard to do. Maybe it is not just for saints like Mother Theresa but something that ordinary people like you and I can do in our ordinary lives.   

As a response to Jesus’ call to become a servant of all,

Pastor Steve Garnaas-Holmes writes:

Not subservient, not inferior to others,
but helpful, in support, in service.
You're not indentured or obligated;
you serve in love that is yours to give.
Your task today is to serve others—
not necessarily to please them,
not to save them or “fix” them,
but to offer grace, to bless them,
to set before them wholeness of life,
to open doors that set them free,
to speak a word that heals 
and does not dishonor them.
Your task today is not to use or conquer others,
but to offer what love or joy you can
in service to their new life.Today, for everyone you meet,
God is the chef of grace
and you are their server.2

And this is something that we can do – offer grace, bless those you meet, speak a word that heals and does not dishonor the other, and welcome the other as if they were Jesus. That is what service is all about. We can do this. One day at a time. One person at a time. With God’s help. Amen.

 1Winston Churchil, Nov 11, 1947
2Steve Garnaas-Holmes Unfolding Light www.unfoldinglight.net

 Faith-Lilac Way Lutheran + September 22 + Pastor Pam Stalheim Lane

Sunday, September 15, 2024

“Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.” It’s a lie. I know that now. But when I first encountered this defiant phrase as a child, I thought that it was brilliant – as if I could somehow protect myself from hurtful words just by declaring myself immune.

 But words can hurt – more than sticks and stones. AND, words can also help and heal and make oneself – and the other person - whole. As James said, words can bless and words can curse.  Words matter.

James has a special warning for teachers. I’ll confess that in the past, when this reading came up during Sunday school teacher recruitment time, I did not highlight this text. But James wants teachers – especially teachers of faith – and that refers to pastors, and parents and grandparents and all who teach by what they say and by what they do.  And that, frankly, is all of us - because others – especially children – are listening. 

Years ago when I worked at another church, I heard an angry commotion and a voice spewing out an incredible string of obscenities, the like of which I had never heard before. When I opened the door, there was a little girl, about three years old, kicking and screaming obscenities while a patient preschool teacher was standing between her and the other children. Later, the preschool teacher said to me with a sad sigh, “these are the only words that this little girl knows to express herself when she is angry. We are working on teaching her other words and ways of communicating.”

Children repeat what they hear. And so do we. The language and the music that you listen to; the shows that you watch; the podcasts that you hear don’t just come in one ear and go out the other.  They influence you – maybe not directly – but sometimes on your tongue or in your heart. This happens without our even realizing it.

The tongue is a small part of our body. But it is powerful.  As James points out, a bridle can control a horse, a small rudder directs a ship, with one small match we can light a raging fire. We can control all of these things. But can we control our tongues? 

Think for a minute: What words do you speak – to a little baby? We coo and oo. But what words do you speak when you are driving during rush hour? When speaking with friends? When you speak on social media? What words do you speak to yourself after you have said or done something that you wish you could “take back”?

Sometimes the inner words that we speak are the harshest of all. If you are at all like me, I can beat myself up with a no-holds barred tongue lashing. But just as a bridle that doesn’t fit well in a horse will cause the horse to act up – so too, if the words of our heart, if our inner dialogue is not kind, it will come out sideways.

James acknowledges that everyone makes mistakes -- there is grace here. The little girl with a foul vocabulary was blessed to be enrolled in a preschool with a loving, patient, Christian teacher who took the time to teach this little girl another way. And I’ve been learning, over the years, that it is not good for my heart or my life or those around me to withhold grace and forgiveness from others – or from myself. How about you?

Can you give grace to others for the words that were said to you – when someone else wasn’t having their best day or were not his or her best self? Can you forgive a loved one for words that were left unsaid? Words like “I love you. I forgive you. I’m sorry.” These little words are not hard to pronounce. But sometimes they are hard to say. Maybe we need to practice them more.

I know that my grandmother wished that she had. My paternal grandparents were very kind to me and my sisters. We always went to their house after school while my mother finished her work. But they fought terribly – in Norwegian – with one another so I didn’t know what they were saying. But I heard the tone and I am kind of glad that I didn’t know the words. After her husband died, she asked my mother, “Do you think he knew that I loved him?”

Of course, my mother assured her that he did. But the point is – why not say the words yourself – while you can? After all… what did God make your mouth for? To curse or to bless?

As James reminds us – “All of us make many mistakes”. We aren’t always our best selves. We all say things that we regret.  So the next question is: Can you give grace to yourself? Those words of forgiveness need to be received as well as spoken.

Words matter. For words are the way we communicate with one another. But, like the three year old girl, how can anyone proclaim blessings and not curses – if they/ we have not been taught? So… despite the warning from James for teachers, we need teachers, we need to teach one another.

There is an ancient Jewish saying, “May you be covered in the dust of your rabbi.”1 This is what Jesus was inviting his disciples to do – to follow him so closely on the dusty roads that he traveled that they may learn from him. He invites them to not only speak the words that Jesus speaks and act the way that Jesus acts but to become like Jesus.

Jesus’ invitation to the disciples – and us -- sounds challenging – to deny themselves and to take up their cross - and it is – but it is also a promise of life. For taking up your cross does not mean putting up with abuse or an irritating person or assuming you have to take on hardship or suffering because it is “your cross to bear.” Instead, taking up your cross means surrendering your will to Christ’s will.  But this is not a harsh enlistment in a dictator’s army.  Instead, this means entrusting all that you love – your family, your friends, your ambitions, your dreams, your talents and your future – to Jesus. Asking Jesus to direct your words and your life. After all – what or who wouldn’t you trust to Jesus? 

Trusting Jesus means living in the way and walking in the way of Jesus and speaking with one another as Jesus speaks. And this is life- GIVING.   It is not a requirement. But as Jesus said to the disciples, “What will it profit them to gain the whole world and forfeit their life?”

Jesus asks you: Who do YOU say that I am? And then Jesus invites you, “Come and follow Me” and learn. The roads outside our church and outside your home are not so dusty – unless they happen to be doing road construction. But the invitation to follow is for YOU.   And the gift that Jesus gives is life.  

We call the way that we practice following Jesus, “faith practices.” For just as my arms and legs don’t get any stronger by looking at the weights and exercise equipment, we don’t get stronger in our faith by just setting a Bible on a coffee table. So let’s practice speaking the words of Jesus and following in the way of Jesus.  Here are a few ideas:

·        Worship God – as you are doing right now.

·        Study the word of God together. You can do this on your own – and there are many good ways to do this – but I say “together” because as a Christian community we can help one another to stay true to God’s word when we study together. We have some new opportunity to do this on Tuesday nights online and Wednesday mornings here.  

·        Sing – and let the songs that you sing be filled with words that uplift and don’t tear down. May the music in your heart, the song that runs through your head in the middle of the day – be a song that uplifts and draws you closer to the way of Jesus. 

·        Pray. It can be the Lord’s prayer or your own – but prayer is an excellent building block practice for growing in faith – even if it feels like nothing is happening. 

·        Be thoughtful about your words – because words matter. The Psalmist said it well in Psalm 19: “Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable to you, O LORD, my rock and my redeemer.” Amen – it is so. And let the church say Amen.

