Sermon - Living Lifted Up - 17th Sunday after Pentecost

September 27, 2020  - 17th Sunday After Pentecost (21A)       Stuttgart Liturgical Service

Philippians 2:1-13, Matthew 21:23-32

I don’t know about you, but I need a little bit of encouragement these days. The world seems crazier and more mixed up that I ever remember it, even though the world has often been even more dangerous and unpredictable than now. You cannot read a newspaper or watch television or check social media without getting hit in the face with the reality that, left to our own devices, we can really mess things up.

That’s why we need a story bigger than our own in which to be grafted and grounded. That’s why we read the stories of the Hebrew Bible and Christian scriptures. They tell stories that are true. It’s not the facts that draw us to the stories… it’s the truth of the stories – Truth with a capital T.  The gospels are like documentaries of Jesus’ life and teachings, each with a particular audience in mind. Likewise, the letters are written to specific communities of believers with unique problems and gifts.

These writings were designated as a canon of sacred texts after they had proved to be instructive to the Christian community for several hundred years. Still today, they teach us important lessons about who God is and who we are called to be. Knowing this, what do we do with the words that we have heard today from Paul and involving the events and stories we have heard about Jesus?

This passage from Philippians is very famous and historical. It is called “the Christ Hymn,” and is believed to be part of a hymn from the early church, when Christianity was spreading from person to person, and house to house. These verses are deeply theological, describing not just the behaviors of Jesus, but also revealing Paul’s understanding of his very nature.

Deep questions are addressed in this passage. What is the relationship between Christ’s humanity and his divinity? And how does the saving work of his life relate to the work that we are called to in his name? Even better, this passage names the kinds of lives we are being called to live – lives of love, compassion, sharing and sympathy. It sounds like an easy task in the abstract, but in practice, it is agonizingly difficult. Why do you think that is?

One reason could be our status in the world. That status could be defined by our race, our gender, our socioeconomic level, our level of education… the list is endless. I think about the life that I am leading… about where I came from and the resources I have at my disposal, and it’s easy to get caught up in the expectations of the world… to be lured into thinking that I’m doing OK on my own. After all, if my needs are being met, that’s the most important thing. But that’s not true, at least not in God’s world. When trouble comes, personal, emotional, worldly trouble, I am reminded that my own comfort and perspective are secondary to the life which I claim in Christ.

It is worth remembering that the earliest Christians were considered some of the lowest members of society. The chief priests and elders made that pretty clear in our gospel lesson. “By whose authority are you upsetting our apple cart?” they ask Jesus. In many respects, they had the right – he was not from the line of those who served as priests. But still Jesus taught. In fact, he uses this to challenge very premise of their question. He knew that somewhere along the way they had stopped being followers of God and started being the gatekeepers of the world they wanted to control. Jesus knew that while they thought very highly of themselves, they were also afraid enough for their positions that they wouldn’t pull out the big guns until it was absolutely necessary.

We don’t know exactly why this parable is the one that follows Jesus’ newest encounter with the religious leaders, but we can see that it would be a real puzzle to everyone gathered… no easy answers allowed. Which of the sons honored the father? The one who told him what he wanted to hear, or the one who maybe even begrudgingly did the right thing? Do actions mean more than words?  I’m betting this quandary is lived out in each of our homes every day. And when we can see ourselves on both sides of the fence, I don’t know about you, but I am uncomfortable with this encounter and how it calls me to task, no matter which side I am on.

So maybe pairing this passage from Philippians with this Jesus encounter is purposeful enough to allow us to dig a little deeper into not only the nature of Christ, but also our relationship with him. So I’d like to spend a little more time on Paul's words.

When I look back over my life, I often remember that it’s been at the moments that I have felt most carefree and “together” – when everything was ‘rainbows and unicorns’ - that life got turned upside down, reminding me of why I need Jesus. A few years out of college, I got a promotion at work and a few months later was offered an even bigger job in a different state. And I wanted to be happy – to celebrate my big success with my friends and family… but all I could do was cry. And after prayer and soul searching and some good pastoral care, I realized that wasn’t the life I wanted, and a year later ended up cashing it in all in to go to seminary.

Over and over in my life, just when I thought I had my act totally together, I realized that this was not the life that Jesus had called me to. And I’ll bet that’s true for you, too. This passage from Philippians reminds us that we meet Christ most honestly in the midst of our need for God. Just when we think that we can make it on our own, something reminds us that our real strength is found in community… in loving and caring for one another, in putting the needs of others ahead of our own needs, in being willing to change our minds about the things we were once so sure of.

Today we hear of Christ himself taking the form of a slave, humbling himself even to the point of death by crucifixion -- the execution reserved for traitors in the Roman Empire. In God’s world, it is Christ’s willingness to give up himself to the powers of the world that gives us our freedom. To become like Christ, if that’s what’s being asked of us (and I think it is), we begin by hearing how Christ became like us, and continues to come among us. Then, and only then, are we ready to hear about how to be "the imitation of Christ."

Jesus’ life is one of both descent and ascent – of coming down to be like us, with us, even though he was in the form of God and equal with God. Relinquishing that, even for a short time, must have felt like slavery for him – limited by the frailness of the human body and spirit. During his time with us, he experienced how fickle humanity can be, and how we are willing to sacrifice much for our own safety and security. And still he gave himself up for us, obedient to the task at hand, willing to see it through, even though the end would be so painful.[i]

This is both exhilarating and frightening, to see what Christ went through in his faithfulness to God, and then knowing that we are also called to live that kind of life. The best news is this: we are not called to this kind of life alone.

God is the one working in us, stirring up in us a willingness to do the things which must be done. When we immerse ourselves in it fully, God’s work is the source of our energy and enthusiasm to serve. And when we find community in the process, amazing, even miraculous things can be accomplished. In fact, because of the language differences between Greek and English, the “you” to which Paul refers is not in reference to individuals alone being called to serve, but to the development of communities, the willing and the working.

Likewise, the salvation that we are working out is not just about who’s going to heaven and who’s not, but about the quality of our corporate life as we work together under the rule of the Savior. How will we know if we are successful in sustaining this kind of life? Paul talks about it in these terms: mutual love and affection, sharing in the Spirit, unity, humility, sacrifice – and doing in all “in Christ.” So, if anyone tries to tell you that faith is an individual, private thing, or that’s it’s all about going to heaven, please direct them to Paul and this letter to the church at Philippi. Faith is corporate and public and even political… after all, Jesus came to turn the world upside down and calls us to do the same.

I don’t know what that means for you, but the place that I’ve started is to listen. There are millions of people in the world who have different life experiences than mine, and rather than assuming the worst of them and trying to make their lives look more like mine, I try to put more energy into listening to their pain and disappointment and joy, and to figure out if there is some way that I can be a part of the solutions to make life and the world better.

On NPR I heard the story of student who helped integrate a public high school in Tennessee in 1964. All-white schools would often refuse to play there, and if they did meet on the field, many of the black players left the game bloodied from the extra hard hits and no-calls from the referees on the field. Sometimes the police would have to escort their buses as they left town. He described the relief he felt when they got back to the high school safely, seeing his dad there to pick him up, each week escaping the angry mob of mostly white folks who felt like this integrated team was ruining football for them.

