What I learned today - Preaching My Way to Faith

Sunday, April 17, 2022

Sermon - Belief, Not Understanding… Easter Sunday (C)

Easter Sunday – Year C April 17, 2022

Luke 24:1-12, 1 Corinthians 15:19-26 Panzer Liturgical Service

If you asked most people what their favorite holiday is, most would say Christmas. I’m sure everyone has a favorite childhood Christmas memory, and some as adults, too. Especially here in Germany, the Advent and Christmas seasons are as wonderful and over-the-top as you would ever want them to be, filled with beauty and joy, and celebrated with friends and family in wonderful ways.

Meteora, Greece
(c) Deb Luther Teagan

But for the Christian church, the most important holiday is Easter. We have all heard the story – Jesus was welcomed into Jerusalem as a conquering hero, only to be arrested, placed on trial, and executed within the week. For three days, his followers believed that all was lost. But then the story turned.

Luke 24:1-12 (paraphrased) As the women of his group went to the tomb to prepare his body for its final rest, they were astonished and frightened to find that his body was nowhere to be found. Instead, the stone was rolled away and the cloths in which his body had been quickly wrapped on Friday were laying in a pile. Men in dazzling attire asked the ultimate rhetorical question: “Why are you looking for the living among the dead? He is not here – because he promised that he wouldn’t be.” And when the women went to tell the disciples the news, they didn’t believe them. Instead, Peter and probably others ran back to the tomb to see for themselves the new truth… “He is not here – he is risen.”

I can’t even tell you how many people have told me that the resurrection is the hardest part of the Jesus story. Since the mid-17th century, we have become a world where seeing is believing. Today we often hear that science and religion conflict with one another. But the father of modern science, Galileo Galilei, even though he was knocked down again and again by the Church, never lost faith in God and Jesus Christ.

So if you are wondering how to reconcile your understanding of Jesus’ story with a world of scientific discovery, I ask you to consider hearing the story this way. The resurrection of Jesus is a miracle that is impossible to understand. We don’t know how it happened. But the real question is not about how, but why Jesus was raised from the dead. And to find an answer to that question, we have to look at the whole story.

The bible is filled with amazing stories – sometimes like a crazy soap opera. Even so, it’s easy to think of the bible as a rule book or etiquette guide. But it’s so much more than just that. It’s the story of God interacting with his creations for generations. And in this story, God tries everything he can think of to help us live in harmony with him and one another.

He creates this amazing garden – with everything that humanity would need to live a perfect life. But God also created us with personalities and the ability to make choices and decisions for ourselves. It was a risk, but without choice, he understood that what we have with him is not really a relationship.

And so when the first couple made bad choices, there were consequences. God was true to his word. But he also did not cut them off. He continued to be present with them, calling prophets to warn people and share the good news of who God is. But eventually, the old story played itself out. And a new story – a new prophet… a new savior – came into the picture. God turned the page and made a personal appeal to the people he created… and Jesus said, “Come and follow me.”

The world that Jesus was born into was not a model society. The Jews had been returned to the promised land from exile and slavery, but they were not in control. The Greeks and then the Romans were in charge. The Jewish leaders were given some authority to keep the religious sects in hand. We saw in the events of Holy Week that these leaders were dedicated to keeping their own status high by crushing small rebellions that popped up. Messiahs were a dime a dozen in their eyes. But Jesus was different, in more ways than one.

The resurrection, and therefore our celebration of Easter, is a pivotal moment in God’s history. Every Sunday we profess the belief that death does not have the last word over life. Two passages help us to cling to the resurrection story and believe in it even when we don’t understand it. The first has to do with faith. The writer of Hebrews 11 says, “Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen… By faith, we understand that the worlds were prepared by the word of God so that what is seen was made from things that are not visible. (v1,3)” That means that we have to be willing to know something with our hearts and faith, even if we can’t fully understand it.