1https://ourrabbijesus.com/covered-in-the-dust-of-your-rabbi-an-urban-legend/

Sunday, September 8, 2024

My family just got back from a little R&R up north by Lake Vermillion. It was incredibly peaceful and gave us a chance to rest – some went fishing, others went for walks with the dog, others just took lots of naps. It was lovely. So I can appreciate Jesus wanting to escape the incessant trick questions of the scribes and Pharisees. He had spent time trying to open their hearts and minds to see the kingdom of God in their midst. But when they refused, he too went “up North” to a town called Tyre in the gentile – non-Jewish-- part of the country. No one would look for a rabbi there, right?

 Except a bold and loving mother who would do anything to save her demon-possessed dying daughter.  So, once she heard that Jesus the miracle worker was there – because after all, people talk – she defied all the rules, found Jesus, bowed down at his feet and begged him to heal her daughter.

 This next part of the Gospel is – I’ll confess – is hard to hear. Mark has already told us that Jesus is tired and that he doesn’t want to see anybody. For unlike the Gospel of John which has Jesus practically floating about the earth, in Mark, Jesus is much more human. In doing a little research, I found that the Syrophoenician gentiles and Hebrew Jewish people were arch enemies – the prophet Ezekiel rails against the Syrophoenicians for three whole chapters. So, some theologians point out that the two tribes probably had much worse names for each other. Others claim that the word Jesus said was “puppy” rather than “dog.” But does that make it any better? Jesus may have been saying what other people in his tribe would say. But I have higher standards for Jesus.

 To be fair, I think the point that Jesus is trying to make is that he was sent to the Jewish people, “the children” of God. That was his mission.  Yet… still… I don’t like to hear Jesus calling this woman a dog or any other slur.  It doesn’t sound like the Jesus I know.

 The gentile Syrophoenician woman had probably heard that slur before – but she may also have heard the story of the feeding of the 5,000 – with the 12 baskets of bread left over. 12 baskets of leftovers – one for each of the Hebrew tribes. She was not asking to be one of the 5,000 children. They had already been fed. All she was asking for was a crumb for her daughter. Just a crumb of Jesus’ healing power. That would be enough.

 Jesus’ response is awkwardly translated. He basically says, “Because of this Word, go, your daughter is healed.”

 I think Jesus recognized the Word of God, the Word of love in the mouth of a person who no one would expect to speak God’s Word – a Syrophoenician gentile woman. And that Word seems to have opened up Jesus’ ministry to all people.  

Because Jesus then travelled to Galilee by way of Sidon. That is like saying, that you are going to Minnehaha Falls by way of Duluth. Instead of going and preaching amongst his own people, Jesus goes deep into gentile territory.

 And, on the way, a group of people – like the Syrophoenician woman --begged Jesus to heal a man who was not only deaf but also had a speech impediment. While the little girl was healed with just a word from Jesus, this was a very physical healing – Jesus put his fingers in his ears, spat, touched his tongue – and then declared: “Ephphatha” – be opened. And the man’s ears were opened.

 “Ephphatha” – Be opened. Jesus’ ministry was opened up. He went on to heal and teach and then feed 4,000 people in the land of the Decapolis – that is  - in 10 Greek cities.  Jesus was fulfilling the prophecies of the scriptures that the lame would walk, the blind would see and the deaf would hear – but he had expanded his ministry to include not just the Hebrew children but also all of God’s people.

 “Ephphatha” – Be opened. Jesus had been trying to open up the minds and hearts of the Pharisees and Scribes. But they were blind to his ministry. Jesus was also trying to open the hearts and minds of his disciples and followers so that they could hear the Word of God in a new way.

 When I think about Jesus’ healing stories – I both love them and I’m challenged by them because – while I love that they illustrate that Jesus was bringing God’s kingdom into the world for all people…I sometimes wonder what they teach us today?

 In both stories, people beg Jesus to heal someone else. So… one lesson might be to dare to ask Jesus for health and healing.  For Jesus invites us to pray, to bring to God both our needs and the needs of the neighbor.

 After all, all of the prayers to Jesus in today’s Gospel were prayers for the sake of someone else. These were the prayers of the people.

 A pastor colleague of mine was diagnosed with leukemia and needed to undergo a blood marrow transplant. A Caring Bridge site was begun and the call went out for prayers. So…his congregation prayed. His family prayed. His colleagues prayed. His friends prayed. People who didn’t even really know him prayed. It was a long slow process – but earlier this summer, Karl declared – on Caring Bridge -- that he was celebrating his two year old birthday after receiving his new blood. He wasn’t looking forward to all his immunization shots but he decided that since he was turning two, he would throw a two year old tantrum for no reason. And take a nap in the middle of the day. I smiled when I read the cheeky declaration of the 54year old with two year old blood.  Prayers were answered. Alleluia!

 But what if the eyes of your loved one don’t get opened?  What if the fully deserving, innocent beloved person doesn’t get healed?

 We were barely done celebrating Karl’s two year old tantrum when– just a couple of weeks later – I read on Caring Bridge that he had contracted meningitis and was very, very sick. Again, the call went out for prayers.  And so, of course, again we prayed. His congregation prayed. His family prayed. His colleagues prayed. His friends prayed. Strangers prayed. But this time, the prayers weren’t answered in the way that we had hoped. Karl died.

 At his funeral, I had expected to hear about how amazing Karl was. But instead, Karl had instructed his friend, the pastor, to tell the story of Jesus life, death and resurrection. Karl wanted to use this time to open others up to the love of Christ that he knew. That had been his prayer as we had all been praying for him. For during this time of struggle and pain, clearly Karl had grown even closer to Christ. He had opened his heart and his life to the love of God.

 So now the question is for you: how do you/ how do we need to “Be Opened” -  “Ephathatha” to hear and to see what God is doing in our world and in our community? And in our lives?

 Perhaps our prayer could be to open the eyes of our hearts to see God at work in our world. Or perhaps our prayer could be to open the ears of our hearts to hear God’s voice. And perhaps our prayer could also be to open our hearts, our minds, our lives to see and hear the needs and cares, the hopes and the dreams of our neighbor. After we listen – and ask God to open us up – then perhaps we could ask God  to help us take the next step.

 Thanks be to God who goes in front of us, beside us and behind us. Amen.

September 8,, 2024 + Faith-Lilac Way Lutheran + Pastor Pam Stalheim Lane

Sunday, September 1, 2024

Sermon:  Cleanliness and Godliness  Karen Peterson

As I was preparing this sermon, it occurred to me that this Gospel passage sounds different to a post-pandemic audience.  So, I want to begin with a pandemic story. 

It was just a couple of weeks before Easter when the pandemic hit the U.S. and all the churches were forced to close.  There was no Palm Sunday service, no Maundy Thursday or Good Friday services, and no Easter Services in our ELCA church in Dodge Center.  For me, that was absolutely unacceptable, and I told my family that, church or no church, we were going to worship and celebrate Easter, somehow, because there is no other day in the church year that matters more or is more important and worthy of wholehearted celebration.  Everywhere I looked, there were signs and advertisements about the importance of washing our hands, frequently.  So I decided we would give out liquid hand soap to as many people in our community as we could manage.  We went to all the dollar stores in the area, and to my surprise, when I explained what we intended to do, most stores let me buy every bottle they had, even taking all they had in the back of the store, besides what was in the aisles.  (That only amounted to a few dozen bottles.) Then I did some research about the origin of the phrase, “Cleanliness is next to Godliness” and typed up a one-page letter encouraging people to remember who they are (the hands and feet and faces of Christ in the world), and whose they are, (children of God redeemed and cleansed by Christ) and to find ways to worship, celebrate and to be the church in spite of the pandemic, but to do it safely.   We delivered these gifts in small brown paper bags that we set on people’s doorsteps, then rang their doorbells and ran across the street to watch and shout, “Happy Easter!  He is risen!  Alleluia!”  as people opened their doors to find our Easter gifts. 