Dr. Weaver said, "Normally when you're with a team, you feel like everybody's going to stand together, and I never got that feeling that the team would stand with me if things got bad," Weaver says. "I think a number of the white students who were there with me would say now, If I could have did something different, I would've said something. But that's what evil depends on, good people to be quiet."

Weaver had never been back to West High School since graduating 50 years ago. After hearing a StoryCorps interview that aired on NPR, the current principal reached out, and Weaver returned says he will return to the school to talk to the students about his experiences with integrating the school.[ii] Think about that – over 50 years since it all happened and this was the first opportunity he had to go back and share what that meant to him – how it made him the person he is today.

Don’t be fooled into thinking that a good Christian life is all about the grand gesture… although those are always good. The harder thing is to not be silent when a word of love or kindness or support is needed. It’s scary to step out of our comfort zones and say the things we know that others don’t want to hear. But Paul reminds us that the more we act out and speak out the faith we accept in our hearts, the more God will give us the heart and energy and courage to walk that road. In the end, we have to live like we’re lifted up, and God will do the rest.

I’m going to close with the same Philippians 2 passage, but this time from Eugene Peterson’s “The Message.”

^1-4 If you’ve gotten anything at all out of following Christ, if his love has made any difference in your life, if being in a community of the Spirit means anything to you, if you have a heart, if you care— then do me a favor: Agree with each other, love each other, be deep-spirited friends. Don’t push your way to the front; don’t sweet-talk your way to the top. Put yourself aside, and help others get ahead. Don’t be obsessed with getting your own advantage. Forget yourselves long enough to lend a helping hand.

^5-8 Think of yourselves the way Christ Jesus thought of himself. He had equal status with God but didn’t think so much of himself that he had to cling to the advantages of that status no matter what. Not at all. When the time came, he set aside the privileges of deity and took on the status of a slave, became human! Having become human, he stayed human. It was an incredibly humbling process. He didn’t claim special privileges. Instead, he lived a selfless, obedient life and then died a selfless, obedient death—and the worst kind of death at that—a crucifixion.

^9-11 Because of that obedience, God lifted him high and honored him far beyond anyone or anything, ever, so that all created beings in heaven and on earth—even those long ago dead and buried—will bow in worship before this Jesus Christ, and call out in praise that he is the Master of all, to the glorious honor of God the Father.

^12-13 What I’m getting at, friends, is that you should simply keep on doing what you’ve done from the beginning. When I was living among you, you lived in responsive obedience. Now that I’m separated from you, keep it up. Better yet, redouble your efforts. Be energetic in your life of salvation, reverent and sensitive before God. That energy is God’s energy, an energy deep within you, God himself willing and working at what will give him the most pleasure

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[i] Susan Eastman, Commentary on Philippians 2:1-13, Preach This Week, September 24, 2011, http://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=1009

[ii] William Lynn Weaver, “What Evil Depends On: For Good People to Be Quiet.” Story Corps: NPR Morning Edition, September 29, 2017.

Sermon - Day by Day - 16th Sunday after Pentecost (20A)

16^th Sunday after Pentecost (20A)                                               Matthew 20:1-16

Sept 20, 2020

Ever heard this at your house? “But that’s not fair!!!” (Did I get the tone of voice right?) Oh, I see you have! J This cry is not new. We have all felt that way at one time or another. We want the best treatment possible. We want people to hold up their ends of the bargains we make with them, implied or explicit. We have expectations that need to be met and we want it all on our terms.

I’d say it’s “the American Way,” but this attitude of fairness or appropriate reward predates our history as a nation, or even our practice as Christians. From the beginning of our history, God promised to make a great nation. For the early followers of God, this relationship was mediated by the head of the household – first Abraham, then Isaac, then Jacob and Joseph. But at many stops along the way, something got in the way of that relationship. We strayed off the path. We stopped following God. When the Israelites were in slavery in Egypt, God called new spokesperson – Moses. His credentials? He was called from a burning bush. Try to argue with that kind of call!

We’ll talk about this more in a few weeks, but for a minute, let’s think about Moses receiving God’s word. God hoped these ten general rules would be enough. Worship me only… don’t murder… don’t steal… don’t lie… don’t covet. But the people wanted more rules. They wanted to know the details of what was and what was not allowed. When tathered together, the rules numbered in the hundreds. Ask the Torah law code a question, and it will give you an answer. What to eat… what to wear… when to plant… when to harvest… who to accept… who to reject… the code will tell you what to do.

For instance, what do you pay a hired worker as a daily wage? Look to the law. A denarius was considered the fair way for a day’s work. It was enough for a person to exist for a day, but not enough to feed a whole family. This concept was based on the manna experience in the wilderness. God will provide just-in-time remedies just when you need them. Nothing more or less.

So, when our landowner went to look for laborers, he went offering them the amount that was expected. And those who came at the first hour were willing to work a whole day – 12 hours – for that wage.  Each time the landowner went out, he promised a fair wage to those who followed. No other promises were made by the boss, but assumptions were made by the workers. Everyone assumed that the workers who followed would earn less, based on the number of hours they worked. That was what the law required. That’s what everyone expected. That’s what we expect.

At the end of the day, the boss started paying those who worked only one hour. Imagine their surprise when they got a full day’s wage. Likewise, those who worked 3 and 6 and 9 hours also got a full day’s wage. But when the 12-hour workers got paid, they were angry that they only got what they agreed to – a full day’s wage. “Not fair,” they cried. “This doesn’t make any sense.”

But Jesus’ stories rarely do… at least through our human lens. In most of the parables and in his other teachings, Jesus is all about changing expectations… it can be jarring because it feels like life is upside down and backwards, all at the same time. This often means that even when we think we have this “living for Jesus thing” all figured out, Jesus turns it all on its head.  

Back in Matthew 19, we run into a rich young man who learns this lesson the hard way. (I know, I talk about him a lot!) He asks Jesus, “What good thing must I do to inherit eternal life?” Jesus responds, “obey the commandments.” The young man responds, “All these I have done – what do I lack?” Jesus’ response was “Sell your possessions, give the money to the poor and you will have treasure in heaven; then come and follow me.” And do you remember the young man’s response? “When the young man heard this word, he went away grieving, for he had many possessions” (v22).

The rich young man was curious about how Jesus would interpret the law. Maybe it was a test – maybe it wasn’t. But Jesus’ answer would tell him something important about who Jesus is. What he didn’t understand was that Jesus came to both fulfill and reorder the law. There are new rules of engagement in the kingdom of God, and Jesus came to proclaim them to us, one encounter at a time.

Back to our landowner – he could pay people whatever he wanted. He chose to treat everyone as if they had worked the whole day. The anger in this story doesn’t come because the landowner didn’t live up to his promises. It came because he was too generous. This story is about more than a fair day’s wage. It is about our expectations of who God is and what God’s kingdom and church look like.

Previously, living a life of faith with YHWH, “I AM,” the God of the Israelites, was about following the rules – understanding the letter of the law. Living a life of faith with Jesus was about understanding the intent of the law. Jesus didn’t come to make us better rule followers. He came to make us more loving people. Both the story of the rich ruler and this parable about the generous landowner are meager expressions of the amazing generosity that God feels for us AND in turn expects from us.

More than anything, this story and most of Jesus’ tales are stories of the triumph of grace. Participation in the kingdom of God is not about accomplishment or achievement. Life in Jesus is not about doing all the right things in order to gain salvation. It is about something much harder. It is about understanding that we only do this “faith thing” with God’s help. And help isn’t even the right word… it’s really about surrendering to God. And that scares us to death.

