Sunday, October 31, 2021

Sermon - Devotion (Proper 26B) Reformation Sunday

23rd Sunday After Pentecost (26B)                           October 31, 2021
Ruth 1: 1‑ 18, Mark 12:28-34                      Panzer Liturgical Service

Once upon a time, there was a famine in the land, in Bethlehem, and a young family, husband, wife, and two sons went to the land of Moab, to find food. Soon after they arrived, the father died, and because the boys had begun to settle in, and because a widow with two sons would want to be someplace safe and comfortable until her sons grew up to take care of her, they stayed in Moab. And as sons will be sons, they each fell in love and married local girls. Here is where we expect the ending to come, "…and they lived happily ever after."

But this story does not have the ending we expect. After ten years in Moab, the two sons died. And now the three women are left to decide what to do since there is no one left to take care of them. It’s not that these women were without talent. Women were wives and mothers, household administrators, weavers, cooks, and teachers, they cared for people in their society. But we must remember that in Biblical times, women's authority was only valid within the context of family, so without any male relatives nearby, they were in a bit of trouble. Their only legitimate choice was to return to their own families and seek new marriages so their places in society could be re-established.

Naomi, the matriarch, informed her daughters-in-law that she would be returning to Bethlehem, even though the famine continued there, also. She encouraged them to return to their parents’ households to find new husbands. Both argued, claiming loyalty to their mother‑by‑marriage. But again, Naomi released them from their bond to her and prepared to return to Bethlehem alone. And so Orpha went back to her home, and we are left with the hope that she had a good life, for we do not hear of her again.

Ruth, however, clung to Naomi. Now it important to understand that the word "clung" is the same word used in the creation story to talk about the uniting of a man and woman in what we think of today as marriage. Clung, ‑‑ made into one flesh ‑‑ unwilling to be parted. With these words, Ruth commits herself to Naomi, using language we only hear occasionally. For those of us who are married, they are very familiar and reminiscent of the lives that we have led.

"Do not ask me to leave you! Let me go with you. Wherever you go, I will go; Where you live, I will live; your people will be my people; you God will be my God. Wherever you die, I will die and there I will be buried." And then the writer states, "When Naomi saw that Ruth was determined to go with her, she said nothing more. So, the two of them went on..."

When we hear this passage, we think of weddings and reflect on promises made by persons in love and committed to a future together. But really, this story is about something bigger than marriage. It reaches out and shows us what it is like to commit ourselves to someone else – anyone other than ourselves. Here, Ruth is willing to leave everything that she has known, her friends and family and her way of life, to go with Naomi to a foreign country, in commitment to a God she only knows through someone else’s relationship with the Divine.

Think about what that must have been like - to throw her lot in with this widow, to another famine-stricken country, not knowing how they would be supported, and assuming she would never see home again? Why would she choose that life? What influenced her to take that kind of risk to show that kind of devotion, ‑ to this woman who was not even her mother?

First, there seems to be a deep well of love between all three of these women. They had endured a difficult time together, with sons and husbands dying, and were drawn together by both grief and love. Secondly, we do not know what there was for Ruth to return to at home. Maybe there were other daughters, all looking for husbands. Maybe her parents were dead. We do not know. But even under the worst of circumstances, it is hard to imagine the depth of devotion that led Ruth to follow Naomi to Bethlehem.

What we do know is found at the end in Ruth's impassioned speech. "Your God will be my God." For these long years, Naomi has maintained her Jewish faith and practice of Jewish customs, and these have undoubtedly influenced Ruth. It is almost as if Ruth is saying, “I have seen your God through your eyes, and now I will see him through mine. I am willing to follow you, and to trust that your God will see us through this time."

But I feel like there is another reason for this willingness to embrace the unknown. We read her story, and from the very beginning know that something important is going to happen here because this family came from Bethlehem. As we think about the work of the Holy Spirit, from the events of creation to the Day of Pentecost and beyond, we see the Spirit move people to make choices and go places they never would have chosen for themselves. Maybe that has happened to you. Have you found yourself making choices, not based on your preformed plan, but reacting to things that pull you outside of yourself? Some of our best work for the Kingdom of God happens when we let go and let God. The same Spirit that gave life to the human formed from clay and a group of grieving disciples also breathes life into us. And often, we make choices, go places, and take risks that best be understood as God-inspired.

Today, we celebrate the 504th anniversary of Martin Luther’s dramatic declaration of protest against the actions of the Pope and Church in Rome. A biblical theologian and local pastor, he knew that the burdens his parishioners were under to satisfy the Church’s requirements so that they could be certain of their salvation and ultimate forgiveness in the eyes of God. He knew that something needed to be done, but he also knew taking on the establishment was a risk. Even so, in his 95 Theses, he wanted to put power back into the hands of the people.

