Sermon - Behold, the Kingdom of God... (Proper 11A)

7^th Sunday after Pentecost – Proper 11A                            July 19, 2020

Matthew 13:24-30, 36-43                                           Panzer Liturgical Service

The bible is a remarkable piece of literature and an inspiring portrait of a wonderous God. In the creation stories, we see God as gardener, God as potter, God as creator and giver of life. Throughout the journey of the Hebrew people, we see a God who chooses unlikely prophets and teachers to bring them along the way. Sometimes they brought a message of joy and hope; other times, disapproval and judgment. Even so, the people of God made both good and bad choices. And in the end, God saw no other option but to come to walk and talk among us. That’s when we meet Jesus.

In the gospels, we meet a great teacher who moved among the people, telling stories and teaching about faith in a new way. Each of the gospels has a different perspective and a different audience. Matthew wrote for a Jewish audience, those who were waiting for the new Messiah, as promised by the prophets - a victorious king, come to reclaim his people and overthrow their oppressors. In hindsight, we can see that Jesus wasn’t exactly what they had in mind, so the writer Matthew frequently explains how Jesus really does fulfill all that had been promised.

Today’s parable continues with farming metaphors. Previously, the parable of the sower was uplifting – seed, soil, and sower coming together to bring a bountiful harvest. This week’s parable of the wheat and the tares is more challenging. For many, it is frightening and confusing. After all, any story that includes the phrase “weeping and gnashing of teeth” doesn’t seem like something we want to be a part of. 

Biblical scholars describe the culture of that days as antagonistic, that is, hostile and conflict-oriented. People were often set against one another, seeing their differences, not the things they had in common. Today's parable is an illustration of this.

An enemy has sowed weeds among the wheat. While this feels weird to us, Jesus' audience understood this perfectly. When you were born into a family, you not only inherited the family’s honor and status, but also its friends and enemies. Who knows why families become enemies, but the consequences were always the same. Feuds develop and persist over long periods of time. Think Hatfields and McCoys, or Romeo and Juliet. You may not remember the exact nature of the original fight, but the need to continue to conflict remains the same. 

Once the premise has been established that the weeds didn’t get there by accident, we go on. In this story, the weeds are planted soon after the wheat seeds are sown. They do not reach maturity and become clearly distinguishable from the wheat until almost time for the harvest. The natural desire is to pull the weeds once you recognize what they are. But this poses a significant risk to the desired crop. The roots of the weeds have grown next to the roots of the wheat. The very act of pulling the weeds from the ground will uproot as many wheat plants as it saves. Additionally, pulling the weeds is time consuming and causes the trampling of the very crop you are trying save. Jesus teaches that it is better to wait until the time of the harvest to separate the two different plants, in spite of the desire to take action sooner. In the end, the righteous will shine and evil, in due time, will get its just reward.

As much as we might want to, we cannot deny that evil exists. In fact, it seems to be alive and well in the world, living nearby. Now, we definitely want to be on the side of Good, because Evil doesn’t fare so well in the end. And yet how do we know which is which? We want the world to be black and white, but there is a lot of grey in between. And that is what Jesus knows…that as much as we want it to be our job to judge others, the responsibility belongs to God alone. 

As the church grew from its early beginnings, the disciples were concerned that the “right kind of people” follow Jesus. The book of Acts details conversations and arguments among the remaining disciples on who could be a part of the church. From that time on, we have periodically bought into the idea of the church as exclusive community, not the inclusive body that Jesus demonstrated it to be.

In her book, Amazing Grace: a Vocabulary of Faith, author Kathleen Norris talks about how much her grandmother loved this parable, and how as a child she could never figure out why. She thought it odd and creepy that someone could actually be waiting for the day when the weeds were burned with a fire that would not die. She says, “The idea of judgment, of being called to account for the way we have live in the world, is solemn, and terrifying. But as I began to read and mediate on the gospel story, I could appreciate the way that folk wisdom and ancient agricultural know-how were being used to convey about how the human mind works. This text does not justify our judgment of others. In fact, the parable warns against just that.[i] 

Jesus gives us three reasons why we should not take that kind of judgment on ourselves. First, such attempts are premature. In the book of Ecclesiastes, the writer tells us that there is a time for every purpose under heaven. Jesus reminds us time and again that God’s timing doesn’t always make sense to us. Waiting is difficult. When others ask, “Why don’t you do something?” we are often called to wait. In times of dissent, we are at the mercy of our friends and acquaintances to support us in our waiting. Our reputations might suffer… we might feel alone, we might keep asking why, but still we wait.