The rich young man rejects this notion of surrender because he can only define himself by his possessions and behaviors. I’m sure he said to himself, “But I follow the rules…”  Likewise, the workers who labored the longest are resentful, not of what they have received, but for the generosity that was shown to others who did not work as long. Think about the corpus of Jesus’ parables. They are all about this same generous God. A father who welcomes home a wayward son … a housewife who loses a fine pearl and cleans the whole house until it is found… a shepherd to leaves 99 sheep safe at home to go and search for the lost one.  

This kind of extravagance is hard to comprehend. It’s more extravagant than waking up every Saturday morning to find your car washed and vacuumed and always in perfect running order. It’s more extravagant than coming home to a perfectly prepared meal, complete with dessert and a clean house and well-behaved children and pets. It’s more extravagant than the most amazing vacation or the most breath-taking piece of jewelry or a worry-free retirement. God did more than give us the things we want. He gave us a path to what we need the most. He gave us a life worth living.

The God we worship, the one who calls us into a two-way relationship, is overwhelmingly generous. He is more amazing than anyone any of us can fully comprehend. He loves us more than the person who loves us the most – our husband or wife, our parents or children or friends. He gives us what we don’t deserve… life, a fair day’s wage, and opportunities to share it with others in his name. Sometimes that’s the biggest barrier to committing ourselves fully to him.

Maybe if we see ourselves differently, we can understand the story the way it was meant to be heard. At our best, we see ourselves as the “whole day” workers. “I have worked long and hard … please appreciate me.” But to tell the truth, I am only a part-time laborer. Sometimes I can be counted on for a full day’s work, but not always (and you know I’m not talking about hours.)  Instead, I am the rich young ruler, unable to fully surrender. I am the indignant worker, mad that others are equal recipients of God’s love. Lucky for us, we are also the workers who only works an hour and receives a full day’s wage. God loves us all equally and extravagantly and asks us to do the same.

When asked at the end of my first semester of seminary what I found most surprising, I answered, “There’s a lot of people preaching heresy out there.” My second biggest “wow” came several years later when I realized the most important classes I took were not in theology, biblical studies, or preaching. They were the ones I took in church history. It confirmed my earlier suspicions… that we often revive the theological heresies of the first two centuries, dusting them off and using them to legitimize our misuse of power and privilege.

There have been a lot of times when the Church was the most important power on the planet… those were usually dark times for the marginalized people of the world… the poor, the immigrant, women, children. Jesus’ message valued those on the outside… he maybe even preferred them. That’s a very hard message to hear when we sit in positions of power and privilege – especially if we don’t think that’s where we sit.

This parable calls us to read the story from the marginalized perspective… the 1-hour worker is blessed by the great gift of a full-days wage. At the same time, the full day worker is blind to the injustice they perpetrate by hating those who receive more than WE think they deserve. (Miguel de la Torre – Reading the Bible From the Margins, Chapter 1, 2002)

When we read in the gospel of John, “For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son so that whoever believes in him will not perish but have eternal life (John 3:16),” we must internalize the message buried deep within Jesus’ story. First, this gift is offered to everyone – we don’t get to choose who hears and responds to Jesus’ call. And second, it isn’t offered to sit on the shelf and be admired from afar. It is intended to change everything we know about what it means to live. Once we have the gift of eternal life, we have to allow it to change everything about us … our feelings, our thinking, and our choices for how we relate to others. 

On his deathbed, 13^th Century bishop, Richard of Chichester prayed on his deathbed a prayer which has been condensed to these familiar words: 

Thanks be to Thee, my Lord Jesus Christ

For all the benefits Thou hast given me,

For all the pains and insults Thou hast borne for me.

O most merciful Redeemer, friend and brother,

May I know Thee more clearly,

Love Thee more dearly,

Follow Thee more nearly.

And God’s people respond: Day by day.

That’s the challenge of the Christian lives we lead… to live as if we KNOW that Jesus’ loves us. Day by day, hour by hour, we are bathed in the glory of God’s love. We don’t deserve it. We can never work enough for it. And yet, here we are, recipients of his boundless love, grace, and mercy, and required to pass it on.

Thanks be to God.

Let us pray:

Lord Jesus, we cry out to you for deliverance in our times of need. Sometimes, in your gracious love, you come to us, you meet our need, you respond to our cries with your deliverance.

And yet sometimes, dear Lord, we confess that the deliverance you send may not be the deliverance we thought we wanted.

And sometimes, once our problem is solved, we find ourselves with new problems and different challenges.

Thus we pray for three things: The ability to recognize your deliverance when it is offered, the grace to receive your deliverance as yo

u would give it to us rather than what we thought we deserved, and the faith to embrace the new life you give us in our deliverance.

For your care and your deliverance, we give thanks. Most of all, we give thanks for your love that enables us, delivered of our ills or not, to live with faith, hope, and love. Amen. (Will Willimon, Pulpit Resource, Volume 48, No. 3, Year A, 2020)

Sermon - 15th Sunday after Pentecost (Proper 19A)

Romans 14:1-12, Matthew 18:21-35                                  Panzer Chapel Liturgical Service

September 13, 2020

“The Upper Hand”

We forgive because God has first forgiven us. This would seem to be an obvious point. And yet, too many times, probably sometime of every day, we forget that we are where we are because we live forgiven lives. God has forgiven us for the terrible, awful, stupid things that we have done to shame and embarrass ourselves. God has forgiven us the petty, insignificant things which we thought that nobody would ever know about. And God will forgive us tomorrow and the day after that for the mistakes and sins that we will commit, on purpose, in the future. The good new is this: We are forgiven, even when we forget or don’t believe that we are forgiven.

In last week’s appointed lesson, Jesus had a discussion with the disciples about discipline and reconciliation in the church. He told us to work hard to build bridges between us, even when we disagree. It’s where we get a promise for the future – “wherever two or three are gathered in my name, there I will be also.’ So naturally, Peter wanted to nail down Jesus’ expectations, asking for a clearer understanding of exactly what is required in the area of forgiveness.

Peter came and said to Jesus, "Lord, if another member of the church sins again against me, how often should I forgive? As many as seven times?" Jesus said to him "Not seven times, but I tell you, seventy-seven times."

 Well, isn’t that extraordinary? In fact, some translations cannot agree on whether Jesus said seventy times seven (490) or seventy-seven. It doesn’t really matter though, because what Jesus meant was, “Forgive them until you’ve lost count and then forgive them some more.” What an awesome responsibility. What an awesome, exhausting responsibility.

And of course, to get his message across, Jesus told a story… one which you and I are quickly able to understand is our story.  A king brought decided to settle with all those who owed him money. He had the upper hand in those relationships. And before him came at least one man who could not get his act together. Let’s call him Joe. As the king was ready to throw Joe’s life away, Joe begged the king, ‘Have mercy on me. Be patient and I will pay you all I owe.”  So, the king, having the upper hand, showed mercy and Joe went free. What a great end to the story. Except it’s not the end.

As we read on, we find that to gather the money he owes the king, Joe goes out and harasses all the people who owe HIM money. Now Joe has the upper hand. And when the next guy, let’s call him Jerry, asks for the same patience and goodwill from Joe that Joe received from the king, Joe is the first one to say, “No way!” and has Jerry thrown into prison. 

