Sunday, October 27, 2019

Sermon - Reformation Sunday 2019

Reformation Sunday (Year C)                                                       October 27, 2019
John 8:31-36     Romans 3:19-28                                          Panzer Liturgical Service

This sermon has a little bit of something for everyone… a little history, biblical interpretation, application, and a discipleship challenge… yeah! I’ll try not to make your head spin too much…

I hated Western Civilization history class when I was in school. What did that have to do with me? It wasn’t until I was in seminary that I got why all of this history stuff matters. And I think it will surprise you, as it did me, that my church history books are just as important as my bible commentaries when it comes to preaching and teaching in the church.
Two years ago, we celebrated the 500th anniversary of the Reformation, and I was able to study of 31 key leaders in the Protestant Reformation – which actually started two centuries before Martin Luther came on the scene. Peter Waldo (13th C), John Wycliffe, Jan Hus, and Girolamo Savonrola (14 C)[i] each expressed the same concerns as published in Luther’s 95 Theses. These four, in particular, have something in common. Each was excommunicated from the Catholic Church, and three of the four were sentenced to death by the church for heresy. The Church hoped that with their ouster, their followers would get back in line, accepting Catholic doctrine as correct and infallible. In the end, it didn’t work. The seed had already been sown.

Martin Luther, while still a rebel, stood on the shoulders of these resisters who preceded him. This “protest” reformation of Christianity began because good, faithful people saw how far the Church had strayed from the teachings of Jesus. They wanted to read the Bible themselves instead of relying on a priest for interpretation. Even before Luther, John Wycliffe in England and Jan Hus in the current Czech Republic had translated the scripture into their vernacular languages and paid the price with their lives. Apparently, an educated laity was a threat to the Church.

So, what makes Luther successful when others were not? There were a few things that Luther had going for him that those who came before him did not.

1) Right time, right place… The pace of the world was rapidly changing during the 16th century. The University in Wittenberg had begun teaching the new Renaissance curriculum alongside the classics, and other theologians were great influences on Luther, among them Philip Melanchthon, who is buried across the aisle from Luther in the Schloss Church. The political climate was also in flux. Luther’s patron, Frederick the Wise, Duke of Saxony, protected Luther from the reach of the Catholic proceedings, which sought to removed Luther permanently as a voice for change within the Church and society.

2) The printing press… Guttenberg’s press made quick distribution of information possible. Best known for printing the first German bibles, he was also the largest printer of indulgences (the church’s version of “get out of purgatory at great cost to your loved ones”) which Luther railed against in his writings and sermons. In reality, Luther may or may not have posted them on the church door. But he did send them in a letter to his bishop, and by January 2018 had them printed and distributed to anyone who would take them. It wasn’t Facebook, but very momentous for the time.

3) He was a great writer, scholar, teacher, and preacher. It was both his gift and calling. But he didn’t see himself as better than others. Everyone is called to serve God in some way. Luther wrote, 
God’s callings are mostly quite ordinary—everyday relationships in the family, workplace, church, and community—in which Christians live out their faith in love and service to their neighbors. But God sometimes works in extraordinary ways as well, and when He does, He works by means of vocation; that is, through human instruments.[ii]
In a sense, Luther was releasing people to their live out an authentic faith, not just follow a set of rules designed to steer people to the heavenly gates. And no matter what Protestant tradition that any of us come from, we are a product of Luther’s work and the ones who came before and after.

Luther wrote volumes on doctrines described in the scripture. He is best known for his writings on salvation by faith alone – His Preface to the Letter to the Romans influenced many, including my own John Wesley. But he also wrote about the role faith has in the lives of Christian believers. It was not enough to confess and believe. Genuine faith is evidenced in everyday living.

In the reading from John, Jesus addresses the age-old (and contemporary) problem of what it means to be free… in the language of faith - of what it means to be saved. Is freedom or salvation about the religion of following the rules? That’s certainly where Jesus and the Pharisees came into conflict, over and over again.

I think it’s what often trips us up, too. Luther asks: Is faith about orthodoxy – right doctrine – or is it about orthopraxy – right living?[iii] Is it about checking off all the right boxes or how we treat our neighbors? Is it about saying we are Christian or living so that people know it without our speaking a word?