Second, such attempts to weed out evil as the first course of business often result  loss of the faithful, even as we seek to eliminate the unfaithful. Preacher Tony Campolo tells the story of a woman he met in an all-night diner in Honolulu as he was in jetlag recovery. About 3am, a group of eight women came in, laughing and talking loudly. He learned from their friendly banter that they were “ladies of the evening,” finished with their work and checking in before going home. Eavesdropping a little more, he realized that one of the women would be celebrating her 39^th birthday the next day.

After the group left, Campolo got an idea. He talked the diner owner and his wife into throwing a birthday party for her the next night. 24 hours later, the diner was decorated with streamers and balloons, other customers staying around to help with the surprise. As the ladies entered the building, everyone inside shouted, “Happy Birthday, Agnes!” Agnes was in shock, and while everyone was dying for a piece of cake, she begged them to let her to take in home whole to share with her kids, and as a reminder of the wonderful day. As shocked as they all were, they couldn’t think of a good reason to refuse her request, and so she left with the cake intact, an unexpected, precious gift.

Campolo broke the awkward silence by saying, “Why don’t we pray?” and without hesitation prayed for Agnes in her life, asking God to bless her on her birthday, bring peace into her life, and save her from all that troubled her. After the “Amen,” the owner said, “You didn’t tell me you were a preacher. What kind of church do you preach at?” Tony thought for a minute and said, “I preach at the kind of church that throws birthday parties for prostitutes at three o’clock in the morning.” To which the man replied, “No, you don’t. There is no church like that. I would join a church like that.”[ii] 

Third, the task of judging between good and evil belongs not to us, but to Christ. Matthew reminds us throughout his account of Jesus’ life that God is the ultimate authority of our lives. In Matthew 7:1, we hear, “Do not judge, so that you may not be judged.” This parable deals with a practical problem. In the church, we find bad mixed with good. Every congregation has members who some assume don’t measure up. Each of us, at times, falls short of the glory of God. You name it … it happens. Christian congregations and their members are not immune to the sins of the world.

But in this parable, Jesus calls us to patience and faith -- patience with those who fail to meet the standard (as voiced in the parable itself -- vv. 24-30) and faith that God will deal with them at the right time (as heard in the interpretation -- vv. 36-43). Jesus calls us to withhold action against others so that we don’t create more problems than we solve – or destroy the good with the bad. Unlike God, we cannot know a person's heart. Nor can we see where people's lives might take them -- their potential for redemption.

God has not equipped us with the vision and insight necessary to weed the garden as we see fit. As wonderful as it would be to have a "pure" church -- a church without sinners -- Jesus tells us that only in the harvest is such purity possible. Attempts to achieve purity now will prove disastrous, destroying the church. 

So, what do we do? Matthew tells us a little later on in the 18^th chapter, that we are to use the time we have to work for reconciliation and forgiveness, without reservation. It is not easy and takes a lifetime of practice and very hard work. And often happens in unexpected times and places.

In 1943, there existed in the south of France an oasis. It was not the kind we usually think about, with palm trees and beautiful pools of water. Instead, it was a haven for those being persecuted by the Nazi occupation. In the Huguenot village of Le Chambon du Lignon, over 5000 Jews were saved. They were hidden and smuggled, given new identities and new hope, and for the most part, the Germans left them alone. No Jew was ever turned away from Le Chambon. Many people in the town, including their two Protestant ministers and the school teacher, were arrested and held in an interment camp near Limonges, but this did not deter the villagers from the work of saving Jews, not the work of supporting their arrested friends. 

The peoples’ faithfulness to their town leaders overwhelmed the other camp prisoners as packages arrived almost every day. Soon the three share the things that were sent to them, and began to lead worship in the camp, winning over Communists, Catholics and non-believers alike. They preached and taught a gospel of love, compassion and non-violence, showing with the witness of their lives that resistance to the violence of the Nazi and Vichy regimes could be as daring as militant fighting or a simply sharing love to friend and stranger alike.[iii]

The actions of the villagers were puzzling to those who looked in from the outside. When the police came to arrest her husband, Marie Trocmé offered and fed the two policemen dinner. When asked how she could do such a thing, she replied, “What are you talking about? It was dinnertime; they were standing in my way; we were all hungry. The food was ready.”[iv] Instead of thinking as themselves as brave, the people merely thought of themselves as faithful. 