Now this is concerning to everyone watching, because who knew which one of them might be next to feel Joe’s wrath. And so they went and complained to the king. And the king was so upset that he went off the deep end and order a terrible punishment for Joe, erasing all of the previous undeserved forgiveness. For Joe, it’s not a happy ending at all. Now, who has the upper hand?

It is hard for us to listen to this story without swallowing a big lump at the end. And unless we are careful, this we come away with a fear of retribution, God’s retribution. Made simple, we could interpret the message as: “Make God mad, and you’re in BIG trouble!”

But let’s remember a few things. First, the king has a right to be angry. He trusted Joe to be changed by his generosity. After all, the king didn’t just forgive him on a whim. No, he did it to make a point, to change the way that Joe lived the rest of his life. It’s a sad commentary on life that Joe couldn’t even remember the king’s kindness through the end of the day. The King’s forgiveness wasn’t valued after all. That wasn’t what the king expected.

When we hear the parables of Jesus, we want them to have happy endings, to wrap everything up in a nice, tight package. But I wonder if this parable is troubling to many of us because, well, we relate to Joe. When push comes to shove, we neither want to forgive or love or be generous, especially when we think that we are in the right, or don’t recognize when we are repeating the same old mistakes.

Instead of comforting us, this parable makes us afraid. We want to get past the fear of unforgiveness and dip into the well of joy when we first hear those words, “I forgive you.” But left to our own devices, we don’t know how. We trust the instinct which says “Win at all costs.” We forget how much we need to hear and say the words, “You are loved.”

So as an addendum let us look at a practical parable of what it is to be forgiven by God. It is called the Parable of the Bug by Ernesto Medina. He writes:

I don't know abut you, but if I see an bug walking along the kitchen counter top, I don't even think twice about smashing it (make appropriate hand gesture). I have done this for years. One day, while I was at home minding my own business, there I saw yet another one of those blasted bugs making its way around the sink. In almost a reflex movement, my hand reached out, index finger poised, pressed to the counter top, and poof, it was gone.

Then, half-way kidding with myself, I asked, "Why don't I feel awful when I do that?" The answer was obvious... I am this tall (move hand to my height) and the bug is this small (put fingers together to show the size of the ant). Such a great difference in size allows me the freedom to feel nothing when I kill it.

And then, do you know what occurred to me? As large a difference between the bug and myself, this difference is nothing compared to the difference between me and God! Yet, God does not go around squashing us (hand gesture). In fact, God does something very different. God offers an arm outstretched calling us into divine presence. An outstretched arm asking us to stand in the midst of God's love. In spite of the difference between us and God, God cares for each one of us. Enough care that Jesus dies for our sins. Enough care that we are forgiven. (WORSHIP THAT WORKS , Rev. Ernesto R. Medina - Proper 19 Notes).

So how does this play out in our lives? How do we go about the business of getting right with the people we need to be able to love? For each of us, there are many right answers. The question is very personal – one size does not fit all. But at the same time, this is also a very painful question, painful because it makes us look at ourselves in ways that we often try to ignore. History shows one man’s struggle and how it played out in his life:

At the time that Leonardo da Vinci was painting “The Last Supper,” he had bitter argument with a fellow painted, and as a result, anger overflowed into his life. As da Vinci was painting the face of Judas Iscariot, he decided to paint the face of his enemy as Judas’ face, so that their feud might be permanently recorded by all who looked at the painting. 

Slowly da Vinci worked on the faces of the other disciples. But each time he tried to paint the face of Jesus, he found that it would not come out right. Da Vinci was confused and frustrated. Eventually, he realized his hatred of this other painter was keeping him from being able to see Jesus’ face clearly enough to complete the painting. It was only after he made peace with his friend and repainted Judas’ face that he was able to paint Jesus’ face and complete his masterpiece. (Hot Illustrations for Youth Talks, 1994, Youth Specialties, Inc., page 161.)

The gospel message can really be boiled down to these words, as found at the beginning of Bill Countryman's book The Good News of Jesus. In the first paragraph, he essentially says that the Good News that Jesus brought was to tell us that we are forgiven. Nothing more. Nothing Less. All Christ requires of us is to accept the gift and pass it on.

We are living through difficult times. The walls between us have never seemed taller or thicker. But the day will come, sooner than we might imagine, when we will be asked to live out the gift of forgiveness we have already received. We think of Jesus’ forgiveness as something that’s going to come in the future, but in reality, it has already happened even before we recognized our need.

Each one of us is already forgiven. Jesus came – he lived, he taught, he loved, he died, and he rose again to show us that all is not lost. Jesus’ parable teaches us that forgiveness is something that is to only received, but also must be practiced… whether it’s seven times seventy or seventy-seven times – it really doesn’t matter. Jesus is asking us to develop the habit of forgiveness as we respond to the love that he has shown us with a forgiveness that can never we earned or deserved.  

How can we not respond to that kind of love? It is love that reaches out to us in our joys, our sorrows, our anger and our frustrations. Internalizing our own forgiveness is the first step in passing that gift on to others. It’s the foundation of what it means to be a family – of what it means to be the Church. Forgiveness not only changes our lives but changes the world. Thanks be to God!

Let us pray:

Lord, here we are, daring to speak to you in the faith that you want to be in conversation with us. We speak in the faith that, time and again in our history, when we have forgotten you, you remembered us. When we turned away from you, you returned to us.

Sometimes Lord, we fail to see your loving care for us at work among us. We look upon current events and don’t see much evidence of your activity. We find explanations for ourselves and the world that don’t include you. We doubt.

Come to us, Lord. In our worship, strengthen our faith that you care about us, you hear our cries, and you come to us. Help us to see that our doubt of you says more about us and our limits than about you and what you are up to.

Give us the grace to doubt our doubts. Deliver us from our skepticism and uncertainties. Enable us to see you as you are, God for us, God of love in action. Amen.

Sermon - Surrender - 13th Sunday After Pentecost (17A)

13^th Sunday after Pentecost – 17A                            August 30, 2020     

Panzer Liturgical Service, Stuttgart

Exodus 3:1-15, Romans 12:9-21, 

Matthew 16:21-28                                                

“Surrender”

This passage from Matthew gives us the first of the passion predictions. Jesus’ death is not only imminent but is necessary and places him in the role of a prophet, not a ruler or a king. Peter’s response to Jesus’ death prediction is totally human. He loves Jesus and wants nothing bad to happen to him. His faith, which he proclaimed only a few verses earlier, is bound to Jesus as a person – to being with him day in and day out. I’m sure all Peter can this is: How will Jesus be able to fulfill his role and king and redeemer of the people of Israel if he is dead?

We want to think Peter gets it – he actually has flashes of understanding. But just as quickly, he loses focus on the truth of why Jesus has come. Jesus’ purpose is “other.” God did not send Jesus to fulfill our expectations. Instead, Jesus came to usher in an alternative kingdom, a radically different way of exercising rulership and authority. Just a few verses earlier Jesus asked Peter, “Who do you say that I am?” Peter’s response was definitive, “You are the Christ, the son of the living God.”

But despite Peter’s revelation from God, he continues to think in purely human terms – reasonable, logically, and in hopes for the anticipated outcome. Israel’s expectation had always been for a king like David, who would come to rescue them from their oppressors. But Jesus wasn’t that kind of king. Jesus’ reaction is to call Peter to a renewed and deeper form of discipleship. “Fall in line, Peter,” Jesus says. “I am going to the cross – now pick up yours and follow me.”