If you ever get a chance to look at the list, you’ll see that the first three points were on the importance of families reading the bible at home. The next eleven were questions about the power of the Pope to develop theological dogmas that were without biblical foundation – he specifically denounced the doctrine of purgatory, spoke out against the corruption of the clergy, and clarified the doctrine of free grace and forgiveness, on which he would write extensively later in his ministry.

And then what followed was a detailed discussion on why the selling of indulgences, which required parishioners to pay for masses to “assure” their or their loved ones’ entry into heaven, was bad… this covered points 15-82 in the document. And while we think of this document as Luther’s red line in the sand, his tone was more questioning than accusing… more academic than pastoral. And people listened and read his questions for themselves. With his actions, he earned ex-communication, but fanned the flames of the smoldering questions being asked all over Europe – what does it mean to have faith in Jesus Christ? And the Church has never been the same.

It’s clear that Martin Luther, while a rebel, stands on the shoulders of preachers and theologians who preceded him. This protest reboot of Christianity began because faithful people saw how far the Church had strayed from the teachings of Jesus. They saw the value of reading scripture themselves instead of relying on a priest for interpretation. Even before Luther, John Wycliffe in England, and Jan Hus in what is now the Czech Republic translated the scripture into the languages of their people and paid the price with their lives.

It isn’t clear that Luther wanted to leave the Roman Catholic Church – he just wanted re-formation – he was hitting the reset button, to bring people back to the basics of faith, the essence of the biblical story, and teachings and example of Jesus Christ. He wanted the church to return to the core of the Gospel message, to keep the main thing the main thing: Love God – Love Your Neighbor.

As I was preparing for the week, I felt like Luther’s work offers us a bridge between the story of Ruth and Jesus’ encounter with the scribe. People were always asking Jesus questions – to know him better, to gain insight into his perspective of God, and yes, sometimes to trip him up. “What is the greatest commandment?” This question is proposed in each of the synoptic gospels, but each in a different context.

This week, we hear the question from a scribe and get Jesus’ most straightforward response. This man’s job would have been to transcribe the scrolls of scripture, and also to interpret the Law to the people in his community – how much more could he be immersed in the Law than to write it every day? He would then use his understanding of the law to settle disputes and instruct people’s behavior. It’s no wonder that having heard about Jesus, he might come by to hear him speak, and ask a question that would have meaning in both his personal and professional life.

The simple message is often the hardest to follow. Love God. Love our neighbor… what does that look like for us? This love that Jesus speaks of is embodied in the way he lived, in the way he encountered others throughout the gospel stories. Jesus never took the easy way out. His experience of love was costly, costing him his life on earth. But his resurrection changed everything. Love won the battle and became our rally cry. So simple, and yet so hard.

Love requires a lot of us. Like Ruth, it may steer us onto a different path to life and responsibility that we never imagined for ourselves. Sometimes we will be hurt by our unwillingness to let love go. But Jesus reminds us that this life is worth every battle and every joy. Love brings us close to the Kingdom of God. And it’s the most important gift we can give or receive.

If we were to skip to the end of Ruth's story, we would find out that there was an important reason that this Moabite woman was called to Bethlehem in the land of Judah... a reason that Naomi went to Moab and then returned home. After an intense and complicated series of events, Naomi manages to introduce Ruth to Boaz, a prominent member of Bethlehem society, and the relative who now had responsibility for Naomi’s care. And when Ruth and Boaz were married, they had a son, Obed. And Obed had a son Jesse, and Jesse had a son David, and eventually, through the generations, David had a son Jesus. Ruth was called be a mother of the faith, and a mother of the faithful, from a long way away.

How many times is God calling us to something, and yet we are unwilling, or afraid, or not listening closely enough to hear God's call? Ruth reminds us that God calls all kinds of people to serve in his kingdom. And the grace which comes and goes before us prepares us and the world for God’s kingdom to come.

The path that we follow in response to God’s call is filled with twists and turns. Perhaps these lessons teach us that while we may not have control of our circumstances, we do have control over how we behave. Jesus summarizes the most basic understandings of the Law into two main tasks. Love God – Love others. This is the main thing.

Christ's life provides that kind of witness to us. On Tuesday, at the Garrison-wide Service of Remembrance, and next Sunday in our regular worship, we will remember the lives of the saints – those who have provided a witness and a template for how we can be pointed toward and into new directions in faith.

All we have to realize is this: God has to come first. We may claim devotion to many things, to wives and husbands, to family, to friends, to our careers, to our countries, to sports... the possibilities are endless. But our devotion has got to be more than cheering like crazy when things are going well, and bored indifference or even hostility when things are not. If we place our devotion to God first, then all of the other things will fall into their proper places.

