Sunday, March 1, 2020

Sermon - Lent 1 A


1st Sunday in Lent – Year A                                                        March 1, 2020
Matthew 4:1-11

When I was in sixth grade, I participated in our church’s confirmation class. Nobody asked me if I wanted to … it was an expected right of passage. I don’t remember a lot of details – we memorized the Ten Commandments and the Apostles’ Creed. In some ways, it felt like being a Christian was just about believing in and following the rules… and anything fun was not allowed. At the time, it all felt black and white – do this – don’t do that. The goal was getting into heaven. But as time went on, I realized that the journey of faith is not that simple.

Now, let’s be clear. I am not saying that rules and theologies are not important. Or even necessary. Boundaries give our lives clarity and help us to meet expectations. They keep us healthy and safe. They keep us in community with one another. But our lives of faith are not defined by rules of behavior and biblical interpretation alone. A life of faith is also about relationship – with God and one another.

As I have grown in faith and felt called to serve the church, I envisioned a Confirmation journey that focuses less on following complicated rules and more about how we become the new creations in Christ. And not just for them, but for all of us. Distilled to the sharpest point, we are called to live out these two rules: love God with everything we have, and love others in exactly the same way. 

Today’s lessons are complicated and deep. The Genesis reading is well known. If your bible has paragraph headings, this section would probably be labeled THE FALL. As Christians, we associate the actions of Adam and Eve, and the punishment of being driven out of the garden, as a reason for needing Jesus, who brings wholeness and balance back to our lives, and well reflected in the epistle lesson for today. But if you ask a Jewish rabbi to preach on this passage, and he or she will not have the same interpretation as we are used to hearing.

Dr. Stanley Hauerwas has been thinking about Christian ethics since he was a Texas farm boy in the 1960’s. He has studied all of the great Christian theologians, and taught generations of Christian teachers and preachers in the last 40 years. He is a layperson, not ordained, but early on felt called to dedicate his life to understanding how the Jesus story informs the ways we live and act in the world. Recently, he heard a rabbi talking about this passage, and as he prepared to do the same, he took some of her insights to heart.

As he contemplated the conversations and explanations between the story’s principle characters, he realized that Eve did what we often do - she reframed the story about the tree in the garden’s center and its fruit to fit the narrative that she believed, not the one that recorded for us in earlier verses.

In the story, God told Adam and Eve that they could not eat from the tree in the middle of the garden – everything else was fair game. But when the serpent asked her about the tree, Eve added something new… she said that God has forbidden them to even touch the fruit, or they would die. It’s a little disconcerting to know that the serpent replied correctly - touching the fruit would not kill them. And by exploiting the lie in Eve’s new version of the story, the serpent, wanting to prove her wrong, convinced her to eat the fruit – and to share it with Adam.

The snake was right. They did not die. But this experience did send them down a new part, and death became a new preoccupation in their lives.[i] And a new conflict arises. The garden was created to give life. This life was anchored in trust of the creator who made the world. Adam and Eve’s ouster from the garden wasn’t just because they disobeyed God. Their disobedience was rooted in their lack of trust that God had a better plan.

And this got me to thinking. What if the original sin was not disobedience but legalism – a preoccupation with making faith about rules and regulations as a way of earning God’s love, instead of seeing faith as the path to relationship with God? Does that change the way we think about the relationship between sin and faith? Does it make a difference in the way we live? Does it change the way we think about who is in and who is out of the Kingdom of God?

The Hebrew Bible passage and the gospel passage have something else in common. Temptation! Eve is tempted by the serpent and gives in, without much argument. But Jesus’ experience was more complicated and instructional. Instead of thinking of it as a negative experience, maybe we should think about how it defines all that is to come.  
First, Jesus was led by the Spirit into the wilderness, but he was not abandoned there. Wild and barren, perhaps, but not a place devoid of God’s presence. Immediately after his baptism, this was the place where Jesus became tuned to what relationship with God is all about. We think of the wilderness as a place of weakness. But that wasn’t true for Jesus either. His time away gave him what he needed to combat the rational, biblical arguments that Satan would use in trying to turn him away from God.

When bad stuff happens, good people of faith will sometimes ask, “Where was God?” We worry that trouble or change happens outside of God’s grace. But I think about some of those dark or tempting times, and that’s where my trust in God really took hold. In the wilderness, we learn more about who God is AND who we are. In an increasingly uncertain world, I am sure this is a good thing.