This scene makes an important theological claim about Jesus: Jesus’ death was not a meaningless event. Jesus was not a hopeless and helpless victim. He was a knowing and willing participant in the divine strategy to bring humanity into a fuller relationship with God. And in this part of Jesus’ story, there are lessons for us to learn.

First, Christ calls us to a way of life that is opposite of the prevailing culture.  Self-denial is not a part of our culture’s image of “the good life.” It’s currently in our American nature to acquire, to get, to have more and more. But Jesus tells us to lose or hate our lives in order to gain something more than things. What does Jesus mean by that? Does he really want us to hate ourselves? No, I don’t think that’s what he’s saying. But he does want us to stopping looking to ourselves or others for our purpose or happiness or fulfillment. He wants us to look to him for our joy. He asks us to let him drive. With no GPS or map. To follow him on an unknown journey.

When my niece turned five, she came with her family to visit us in Germany. When we woke up that day, we told her that we had planned a big surprise for her birthday, but she would have to wait until we got there to know what it was. She pondered that for a little while, and then came to me and said, “Aunt Deb, I don’t like surprises, but I can keep a secret, so if you tell me what we’re going to do, I promise not to tell anyone.” I know exactly how she feels.

Moving from place to place has been such a challenge for me – 11 moves in 25 years… thinking ahead to retirement is giving me the same kind of disquiet. When should it happen? Where will we live? … and what about church… and making new friends… and finding purpose outside of the work that defines us? Lord, I don’t like surprises, and yet I’m always amazed when, looking back, I see how God has woven good through the things I never wanted or expected to happen.

Second, the call to discipleship is based on faith in Christ and confidence in the future victory of God. That means that sometimes, OK most of the time, things don’t go according to my plans. Taking up our crosses means reorienting our lives toward the good news that God has acted decisively and ultimately in Jesus. Following Jesus isn’t about believing that Jesus gives us good advice. The Christian life doesn’t consist of boxes that can be checked off – OK did that mission project, memorized that scripture, have the right friends, check, check, check. No, Jesus’ life turns us in a different direction.

I think about the story of the Good Neighbor, which we also know as the Good Samaritan. The lawyer and the priest were so boxed in by the religious rules they observed that they missed the point of it all. They had all the correct answers, but they didn’t do what was really required of them… they did not help someone in need. Jesus’ instructions only make sense to us if we really believe he is the One who came to save us from our sins and from ourselves. Being a good person is not enough. We each have to come to the conclusion that it’s all about him, and not about each of us.

Third, the call to discipleship is a matter of confession and community. In the original Greek the word we translate as “confession” comes from the word martyrion, which is also the root word for martyr. We hear that word and think of ultimate martyrdom – giving one’s life for the faith. But being a martyr is not just about dying for the faith. It’s about living the whole of our lives as an act of testimony to something bigger than ourselves. This is something we are called to do every day, every hour.

Each act of worship, each act of service, each act of study is a giving of ourselves to Christ. And in this we are not alone. Being a follower of Jesus Christ is not an individualistic ethic of the solitary “I” but is an ethic for the community of disciples that confesses Jesus Christ to be the Christ, the Messiah, the Son of the living God. This is not to say that we do not need to experience Christ alone and for ourselves, but we do need each other. Even Tom Hanks needed a Wilson to make it long enough to get rescued from that deserted island in the Pacific Ocean. 

Jesus gathered a group of people around him to learn and serve and to be accountable to one another. From the very beginnings of the Christian church, people gathered to worship and serve and care for one another. In 1 Corinthians 12, Paul reminds us that not everyone has all the gifts necessary to do the work of the church, but that each of us provides a necessary piece of the puzzle. In baptism, at the communion table, at marriages and funerals, in bible studies and committee meetings, we are called to realize that all voices and hands are necessary to accomplish God’s work on earth. [i]

And lastly, the call to discipleship cannot be learned in a day. These lessons are the lessons of a lifetime. We are often hard on ourselves, saying, “Well, I keep messing up, so I’m just going to throw in the towel.” God doesn’t want that from us. We are just like everyone else who has attempted to be in relationship with God … like Adam and Eve, Moses and Jonah, Peter and Paul. We make mistakes. We get it wrong, but then we start over. And as we learn from our mistakes, and see the witnesses of those who serve the Kingdom of God, we refocus our eyes on him, pick up that cross and begin the journey again.

Max Lucado has written a book entitled, “It’s Not About Me: Rescue from the Life We Thought Would Make Us Happy.” In the forward, NBA star David Robinson, writes about how successful sports teams function best when everyone has one goal in mind. All efforts and gifts are concentrated on the greater goal – winning, and that those who seek their own glory drive the team away from success.[ii]

We fight an uphill battle as disciples of Jesus Christ. Everything around us tells us to look out for our own good. It is only by letting go of our own agenda’s and timetables that we can discover God’s mind-blowing plan for our lives. The only thing we have to do is believe that it’s all about Him - our worship and work, our bodies and families, our success and our struggles. Easy – no, but fulfilling in ways that we have never even imagined.[iii]

Jackie Robinson would have been 101 years old this year. He is probably best known for his contribution to baseball. In 1947, he became the first black player to play for a major league baseball franchise. But before that, he was a standout student at UCLA, playing baseball, basketball, and running track and field. Baseball wasn’t even his best sport.

73 years later, we remember his contribution to the integration of professional sports. But we don’t often think about how difficult is was for him to stand up to the racist hatred reigned on him by fans and rival players alike. Some days, it took every ounce of courage he had to walk out onto the field. Some nights, he cried and shook with anger at the hate that seemed to confront him at every turn. Jackie Robinson’s faith served as inspiration and motivation, comfort and strength, wisdom and direction. Some say it was the secret to his success, grounding him to face whatever would come his way.

Later in life, he would become active in the civil rights movement in the US, but before that he was #42 for the Brooklyn Dodgers, shattering racial and athletics barriers on and off the baseball field.[iv] His teammates reminded him often that his courage gave them courage to change long held beliefs and move into an new era of baseball and life. Even in the end of his life he left us a good word, with this quote chiseled into his tombstone in Brooklyn, NY: “A life is not important except in the impact it has on other lives.”[v]

Our pain, our difficulties, our disappointments, they are not outside the scope of God’s love. Focusing on that all-consuming love, we realize that all things can give glory to God. Even in cancer and recovery and even death, if it comes to that, God’s power will reign. Max Lucado writes, “Your pain has a purpose. Your problems, struggles, heartaches and hassles cooperate toward one end – the glory of God… Faith in the face of suffering cranks up the volume of God’s song.”[vi]

I don’t want to minimize the pain of our struggles. The losses we experience are real. They wound us to our core. But if Jesus’ death and resurrection teach of nothing else, it is that God is present in the middle of the storm, and will see us to the other side. We are never alone.

So ultimately what do we do? I think that Jesus is asking us for something that we really don’t want to give. He is asking us to surrender to him. To give him our whole lives, “lock, stock and barrel.” He wants it all - our jobs, our families, our money, our time. 

We’re hearing a lot of God-talk in today’s society. But are we seeing the walk to match? Do our lives reflect the way we talk about who God is to us? In all of this study and prayer, I realize that I need to take another look in the mirror – I’ve got a lot more work to do. But God is good and waiting for us to come and follow him.