It turns out that the phrase, “Cleanliness is next to Godliness” was coined by John Wesley, founder of the Methodist branch of Christianity, and first used it in a sermon in 1778.  The phrase was taken up by soap companies to promote their products, while church and social reformers used it to promote bodily cleanliness and encourage people to bathe frequently.  The phrase is not found in the Bible, however, scriptural passages such as this one certainly suggest such an idea, and may have been cited to support it.   

As always, background context is important.  IN addition to the 10 Commandments and all the laws regarding sacrifices made for various sins, the Torah, or Jewish law included many laws regarding clean-ness and unclean-ness as well as ritual purity or ritual clean-ness, covering not only what could and could not be eaten and how food had to be prepared, but also the proper ways to rid one’s self of ritual unclean-ness and return to a state of ritual purity, should the need arise.   And the need arose rather frequently.  Not only did committing sins render a person unclean, but so did disease of any kind, a woman’s monthly cycle and anything involving marital relations or childbirth—even visiting the home of anyone who wasn’t Jewish, or sharing a meal with a non-jew.

So, as I mentioned in a recent sermon, the Pharisees decided that, in order to keep the people in a state of purity and cleanliness, it would be wise and beneficial to “build a fence around the Torah,” which they did my setting up more social and ritualistic rules that would require the Jewish people to  focus on and maintain this state of clean-ness or purity.  It seems that washing your hands before you eat a meal was one of these fence posts that had been set up to protect the people and the covenant.  There was so much focus on clean-ness and purity, that to be unclean or impure was to be, not only ritually unacceptable and unfit to enter the temple, but to be socially outcast, unfit to associate with, unless or until one did whatever was required to become clean and pure once again.

Although some of the purity laws in the Torah, such as those regarding disease or touching the dead to prepare them for burial, were obviously aimed at maintaining bodily cleanliness and health, most were aimed at ritual cleanliness, aimed at maintaining a person’s spiritual purity, taking care of the heart and the soul so as to be fit for worship and temple rituals and to be acceptable in the eyes or presence of God.  But many of the laws that composed the fence the Pharisees built around the Torah were not.

That is the argument that Jesus is making here.  Jesus is arguing that God desires a clean and righteous spirit and a pure heart, undefiled by selfishness and sin, unstained by injustice, prejudice and malice.  What’s more, Jesus is pointing out that the very fact that they are concerned more about the condition of the body than the condition of the soul, more concerned about the dust that might enter the body from unclean hands than they are about the filth that pours out from the body of a person whose heart and soul are sick and  polluted with hatred and hedonistic desires, is clear evidence that the Pharisees have lost sight of the spirit of the laws of the Torah.  Their very purpose was to maintain the health and well-being of the whole person, to preserve the health and innocence of each Jewish person’s mind, body and soul by preventing one sick person from infecting another, and another.  The fence that is supposed to protect the Torah and the people is actually separating the people from each other and from God, leaving them sick in spirit, in need of a savior that can bring them back into relationship with God, who is their source of life and strength and hope and love and meaning and purpose. 

When I look at the world today, I see symptoms of the same infectious condition.  We worry a lot about what we put into our bodies, and what we put on our bodies.  We practically obsess about our bodies—our strength and size and shape, our strength and muscle tone, our complexion, our skin color and hair color…  We spend billions (literally 45.58 billion dollars last year) on soap, not to mention the billions more we spend on other hygiene products and beauty products and clothing.  Last year Americans spent more than $50 Billion on weight loss drugs.  And we are increasingly consumed by the idea that what we eat should be organically grown and contain all natural ingredients, but not fat or sugar, which by the way are totally natural ingredients, even though much of what we actually eat consists largely of chemicals and preservatives.  We are captivated by those words, natural and organic, yet even organic farmers use chemicals, and natural, as my wise college chemistry professor liked to remind me, does not necessarily mean safe.  He taught me this lesson by drawing the chemical structure of aspartame, an artificial sweetener composed of two amino acids linked together, and beside it the structure of another perfectly natural chemical composed of two amino acids linked together in the same way, and then pointing out that the latter was the deadly toxin in snake venom.  My biology professor frequently reminded me that natural and edible don’t necessarily mean delicious or nutritious, only that it won’t kill you if you are desperate and have nothing else to eat.  How’s that for food for thought about our obsession with natural ingredients, which is just a gimmick to get us to pay more for essentially the same product.  And because we are so worried about nutrition and so in love with McDonald’s and processed instant foods, we spend another $50 billion plus on vitamins and supplements, most of which goes right through us into the sewer, just like Jesus said it does.

We obsess about the health of our bodies and our minds and torture ourselves with fad diets and exercises and do sudoku puzzles and crosswords and play games hoping to ward off Alzheimer’s disease and memory loss, stress about eating healthy and exercising and trying to look good, spend tons of money we don’t have trying to look our best in the newest fashions with the trendiest hairstyles, and we fret and worry about viruses and bacteria and dirt in our homes and on surfaces, so we clean and clean and clean.  And at the end of the day, we are exhausted and crawl into bed, only to find we can’t sleep because we are too stressed out. 

When it comes to cleanliness and purity, we are no better today than the Jews were in Jesus’s day.  If anything, we are probably worse.  We keep everything so clean that our immune systems either don’t work, or are so desperate for something to do that they start attacking our own healthy tissues, giving us autoimmune diseases.  My sister was so worried about her kids being exposed to germs that she literally washed everything, even her kids toys and pacifiers, on the sanitize setting in the dishwasher, adding bleach, every night.  Her kids all have asthma and tons of allergies, and get sick all the time.   We need to be exposed to infectious organisms in order for out immune systems to learn how to recognize them and defends our bodies against them.  We require symbiotic gut bacteria to be healthy.   Humans were not meant to be so clean, inside or out.  Our bodies were meant to be habitats for other organisms, just like other animals are.  It sounds gross, I know, but it’s true.

We obsess about our bodies, but most Americans ignore their spiritual well-being.  What do we do to stay spiritually healthy and connected to God?  How do we exercise and train our spirits?  How do we give our spirits the nourishment, the exercise and the rest they need?  Is one hour of church every week adequate?  How often do you feed your spirit?  What do you feed it?  How do you strengthen it?   Where do you find rest for your weary soul?  You listen to your body?  Do you listen to your conscience?   