Ruth heard a word in her heart, through her relationship with Naomi and her son, that led her to a new land, a new marriage relationship, and a new relationship with God. Jesus gave the scribe the answer that he already knew. The greatest commandment is not found in the minutia of 616 rules and regulations. The Law is grounded in something much more important and life-giving. If we love God and love our neighbor, everything will fall into place.

May we, like Ruth, be willing to follow wherever God calls… and let us always live that life with love as our guiding light.

 Peace, Deb

(c) Deb Luther Teagan, October 2021

 



Sunday, October 24, 2021

Sermon - It’s not just about seeing again… (Proper 25B)

 22rd Sunday after Pentecost (25B)                                                 October 24, 2021

MARK 10:46-52, JOB 42:1-6, 10-17                       Panzer Liturgical Congregation

To me, it’s like we are at the place in the gospel of Mark where everything is a rerun. Have we heard this story before? Have the names been changed to protect the innocent? Or is this just another time for Mark to drive home the point that the disciples, Jesus’ most trusted followers, still don’t get it? If this was a multiple-choice test, I’d pick D – all of the above.

So, what do we know that makes this week distinct? Well, first, even though we are in October, this scene with Jesus takes place just before the last journey into Jerusalem and Jesus’ Holy Week experience. He has traveled far and wide – from the far north in Caesarea Philippi, where he spoke about the need for the Messiah to suffer and die, all the way down the Jordan River to Jericho, which is just a brief stop and steep climb to Jerusalem.

Jericho is an important stop on this journey. It is a rich oasis surrounded by desert. Prehistoric people have been living there for over 10,000 years, making it one of the oldest inhabited cities in the world. It was the first place the Israelites visited after entering the Promised Land, and in the time of Jesus, King Herod had built a palace retreat there. If you visit the important religious cities of Israel, Jericho will certainly be on your list. Not only can you see the Israelite settlement and the palace of Herod, but you can also wander over to a very old tree, where Zacchaeus reported;y climbed up to see Jesus, inviting him for the dinner, then giving away his fortune to follow Jesus’ request.

In Mark’s account, we don’t meet Zacchaeus, but instead meet a much less impressive fellow, a blind man named Bartimaeus (which simply means “the son of Timaeus”). He is begging by the road leading out of town, as people pass by on their way to Jerusalem. It shouldn’t come to any surprise that beggars have the same reputation in Jesus’ day that they do today. They get pitied, or blamed, or shunned, but mostly ignored. He cries out to Jesus, who does not seem to respond to him at first. The disciples try to shush him – they really think they are helping by keeping people they see as undesirable away from Jesus. But at this interaction, Jesus listens.

If we read carefully, we see Jesus changing the whole scene. To those who are trying to silence Bartimaeus, Jesus rebukes them. He says, “Call him here.” Interestingly, it’s not a call to help the blind man up, or for the disciples to bring him to Jesus. No, it’s a scene when Jesus is calling Bartimaeus to come to him. Once again, Jesus is calling someone to himself.

This is one of the places where the words of the translator can really make or break the ways we understand the biblical turning point. In the NIV, they call out to Bartimaeus, “Cheer up,” In the NRSV the conversation starts with, “Take heart – in the CEB “be encouraged” – The Message – “get up, it’s your lucky day.” And while it’s easy to think that getting his sight back would be the best thing to ever happen to the man, the turn of events is about something much bigger. In reality, the disciples are saying, “Jesus is calling you – your life will never be the same.”

The story then says that Bartimaeus “threw off his cloak.” Why is that important? This clock might have been one of the few things he owned. It kept him dry and warm and may have provided the best layer of protection he could have. And when Jesus called, he just tossed aside and followed Jesus’ voice. It sounds like he didn’t want anything slowing or weighing him down.

Then Jesus asks Bartimaeus the ultimate question: “What do you want me to do for you?” Maybe he didn’t want to assume, or he wanted Bartimaeus to think deeper than his immediate need. This is itself an interesting lesson in what it means to hear Jesus’ call. I’ll bet each of us has something that we need to cast off so that we can get up and get closer to Jesus. This is exactly the question that this passage asks of us. Jesus doesn’t just want to know what our superficial needs are. He wants to know our deep desires… our ultimate needs… what will give us profound satisfaction and lasting joy.

Yes, Jesus gives Bartimaeus sight. It must have been a staggering moment – a total turnaround. But it wasn’t just that the man could now see. It’s also that that the first thing he saw was Jesus’ face. This wasn’t a man who dropped a few coins in his hand or handed him a little food. This was the man who made him whole. Jesus saw him as a human being, capable and worthy to be called.