Many years later, when speaking to a group in Minneapolis, Philip Hallie, who researched the village’s story, was approached by a woman who witnessed the villagers’ bravery herself; they saved the lives of her three children. She proclaimed to the room full of people, “The Holocaust was storm, lightening, wind, rain, yes. And Le Chambon was the rainbow”…the sign that God never gives up, and a promise that living, not killing, will have the last word.[v]

Paul speaks to this in today’s lesson from Romans. I could preach another whole sermon linking these two passages together, but I will end with this brief reflection. Paul wrote to a community where it was still illegal to be a Christian, and many people were killed rather than renounce their faith. They understood their fate. But they stood strong, knowing that whatever troubles they were going through in these days were insignificant in comparison to the glory that God would bring in the future. 

Our hope is built on the belief that our suffering is not futile. Like the work of giving birth, we have hope in a better tomorrow, filled with the love of God as we are claimed as God’s true sons and daughters. And evidenced in those same fruits of the Spirit that I spoke of last week… love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, perseverance and self-control – they are the very foundation on which we are called to live.

Jesus didn’t teach easy things. His words challenge us every day to live our lives in ways that matter, drawing people in rather than pushing them away. In Matthew’s gospel, we learn important lessons, that small things matter and are integral to the fabric of our existence. Ultimately, Jesus calls us to open the kingdom of God to all, and trust God to take care of things in the end. 

Thanks be to God! Amen.

Prayer: Lord Jesus, we thank you that you did not leave us to our own devices. You came to us, bound yourself to our humanity, reached out to us, taught and healed us, and showed us the way to life. Even when we turned away from you, you refused to turn away from us, suffering even death on a cross because of us. Therefore we come to you in worship and prayer, knowing what lengths you have gone to in order to come to us. For your never ending love for us, for the unbreakable bond that you have forged with us, we give you thanks and praise. Thank you for the right comfort of knowing that nothing can separate us from you. Amen.

 

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[i] Norris, Kathleen, Amazing Grace: A Vocabulary of Faith, Riverhead Books, 1998, pp 316-7.

[ii] Campolo, Tony, The Kingdom of God is a Party, Word Publishing, 1990, pages 3-9.

[iii] Hallie, Philip, Lest Innocent Blood Be Shed, Harper Torchbooks, New York, 1994, pp 26-38.

[iv] Ibid, pg 20.

[v] Ibid pg xvii.

Sermon - Seed, Soil, Sower (Proper 10A)

6^th Sunday After Pentecost – Proper 10A                                July 12, 2020

Matthew 13:1-9, 18-23, Romans 8:1-11                         Panzer Liturgical Service

Seed, Soil, Sower

The dandelions will always win. That’s one of the first lessons we learned about gardening in Germany. Our first house 16 years ago didn’t have a yard. We had a square of garden outside our front door that was beautifully landscaped and literally the only thing we had to do to keep it beautiful was battle the dandelions. They were relentless. Why? Because across the street from us was an apple orchard that was covered in the sunny yellow flowers, and when they were ready to distribute their copious seeds, we were right in the light of fire.

Fast forward ten years, 3 assignments in the US, and we moved back to Germany to a house with a large yard, a designated garden space, and a terraced perennial garden that wraps around two sides of the house. Not only is the yard filled with dandelions and other flowering groundcovers, but flowering weeds pop up in the middle of planned landscapes and between the cracks of every garden stone and around the edge of our driveway and sidewalks. I cannot tell you the number of hours we have spent plucking up and composting the spiky, relentless plants. Imagine my surprise when our neighbor, wanting to practice her conversational English, asked, “why are you digging up the Löwenzahn? Its bright yellow color is so beautiful with the purple irises and other plants in your garden.” Then I realized, one person’s weed is another person’s beautiful flower.

Along with the Parable of the Good Samaritan and the Parable of the Prodigals, this Parable of the Sower is among the most well-known of Jesus’ teachings. Remember, one of the reasons parables were such great teaching tools was because they presented the elements of faith in the language of the people’s common experiences. Jesus didn’t need them to learn a new religious language to understand what he was talking about. Instead, he spoke about the things they knew in their everyday lives and connected them to how God asks us to live and work in this world.