Thanks be to God!  Amen.

Lord, hear the words of an unknown confederate soldier and know that they are our words, too.

I asked God for strength, that I might achieve;
I was made weak, that I might learn humbly to obey.
I asked for health, that I might do greater things;
I was given infirmity, that I might do better things.
I asked for riches, that I might be happy;
I was given poverty, that I might be wise.
I asked for power, that I might have the praise of men;
I was given weakness, that I might feel the need of God.
I asked for all things, that I might enjoy life;
I was given life, that I might enjoy all things.
I got nothing that I asked for, but everything I hoped for.
Almost despite myself, my unspoken prayers were answered.
I am among all [men] most richly blessed.[vii]

Jesus’ name. Amen.

 

This stuff didn’t fit into the sermon but I felt the need to share:

Did you know that every MLB team retired the jersey #42 in 1997 in honor of Jackie Robinson's contribution to baseball?

Jackie Robinson Day is usually remembered on April 15^th each year, but with the 2020 COVID-19 crisis, that celebration was delayed until August 28, coinciding with the 57^th anniversary of the first March on Washington and MLK’s I Have a Dream speech. At the same time, protests were occurring in Kenosha, WI and throughout the US in protest of the shooting of black persons by police, most recently Jacob Blake. On August 27th, one stark remembrance saw the NY Mets and Miami Marlins line on the opposing baseline, observe 42 seconds of silence, and then leave the stadium without throwing a single ball, leaving only a Black Lives Matter t-shirt blanketing home plate. Other teams made similar tributes. Teams from the NBA, MLS, MLB, WNBA, NFL, and professional tennis, refused to play until the teams could have conversations about the inequity of racial justice in the US and how they could contribute to bringing these issues to the forefront of national conversation and action. 

To hear more of Jackie’s words, check this MLB video showed at all the games on August 28^th. “4 Us 2 Remember – MLB’s tribute to Jackie Robinson in his own words” https://twitter.com/MLB/status/1299361104259317760

Here’s a great article with MLB tributes to Jackie Robinson 2020 https://www.washingtonpost.com/sports/2020/08/29/mlb-jackie-robinson-day/

 

---

[i] Matthew – New Interpreter’s Bible – by M Eugene Boring, 1995, pp 342-352.
[ii] It’s Not About Me, forward by David Robinson, 2004, pages xiii-xiv.
[iii] It’s Not About Me, Max Lucado, index of chapters.
[iv] Chris Lamb, “Jackie Robinson’s 100^th Birthday – His faith in God was the secret ingredient to his success,” Fox News, January 28, 2019.
[v] Clemente Lisi, “Jackie Robinson’s Forgotten Christianity” Religion Unplugged, February 20, 2019.
[vi] It’s Not About Me, Max Lucado, ppage 124-126.
[vii] The Oxford Book of Prayer, George Appleton, editor, 1985, page 119.

Sermon - What's the Plan? (Proper 15A)

11th Sunday after Pentecost - Proper 15A         August 16, 2020

Genesis 45:1-15, Matthew 15: (10-20), 21-28 Panzer Liturgical Service, Stuttgart

Where is God When It Hurts? -- Philip Yancey
When Bad Things Happen to Good People – Harold Kushner.
Everything Happens for a Reason and Other Lies I’ve Loved – Kate Bowler.

These are some of my favorite books on the question of theodicy, which asks why God allows for evil and suffering to exist in the world. I can’t tell you the number of times this question comes up. On 9/11, my phone rang off the hook with people asking, “Where was God?” and “what do I say to my kids about how this kind of thing could happen” With people sitting in hospital waiting rooms, or in funeral homes, or living rooms, folks asking if the cancer, or miscarriage, or rebellious family member was a penalty from some past sin or mistake.

Does God have a plan for our lives? Isn’t that the question we ask? 

We live in a world that sees cause and effect. If this… then that. It’s easy to be on board with God’s plan when life is going well. But when it’s not, many people will give up, wondering why we would love or trust a God who allows bad things to happen, often catapulting us on to a very different course. That’s the story we’ve been following in Genesis.  

Last week we heard the beginning of the Joseph saga, about his brothers’ jealousy, and this week we work our way to the conclusion of the story. The power of today’s lesson builds on what happened in between last week and this week’s readings. Joseph becomes a slave in the house of Pharaoh, is accused of unspeakable things with Potiphar’s wife, ends up in prison, and redeems himself by correctly interpreting Pharaoh’s dream, predicting a famine of seven years. With Joseph’s help, Pharaoh is able to store up enough food for Egypt to survive. Meanwhile, Joseph’s family is suffering and when they reach the end of their rope, they go to Egypt to beg for assistance to keep their people from starving to death.

When they arrive in Egypt and see the governor who would make the decision on whether to help them or not, they do not recognize him, and before we think Joseph too saintly, he does mess with them a little, accusing them of spying and theft, sending them home with a small payload of wheat, and having them return with the youngest brother before revealing his true identity. 

Make no mistake, the brothers were at their wit’s end – Joseph set up an elaborate scheme which feels a little like payback when you read the story in one sitting. But ultimately, Joseph can no longer keep who he is a secret, and he reveals himself as the brother they threw into the pit. Verse 3 tells us, ‘And the brothers were dismayed…’

And so, the story comes full circle. The brothers do in fact kneel at Joseph’s feet, (remember, that’s why they wanted to get rid of him in the first place), but not in the way they expected. Joseph is not demanding this in servitude – instead they kneel in gratitude for the help they receive. Once jealous, now they are grateful. Once they were abusers of him, but now he shows grace and mercy.

That doesn’t mean that there isn’t justice. While Joseph does not cast blame upon his brothers, eliminating the possibility of a grudge, he is also quick to give credit elsewhere. In the end, God is the hero of the story. 

This takes us back to our beginning questions. If it was God who brought Joseph to Egypt, does that automatically pardon the brothers for their terrible misdeeds? Does this story show that everything really does happen for a reason, that God has some sort of master plan? Some might read Joseph’s statement that way, but I see him pointing in a different direction. 

First, he reminds his brothers (and the readers) that while they are forgiven, they don’t get to claim credit for where Joseph is today – no opportunity for the brothers to say, “aren’t you glad we pushed you in that pit?” No, Joseph in no way thanks his brother. But he does forgive them, putting their treacherous behavior in the past.

Second, Joseph’s answer does indicate that God does have a plan – but it’s not a plan that charts every breath or step. No, God’s plan from the beginning is a plan of redemption, of partnership with God. The bible is a record of that plan, of how God’s people mess it up, and how God adapts and adjusts, fulfilling the plan of redemption in new and different ways. From the beginning, Joseph knew that God had a plan. And that plan came to pass even when people worked hard to interrupt it at many points along the way. 

This story shows, as most of them do, that God is more powerful than our sins. God is able to overcome them and redeem them, in spite of the choices we make. But if we trust God, and like Joseph, are willing to forgive and see God’s presence, even in our difficulties, God gets what God wants, despite our interference along the way. We should never be so bold as to claim that our actions were part of the plan, or that our sins were necessary evils along the way. Rather, they were just something that God redeemed while healing the world.