And we know this because Jesus doesn’t send him on his way. No, once the healing is acknowledged, this last person to be healed in Mark’s story does something quite remarkable. He didn’t go home, or throw a party, or even get a job. No. Mark says, “He followed Jesus along the road.” He followed him to Jerusalem. He is a witness at Palm Sunday and Holy Week. And in his first week of seeing, he saw Jesus crucified – the one who’d loved, healed, and called him, died right before his eyes. But that’s what Jesus called him to do... And it’s what we are called to do, too.[i]

There are many questions that we can consider when we hear the story of this calling and healing. Are we like the disciples, trying to protect ourselves (and Jesus) from the reality of the world around us? Are we looking to stay the course, follow our prescribed schedules, keeping our faith journeys neat and orderly? Or do we have flashes of inspiration where we are like Bartimaeus, asking for what seems impossible and willing to take a perilous faith journey, even though we know that it might not come out well in the end?

Bartimaeus obviously knew who Jesus was. Jesus had developed quite a following, and even though this seems to be the only incident of note on this visit to Jericho, the blind man knew that one word from Jesus would change everything. And not only did Bartimaeus know of Jesus’ signs and wonders, but he also had probably heard what Jesus said about his ministry.

Some say that Jesus predicted his own death. But let’s not look at it that way. Instead, let’s consider that a part of Jesus’ mission statement. Throughout his ministry, Jesus was continuously redefining what being the Messiah was all about. He was redefining power, greatness, and honor. He reframed everything people thought they knew about God, and God’s mission in the world. And Bartimaeus still followed him.

That begs the question for each of us – do we have any of Bartimaeus in us? Are we willing to follow Jesus, knowing that there will be as many ups as downs? Are we content to settle into our comfort? Or are we willing to take a chance out in the world, being a prophetic voice and agents of change and justice?

Some people expect that a sermon is something that is supposed to provide answers. But I often end up with more questions than answers when I have finished my study for the week. I’m going to leave some of them here for you.

The first batch of questions – these are the deep philosophical questions we often avoid asking: Do we recognize what our spiritual blind spots are? What are the things that get in the way – that blind us, to who Jesus is asking us to be? Are we willing to see ourselves like Bartimaeus, in need of having our sight restored?

The second batch – these are more practical in nature: How often do we overlook the important moments of life in favor of what we think should be important? DOd we see God in the everyday moments of life? Do we consider the possibility that the encounters we have with people out and about in everyday life are the important parts of our spiritual journeys?  A small realization for me - If nothing else, this story reminds us that life happens in the “pit stops” and sometimes the most inconvenient interruption to our routines can be transformative and life-changing for everyone.

Lastly, the questions about “what next?” Are we willing to leave our version of Jericho? Can we be brave enough to leave the relative safety and security of the status quo for the unknown trials, betrayal, persecutions, and agony of whatever our Jerusalem looks like today? Jericho is bad, but at least we know what to expect.

It is very difficult to leave a known bad situation for an unknown calling. Sometimes that means physically moving to a place you never thought you’d live or to a life that you never expected for yourself. Sometimes that means staying put, but speaking out in support of people who may not be considered with the highest regard, or speaking in favor or against positions that put us outside the places where we are most comfortable.[ii]

Did you notice the word that Bartimaeus used when asking Jesus for help? “Have mercy on me,” he said. The word mercy is important here. The English word mercy is translated from the Greek word is eleĊ, which comes from the Hebrew word Hesed. This speaks of steadfast love and covenant loyalty. This is the evidence we have that Bartimaeus didn’t just want his sight back – he wanted to be part of something bigger and better[iii]. Perhaps Mark was intentional about bringing a formerly blind man into the fold as another way of reminding us that things will be different in the realm of God.

This is not just a story about the restoration of physical sight, but spiritual sight as well. If we leave here today with nothing else to think about it, it would be this variation on a theme: How are we blind to God’s presence? Why do we so often miss what God is doing in our midst? Why can’t we recognize a new move on God’s part to introduce or expand the realm of God? Why do we get stuck in ruts of our own making that keep us from engaging in the work of God?

I imagine at this time was one of great anxiety for everyone surrounding Jesus. They were holding out hope, but soon it would be very evident that Jesus was a very different kind of Messiah. He didn’t just want to restore something old. He wanted to usher in something totally new.

Perhaps much of the tension and anxiety in the world today fall into this same category. We see the world around us changing, and while we want to figure out how to make it all like it was before, perhaps Jesus is asking us to be brave like Bartimaeus, to see the world with new eyes, throw off our cloaks, and be a part of this brave new world.[iv]

We close today with a favorite hymn (How Firm a Foundation). It promises that we are not alone as we walk into the world that Jesus wants us to change. Hear these words and know that you are not alone.