This parable is especially unique because Jesus actually gives an explanation of what it means, just to make sure no one (that is, the Pharisees) misses the point. The actual parable is in verses 1-9, the explanation in verses 18-23. But just because Jesus gives a small lesson in interpretation, it doesn’t mean there are no additional layers to explore. So, we are going to look at three layers to this parable, and I hope that we’ll take away an idea of how intricate and woven together the life of faith is. It is for certain that without any one of these three components, a bountiful harvest cannot be accomplished.

Seeds, Soil, Sower… all three are required, but what is the character of each that ensures the best possible harvest? Let’s take a look at each to see.

First, the Seeds: This one is pretty simple - If you want tomatoes, you have to plant tomato seeds. You can’t plant pumpkin seeds and harvest cucumbers. The kind of seeds we plant matters. The same is true about our faith. We can’t plant hate and harvest love. Additionally, it’s good to know the best conditions for the seeds to grow and flourish. How deep should they be planted? What kind of soil do they like? How long from planting the seed until the harvest? Around here, if you wait until June to plant a tomato seed, you’ll barely start harvesting tomatoes before the first frost comes and kills the plant’s ability to set new fruit and grow something you can eat.

Yes, it’s certainly possible to have a fruitful garden just flying by the seat of your pants. But why, when a little knowledge can give you so much more. But the best gardeners understand the intricacies of the seeds and the plants and how to get the end result they want. And whether you are studying the best way to keep your $10 orchid plant blooming, or how to grow a prize-worthy watermelon, it all starts with the seeds.

The same is true with our faith lives. Believing in Jesus, having a personal relationship, asking Jesus to live in our hearts, being saved – however, you describe the process of accepting and professing faith in Jesus Christ – that is just the first step. An unplanted seed is still just a seed. A seed that is placed in a growing medium, watered, and given good growing conditions will produce a bounty overwhelming greater than the nature of the seed alone. Faith alone, when unplanted, untested, underdeveloped, or unchallenged, will wither up and die. We have to do something with the faith we have.

Next, the Soil: Many of the sermons preached on this passage today will focus on the soil. That’s actually where Jesus goes, too. He has four main points.

• The seed that lands where the soil has become hardened from being repeatedly walked on simply sits on the surface, waiting to become food for the birds.
• The seed that falls on rocky soil has difficulty taking root because the soil inhibits the growth of strong roots, necessary for plants to access the nutrients in the soil.
• The seed that falls on ground covered in thorns must compete with already well-established, invasive plants and stands little chance.
• But the seed that falls on the soil that has been prepared, turned over and loosened until it is fine, and replenished with nutrients from the decaying matter of leaves, thrives.[i]

Soil, like faith, is shaped by its environment. A pathway trampled by the traffic of life may be able to support the sprouting of a few seeds, but before long, wildlife will often swoop in for a snack before any good growth can be established. The hardness of the soil makes it an unfruitful environment. The same can be said for people. Those who are bruised and battered by the world around them harden their hearts to protect themselves. It makes it difficult for a loving faith to grow.

Anyone who has tried to plant in a plot of rocky soil knows that the rocks get in the way of good growth and also in the way of a successful harvest. Yes, you can usually get something to grow, but it will take a lot more time and energy to bring a harvest of great value to bear. The rocky soil, Jesus says, describes those who can’t deal with the problems of life. When the going gets tough, they go into retreat, often falling back on old habits, and seem willing to muddle along with whatever harvest they can get. They depend on the belief that something is better than nothing.

And then there’s the thorny soil. Painful to deal with, for sure. We have this ornamental quince bush in our garden – it has very beautiful flowers for about one week, and the rest of the year it’s a thorny, overgrown mess. Every year, we trim it back and try to dig it out, with limited success. We’ve decided it would take dynamite to accomplish the goal. The same is true for the thornier issues of our lives. We have to be vigilant in keeping our thorny faith practices under control and pruned back. Our overcrowded lives often choke out the possibility of anything new and life-giving taking hold. Maybe that’s one of the biggest challenges we continue to face during COVID time. We miss our overscheduled, multi-focused lives. More than ever, we realize that we don’t know exactly how to put in the work to make our lives beds of good, workable soil.