The book of Genesis is not a story about how God set a plan in motion and saw it through on God’s timeline. The book starts out with God’s original plan, where the people walk side-by-side with God in the Garden of Eden. God didn’t close the garden because there was something better outside – no, we did that to ourselves, letting sin corrupt our lives and our relationship with God. 

The good news is that in Genesis and throughout the biblical story, we see how God takes those mistakes and sinful actions and redeem them, in spite of all the roadblocks we throw up along the way. God is not a master puppeteer, controlling all of our movements and moments to make a specific outcome a reality. If anything, the scripture and history show how God is able to roll with the punches – to say, ‘Ok, there are consequences to that bad choice, but I’m not going to abandon you.’ If we say that everything happens for a reason or that the bad stuff is all a part of God’s plan, then we excuse the part we play in our own failures and our own successes. 

Instead of saying that everything happens for a reason, we might instead say that God redeems everything in spite of us. Who knows what would have happened if the brothers had not sold Joseph into slavery? They thought the worst thing in the world would be to kneel before Joseph and they compounded their mistakes to make sure that didn’t happen. They tried to prevent Joseph’s dream from coming true, but in the end, God took the sins of the brothers, the lies of Potiphar’s wife, Joseph’s time in prison, and redeemed them so that God’s ultimate will – for salvation and reconciliation – could be achieved. 

I think a lot of people are worried that it lessens the sovereignty of God if we say that things don’t always happen for a reason. In reality, Joseph proves to us how persistent and powerful God really is. Sin may be a temporary roadblock, but ultimately it cannot upend God’s real plan to bring us all back into relationship with God’s own self. The sins of the brothers should have separated them from God’s blessing for their egregious behavior. Instead, we see an amazing display of mercy that God pours out on the family, allowing them a prominent place in the eventual formation of the Kingdom of Israel. If nothing else, this story reminds us that whenever sin tries to intervene, all it succeeds in doing is amplifying how mighty God really is.

I worked really hard not to preach on the Canaanite woman from Matthew, but I think that she does teach us an important lesson. We often focus on the negatives in that passage. When I asked if there were any changes people wanted to make in our liturgy this summer, many people, including me, were happy to see the prayer of humble access go – for time considerations, of course. 

Seriously, this prayer echoes a theology of Last Supper rather than Holy Eucharist, of sacrifice over thanksgiving. People were told to come to the table with fear and trembling.  The liturgy instructed them to not come to the table unless they believed and understood and fully contemplated the severe nature of Christ’s sacrifice for us. It was as if the liturgy were saying, “Jesus died for us and coming to this table is a somber and sacred business. Only come if your serious and a little bit scared.  Or you’ll be in big trouble.”  

Too many times we behave as if we deserve everything… better jobs, bigger cars and houses, more important reputations.  The Canaanite woman’s story reminds us that we deserve nothing but God’s condemnation.  But God has given us what we don’t deserve; life, choices, and God’s presence even when things are hard. And he gave us a Savior who was willing to die so that we could live… a Savior who didn’t expect anything in return, except our belief in God’s goodness and our faith that Jesus was the most faithful conduit to God’s grace. God had a plan. 

The Gentile woman provides a sharp contrast to the Pharisees and scribes who seemed determined to cause problems for Jesus, as well as the many Jews who rejected Him as the Messiah.  This woman, a representative of all people who believe, recognizes Jesus as the Lord who has mercy, who exorcises the demons of our lives and who, through His actions, invites all people to God's table. 

With love as the motivator of our actions, we are brought closer to God’s presence, even at the risk of being rejected.  This woman realized that a day spent under Jesus’ table was infinitely preferable to a lifetime spent in the courts of an earthly king to trying to measure up to the status quo.  That kind of love is precious, and usually born of pain and need so deep that it can be felt at a glance.

God’s plan is simple. God wants us to love him and he wants us to love each other. If there is any redemption in the phrase, “everything happens for a reason,” it must be in our realization that God is calling us to live out the plan every day, in every circumstance, as a part of who we were created to be.

Love God. Love others. Love redeems. That’s the plan.

As we close, hear the words from the Prayer of Humble Access… hear them from beginning to end, and receive with joy the message of hope they bring.

Let us pray:

We do not presume to come to this your table, O merciful Lord,
trusting in our own righteousness,
but in your abundant and great mercies.
We are not worthy so much as to gather up
the crumbs under your table;
but you are the same Lord
whose character is always to have mercy.
Grant us, therefore, gracious Lord,
so to eat the flesh of your dear Son Jesus Christ,
and to drink his blood,
that our sinful bodies may be made clean by his body,
and our souls washed through his most precious blood,
and that we may evermore dwell in him, and he in us.  Amen.

 

Resources:
Roger Nam, August 16, 2020
https://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=4547
 
Beth Tanner, August 20, 2017
https://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=3368
 
Alan Stanton, Pulpit Resource, Volume 48, No. 3, Year A

 https://www.ministrymatters.com/all/entry/10361/august-16-2020-does-god-have-a-plan-for-our-lives

Prayer of Humble Access - BCP 1989

Sermon - Trusting enough to get out of the boat - Proper 14A

Proper 14A (10^th Sunday after Pentecost)                           August 9, 2020

Matthew 14:23-33                                     Panzer Liturgical Service, Stuttgart

In his book, If You Want to Walk on Water, You’ve Got to Get Out of the Boat, pastor John Ortberg tells a story about an unexpected birthday gift from his wife, a hot air balloon ride for two. When they arrived at the field where the balloons were tethered, he climbed in the basket with his wife, the pilot, and another couple, and off they went.

It was a beautiful day, flying high between the California mountains and the Pacific coastline. The majesty of the scene took his breath away. But soon he realized that he was feeling something unexpected… fear.

He always thought those baskets went about chest high, but this one only came up to their knees. He worried that one good wind would be enough to pitch someone overboard. One look at his wife told him that she was even more uncomfortable than he. So, he decided that if he got into a conversation with the balloon pilot, it would make him feel calmer. “How did you get started flying balloons,” he asked.

“Dude, it’s like this.…” Uh oh… it turns out the guy actually didn’t have a job but was a local surfer who did this a little money on the side. He went on to explain that he got started flying hot-air balloons after he had crashed his truck drunk-driving, injuring his brother. While his brother was recovering, the driver-brother learned to pilot balloons so that he could take his brother for a ride. 

“By the way,” he added, “if things get a little choppy on the way down, don’t be surprised. I’ve never flown this particular balloon before, and I’m not sure how it’s going to handle the descent.”

John’s wife looked over at him and said, “You mean to tell me we are a thousand feet up in the air with an unemployed surfer who started flying hot-air balloons because he got drunk, crashed a pickup, injured his brother has never been in this balloon before and doesn’t know how to bring it down?”