Amen.

Peace, Deb

(c) Deb Luther Teagan, October 2021



[i] James Howell, “What can we say October 24?” http://jameshowellsweeklypreachingnotions.blogspot.com/

[ii] Robb McCoy and Erik Fistler, Proper 25B, https://www.pulpitfiction.com/notes/proper25b/#Mark10%3A46-52=

[iii] Ron Allen and Clark Williamson, Preaching the Gospels without Blaming the Jews, p. 160

[iv] Bob Cornwall, Sight Restored, https://www.bobcornwall.com/2021/10/sight-restored-lectionary-reflection.html

Sunday, October 10, 2021

Sermon - The cost of following Jesus (Proper 23B)

20th Sunday after Pentecost (23B)                                       October 10, 2021
Mark 10:17-31                                                         Panzer Liturgical Service

Some of the most memorable lessons we learn in life come from the things we get wrong. I was a science major in my undergraduate degree… there were right answers and wrong answers – you can’t fake your way through diagraming the molecule for glucose or cholesterol. But my master’s degree is as much philosophical as it is factual. I had a church history professor who would let us take notes into our midterm and final exams… don’t just spout off dates, he said. Prove to me that you can use what we’ve read and talked about… which is why I had three hours to write on the single exam question: compare and contrast the theological understandings of Luther, Wesley, Calvin, and Thomas Cranmer… or something like that. At the after-exam lunch discussion, I couldn’t remember the things I got right, but I was quick to recognize the parts I got wrong. I learned an important lesson – even wrong answers can teach us important things.

This week we hear Jesus’ encounter with another bystander. The man runs up to Jesus before he and his disciples were departing to another place and asks a question – Good teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life? This question doesn’t seem so far away from the question that many of us have heard – how do we get to heaven – but Jesus is once again unwilling to share a short, pithy answer.

Jesus seems a little annoyed – he asks, “Why do you call me good? Don’t you know that only God is good?” … Jesus wasn’t into false flattery. And then he tells the man to follow the commandments. But the man volleys back – “Oh, I’ve done that since I was a kid.” Now, Jesus’ response could have gone in several directions… he could have dismissed him and sent him on his way. He could have queried him – please tell me what that looks like for you. But the text tells us something important about Jesus’ response. It says, “Jesus, looking at him, love him and replied…” Was it the man’s eagerness in his response? We don’t know. But what Jesus said next changed the encounter from one of delight to disappointment.

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." Jesus was giving this man the inside scoop. Inheriting eternal life is not about checking things off a list. It’s about turning everything – even your whole life – over to God. No surprise here – this is not the answer the man was expecting… Shocked and grieving he walked away – giving up his many possessions and following this nomadic little tribe – that was a bridge too far.

We don’t know why Jesus asked the man to do this. We don’t know if this was something he regularly addressed or if there was something particular about this man. Reading on, it doesn’t seem like Jesus is surprised by his response. He turns around and speaks to the disciples and followers gathered around. Jesus says something that strikes fear in us today, “It’s hard for the rich to enter the Kingdom of God.” BTW, this appears to be the only instance where Jesus invites someone to join and the person refuses. Apparently. the rich man learned a lesson particular to him – Jesus asks a price that is too high. But the real students here are the disciples, and by extension, us.

This seems to blow the disciples out of the water, and someone asks, “Then who will be saved, if not them?” Jesus’ reply: Humans cannot work their way into the Kingdom – but God – well, God can do anything.” Peter, always wanting to get in another word, protests – Hey, Jesus, you can’t be talking about us – we’ve left everything to follow you. And then Jesus says a confusing thing: Whatever you’ve left in this world will be returned to 100-fold in the future – and in the end, eternal life. “Don’t worry,” he says, “All of this is not for nothing. It will be better than OK in the end.”

All over, preachers are attempting to preach this text in a way that doesn’t alienate their givers, just as they are building their budgets for the next year. Some of using guilt to part people with their money. Others are talking about the necessity of money to provide opportunities for discipleship. When I read this text, I don’t feel like Jesus is trying to shame this man into parting with his wealth. No, I think Jesus is trying to tell him that things can sometimes separate us from the fullness of a life of faith.[i]

Like many of you, I left a lot behind – I’ve changed careers, married into a military family, where for 22 years I picked up and followed the whims of the Air Force. I’ve learned that the Dream Sheet for future assignments can get your hopes up by showing you all the possibilities, only to dash them on the rocks… “You’re going to Grand Forks in January – don’t worry - it’s the perfect time to move there.” And while those AF moves didn’t mean I gave up my career, it certainly doesn’t look anything like what I expected it to. It’s taken me about 20 years to not just be OK with that, but grateful for all the unexpected ways ministry has unfolded before me.