The truth is, Jesus was right.  God doesn’t just care about our bodies.  But the Pharisees were right too.  Because God doesn’t just care about our spirits.  God cares about our whole being, body, mind and spirit or soul, if you prefer.  Our spirits live within our bodies—they are connected and interdependent, and the same is true of our minds.  That’s how we were created.  We can’t neglect any part of our being and still be healthy.  Jesus knew that better than anybody.  Jesus wasn’t saying that the body didn’t matter, or even that the spirit mattered more than the body nor the mind, which they believed at the time, was located in the heart—hence the heart being responsible for the unclean and unloving words and actions coming from an impure heart.  This wasn’t really an argument about who was right and who was wrong—it was a question of balance.  To live well—to have that abundant life that Jesus came to offer us, requires maintaining a balance between mind, body and spirit.  Jesus didn’t say that people shouldn’t wash their hands before they eat.  He was just pointing out the need to strike a balance, to stop neglecting the spiritual needs of people, because a sick or wounded spirit is harder to heal than a broken bone or a skin rash, and a mean spirit can do immeasurable harm that only Jesus can mend.

May we all take time to tend to our spiritual needs as well as physical needs.  Be sure you always get your recommended daily doses of vitamins J (Jesus) P (Prayer) and S (Scripture).  

Sunday, August 11, 2024

Sermon:  I will give you rest

When I was a little girl of about 8, my grandmother gave me my first very own Bible.  It was a King James version, and it had a zippered cover attached with a colorful painting of Jesus welcoming the little children.  On the inside covers it had the 23rd Psalm, the Lord’s Prayer, The Ten Commandments and the Beatitudes.  It included several color plates of images of Biblical scenes, and all the words spoken by Jesus were printed in red ink.   I still have that Bible.  The first thing I did when she gave it to me was go to my room and read everything in red ink.  I was shocked and horrified at how little of the Bible, which I understood to be a book all about Jesus, was actually things Jesus said.  I decided to memorize the stuff on the inside covers, assuming it must be really important to be printed specially there so you didn’t have to search for it.  And there were some verses that Jesus spoke that I found interesting, or beautiful or otherwise compelling that I decided to memorize as well.  The last paragraph of today’s Gospel was one of them.

Matthew 11:28-30 has always been one of my favorite gospel passages as long as I can remember.  It captured my imagination and my heart, even as a child.  Maybe it’s because I’ve had trouble sleeping all my life.  Or maybe it’s because it always reminded me of Psalm 23, and laying in the cool grass watching the clouds shift in the sky as they passed overhead.  One of my favorite things to do was to find shapes in the clouds.  Maybe it’s because I walked almost a mile to school back in the days before book bags and lockers, carrying an armload of books and a sack lunch the whole way, rain or shine, sleet or snow or sunny and hot.  Or maybe it just caught my attention because of the way the word yoke was spelled, and I wondered why and how it was different from an egg yolk, and why I would want one “upon me.”  I really don’t know what it was.  All I know is that it was an invitation I always wanted to accept.  It just sounded so good, so relaxing and comfortable, pleasant and satisfying, like an ice cream cone or fudgesicle, or as refreshing as run through the sprinkler on a hot summer day, and it was an invitation from Jesus, so it had to be something really wonderful. 

Now that I’m all grown up and graduated from seminary, I thought that sharing the way this scripture has always spoken to me and called to me, and the new meaning it now holds for me, would be a fitting end to my internship, and would be a fitting bridge between this end and the new beginning God has planned for me in the (I hope) near future.

In the verses leading up to the invitation to come and rest, Jesus is revealing his identity in clear terms.  He is the promised Davidic King, the Son of God, the heir of all that is God’s, and the only one who “knows” the Father and the Father’s will, as well as the only one capable of revealing God to others.  When Jesus says “I will give you rest, he is echoing the words of God spoken to Moses in our Old Testament lesson from Exodus: “My presence will go with you, and I will give you rest.”  It also calls to mind, however subtly (at least for me) Psalm 23, in which God, the Good Shepherd, makes his sheep lie down and rest in green pastures.

“Come to me, all you who are weary and carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest,” is an invitation, but not just to sit down and take a load off your feet.  It’s an invitation to salvation.  Rest, in the Old Testament, is frequently a metaphor for salvation, the reward granted by God to those who were obedient, often or especially the final reward for a good and faithful servant.  According to M. Eugene Boring, the heavy burdens that Jesus is referring to are the burdens of the human additions to the Laws of God and Moses set out by the Pharisees and scribes that Matthew and his community regarded as cumbersome religious burdens that had become barriers to true relationship with God.[i]  While there may be truth to this, I object to limiting heavy burdens to religious duties.  There are many other “burdens” that people bear that can function as barriers between people and God: chronic pain and disease, sin and the shame and guilt that come from it, grief, depression and mental illness, fear and worry, as well as isolation, marginalization and loss of community, all of which can be caused by any combination of the things in this list.  Any of these, if they are severe enough, or last long enough, can make us feel forgotten, forsaken, unheard and unloved, even by God, especially if those with religious authority insist that these “burdens” are evidence God’s judgment or curse for our sinfulness or failure to be perfectly obedient.  So, when Jesus says he will give rest to those struggling under the weight of heavy burdens, I don’t see any need to limit burdens to any particular type or form.  Thus, rest may be healing, forgiveness or restoration to relationship. It may be characterized by joy, freedom from sorrow or worry or from any form of strife.  Rest is offered as a gift from Christ to us, pure and simple.  There are no strings attached.  It is an all-encompassing rest for the mind, body and soul. 

The invitation is not only to rest in Jesus, but to learn from Jesus.  Learning is an act of discipleship, and Jesus never promised that discipleship would be easy or carefree.  Discipleship is obedience and servanthood.  It involves a yoke—a collar worn around the neck with ropes, like that used to steer oxen when tilling a field for planting.  Discipleship is following wherever Jesus leads us, imitating him, learning to think and behave like Jesus.  Of course, we know from experience that discipleship is challenging and difficult, and that we all frequently fail to follow the full distance.  Yet Jesus tells us that his yoke is easy and his burden is light.  Why?  How can that be true?   Because discipleship is a journey we do not make alone.  Jesus is always ahead of us, leading us, and offering us grace and salvation, and rest and forgiveness, as often as we need it along the way.  Jesus is patient and understanding.  Jesus lets us walk at our own pace, and rest as often as needed along the way.  There is no whip, no driving us forward against our will in spite of pain or exhaustion.

As for the yoke—well, it’s obviously not a y-o-l-k, like an egg yolk.  The yoke is just a metaphor, unless you’re a pastor, or a bishop.  The stole that a pastor receives at his or her ordination is a symbolic yoke of Christ.  It is a reminder that we follow Jesus, even as we shepherd a congregation or flock, leading them in worship, teaching them and supporting them and guiding them in their life of faith, accompanying them in their journey of discipleship, just as Christ accompanies us all.  It reminds us that we are to lead our flocks according to Christ’s will, and to lovingly support and care for them just as The Good Shepherd does.  Similarly, the collar symbolizes our obedience to the Triune God, and our priestly or pastoral authority.

Although only pastors wear the yoke (stole) and clerical collar, we are not the only sheep called to ministry, or to the priesthood.  All believers are called to what Martin Luther called the Priesthood of All Believers.  Together, we are all called to share our faith and the story of Jesus with all those we meet, pointing to his presence and his activity in this world, wherever we see evidence of it.  While our salvation is not dependent on our obedience and discipleship, it is the appropriate and desired response of faithful obedience in gratitude for the rest and salvation we receive from Jesus, who lovingly sacrificed himself for us.  Rest is always a free gift we receive without ever having to earn it, or pay for it.  Discipleship is a free will offering we can make as a way of showing our love and gratitude, and the best way to live and worship God on a daily basis.