Then the wife of the other couple looked at John and said, “You’re a pastor. Do something religious.” “You mean, like taking up an offering?” John asked. They were not amused. In hindsight, he realized that the real question of the day was, “Can I trust the pilot?” You know how it is. We tell ourselves that everything will be OK – that a positive attitude makes for a pleasant journey. But in the end, John realized that the real issue concerned the dude who was flying the balloon.[i]

Our gospel lesson today falls immediately after our lesson from last week – Jesus feeding the multitude by the sea. When Jesus hears of the death of John the Baptist, he retreats to a place alone, to pray and I’m sure to wonder what would come next. The disciples head out to cross the water in a boat – the kind that they were familiar with, in the same waters where they had fished before. But as the small storm buffeted them around, they realized that this didn’t feel like anything they had been through before.[ii]

(c) Deb Teagan - Israel 2019

The language of the original text speaks of a storm that “torments” the boat… the disciples did everything they could to keep the boat from going down. It was then that one of the disciples noticed a shadowy figure walking toward them… on the water. Frightened and amazed, they realized that the closer Jesus got, the calmer the sea became. Jesus’ presence was their port in the storm, even in the middle of the water. His presence with them said, “You can trust me. Your destiny is in my hands and it will be OK.”[iii]

Peter, never one to mince words, blurted out, “If it is you, Lord, then command me to walk on the water to you.” Jesus responded with just one word. “Come.” Peter, feeling himself sinking, cried out, “Save me, Lord.” And Jesus reached out a hand, reminding Peter that doubt is often the greatest enemy.

We talk about this as the story of Jesus walking on water. But what if it’s bigger than that? What if the lessons to learn come from what happened next? The more I read this story, the more I realize that we aren’t meant to live this life of faith with our own power or instinct alone. We are created to be in relationship with, and walking with, the One in whose image we are created.

At its core, this passage is about radical discipleship. It reminds us that Jesus asks us every day to do some amazing, scary things. Sometimes, they make no sense to us. They are outside our comfort zones. They require us to behave ways that seem unsafe or outside of the world’s expectations. And like Peter, in the middle of our water-walking, we feel ourselves slipping under, unsure of our path, and fearful of the way ahead.

25 years – that’s how long I’ve been a military spouse. And it didn’t take me too long to realize that some duty stations are more desirable than others. We have had some great postings, including living in Germany twice, but we have also gone to a few places where people asked, “Who did you make mad?” but using more colorful language. To many, those assignments are seen as a punishment, or as a place to fly under the radar. “How soon can we leave?” is often the question.

But those wilderness assignments were some of our best. Those were the places where I made the best friends, where my unique contributions to life were best received. And it was in those places that I learned one of the most important lessons of my entire faith journey. And this is it… life isn’t always about either/or.

We get lured into thinking that we are choosing between two things. In this year alone we have been inundated with choices: masks or no-masks; virtual school or going in person; travel or no travel, and if we go, how many times will we change the destination before we actually leave – if we even go at all. All of the decisions we’ve had to consider during these COVID-19 days feel consequential, not just for our own health and the health of our families. Like it or not, my choices also affect the health of the whole community and even the world.

And add to that the choices for our upcoming US elections, decisions rooted in our understanding of climate change, our reactions to racial tensions, poverty, and homelessness, and what inclusion looks like for the church and democracy… it’s so overwhelming, we can be paralyzed into doing nothing at all. Hear me, friends, I’m not saying that taking time for self-care is wrong – Jesus actually models that for us here and at other times in the Gospels. But willfully choosing to do nothing when we can do something – that’s often where our problems get us off track.

That is what Paul is talking about in Romans 10. 

12 For there is no distinction between Jew and Greek; the same Lord is Lord of all and is generous to all who call on him. 13 For, “Everyone who calls on the name of the Lord shall be saved.” 14 But how are they to call on one in whom they have not believed? And how are they to believe in one of whom they have never heard? And how are they to hear without someone to proclaim him? 15 And how are they to proclaim him unless they are sent? 

We are often called to navigate through multiple options, some of which would have seemed improbable or impossible at some time in our pasts. I look at Peter, who is so filled with his faith in Jesus that he gets out of a boat on choppy seas and begins to walk Jesus’ way. I’m sure his boatmates were shocked – maybe they were even trying to keep him from taking that first step. It’s only when Peter becomes distracted by the storm around him that he begins to sink. And while many interpret Jesus’ response as a rebuke, I am just as inclined to see him as the parent encouraging their kid who has jumped from the side of the pool, “Hey, I’m here, don’t worry, keep trusting me, I won’t let you sink.”

Earlier, we heard the story of Joseph and his brothers. Some of us might have been distracted by scenes and songs from “Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat,” while we were hearing this story of betrayal and human depravity – there’s not much worse than throwing your brother in a pit with no water in the desert, and then sitting down nearby to eat a good lunch… unless it’s planning to sell him into slavery and when realizing he was no longer in the pit, pretending he got killed by a wild animal so that their father wouldn’t know what they did… All in all, Joseph’s brothers were pretty bad.

Next week we’ll skip ahead eight chapters and see how their story gets resolved, but I don’t want us to gloss over their horrific behavior. Each of the 10 brothers has a different reaction to what happened… some were active plotters – others hung on for the ride. But let’s not be tempted into thinking that the Joseph story is about the sovereignty of God, who makes bad things happen so that good things will eventually prevail. This is a story about how easy it is for things to go badly when we put our own desires and wants above our trust that God will to see our needs are met.[iv]

When we look back over our lives, it’s often easy to see the places where God has been at work, even when it didn’t feel like it at the time. Sometimes the choices I made were good – other times they were difficult and judged harshly by those around me. Often, I could have done better but learned important lessons in the aftermath and recovery.

In the end, I am reminded that without those experiences, I would not be the person I am today, and maybe not even in this place. God did not abandon me in those times of doubt and fear – like a good GPS, when I took a wrong turn, God was always there helping me recalculate to get me back on a new path of faithful living. And I so grateful to the friends and faithful who helped me along the way.

Our faith journeys are not just important to our own spiritual and physical well-being. They are also necessary to the lives of those we meet along the way. Because how will people understand the joy and the challenges of faith in Jesus Christ unless they see it lived out in us? Our willingness to get out of the boat gives others the courage to do the same. 

John Ortberg's question comes back to me as we close out today: Do I trust the pilot of this ship? Do I trust the one who compels me to get out of the boat? If the answer is yes, if we live life to its fullest with him, we will get banged around and become disoriented. But it's OK. Jesus is not a ghost from the past or a miracle worker who comes to take our troubles away. He isn't our tour guide or life coach. He is the Son of the living God, who is present with us, and whose grace upholds us when we cannot stand by ourselves. Jesus wants more than to command our attention; he wants to save our lives. And he has promised to do just that.[v]

So what are you waiting for? Get out of the boat.

Prayer:

Lord, you have demonstrated your miracles to us countless times. You repeatedly remind us of your redemptive love and grace, and you call us to a life of discipleship, towards a promise of good news. So often, we proclaim our faith in you but stray away from what and who you have called us to be. Though we strive to do your will, we become misguided. Though we brag about our faith, we are easily discouraged. Forgive us for these sins of arrogance and faithlessness.

Thank you, that each time we fail in our faith, you are there to pull us back above the water, to calm the storms that pull us away, and to bring us back to you. Though we struggle with our own faith, your faithfulness endures. Your faithfulness brings redemption, healing, and salvation. Remind us again of your eternal love, so that we might once again find ourselves in your presence, ready and able to do your will. Lead us into a life of discipleship. Through Christ our Lord we pray. Amen.[vi]

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[i] John Ortberg, http://www.johnortberg.com/the-water-or-the-boat/

[ii] Ben Cremer, http://www.aplainaccount.org/proper-14a-gospel

[iii] John Ortberg, ibid.

[iv] Roger Nam, http://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=4546

[v]  David Lose, http://www.workingpreacher.org/craft.aspx?post=1594

[vi] Allan Stanton, Pulpit Resource. Vol. 48, No. 3, Year A, August 9, 2020.