That being said, we need to realize that with the joy of following Jesus, there will also be hardships. Yes, Jesus can fix our lives, but often in ways that are more painful than we expect. The rich man thought about what Jesus was asking and decided it wasn’t worth the risk. At least he was honest.

One of the tragedies in the Christian community today is people who gloss over the difficulties that following Jesus will bring to our lives. We will not just be asked to part with our money and our stuff, but also to be in relationship with all the people that Jesus loves – people our society would often rather forget.[ii]

Jesus' ministry was all about turning life upside down – keeping people unbalanced enough to have to keep paying attention. Jesus did that in person and keeps doing that today. Maybe we aren’t reminded enough that this life will take a toll on us. And either we will become more like him or we won’t. And we never know when we will be asked to make the choices that Jesus asks us to make.

In 2006, a 32-year-old man walked into a one-room schoolhouse in an Amish community outside Lancaster, PA. He separated the boys and sent them away, and because he was mad at God, began shooting the 10 girls who were left behind. The shooter killed himself as authorities responded. Five girls survived, but the entire community was racked with grief.

In a nearby town, Terri Roberts grieved for a whole different reason. Her son, Charlie, was the killer. Not only was he also dead, but she and her husband were overwhelmed with guilt for what their son had done. They prepared to bury their son in secret. They immediately decided to leave the community so that their presence would not be a reminder to the families left behind.

But the night after the shooting, members of the Amish community visited the Roberts’ house and told them, “We don’t want to you leave – your grief is just as real and valid as ours.” “We will forgive you,” an Amish neighbor told the father of the gunman.  Over half of the mourners at the gunman’s funeral were members of the Amish community.  His wife and children were overwhelmed by the kindness model by the Amish community and reflected in other surround church families.

Assistance and prayers poured in from around the world. A writer from the local paper described it this way: “The modern community held fundraisers to help pay for the medical costs of the injured and the funerals of the dead... The local, state, national and international community raised over $4 million. The Amish community used some of the money to establish the Roberts Family Fund, which helps support Robert’s widow and three children.

When asked why they would respond this way, their spokesperson responded: “The Amish culture closely follows the teachings of Jesus, who taught his followers to forgive one another, to place the needs of others before themselves, and to rest in the knowledge that God is still in control and can bring good out of any situation. Love and compassion toward others are to be life’s theme. Vengeance and revenge are to be left to God.”[iii]

Terri Roberts didn’t let that be the end. When it became evident that one of the shooting victims had sustained injuries that would require individualized care, she volunteered to be one of her people. And for many years, the parents of this young woman welcomed Terri in to help care for their daughter – to be a part of the most intimate pain of their family – not as a punishment, but as a shared burden of forgiveness.[iv]

How many of us could stand in their shoes and do what they have done?  I honestly do not know.  But their example, while odd and newsworthy to many, is a tremendous witness.  I want to be like them when I am confronted with evil and pain.  I want to remember that death is not the end of life, but the beginning of eternity with Jesus and his Father, and with everyone who has gone to be with them before me.  I want to get to that place in my life where I can say, “I forgive,” and mean it.

We often relate to bible stories within our own stories.  We ask the question, “What does this mean to me?”  But it occurs to me that we can also ask, “What does this mean for all of us together?”  Another way to ask the question would be “What does it mean to be the church?”  Is it about this building, the organ, having plenty of hymnals, and people to sing from them?  Is it about a growing budget and large staff?  

Or does it mean being a faithful church, deliberate in mission and ministry, serving all of God's people, and loving those who are different?  The two are not mutually exclusive (at least I hope they’re not), but the question of motive is the same for our church as it was for rich man and the disciples talking to Jesus.  Do we want to be recognized and served, or do we want to know Jesus as Lord and follow him, serving others along the way?

The rich man asked Jesus what he had to do for eternal life. Jesus told him to love God and his neighbor.  “This I have done,” the man said.  “Then give away all you own and follow me.”  But he could not and went away unfulfilled.  Jesus reminds us that to follow him means role reversal, as far as the world is concerned.  To be great is not to be in a position of power ‑‑ it means being a servant.  Sometimes we have to give up things that are important to us until we realize that people are more important than things.

Who knows what will be required of us?  Who knows what challenges we will meet along the way?  I don’t know and will not predict, because God always surprises me in the end, but never disappoints.  I think we have a long way to go, but I also believe that we have made progress along the way.  To be followers of Jesus means turning our worlds upside down and practicing our faith, just like we practiced the piano when we were kids.  It is a process, a journey, a way of life, where Jesus calls us to follow him.  There’s nothing easy or simple about it.  And it’s not something anyone else can do for us. 