What does it take to get good soil? I wish that it was just as easy as going to the garden center and buying bags labeled “garden soil.” It’s not. Every fall, we clear away the dead and dying plants and weeds from our garden, then turn the soil for the winter. And every spring we add compost, peat moss, and additional nutrients, like calcium, to make an ideal growing environment for the things we want to grow. It takes dedicated work. The same is true with our faith lives. We have pay attention to the impediments to a fruitful faith and be willing to do the work of removing or pruning them so that the goodness of our character can grow. Discipleship practices of all kinds help deepen our faith, allowing us to grow and change, and becoming more Christ-like in the process. Sometimes that even means changing our minds about things we were once certain of.

We must think about what kind of soil we are for God’s garden. Our work as people of faith is to prepare our lives, just like we would prepare good soil for growing. And it’s really hard work. We can easily be tricked into believing that the Kingdom of God must be fought for with the power that the world brings to the fight. But God gave us a different set of tools and asks us to use our fruit to bring the world up to God’s standards. From Galatians 5: 22-23, “But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. Against such things, there is no law.”

We should not give up hope for the times when it’s too overwhelming or difficult to keep our soil in tip-top condition. Much of our hope comes in knowing that seeds will grow in remarkable places. Think about all the dandelions that are persisting in the cracks of your sidewalks, and the tenacious nature of bulbs that come back every spring, often in numbers greater than you planted years before. These tenacious plants offer signs that God will find a way to grow in us, even when we feel unable or unworthy to be what is needed for the task at hand.

Finally, the Sower is the last necessary component in building the Kingdom of God. And for me, this is the place where I ask myself the most fundamental questions about how I am serving God and the world. The parable says that the sower went out to sow. Being present is the first step in the journey. Yes, it’s a challenge when we spend a lot of time separated from others, but being with people doesn’t necessarily mean being close enough to take their hand. Being present is also about letting our hearts see the needs of others and do what we can to make life better.

It also says that he sowed seed generously. He didn’t have preconceived notions about what soil deserved the seed and what soil didn’t. To reach all of the fertile ground, he spread the soil into potentially problematic places, just to make sure that every possibility was covered. How are we doing with that? Do we ration our love, our care, our service, because we want to make sure that none of our efforts will be wasted? Or are we more afraid of failure than we are of trying new, crazy ways of loving people?

As a military family member and as a clergy person, this parable also reminds me that the sower planted the seed and then left. The sower wasn’t the one who harvested. For me, this is great news. I often do not see the fruit of my labor. And while others may attribute a piece of their faith story to me, I am happy that God has mostly relieved me of defining my value as a teacher or preacher or friend by the success of my interactions with people. I just keep sowing.

We are planting seeds wherever we go. And not just in church… but in scouting, and volunteering with the Red Cross or the SCSC… In the professional teaching you do in our schools and in the necessary teaching you do with your kids in online learning… In your work as a military member, civilian, or contractor. No matter what your age or level of faith maturity, your seeds are planted in the friendships you grow, and in the random interactions with people every day. The goal is for people to feel valued and seen… kindness and generosity are the hallmarks of our interactions. Often the most satisfying result is to know that we just did our best.

In the craziness and difficulties of the world today, we often ask, “Where is God?” The simple answer is that God is right here, with us in our pain, our joys, our grieving and feeling righteous anger with us. “Why doesn’t God do something about the terrible things that are happening?” This is the more difficult question. I close today with a quote from Teresa of Avila, a 16th-century Spanish nun and mystic, that I’m sure I have used before but which seems to answer the question for me and directly relates to our parable for today.

Christ has no body now but yours. No hands, no feet on earth but yours. Yours are the eyes through which he looks compassion on this world. Yours are the feet with which he walks to do good. Yours are the hands through which he blesses all the world. Yours are the hands, yours are the feet, yours are the eyes, you are his body. Christ has no body now on earth but yours.

Be the seed… be the soil… be the sower – be the body of Christ in the world… today and every day.  Amen.