Life in Christ is not just about a personal relationship with Jesus or understanding Christian doctrine. It’s also about living out Jesus’ teachings, applying them to how we live out that faith. Ultimately, Luther looked at the way the Church was asking people to live – by following rules and regulations, often ones not addressed in scripture or church history, reminding us that faith is only truly fulfilled living it day to day.  

That’s why Luther’s insistence that people be able to read the Bible for themselves is important even to us. And yet, let’s be honest, are we faithful about picking up the bible and reading it for ourselves? I’d say that many of us, including me, are not. I’ll admit that on the weeks when I am preparing to teach or preach, I am immersed in the Word. But many days, I am content to reflect on a verse or two as contained in a small devotional, willing to check that box as “done.”

If that sounds a little familiar, here’s a challenge for you. The New Testament book of Mark was the first gospel written and is only about 660 verses. It can easily be read from beginning to end in much less time than watching a college football game. If you’re not up for reading it all in one day, ready it over a week, noting the details that emerge as the story progresses. And if you’re really intrigued, go on and read the gospels of Matthew and Luke – they are a little longer, but not too much. Notice the ways they reflect the book of Mark and the ways that they are different. See which themes run consistently throughout these three books, and see if you can figure out what themes are different. Get a good study bible and the possibilities are endless.

In the passage from Romans, we see Paul connect the idea of faith with justice and righteousness.[iv] The church in Rome was a mixture of Jewish and Gentile Christians, trying to live as one unified community, in spite of their different theological beginnings. By sharing meals and ministry together, they became a new family called The Way – which we call Church – even though the world around them didn’t understand how they could live in harmony. Today we have some of the same concerns. It’s easy to wall ourselves off into separate enclaves defined by gender, race, nationality and theological beliefs. Instead, God asks us to scale those barriers, trusting that God has called us and will be with us in the midst of our brave new lives.

I don’t know about you, but I go back and forth between obsessing over the news of the day and wanting to bury my head in the sand. This means that at any time, I am likely to be swamped with feelings of sadness, rage, panic, and fear. But even though it’s not always evident, there is a solution to the problems of the day, one which counts on their being a light at the end of the tunnel. And when I started drilling down on one message we could take away with us today, I saw that Jesus, Paul, and Martin Luther take us to the same place.  

And here is where that is: That “we” is stronger than the “me.” A life of faith is the hardest work that any of us will ever do - to acknowledge and then overcome the differences between us, but if we allow it, the things that separate us can be our strengths instead of our downfall. All of us bring something valuable to the table. All of us have gifts – God-given gifts to share. And our biggest successes will come when we put our trust in God to heal the wounds between us and make us whole again, working from our individual strengths, contributing to the common good with a common love for Christ.

People often ask me why a liturgical worship service means so much to me. After all, we are worshiping each Sunday with a liturgy that goes back over 1000 years. They ask, “Don’t you get tired of praying the same prayers, and knowing exactly what’s going to come next?” Time and again, I am able to say that those are exactly the things that make the experience so meaningful for me. Just because we sing the same hymns often or pray the same words every week, it doesn’t mean they get old. The Spirit breathes life into them over and over, making them new again and again.

The world is in a lot of turmoil these days, and I think we’re all looking for a sense that we’re not fighting an unwinnable battle. Reformation comes when we gather our courage and step out in faith that God speaks truth to us all, often replacing the certainty of the known and the comfortable, for trusting God in the middle of the unfamiliar, unafraid to face the future which looks different, but in a good way.

Reformation doesn’t mean dumping out everything old from the Church in an effort to take on new things just for the sake of change. Reformation means being willing to be re-formed… to be made new… and trusting that with God beside us, freedom and righteousness are ours to claim and use for growing the Kingdom of God.

David Lose, Lutheran pastor and former president of Lutheran Theological Seminary in Philadelphia sums it up this way:
Perhaps the best way to celebrate the Reformation is not to celebrate it at all, but rather to repeat it. To remember both halves of Paul’s mighty words, first the difficult truth that “all have sinned and fallen short” in order to hear the blessed news that “all are now justified by God’s grace as a gift.” For here, indeed, is a truth that sets you free. And it is a truth that still has the capacity to change lives, the church, and indeed the whole world. [v]
May God send us into the world to be a reformation people.  Amen.