St Francis of Assisi wrote a beautiful prayer that captures the heart of the gospel message and which I hope we can take with us as our prayer today.  Let us pray.   

Lord, make me an instrument of Your peace.

Where there is hatred, let me sow love;
where there is injury, pardon; where there is doubt, faith;
where there is despair, hope; where there is darkness, light;
where there is sadness, joy.

O, Divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console; to be understood as to understand; to be loved as to love; For it is in giving that we receive; it is in pardoning that we are pardoned; it is in dying that we are born again to eternal life.  Amen.[v]

Peace, Deb
(c) Deb Luther Teagan, October 2021


[i] Will Willimon, https://www.ministrymatters.com/all/entry/10924/october-10-2021-good-teacher
[ii] Bob Cornwall, https://www.bobcornwall.com/2021/10/wealth-and-realm-of-god-lectionary.html
[iii] https://lancasterpa.com/amish/amish-school-shooting/
[iv] https://www.cbsnews.com/news/mother-of-amish-school-shooter-shares-amazing-story-of-forgiveness/
[v] http://www.catholicwomen.com/kc015.htm

Tuesday, October 5, 2021

Sermon - There's Plenty of Room at the Table (World Communion Sunday 2021)

 World Communion Sunday 2021 (Proper 22B)                                      Oct 3, 2021

Genesis 1:26-30, 1 Corinthians 12:12-26, Mark 14:22-25          Panzer Liturgical Service

In 1933, a Presbyterian minister in Pittsburgh, PA proposed that the city’s churches celebrate a Sunday celebrating the common practice of taking Holy Communion. The theme was church unity, focusing on the practices which united their mission rather than on the things that made them different. It was highly successful, and by 1936, the entire denomination had taken up this practice. In 1940, World Communion Sunday was adopted by the 38 denominations of the US’s National Council of Churches with the key focus being unity and community.[i]

There are a lot of differences in the ways we all experience our Christian journeys… different ways to worship, different music, different languages, different in almost as many ways as there are each of us. But we do share with Christians a few important, defining practices… baptism and Holy Communion, or as many of us call it, the Eucharist.

In our congregation here at Panzer, we are a little bit of an oddity. We celebrate the Eucharist on most Sundays… it’s what defines and sets apart our ministry. Many of us have the communion liturgy memorized. We find comfort, peace, and stability in hearing the same words each week as we prepared to come to the table. But there are many ways of acting out this liturgy within many different traditions, and our purpose here today is not to point out our differences, but the commonalities we share with every other Christian who is communing today. And while our various experiences may feel different to us, there are truths evident as we come which we will think about today.

In our Old Testament lesson, we heard a part of the creation story. In these verses, we see God creating human beings. And in this version of the creation story, God does something that makes humans different from the rest of the created order. God created man and woman in God’s image. I think this might be my favorite passage from the whole Old Testament, and certainly from Genesis because, here, we see the divine intention that God had for us and the world. We were created to be like God and to give care to the world that God created. Our consciousness, our ability to form relationships and memories, all of this came to us because God didn’t want to be alone. The whole creation was designed to work in harmony – we are supposed to be the caregivers of the world God made.

The study of Genesis will teach us interesting things – that there are two versions of the creation story. Things happen in a different order. The humans are named, and when allowed to partake of anything they want in the Garden except the fruit of one single tree – well, they just can’t resist. And this sets forward a sequence of events that some people think explains the mess that we are in these days. And it’s easy to get caught up in that version of the story – it’s very Days of Our Lives… Even so, the rest of Genesis and the whole biblical story is continuing evidence that even our habit of wandering away and outright defiance does not separate us from the love of God.

But especially in this first chapter of Genesis, we see God’s purpose in creating the world and our place in it. It is our common humanity and God’s boundless love that gives us a place in God’s world and a seat at God’s table.

In our second reading, we hear Paul teaching (with a little bit of scolding) the divided Corinthian congregation on the real definition of unity. The church in Corinth is known today for its various disagreements – Paul wrote two letters to try to bring them back in line. Here in chapter 12, Paul is explaining the difference between being the same and being different, but unified.

We are one body, he says, united by our baptisms, but not carbon copies of one another. Everybody has unique gifts. Everybody brings something important to the table. Every piece of the puzzle is necessary – like putting together an IKEA shelf or chair. It’s easy to think that the little pieces don’t matter, at least until you end up on the floor because you couldn’t figure out what to do with those last three screws.

Paul spends a lot of time reminding us that our success or failure as a church will depend on our ability to respect the differences between us. No one gift is more important than another. Just like every organ in the body has a purpose, so does every gift in the church. And those gifts need to be used.