Second, Jesus’ temptations are our temptations.[ii] Seeing what Jesus experienced connects us to Jesus’ humanity. And understanding how Jesus reacted can teach us how to respond when we are in our own wilderness experiences.

Through Jesus:
* We are called to refuse to use power to make our needs more important than the needs of others. The first temptation presented to Jesus was to see if he would put his own needs first. Jesus had been without food and drink for 40 days (which is bible-speak for a really long time). Think about the Israelites wandering in the wilderness for 40 years. It didn’t take long for them to use up whatever provisions they took for themselves. And so, God provided manna to be collected for their daily needs. If they tried to save some for another day, it spoiled so that they couldn’t eat it. It was an exercise in learning to trust that God will provide. It’s one of the hardest lessons to learn: our own survival does not outweigh the call to follow and trust that God will meet our true needs.

* We are called to refuse to test God or use God’s power in direct opposition of the way it was intended. Imagine being offered the power to do and have whatever you want. The second temptation tested Jesus’ willingness to use the power he had to become the kind of Messiah that the Jews were expecting…not just powerful, but also willing to use that power to serve his own spiritual and political needs. Even craftier, Satan used the words of Psalm 91 to “prove” that this was what God intended for the Messiah. Instead, Jesus refused to give into the power that was rightfully his. Using scripture in rebuttal, he reminds us that we are not to put God to the test. This one is very hard, because testing boundaries is what helps us grow. But it’s also important to realize that there are consequences that may not be experienced until much later, changing our lives forever.

* We are called to refuse use God’s power to gain power for ourselves. Satan’s last temptation was to try to coax Jesus into raising up an army – It’s the same thing that some of the religious leaders wanted from Jesus, too. But Jesus refused, knowing power can corrupt before we even realize it’s happening.

Look around. The world is conflict driven. Our lives are often defined by wars, conflicts, police actions and revolutions. And when we gain peace, new conflicts arise, and the world order once again rearranged. And if there is not conflict around us, some might be tempted to start something, just because they can. Every day, the temptation to take power feels closer than ever before, and it will ruin us if we let it. [iii]

Lastly, the passage from Romans teaches us that Jesus takes away sin’s power over us. We can’t resist by ourselves. Adam and Eve’s bad choice – believing that they could be on the same level as God – touched everyone who came after them. But Jesus’ faithfulness to God’s promises gives us access to the life that God always intended for us. The good news is this: the power of God in Christ is stronger than the power of Satan. The power of good always triumphs over the power of evil, and the power of life—of resurrection—overturns the power of death and destruction every single time, even if we can’t see it in the here and now.

Resisting temptation is not easy… in fact, it often brings us to places where we did not expect to be. But I am convinced that when our comfort and routine are stripped away, we experience the most growth. And when we stop listening to the voice that says, “You failed,” and listen instead to the one that says, “You were faithful,” we become the people God created us to be.[iv] Our freedom comes in our relationship with Christ. This is not freedom to do whatever we want, is instead the desire and the will for joyful obedience to God, and satisfaction in living that life.[v]

Jesus gives us a model for facing every day temptations. It asks us to understand who God is, how much God loves us, and how God calls us to live. The season of Lent offers us time to dive deeper, exploring what it means to live out our baptismal promises. Our baptisms are not just defined by what we understand about Jesus, but also how we have become part of a bigger family – the Church – held accountable not just to God, but also to one another. Life in Christ is both/and, not either/or.[vi] 

I’m always interested in what our sister denominations are doing to keep the baptismal promises relevant, and found that the ELCA has developed a series of curricula to teach these principals on a continuing basis. People are called to “put their faith into practice” by living out the promises contained in the Baptismal liturgy in these ways:
In that promise, we pledge as members of the body of Christ through baptism to:
  • live among God’s faithful people
  • hear the word of God and share in the Lord’s supper
  • proclaim the good news of God in Christ through word and deed
  • serve all people following the example of Jesus
  • strive for justice and peace in all the earth.[vii]
The life of faith is filled with action words… live – hear – share – proclaim – serve – strive… words that get us out of our heads and ask us to live from our hearts, with hands and feet taking us into the world.

In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit!
Amen.