Now, as I said, I have always found these verses incredibly inviting and inspirational.  So much so, that the first faith song I ever wrote, was inspired by and based on my understanding of and interpretation of this passage.  This one was written with the intention of being a congregational hymn.  As a parting gift to you, in gratitude for all of the love, patience and support you have shown me, I am going to teach it to you, so that you can sing it any time you wish, and hopefully come to love this scripture passage as much as I do.  

[i] Boring. The New Interpreter’s Bible. 8. Matthew. Nachdr. Nashville: Abingdon Press, 2007.

P

Sunday, August 4, 2024

Sermon:               Living a Resurrection Life

                Ezekiel was a priest, or at least, he was training for the priesthood when God called him to service as a prophet.  He was present in Jerusalem during the Babylonian siege, and taken into exile, more correctly described as captivity, with the rest of the aristocracy of Judah.  We don’t know much about him, except that he was well educated and an extremely sophisticated and talented writer, he was married, and he seems to have had a house in Tel Abib.  He is often described as one of the strangest of the prophets, having performed many of the most bizarre of prophetic sign acts in the Old Testament.  He is also one of the most memorable and influential, still striking deep and profound chords with modern readers. 

                Ezekiel insists that God is in total sovereign control, not just over creation, but also over nations, and in total control of history.  He portrays God as unbearably wrathful and vengeful, demanding the most extreme punishment imaginable for the extreme injustice of Judah’s government and the unmitigated unfaithfulness it’s people.  (Just to be clear, these are not views of history or of God that I share or want to perpetuate.  But it is important to understand this about Ezekiel.)  Ezekiel is relentless in his critiques of the corruptness of the government of Judah, and its total disregard of the covenantal laws that define the requirements and expectations of Judah’s relationship with God.  Ezekiel is venomous in his attacks.  Suffice it to say, that he demonstrates no pastoral care skills or inclinations whatsoever toward his people, until after he is forced to march the 900 mile trek across the deserts to Babylon with them, and then witnesses and experiences with them, the lifestyle of servitude and oppression they must endure.  Then he turns his attention to Israel’s enemies for chapters 25-32, preaching doom and gloom for them, for not recognizing the sovereignty of God and the specialness of the people of Israel.  Finally, in chapter 33 and continuing through the rest of the book, Ezekiel begins to speak of restoration and salvation—and in chapter 37, resurrection of the people of Israel, including Jerusalem and its temple.  After 32 chapters of Ezekiel’s relentless and abusive insistence that the people deserve to be removed from the face of the earth for their infidelity to God, God finally demands that Ezekiel change his tune, and give his people a huge and desperately needed visions of hope in the face of hopelessness.  God tells Ezekiel he is wrong, that God has not and will not ever abandon God’s people.  

                In order to understand this text, we need to understand the situation it addresses.  The Babylonians have conquered Jerusalem, the capitol city of Judah.  This siege lasted 2 to 2.5 years.  It was brutal.  The city was cut off completely from the outside.  At some point, the stores of food were drained, and the people began to succumb to starvation, especially women and children. There were no graveyards inside the city walls, no place to discard or store dead bodies.  Eventually, the city was set ablaze, walls and all, including the temple, and torn down—much the same as the images we see in the news of Ukraine or Gaza today.  War is terrifying, inhumane and horrific, always, no matter how sophisticated or precise the weaponry may be.  Death and destruction, carnage, trauma and hopelessness are all it leaves in its wake. 

                Those taken into captivity, mostly the wealthy, educated ruling class along with those who had skills or trades useful to the Babylonians, like blacksmiths, carpenters, scribes and able-bodied soldiers, were pressed into forced labor or slavery in Tel Abib or other Babylonian cities, if they survived the march.  Many were likely separated from their surviving family members in the turmoil, if not by design.  The wealthy aristocrats were forced into physical labor, something most had never imagined, much less experienced.  They were stripped of their wealth and privilege, their social and political status, their lands and homes, their heritage—everything that mattered.  After years of captivity, scarred by the trauma of war and the carnage they witnessed, the people of Judah had descended into abject hopelessness, only worsened by Ezekiel’s insistence that they deserved every ounce of pain and suffering and trauma that they had endured.  They were, essentially zombies—living corpses devoid of hope, of joy, of meaning and purpose, going through the motions of daily living, but dead inside.  I can’t help but think that, eventually, Ezekiel found himself just as hopelessly empty and dead inside as the rest of them.  Jeremiah, who remained in Jerusalem with the surviving poor, wrote to those in Babylonian captivity, telling them to get married, raise children, marry them off and enjoy grandchildren—and we must therefore surmise that they, like the Jewish survivors of the Nazi concentration camps, may have felt was pointless.  What kind of world was this to bring children into?  The people are utterly broken, dis-spirited.  Ezekiel’s harsh criticism has taken root and strangled the life out of them.  They are lamenting their situation, grieving their losses, and giving up hope that God will ever remember them, much less restore them. 

                So God, in a vision, transported Ezekiel to a hilltop view of a valley filled with desiccated and dismembered bones, and asked him, “Mortal, can these bones live?”  Ezekiel responded, “O Lord God, you know.”  Man, would I like to have heard how Ezekiel said those words!  Without tone and inflection, we can’t tell if he says this with hope, with sad dejection, purely matter-of-factly, or inquisitively.  I’ve often wondered whether he meant, “How would I know, God?  Can they?  Only you can answer that.” 

                Then God demonstrates to Ezekiel that the impossible is, indeed, possible with God.  He even insists Ezekiel participate, speaking the divine words that can reform and reanimate the corpses.  It is important to note, at this point, that the word translated as “breath” also means both wind and Spirit.  He prophesies to the bones, then to the Breath or Spirit, or perhaps both, and then to the four winds. The bones are re-membered, re-connected, and re-created, and then filled once again with the breath of life that is the Spirit of God—in much the same way that Adam was formed, his lungs filled with air, his body enlivened by the Spirit.  Finally, God explains that these are the people of Israel, and that God will, indeed, re-establish their relationship and resurrect their kingdom in Israel.

                I know that, in the text, God refers to graves. But this text is not about raising the dead, either those slain in battle or those who died of illness or starvation or old age.  God is talking about the captives of war, the exiled people of Israel, those who are still alive, but have given up on life—those who are living a life of death.  God’s intention is to mend their broken spirits, to breathe renewed life and spirit into those who are living as though they were dead.  The “graves” God is speaking of are metaphors for the conditions of slavery and exile—the Babylonian tombs in which they toil and languish in hopelessness and despair.  God will resurrect them by filling them with a new spirit of hope that will inspire them to begin living again.  And it is this hope, this promise in the book of Ezekiel and other such prophecies that have kept the Jewish people going, hoping, believing in a future that they couldn’t see, century after century, in the face of hardship, trauma and adversity.

                But this text also addresses us today.  It reminds us that life and death are not always polar opposites.  It is possible to be alive in body, but dead in spirit.  I’m guessing that most of us have experienced that, or will experience that, at some point.  That’s what happens when we lose hope, when we give in grief and despair, when life loses its meaning, when we give up on life and happiness and just go through the day-to-day motions of life, without hope or joy, maybe even without feeling much of anything at all—just feeling more or less numb and dead inside.  Some of us, desperate to feel alive, to feel anything at all, may be tempted to do things that may be dangerous, that may cause pain or injury, just to feel a rush of adrenaline that can remind us we are alive. 