And while it’s easy for us to slip into the practice of honoring power over other gifts, God intends that we make sure the whole body of Christ and all of its members are welcomed and instructed equally in how to build up the Church so that we can offer the best representation of Jesus we can. We must be careful to remember that people often get their first impression of who Jesus is by how we act. Are we reflecting a positive, unifying image when we interact with people around us? Most days, it doesn’t matter what we say if our behavior doesn’t model the love that Jesus offers everyone.

In our gospel lesson, Jesus sits with his followers after the Passover meal. Here he redefines what this common table will come to mean. As we have read through Mark this year, we have seen the disciples show small glimpses of realization – some days that get that Jesus is a different kind of Savior. But many also were fixated on the historic expectation – a savior would come to rescue the Israelites from the tyranny of their oppressors and establish a new kingdom. Here at this table, Jesus once again says, I am not your white knight. I have not come to save you from death… I have come to die for you. But don’t worry that this will be the end, because God has something bigger and better in mind.

When we come to this communion table – to this Eucharist or Thanksgiving – we are all equal. Bishop Curry, the presiding bishop of The Episcopal Church, tells a story about the first time his parents went to church together – it was the next big step in their dating life. His father grew increasingly worried as the communion service preceded because he saw that every person was walking to the front of the church to receive a wafer and drink from a common cup. And this was significant because they were the only black folks in an all-white congregation that morning. He had never seen a black person and a white person drink from the same water fountain, much less from the same communion cup.

But he watched his girlfriend receive the wafer, and then get offered the cup, and she drank from it just like everyone else had done, with these words spoken as a reminder of what they were doing… This is the blood of Christ, shed for you. And he decided that day that any church where black and white folks drank from the same cup, well that was something powerful he wanted to be a part of. And that’s why Bishop Curry is an Episcopalian.[ii]

On a Sunday like today, we are called to remember the unity of the table. All are welcome. Rarely do we deserve to be here. I’ve used this quote from Rachel Held Evan before, but it bears repeating today: “This is what God's kingdom is like: a bunch of outcasts and oddballs gathered at a table, not because they are rich or worthy or good, but because they are hungry - because they said yes. And there's always room for more.” (Searching for Sunday).

Why is World Communion Sunday especially needed now? Because we need to be reminded that Jesus called us to unity. And that is being threatened by their fearful state of the world around us. There are so many gaps to bridge – from racial to political to economic to theology and even health… it feels like any possibility of unity might have gone the way of the dinosaur – extinct with no hope of return.  Surely that’s not what God intends for us! 

I think there is a great benefit, not just by coming to this table together, but by imagining ourselves at every table where the Lord’s supper is being shared. This is a potent reminder that we are all equal recipients of the sacred gifts of Jesus’ body and blood and that they give us all life.

Imagine the word “communion” in your head. Now change two letters – and you have the word “community.” And wasn’t that Jesus’ intention after all? He knew that there were difficult times ahead, and this coming together of different kinds of people would help them discover something in “common” that would lead them to “unity!” and be the change that the world needed – and that we still need today.[iii]

What does that look like? In the communion liturgy, we say these words:

And so, in remembrance of these your mighty acts in Jesus Christ, we offer ourselves in praise and thanksgiving as a holy and living sacrifice, in union with Christ's offering for us, as we proclaim the mystery of faith: and everyone responds: Christ has died; Christ is risen; Christ will come again.

That’s what a day like World Communion Sunday asks us to think about… how do we offer ourselves in praise and thanksgiving – as a holy and living sacrifice, and how do we remember that it’s in union with what Jesus has already done for us? 

I saw this poem by Jan Richardson – think she’s on the right track.

The Best Supper by Jan RIchardson
AND THE TABLE WILL BE WIDE And the table will be wide. And the welcome will be wide. And the arms will open wide to gather us in. And our hearts will open wide to receive. And we will come as children who trust there is enough. And we will come unhindered and free. And our aching will be met with bread. And our sorrow will be met with wine. And we will open our hands to the feast without shame. And we will turn toward each other without fear. And we will give up our appetite for despair. And we will taste and know of delight. And we will become bread for a hungering world. And we will become drink for those who thirst. And the blessed will become the blessing. And everywhere will be the feast. —Jan Richardson Image: "The Best Supper" © Jan Richardson janrichardson.com


[i]Ian Heston Doescher, www.ministrymatters.com/all/entry/3201/world-communion-sunday-why-we-do-it-and-how

[ii] Rachel Held Evans, The Table, https://rachelheldevans.com/blog/the-table-michael-curry

[iii] Rod Anderson, https://www.eplocalnews.org/2021/09/27/world-communion-sunday-is-so-needed-now/

[iv] Jan Richardson, www.facebook.com/JanRichardsonAuthor/posts/3016645398654819