Let us pray:

Gracious Lord, we give thanks that you have shown remarkable determination to be in relationship with us. We thank you for your presence during our times of worship, prayer, and praise. Especially, we thank you for your nearness to us during the course of our lives, during good days and bad. Assured of your never-ending love for us, we face the future with confidence that you will never let us go, that you will continue to hold us and your love, keeping us close to you no matter what tomorrow may bring. In life, and death, and life beyond death, we are yours. Amen.[ii]

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[i] Holly Hearon, Commentary on Matthew 13:1-9, 18-23, for July 12, 2020, www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=4510

[ii] Will Willimon, Pulpit Resource, Vol. 48, No. 3, Year A, “Honesty and Hope”, July 12, 2020.

Sermon - The Freedom of Bearing Our Burdens Well - Proper 9A

Proper 9A – 5^th Sunday after Pentecost                               July 5, 2020

Matthew 11:16-19, 25-30, Romans 7:15-25a       Panzer Liturgical Service

If you ask an American to give one word to describe what we value most, many would say, “Freedom.” It’s actually a bit of a battle cry these days. People want freedom… freedom to go wherever they want… freedom to not wear a mask if they don’t want to … freedom to try to resurrect a flawed past, hiding in the shadow of heritage … freedom to reject a different view of history or the experiences of others that don’t match our own. Our friends at Merriam-Webster define freedom like this:

a : the absence of necessity, coercion, or constraint in choice or action

b : liberation from slavery or restraint or from the power of another: independence

c : the quality or state of being exempt or released usually from something onerous

d : unrestricted use[i]

It’s in the title of our 4^th of July holiday – Independence Day. The day we declared ourselves liberated from the tyranny of British taxation and rule… a lot of people died in the process of making our imperfect dreams of a representative democracy come true. And in many ways, it got us to where we are today, because there’s a little place in each of us that wants to believe that my needs, desires, and wants are the most important thing in the world, and everyone else comes second.

If you have read the passage from Romans out loud, I’ll bet you found it as confusing as I did. As I teased out the verses, much like one would try to unknot a poorly wound hank of yarn, I saw how Paul put his finger on the problem of the human condition. Our very humanness gets us into trouble. We know what the right things are… we are called to love God and neighbor in all we do. But we often act to meet our own desires first, even when we know that it’s not in anyone’s best interest. We like the idea of rules and law to make an orderly life; but we like it better for others, so we look for ways to circumvent the very restrictions that are meant to keep everyone safe.

We have to remember that Jesus is speaking to a particular crowd. Many of the early Christians were still practicing Jews, and being Jewish was ALL about the law. For the Jews of Jesus’ day, the rules were not just the focus of religious practice, but became the very thing being worshiped. Even under Roman rule, the practice of the Jewish religion became enculturated, seeping into how everyone lived – how they ate, how they dressed, how they worked, and how they played. Being a Jew wasn’t just about what you believed about God or worshiped on the Sabbath – it was infused into the practices on every minute of the day. And the people who did not conform were seen as less than, often shunned and abused in the process.

When Jesus began his ministry, he was admired for his bold teaching, for the miracles that he performed, and the large crowds that followed him. But it didn’t take long for his message to because less palatable. Today’s gospel shows one Jesus’ most human moments of Matthew’s gospel. Jesus, recognizing the hypocrisy of the Jewish leaders and the violence that stemmed from it, is frustrated and angry as he speaks to them. He says, your faith sounds like a band that has come together to play, but they can’t figure if they are playing at a wedding or a funeral, and instead of music there is only noise.

When we look at the ministries of John and Jesus, we see mirror opposites, but with similar outcomes. Like Jesus’ cousin John, things start well and end poorly. John’s ministry was very different from Jesus’. John lived an austere lifestyle and eventually, people turned him away because he didn’t accept their invitations to wine and dine. Jesus partied, but not with the right people… he ate with sinners and tax collectors. Many people rejected Jesus for his welcoming nature; others rejected the message he preached as too simple and common. Caught up in the perfection of practicing the law, many were unable to see the good news unfolding before their very eyes.

If we are looking for a savior who will take away all of our problems and responsibilities, then Jesus is not the messiah for us. Instead, our biggest challenge is to see that when Jesus takes away the burden of sin in our lives, he places new burdens on our shoulders.

We live in a culture that extols liberation, freedom, and independence. And yet God has created us for connection, relationship, and interdependence. Jesus comes to us, not offering us complete independence, but a new set of dependencies whereby we can be truly free.