                This text reminds us that there is still and always hope.  It reminds us that anything is possible with God—even the absurdly impossible becomes possible.  Ezekiel challenges us, as Christians, as Easter people, to rethink our understanding of resurrection and resurrection life.  We often think of resurrection (and salvation) as something that happens only after we die, maybe even only on the last day.  But not according to this text.  According to this text, resurrection can happen even while we are still living and breathing.  The same is true of salvation.  And I think that the Gospels say that too.  When Jesus restores Zaccheus to his community in Luke, he declares that salvation has come to his house, his family, that very day.  Again in Luke, when Jesus goes to Simon Peter’s house, finds Peter’s mother-in-law sick and rebukes her fever, the Greek indicates that she is raised up, restored—the same verb Jesus uses in John 11 when he says tells Mary that the dead and entombed Lazarus will rise again, and she thinks he means at the end of time—the same verb used in the gospels to refer to Christ’s rising from the dead.

                Resurrection can mean being brought back to life after death, but it doesn’t mean only that, and certainly not to the same life as before.  Resurrection means being brought to new life or to newness of life—a life of meaning and purpose, a life different from the life of death, meaninglessness, emptiness, hopelessness that we were formerly living.  Resurrection is a way of life—the Jesus Way of life.  It is life lived out of the love, grace and mercy of exemplified in Christ’s life, death and resurrection.  It is a life that embodies Christ’s love and compassion, his forgiveness and mercy, his kindness and generosity toward others.  Resurrection life can begin at any age: at confirmation, at the hearing of the gospel, or in receiving the sacraments.  It may begin over and over again as we struggle with questions of faith, as we stumble and fall and then pick ourselves back up again, as we overcome a battle with grief and loss, or and each time we lose our identity, and then rediscover or remember anew who and whose we are.

                I think, perhaps the best description of resurrection life I know of comes from the song “To Be Alive” by Dakota Road, a Christian band based in MN.  The lyrics go like this:

Join the singing/join the celebration/ Jesus lives./We are restored./So we live mercy, hope and freedom/Loving another to be whole./To be alive is to live the love/That is alive in God’s saving son/who brought us back from a life of death/to be alive. 

                Another, newer song that gives a good description is “Live Like That” by the sidewalk prophets.  It goes like this:      

Sometimes I think/what will people say of me/when I’m only just a memory/when I’m home where my soul belongs?/Was I love/when no one else would show up?/Was I Jesus to the least of us?/ Was my worship more than just a song?/I want to live like that/And give it all I have/So that everything I say and do/points to You./ If love is who I am/then this is where I’ll stand/Recklessly abandoned, never holding back/I want to live like that/Am I proof/That You are who you say You are/That grace can really change a heart/Do I live like Your love is true/People pass/And even if they don't know my name
Is there evidence that I've been changed/When they see me, do they see You/I want to live like that…

                The point is, we are all prone to give up or give in from time to time and start living as though we had nothing to live for, as though we were dead, as though we no longer mattered, as though we made no difference in any way, shape or form to anyone at all.  But Ezekiel 37 reminds us that we are resurrection people, and we are also resurrected people, called to live lives of gospel love for the sake of others in gratitude for what God did for us through Jesus.  And he reminds us that we don’t have to be dead and buried to be resurrected.  Our hope isn’t limited to an afterlife in some heavenly realm beyond time and imagination.  We can be resurrected over and over again, as often as necessary throughout this life on this earth.  Each time we are resurrected, we are made new again.  God is always at work in us, transforming us for work in the Kingdom of God, such as it is here and now. God is always renewing, restoring and resurrecting us to new and better life in relationship with Christ.  And that, my friends, is good news indeed.  Alleluia and Amen.

Sunday, July 28, 2024

Sermon:               Hope and Faith as Resistance to Oppression

 The book of Daniel is unique, even for the Old Testament.  It is composed in two different languages.  It doesn’t fit neatly into any one particular genre, like law, history, poetry, prophecy or wisdom.  It starts out with what scholars call court tales, like those in the book of Esther or the Joseph stories from Genesis—stories of danger and intrigue centered around Hebrew people serving in the palaces of foreign kings.  The whole first half of the book of Daniel consists of court tales involving the legendary prophet Daniel and his three friends serving in the palace of King Nebuchadnezzar of Babylon during the exile.  And, like Joseph, Daniel has the ability to interpret dreams and visions.

The second half of the book takes up Daniel’s visions and prophecies, and is essentially an apocalypse—not in the modern Hollywood sense of the word that takes it to mean the end of the world, (although it sometimes sounds and probably felt like it,) but in the sense of Divine Revelation.  That’s what the word apocalypse means—an unveiling of something hidden from humans, a revealing of hitherto secret knowledge or events, generally mediated and explained by a messenger of God—in this case, the angel Gabriel.   The court tales in chapters 2-6 are written in Aramaic, the language of the Assyrian and Babylonian empires, while chapter 1, which provides the setting and explains how Daniel and his friends came to be in Nebuchadnezzar’s court, and chapters 8 through 12 containing Daniel’s visions and their explanations are composed in Hebrew.

 Taken as a coherent whole, the Book of Daniel is best understood as a form of Resistance literature, composed during the Babylonian exile, to bring hope and courage to the people of Israel during their captivity and slavery in Babylon after the destruction of Jerusalem and the Temple.  It aimed to help the people remember who they were, and whose they were, and to remain faithful to God and to their beliefs, even in the midst of slavery and servitude to the power, wealth and violence of oppressive foreign rule.  The first step in oppressing a people is to strip them of their pride, dignity, and sense of security, and then of their sense of self—their culture, their language, their faith, their heritage.  There are several other books in the Bible that function, in whole or in part, as resistance literature, including Ezra, Nehemiah, Esther, Isaiah, Revelation.   Honestly, even the Synoptic Gospels of Matthew, Mark and Luke were composed under the oppressive rule of the Roman Empire, and constantly contrast the earthly kingdom of Rome with the already-not yet Kingdom of God, insisting that followers of Christ owe their allegiance to God, not Caesar.  All of these books were composed under conditions of oppression and either captivity or occupation by foreign governments.  These are the conditions under which the Hebrew people lived for many centuries.

  The book of Daniel takes place during Israel’s captivity in Babylon.  After the fall of Jerusalem and the Kingdom of Israel, the wealthy elite were rounded up, according to some texts, disrobed, shackled to one another, and marched almost 900 miles to Babylon, where they were paraded through the streets of the capitol city like trophies, as the Babylonian people cheered for their army and jeered at their new slaves.  Needless to say, a considerable number of those who began the march did not survive the ordeal.  The Babylonians also raided Israel’s temple, and placed the gold and the vessels used in Israel’s worship in the temples of their own Gods, as if to say, “Not only did our army defeat your army, but our more powerful God has defeated your God.  Your God is powerless to save you.” Israel’s peasants were left behind to work the fields and vineyards, and the produce was sent to Babylon.  The empire sent many of their own citizens to Israel to oversee this labor and keep the peasants in line.