Peace, Deb

(c) Deb Luther Teagan 2019



[i] Podcast – Here We Stand - https://www.desiringgod.org/here-we-stand
[iii] Samuel Cruz, http://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=3451
[iv] Jane Patterson, http://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=3448
(Good church history resource – www.christianhistoryinstitute.org)

Sunday, October 20, 2019

Sermon - Nevertheless, we persist (19th Sunday after Pentecost C)


Proper 25 – Year C                                                            October 20, 2019 
Genesis 32:22-31, Luke 18:1-8                                         Panzer Liturgical Service

Life is not fair. And anyone who tells you differently is lying.

I’m pretty sure that each of you is thinking of an instance where this is true. I am overwhelmed with thoughts of good, faithful people who suffered through illness, the death of friends and family, natural disasters, or suffered under the burden of public and private discrimination. I am reminded of crooks and scoundrels, murderers and assailants, bullies and accomplices, who got away with terrible things and never suffered the consequences that the law demands.

But while God never promised us fair, He is present in the midst of our struggles. The Genesis and Luke passages speak of this well.

In the Hebrew Bible lesson from Genesis, we are confronted with Jacob, returning home after a decades-long absence. To set the story up well, we have to go back to Genesis 25 to remember who he was and why he left. Jacob was the younger twin to Esau, sons of Isaac and Rebekkah. From the very beginning, God knew that these two boys would go in opposite ways. And this caused a great deal of conflict between them from the beginning.

Esau was a man’s man – hunter, outdoorsman, and Isaac’s favorite. Jacob was a homebody - quiet and studious, and the apple of Rebekkah’s eye. So, we can already see from just a few verses how there will never be peace in this family. The ultimate conflict comes while Jacob is making a stew. Esau returns famished from working the field, and instead of just sharing what he’s made, Jacob uses it as leverage against Esau. Think of everyday battles between siblings.
Esau: Hey, give me some of that – I’m starving.
Jacob: I made this for myself – get your own food, dude.
Esau: I’ll give you whatever you want – just give me the stew.
Jacob: OK, in return, give me your right to be the heir.
Esau: I’m so hungry I might die if you don’t give it to me, so what the heck – yeah, OK.

And so, it was done.

What Esau doesn’t count on is what this would mean when his father, Isaac, actually died. Old and blind and on his death bed, he asks Esau to prepare a meal from freshly killed game, sealing Isaac’s final blessing. Meanwhile, Rebekkah schemes, preparing two lambs that Jacob brings from the pasture for Jacob to give to Isaac instead. Her reasoning is that if Jacob brings the food first, he will get the blessing reserved for Esau. And just in case the food isn’t enough to do it, she places lamb skin on Jacob’s smooth arms to trick Isaac into thinking he is Esau. And indeed, lying to Isaac several times about his identity, Jacob receives the blessing meant for his brother.

Totally not fair. And especially unfair to Esau because Jacob received his father’s blessing, and also the blessing of God. Genesis 28 highlights the vision of Jacob as he escapes from the Esau (we are climbing Jacob’s ladder) and the promise of God for many descendants and God’s protection. Jacob was so moved by this dream, that he made a sacred alter, anointed it with oil, and named it Bethel – God’s house.

Fast forward 20 years. Jacob has a large family and much wealth. He has been working for years for his father-in-law, but isn’t really feeling appreciated anymore, and in this process is called by God to return to the land where he came from. So, he gathers up his wives and children and flocks and belongings and head back home. But going home means coming to terms with Esau and the drama of his deception.

As he nears home, he sends messengers to ask that Esau allow him to come home – Be kind, he asks. The messengers return saying, “Esau is coming with 400 men.”  Think about how you would feel if you were him – this is very, very bad.

First Jacob thinks – OK, if I divide my people and my stuff into two different camps, maybe one will survive. Then he prays to God: “OK, God, you told me to come home. I don’t deserve all the blessings I have. Please keep your promise to keep me well. Save me from my brother Esau.” Lastly, he makes a gift for Esau – multiple goats and rams, camels, bulls, and donkeys, and send them ahead to soften the blow of his coming home.

At the end of the journey, he sent his personal entourage across the river, close to where Esau and his men would be. But Jacob stayed alone on the near side. Or at least he thought he was alone. The scripture just says this: 

But Jacob stayed apart by himself, and a man wrestled with him until dawn broke. 

Was it an angel? What it a man – maybe even Esau coming to exact some revenge in secret? What it the very person of God? We do not know. But we do know this. Jacob did not come away without a permanent reminder of the experience. His limp would always keep this experience close - his every going and coming would be marked by this encounter.