[i] Podcast: Crackers and Grape Juice, Lent 1, Year A – Teer Hardy and Stanley Hauerwas, February 27, 2017. http://crackersandgrapejuice.com/lent-1-lent-year-a-legalism-is-the-original-sin/
[ii] First Sunday in Lent | Renounce — Preaching Notes, Dawn Chesser
[iii] Charles Campbell, The Word before the Powers: An Ethic of Preaching. Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2002., 44-48
[iv] Brian Lowery, We are called to be Faithful, Not Successful, Christianity Today, March 2017
[v] James Howell, What can we say come March 5? Lent 1, http://jameshowellsweeklypreachingnotions.blogspot.com/

Sunday, February 23, 2020

Feast of the Transfiguration (Last Sunday of Epiphany) - Year A


Transfiguration of Our Lord – Year A                                         February 23, 2020
Matthew 17:1-9                                                                 Panzer Liturgical Chapel

Can’t Stay on the Mountaintop Forever

There are two kinds of time. There is Chronos – time that moves sequentially – seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, years at a time. Steady – predictable – detectable – measurable. It’s the same for everyone who owns a watch or watches the sun. Chronos time drags us along in its wake, carrying us to a new moment, as long as we’re alive. 

But there is another way to experience time. It’s Kairos time. Translated from Greek, it means “a right, critical, or opportune time for action.” In the theological terms, we talk about Kairos time as "the appointed time in the purpose of God," the time when God acts, or as I think about it, “Spirit time.” These are moments that last for a particular amount of chronological or sequential time, but which occupy a lot more real estate in our hearts, our minds and our lives.

Think about it this way: Do you remember what you were doing at 11am yesterday? How weeks or months ago? In a year, we live 525,600 minutes, but we can’t remember what we were doing for 90 % of them. If we could, I’d remember where I put my debit card the last time I used it at the Penny Markt.

On the other hand, I’ll bet you remember the day you met your best friend or significant other… that you can look at a photo or video of a significant event and  feel the experience embrace you, flooding you with all the emotions of the day. These moments of transformation mark us, change us, and make us who we are. 
The gospels are filled with snapshots of Jesus’ ministry – the important things that people remembered and talked about until someone finally wrote them down. At this point in Jesus’ ministry, they crowds have been growing, following Jesus wherever he and the disciples went. Eventually, Jesus stole away to rest and recoop. On a high place, along with Peter, James and John, Jesus is suddenly joined by two ancient figures of faith. Moses appears – representing the Law – and Elijah with him – representative of the prophecies of all of God’s creation.

And not only that, but Jesus was transfigured – his face was transformed as if he was being lit up by the sun – shining from the inside out. Talk about being filled with the Spirit! It was amazing, and frightening, and life-changing for all.
The disciples were so affected by the experience that they did what any of us would have done. They offered to memorialize the occasion with a monument, so that others would be able to know of what had occurred. It was a very Jewish response to a very holy experience. Wherever God appears to humankind, we are inclined to say, “Let’s pile a bunch of rocks together so that people would know – ‘God Was Here!’”

But Jesus won’t allow that to happen. This experience – this transformation or transfiguration – wasn’t designed for that purpose. Seeing Jesus’ glowing face, and being in the presence of the pillars of the Jewish faith wasn’t meant to illicit a passive response. It was instead designed to inspire the disciples to be inspired and invigorated to continue their work. And if true for them, it is also true for us.

I hope that in your faith journey, you have had a miraculous, mysterious encounter with God. And while you might feel it necessary to memorialize that experience in some way, I hope you’ll remember that God doesn't want us to freeze frame the mystery in our lives, nor sit still and ponder it forever. Instead, God calls us to enter into the mystery of God and use it as our fuel for living. That's really the only faithful way to deal with mystery.

And how do we do that? "Listen to him," says El Shaddai. "This is my son, the beloved, the chosen. Listen to him." At the center of the mystery are just these three words. Our faith journeys are not about theological enlightenment or perfect understanding. At the center of the mystery is a person. It’s about Jesus. "Listen to him."

In the church, we celebrate Transfiguration Sunday just before Ash Wednesday. The prayers of the early church give us some indication of why this is appropriate. When we experience the awesomeness of God, we are given strength to bear our cross and become more like Jesus. The Lenten season gives us a path to renewed discipleship – walking the way of the cross and rediscovering what it means to resist evil in whatever forms it presents. During Lent, we can take on opportunities to give up things which draw us away from God or to take on things which bring us closer to Him. These can make our Easter much more lovely, much more holy, much more miraculous. 