 Those who survived the march to Babylon were given new names, Babylonian names that honored the Babylonian gods, whom they were expected to worship.  They were taught to speak Aramaic, and forbidden to speak their native tongue.  As a result, most forgot their Hebrew language, and 500 or more years later, in Jesus’s time, the common language of the Jews was still Aramaic, not Hebrew.  Except for the scribes, Pharisees and Sadducees, most Jews could no longer read, write or understand Hebrew, so their scriptures and liturgies had to be explained by Aramaic Targums, and eventually translated into Greek and Latin.  They were no longer allowed to worship their God, or pray to God, except in secret.  They were forced to follow the customs of Babylonians, expected to eat Babylonian food sacrificed to foreign gods, to dress like Babylonians, speak like Babylonians, answer to Babylonian names, and serve their Babylonian leaders with diligence and faithfulness.  Compliance was enforced by threats of violence.  Resistance in any form could be lethal.

 Daniel and his companions, Hananiah, Mishael and Azariah were selected for service to the king mainly because they were young, healthy and good looking.  Their intelligence was only a secondary consideration.  They were given Babylonian names, the first step toward adoption of and assimilation into Babylonian culture.  Daniel, whose Hebrew name meant God is my judge, was renamed Belteshazzar.  Hananiah, meaning YHWH has been gracious, was renamed Shadrach.  Mishael, whose name meant who is what God is? was renamed Meshach, and Azariah, meaning YHWH has helped, was renamed Abednego. All these new Babylonian names refer to Babylonian Gods—an obvious attempt to make them forget their Hebrew identities, to forget their faith and their covenant with God and encourage them to worship the gods of Babylon.  Only Daniel continues to be referred to by his Israelite name throughout the book.

 In the story we just read, King Nebuchadnezzar has erected an enormous gold statue, presumably of himself, and decreed that all people in Babylon, our heroes included, must bow down and worship it—essentially worshipping the King as a god. He also declared that those who refuse will be executed, burned alive.  Shadrach, Meshack and Abednego refuse.  Their names have been changed, but they have not forgotten who they are, and whose they are.  They belong to YHWH, the God of Israel, the Creator of Heaven and Earth.  They may now live in Babylon, and serve its king, and this may be where they live the rest of their lives, but they still hold fast to their faith.  They have not forgotten that their primary allegiance is to God.  Nebuchadnezzar may be the most powerful king on earth, and ruler of its most powerful nation…for now, but God is king of all creation, and far more powerful than any earthly king.  Nebuchadnezzar takes offense, and orders that they be thrown into the fiery furnace.

 But here’s the kicker.  Did you notice that Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego acknowledge that God may not choose to save them?  The people of Israel are very aware that the reason their kingdom was defeated and are now in Babylon is because the ruling class of Israel was just as corrupt and oppressive of its own peasantry as are the Babylonians.   They know that this has angered God.  God had sent them prophet after prophet for nearly 200 years warming them that, unless the wealthy, elite ruling class (to which these men belonged) were to change its ways and begin to live by God’s laws of love and justice, they would be conquered by another nation.  The Southern Kingdom of Judah had watched it happen to the Northern kingdom when it ignored its prophets, but Judah, too, had failed to heed the warnings.  They knew God had reason to be angry and displeased with them.  They knew God could save them, if God so desired.  But they also believed God had allowed Judah to be destroyed, and had allowed them to be taken into captivity as slaves to their enemies.  But either way, they were not going to make the same mistake twice.  They were not going to misplace their allegiances.  They were not going to choose Nebuchadnezzar above God, or set him in the place of God.  They would rather die.  They were willing to take that chance—to remain loyal and faithful to God above all else. 

 They could have simply bowed to the statue, as commanded.  They could have justified it, after all, their lives were on the line.  They could have pretended to worship Babylon’s gods, and just confessed this sin and asked for forgiveness, while continuing to enjoy the privileges that come with living in the palace and serving the King.  But they chose not to pretend, to lie, to make a promise they didn’t intend to keep.  Instead, they chose to keep the laws of the covenant.  They chose to trust the relationship they had with God, to trust God to keep the promises God had made—to go with them wherever they went, to be faithful to them, to protect them and provide for them, to be their God, always.  They chose to risk everything, for the sake of their God.  They chose to trust in their identity as Children of God, servants of God, as God’s chosen people of the covenant. 

The text doesn’t say that they prayed, but as the king gave orders to superheat the furnace, and as they were bound and tossed into the flames, I think it’s safe to assume that they each began to pray, hoping, trusting that God would hear them, forgive them, show up for them, and save them from a horrific fate.  And that’s exactly what happened.  The fire was so hot it killed the men who hurled them into the furnace, but it didn’t even touch the clothing of Shadrach, Meshach or Abednego.  Instead of lying on the floor of the furnace burning in agony, they were walking around freely in the middle of the blaze, and suddenly there was another man visible in there with them—a man who shined like the Son of God, like Jesus on the mountain at the transfiguration, like the Son of Man in Revelation 1:13-14, the Son of Man who is the resurrected Jesus, the First and the Last, given authority, glory and power, worshipped by all nations and peoples.  The fourth person in the fire, which Nebuchadnezzar refers to as an angel, we recognize as Jesus, the Son of God and the Son of Man.

So, Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego were called to come out of the furnace, and everyone was amazed to see that they were unharmed.   In his astonishment, Nebuchadnezzar decreed that anyone who blasphemed against the Most High God of Israel would be torn limb from limb, for no other God is capable of such salvation.  Now, that’s quite a story, almost on par with the Exodus from Egypt

 The first half of the book of Daniel is full of powerful and memorable tales like this one.  But none of them ever come up in the lectionary.  I understand why, and yet… I think these stories are powerful and important, for a number of reasons.  First, they help us see the world from the perspective of those who are oppressed, persecuted, colonized.  Second, they remind us that we, as Christians, like the Israelites, are first and foremost Children of God and citizens of the Kingdom of God—the Kingdom ruled by the Jesus, who is also the Lamb of God that redeemed us with His blood.  This is the Kingdom and the ruler to which we owe our primary allegiance.  And it should be the values of Christ’s Kingdom that govern how we live in and participate in the earthly kingdoms in which we live and work and play and raise our families. 

Daniel L. Smith-Christopher, in his commentary on the book of Daniel for the New Interpreter’s Bible Commentary, wrote that, “…Christians know that they live in Babylon and not in the kingdom of God.”  That got my attention, because my response was, “Do we?  To what extent are we really consciously aware of that truth?”  And yet, that is the main point of Daniel—that all nations of the world are flawed, and fall short of God’s will and God’s justice.  Daniel challenges us to take stock of ourselves, our allegiances, and our values and figure out how to be good, participatory citizens in both realms.  The book of Daniel calls us out, and challenges us to look out for the neighbor, the immigrant, the disenfranchised, the marginalized in all nations, including our own.  It reminds us that we must be vigilant, and above all we must be, well, faithful.  We must never forget who we are, and whose we are, and what we believe.  We are the priesthood of all believers, disciples of Christ, and those come first. They get priority in our lives.  That’s what should rightfully guide and determine everything else—even our politics and our political ideals.  My dear friends, we aren’t members of the Republican Party, or the Democratic Party or the Libertarian Party—We are first and foremost, members of the Universal Party of the Lamb and as such, our values and our goals all coincide.  When we forget that, when we let such worldly things divide us, then we have lost our way, and we have forgotten who we are, who we are called to serve, who we are called to follow, and who we are called to be.  And when that happens, then we are truly lost.  When that happens, I think we need to turn to the Bible, to the book of Daniel, and be reminded once again, that we are Children of God, followers of Jesus, and citizens of Christ’s kingdom.  Nothing is more important than these truths.     