But the limp is not the only thing that Jacob takes away. From this time forth, his name was Israel – one who struggles with God and perseveres. In Israelite culture, names were given to tell something about that person. A change in name would indicate a significant change in status. The name “Jacob” meant “he takes by the heel,” referring to the way Esau supplanted Jacob when they were born. At this point in the story, Jacob comes into his own independent destiny. He confronts his past and comes out on top.

This is not just a story about the person Israel, but also the people of Israel, and the story about their relationship with God. The land of Israel defined itself as a people who refused to let go of God. They would fight with God to demand that Yahweh bless them. They were a people willing to be changed, even damaged in that exchange, because they knew that attaining that blessing was worth the sacrifice. They were not a people of passive faith.

For Christians, heirs of the Jewish faith, this story gives us a vivid model for prayer. God is not looking for lukewarm followers. God rewards those who are willing to fight for the heavenly blessing. In this story, God is unrecognizable to the bystander, until the blessing is requested – that would have been for God alone to give. It is in wrestling with God that Jacob’s heirs – even us – see God’s face.

Turning over the Genesis 33, we know that Esau forgives Jacob and for a while, all is well. Lesson learned: God is with us in the blessing and the struggle – and sometimes the struggle is the blessing, even if we end up limping away.

This is not an unusual view of prayer in the Hebrew Bible. Look at Job, Lamentations, the Psalms and you will see this same idea – God’s presence and blessing are not only given in the good times, but even more often as we struggle to see God in our lives at all. In the gospel reading for this Sunday, Jesus’ parable of the woman who nags the judge until he gives her what she wants (Luke 18:1-8) extends this definition of faith into the New Testament.[i] God rewards those who won’t let go.
(c) Ana B Design

The persistent widow in Jesus’ parable from Luke 18 is that kind of woman… she will not settle for injustice, even in the case of a judge who did not fear God or respect the people he served. He refused to hear her case many times, but she still kept coming, becoming a real thorn in his side. Finally, he said, “Enough already – I’ll find in her favor just to keep her out of my hair.” I’m pretty sure that every parent, teacher, boss and child knows this feeling… alright already – please let’s move on to something else.

But let’s not be confused. Jesus is not saying that God is the unjust and angry judge – it’s actually the opposite. He says, “If this no-good judge can dispense justice in light of a persistent widow, how much more will God, who is infinitely just, fulfill our prayers, even if it’s not in the ways we expect.” Jesus is reminding us that we are to be diligent, and even persistent in orienting ourselves toward God.[ii]

One of the biggest mistakes we can make is falling into the belief that our prayers are a checklist which we expect God to tick off according to our timelines. Prayer is not just talking to God. It is also listening to God. 

We do this when we read and study scripture. Memorizing verses is good, but I’m also a believer in reading the biblical story like a good book, taking note of the ways our own lives are mirrored in the lives of our biblical heroes and even its villains. Listening to God happens in worship, as the words of our liturgy, which stay basically the same every week, take on new meaning in light of a scripture or a hymn or something that happened during the week.

Listening to God happens in our Christian conversation with friends and family. I am always amazed at the ways that others can give me new perspective on my most urgent prayer requests, leading me to accept or enable solutions that I would never have thought of myself.

When Jacob began his journey back home, he was being obedient, but he was also afraid. He laid out several contingency plans to save his flocks, his family and his servants. But in the end, he also expected the worst – that Esau would reject him or even exact justice due him for the harm done to Esau and his family so many years before. Ultimately, Esau forgave him, but Jacob always carried with him a permanent reminder of the struggles and the blessings of his life. That didn’t make him any less blessed or justice any less present.

Both of these stories remind us that God doesn’t fit in to an easy mold, be it “wrathful God” or the “God who solves all my problems.” Like Jacob, we often come away from our encounters with God with amazing blessings, but sometimes we also come away limping, permanently marked. Like the widow, in our persistence, we receive justice, often more than we are due, because of the boundless generosity of our God, who is intimately engaged with us, who seeks us out, reacts to our persistence, and blesses us in ways we would never have chosen ourselves.

If there is any lesson I take away from today it is this: Our God not like us – God is wily, unpredictable, dangerous and just. God will always stay the course – we are called to have the courage and persistence to claim the blessing that is ours.[iii]

Nevertheless, we persist!

Peace, Deb