My mom is 86 and lives in a skilled nursing center in SC. Over the four years since my dad died, her physical health has remained fairly strong, but it has gradually become evident that she needed round-the-clock supervision. We are lucky because early on, my parents chose a senior community that would allow for step-up care in a place where people know her and love her, and they had the means to pay for it. And while the COVID crisis has taken away many things, it has also drawn me closer to my siblings and their families. Instead of connecting randomly, we have scheduled meetings to make decisions together about her care, and to support one another as we deal with our own family, health, and work issues.

We hear the word burden and think of them as something negative. Perhaps we have turned an important corner when we realize that our burdens can also bring us joy as we work with others to find solutions to problems and to celebrate the gifts and graces we bring to the table. More than ever, it seems that being a burden to one another is actually what it means to be a family, blood-related or not. In John’s gospel, Jesus tells his disciples: “My command is this: Love each other as I have loved you. Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.” That’s the Christian life in a nutshell.

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x

Jesus doesn’t call us to be a group of individuals with like-minded goals and aspirations in order to our own needs met. No, Jesus calls us to be a family, where we take on the burdens of one another without worrying about the inconveniences that may come. When we look deep inside our own hearts, we realize that love teaches us that we are never more human than we are when we gladly take on the burdens of other people, friends or family, strangers or enemies. In fact, when we avoid or reject taking on those responsibilities, we are in fact rejecting ourselves as God created us to be.

In my first church, there was this lovely German couple. They had immigrated to the US in the mid-1950s. He lost a leg on the Russian front in 1943 and she spent time as a governess in England. He went to college and became a chemical engineer. She became a teacher. And he went to work for Bayer, eventually coming to work in the US and attaining US citizenship. One Sunday in November, Erika invited me to come for tea and stollen on Monday afternoon. She told me their whole life story – I was there for hours… I think we ate the whole loaf of bread.

When her husband came home that afternoon, he shared his version of the story, and talked of how lucky he was that his leg was blown off because he was sent home to recuperate. He believed that if that had not happened, he would have died in battle and never made it back to marry Erika and start their family together.

Later that week, George went in to wake Erika after her afternoon nap. Sometime in the last few hours, she had peacefully died. Her funeral was a wonderful celebration, and I gave thanks to God and the family that I had gotten to spend that day with her so that I could really talk about her life in a deep and meaningful way.

Just a few months later, another older man in our church was diagnosed with a tumor in his femur. He was a widower and decided that this was just his time to go. No surgery. No treatment. He couldn’t see how he could possibly live a full life without his leg. On the way home, I remembered George talking about losing his leg, so I called him and asked him to visit Bob in the hospital.

And a few days late, Bob called and asked me to come and pray with him before his surgery and to sit with George until he got back to his room. And when I asked George what happened to change Bob’s mind, he told me, I listened to him talk, and then I rolled up my pants, took off my leg and said, “Losing that leg of yours will save your life… I know it saved mine.”

Real love wakes us up to the needs of others, often requiring a total reordering of our days, our years, even our lives. But the good news is this – we are really at our best as we respond to such unchosen, undecided, unplanned demands, interruptions and encumbrances. Because honestly, if we were to say that our lives are totally free of the bothers and burdens of other people, it’s just is another way of saying, “I am lonely. I have no better purpose for my life than me.” And ultimately that is no life at all.

The longer I live a Christian life and teach and preach and work and play with other people, the more convinced I am that we cannot do this faith thing alone. We are called to community. We are called to care for one another. And once that becomes a defining principle for us, then our burdens get redefined: they become our blessings. And we welcome them because they are the very things that give our lives real meaning.

And for this we give thanks!  Amen.

Prayer: Lord Jesus, we give thanks that you created us for fellowship with you and with our fellow human beings. In your wisdom, you made us to be those who long for connection and community. Preserve us, O Lord, from a desire for independence from you or from our sisters and brothers. Save us from the lure of solitariness. Give us the grace to see the claims of our fellow human beings as a call from you to be connected to and responsible for those in need. Strengthen us as we attempt to love you by loving our neighbor, particularly our neighbor in need. Help each of us, in our times of need, graciously to receive help from others and to see their help as a sign of your love at work in the world. Amen.

This sermon and prayer were resourced from the sermons and writings of Will Willimon as found in Pulpit Resource, Vol. 48, No. 3, Year A. “The Blessedness of Being a Burden,” 2020.