It isn’t easy.  Jesus never said that living faithfully would be easy.  He told us the truth.  He said it would be hard.  He said it might even be dangerous.  Living in both realms is a balancing act, one that requires a great deal of prayer and a strong relationship with Jesus.  When things get complicated, too hot for us to handle alone, we can trust Jesus to show up, and help us out.  We never have to do this alone.  Jesus is always with us.  Jesus is faithful, even when we are not.  Thanks be to God!  That’s all the more reason to keep trying to be faithful to him.  After all, only the love and grace of Jesus can mend a broken world. 

Sunday, July 21, 2024

Faith For You TODAY

The Revised Common Lectionary is a three-year cycle of Biblical texts that an interdenominational group of church leaders agreed were the best ones for congregations to hear. One year is based on Matthew, one on Mark, one on Luke and the Gospel of John is sprinkled throughout each of these years. This why your friend in the Methodist or Catholic church might hear the same Bible story as you do on a given Sunday. It is a good system – but not perfect. As you can tell by the word “Revised” – it has undergone changes at least once. But with four texts per Sunday for three years, not every story is included. So, the question arises: What gets left out?

 Inspired by Anna Carter Florence’s book, A is for Alabaster, and encouraged by our worship committee, Vicar Karen and I are exploring some of the “left out” passages and people for the next few weeks.

 One of the people that often gets left out – or at least overshadowed – is Rahab.  As you can see from the readings, Rahab is mentioned in both the Old and New Testament and she is also one of only four women who are listed in Jesus’ genealogy.  Tamar, Ruth and Bathsheba are the other women and all of them are there because there is a story about them… and not necessarily a “sweet” story. 

 However, one of the things that I appreciate about the Bible – especially the Old Testament Hebrew scriptures, is that the stories are not “prettied up”.  Instead, it includes honest stories of human foibles and failures and also wonderful stories of faith as well as foreigners and outsiders– like the Moabite Ruth and Canaanite Rahab– becoming family. Rahab in particular is the ultimate outsider for the Israelites – she’s a Canaanite, she’s a prostitute and she is a woman who takes charge. And despite that or maybe because of that, Rahab becomes known as an example of faith.

 Rahab lives in the least prestigious part of town – her house is built right up to the wall – and so it is the least safe location in the city but it also affords her the most access to what is going on both inside and outside the wall. Hers is the place – like the local bar or coffee shop – where people stop – and unburden their hearts – assuming “no one” is listening.  But Rahab listens. And she hears the stories of how God led the Israelites out of Egypt and through the Red Sea. She learns the story of the defeat of other kings who refused to let the Israelites peacefully pass through their land. The spies may think that they are being really sneaky. But Rahab knows immediately who they are – and so do the authorities who waste no time in looking for them.  But Rahab also knows how scared her people are at their arrival: “our hearts melted, and there was no courage left in any of us.” And, in the process of listening and learning and Rahab believes and proclaims, “The Lord your God is indeed God in heaven above and on earth below.”

 Rahab plays an interesting role. In the midst of a people whose hearts were “melting” and whose courage falters, Rahab exhibits both courage and hope for the future for her and for her family. Rahab knew that life in Jericho was about to change. But she also knew that change could also bring new possibilities.

 Anna Carter Florence makes the observation that “Rahab is like a certain kind of stock character in literature: not the lord or lady of the manor, but the servant downstairs whose cleverness and ingenuity will eventually save the day. On the surface, those characters may seem secondary and unimportant, but we underestimate them to our peril – as the owner of the house always discovers… They work the edges of the story, in the passageways meant for servants, when the grand staircases and fine rooms are revealed to be empty facades. They may be maids or chauffeurs or chimney sweeps or prostitutes; it doesn’t matter. The important thing is they’re survivors – and the ones with the key to our survival as well. Rahab is a character like this.”1

 A fellow pastor told me about a study that said people are responding to the world today in one of four ways – either with hope, cynicism, anger or exhaustion. Curious, she took the quiz to see where she fell. She was surprised to find that – when it came to hearing the news of the world – she was exhausted.

 In some ways, I’m not surprised. The steady drumbeat of “bad news” and negativity that our political process generates can be overwhelming. And, when fed a diet of this negativity it is easy to let our hearts melt within us and be filled with rage and the lawlessness of a mob chanting revenge. Anger is a motivating force – but not one that feeds our soul.

 It is also tempting to fall into cynicism – which is also fed by the negative “spin” that hides the plain truth. Even if we avoid anger and cynicism, it is so easy to become so exhausted and overwhelmed that we want to hide our heads in the sand until the election is over.  In a world like this, hope can be hard to come by.

 When my pastor friend discovered that she fell into the “exhausted” category, it kind of woke her up to realize that if she felt this way, her people in her congregation probably did too. How many people are stuck in anger, cynicism or exhaustion instead of the hope and joy of discipleship? 

 There is a place for anger – righteous anger – but it cannot be our sole motivator. Cynicism may be even less helpful because it turns your creative energy negative. And exhaustion is a sign that you need to take sabbath – rest  - and be renewed. But, none of these feed your soul. What we need is hope.  And as my friend said, real and lasting hope is not found in the party of the elephant or the donkey but rather in the party of the Lamb.

 Friends in Christ, this is who you and I belong to - we do not belong to the party of the elephant or the party of the donkey. We belong to the party of the Lamb.

 We belong to Jesus Christ, the Lamb of God. And this is where we receive faith and not fear. The party of the Lamb is the party of HOPE. The party of the Lamb is the party of resurrection life. The party of the Lamb is the party of faith.

 So maybe we need to be more like Rahab. Unlike her neighbors who “melt in fear” over the possibility of invaders, Rahab persistently chooses possibility and action. As Anna Carter Florence says, “In scripture, this kind of persistence is seen as faith.”

 This kind of persistent faith – despite the challenges and obstacles in our way – is what we need today. We can look to and be inspired by the faith of our fathers and mothers, and the great cloud of witnesses that have gone before us. But also let us embrace a faith that is distinctly ours, that we can claim as our own, a gritty, persistent faith like the faith of Rahab that sees possibilities where others see nothing but hopelessness. Rahab’s faith, our faith, is one that holds onto HOPE and that identifies with the Lamb of God, regardless of whatever else is going on in our world.

 This past week we hosted Vacation Bible School for children who are connected to our church, and to Robbins Way and to Cross of Glory and House of Hope. It was beautiful to see these children come together – many of them encouraged and sometimes accompanied by grandparents.  As they literally ran around the church singing “This Little Gospel Light of Mine” – a variation on the old “This Little Light of Mine,” I witnessed hope for the future.

 Brothers and sisters, friends in Christ, let us embrace that hope and that faith which is found in following Jesus, the Lamb of God.  Thanks be to God. Amen.

 1 Anna Carter Florence, A is For Alabaster, Westminster John Knox Press, 2023. P. 75

2 Elizabeth Felt, text study, Advent Lutheran, July 17, 2024