If we take nothing else away from this passage into our preparation for Good Friday 
and Easter, we should take this. "Listen to him.” We can't stay on the mountain. The shine of our encounter with the holy fades away. But the impact of it does not, and stands in our midst as the living Word. "Listen to him."

The voice from heaven said, “Listen.” It was a commandment – a directive for getting on with the business of faith. And in listening, and leaving the mountain to go down to all that we know will happen, the teaching, the healing, the suffering and the death, they are the only way that we can get to the point of what all this is about… the resurrection. Every Sunday is a celebration of Easter… a “little” Easter if you will. That’s why when we are counting the days backwards from Easter to find Ash Wednesday we don’t count Sundays. Because Sundays are celebration days, resurrections days, filled with all of the hope and joy and amazement of the first resurrection on the first Easter morning.

Our time in worship, in study, in retreat… all the places where we experience the awesomeness of God – that’s what gives us the fuel and enthusiasm and courage we need to return to the “everyday world” of human need where, often through us, Jesus heals the sick, cares for those in need, and opposes the forces of evil. We must remember that if worship is a retreat, it is not a retreat from the world but a refueling station that readies us to serve the world in love, mercy and grace.

Jesus knew what was in store for him. He knew that his time on earth was limited, and that despite his teaching and example, for a moment, evil would have its way. But he came down off the mountain anyway. He came down with his disciples and he did the hard thing that needed to be done. His ministry wasn’t over. His journey among the people taught lasting lessons. He didn’t just teach the “whys” – he taught the “hows” – and sends us out to serve the word, bringing a message of healing, wholeness and belonging to everyone who had need… even us.

Pink circle is the Church of the Holy Sepulcher
Over Thanksgiving, Shawn and I went to Israel with his dad and our friends, Chris and Charles. On our second day in Jerusalem, our guide took us to the Mount of Olives and told us, “Today we are walking in Jesus’ footsteps, all the way to over there.” In the distance, past the golden Dome of the Rock, he pointed to the dome of the Church of the Holy Sepulcher, the large church designating the location of Jesus’ burial place. It looked really far away, and as I looked at the deep valley we would have to descend into, and then climb out of to make our way through the streets of Jerusalem, I looked at Shawn and said, “I’m not sure I can make it that far.” But I did. And it was a holy moment.

Jesus leads the disciples down from the mountain with these words, “Rise and have no fear.” That is often the most difficult part of our journeys. Peter, James and John were the cream of the disciple crop, but each of them faltered all along the way – questioning Jesus’ actions, denying their friendship with him, abandoning him at his time of greatest despair. But Jesus did not abandon them. And he does not abandon us.

Transfiguration: that is the challenge of this last Sunday after Epiphany… and first Sunday before Lent. In our lives, the transforming power of God is most real to us in the intense moments of knowing, and in both our mountain-top and valley experiences. Live it right here, right now, with and in our dazzling, transfigured Savior. In the words of the Father: Listen to him. Follow him to glory. God loves you no less than Moses… no less than Elijah. Jesus calls us as he called Peter, James, and John.  Loving him, praising him, thanking him – this is the purpose of our days.

Some of the best faith songs come from non-faith sources. “Seasons of Love”, from the Broadway musical RENT, composed by Jonathan Larson, captures the essence of what it means to live every minute – Chronos and Kairos – the way God intended. 

525,600 minutes, 525,000 moments so dear. 525,600 minutes - how do you measure,
measure a year? In daylights, in sunsets, in midnights, in cups of coffee.
In inches, in miles, in laughter, in strife. In 525,600 minutes - how do you
measure a year in the life?

How about love? How about love? How about love? Measure in love. Seasons of love.
SOLOIST 1
525,600 minutes! 525,000 journeys to plan. 525,600 minutes - how can you measure
the life of a woman or man?
SOLOIST 2
In truths that she learned, or in times that he cried. In bridges he burned, or
the way that she died.
COMPANY
It’s time now to sing out, tho’ the story never ends. Let's celebrate remember a year in the life of friends. Remember the love! Remember the love! Remember the love! Measure in love. Seasons of love! Seasons of love.

When we worship and serve in his name … when we love others as he loved us, through Christ, we are transformed.And we give thanks. Amen.