In some ways, sermons on Easter are hard. They are theologically and philosophically oriented. Today’s epistle lesson is remarkably concrete. The people who followed Jesus were awed by the things he did… healing, feeding, and loving people, no matter who they were. But here Paul is telling us that Jesus wasn’t just important in the flesh… if that’s all we focus on we are missing the point. And he isn’t just important to us while we are in our flesh. Jesus’ resurrection, while unexplainable, changes everything for us. And Paul makes this point by connecting Adam and Jesus to us. He says - Just as Adam’s humanness makes us human, Jesus’ rising from the grave gives us the gift of new life, eternal life in him. And even more so, Jesus’ resurrection doesn’t just destroy the power of rulers and authorities over him but also flips on its head the concept that death will always have the last word.

At the beginning of this letter, Paul is quick to point out how hard it is to wrap our brains around this. He explains, "For the message about the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved, it is the power of God… For Jews demand signs and Greeks desire wisdom, but we proclaim Christ crucified, a stumbling block to Jews and foolishness to Gentiles, but to those who are the called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God. For God’s foolishness is wiser than human wisdom, and God’s weakness is stronger than human strength.” (1 Corinthians 1:18, 22-25)

It is not just that the resurrection doesn’t make sense, but also that Jesus, who is God, would die a horrific and shameful death. In the end, faith is about believing in the wisdom of God, which might not make sense to the world, and trusting that God’s weakness is stronger than human strength.

Easter is the best reminder that death does not have the final say – and that while we don’t know what this gift of eternal life will look like, it is a promise that we can count on. When we are young Christians, we can start out thinking that Easter and resurrection are an insurance policy… protection from struggles and hardships. We worry about following the rules, but eventually, we can’t keep up. When that realization comes, we can either give up or get a new outlook on what a life of faith should look like.

It’s a good day when we realize – and internalize – the understanding that Christ did not intend for our lives to be grounded in fear. Instead, he instructs us to live as reflections of his love and grace in the world. This happens day by day, minute by minute, one act of love at a time. It means choosing Christ daily and recommitting our lives, over and over, with the knowledge he always chooses each of us.

Many of us were brought to the water and baptized before we knew who Jesus was. That was the start of our Christian lives. Many of us went through Confirmation classes and reaffirmed our baptismal vows before our family and friends. But in reality, we renew those vows a remarkable number of times in our lives. Every time we attend someone else’s baptism or confirmation, we are asked to reaffirm our vows. When we come to the Eucharist each week, we answer the call of Christ when we affirm that we love God and seek to live in peace with one another, offering a prayer of confession and absolving one another from sin. We gather at a common table where everyone is equal. And we go into the world to serve God and one another in peace.

We come to worship in relative calm, but some people worship Jesus knowing that it is dangerous, putting their lives in jeopardy. If we think back to that first Easter morning, the women went in great fear because of all that happened the week before. But their love for Jesus was greater than their fear. And so they went.

It is always my hope that people will hear the story of Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection and see a place for themselves in his story. The journey of faith starts with one step…and continues with another and another, until one day, we are living a life we never imagined. At its core, this means living a life defined by love. Perhaps Mother Theresa has said it in a way that all of us can understand: “Not all of us can do great things, but we can do all things with great love.”

Let this be the prayer of our hearts. Let this be our Easter story. Let this be our everything.

Peace, Deb

See Holly Hearon, “Commentary on 1 Corinthians 15:19-26,” April 17, 2022, Working Preacher, https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/resurrection-of-our-lord-3/commentary-on-1-corinthians-1519-26-5

Thursday, April 14, 2022

Sermon - It was more than just a meal (Maundy Thursday - C)

Sermon – Maundy Thursday (C) April 14, 2022 Panzer Liturgical Service
Exodus 12:1-4, (5-10), 11-14 • 1 Corinthians 11:23-26 • John 13:1-17, 31b-35

We call this day Maundy Thursday. It’s a unique descriptor for the Holy Thursday, taken from the Latin word mandatum, which means mandate or commandment. Paul uses this theme in tonight’s epistle reading – “Do this in the remembrance of me.” The synoptic gospels, Matthew, Mark, & Luke, give us the historical account and the rubrics for this last supper – the one we reenact each week in the Eucharist. But the gospel of John fills in all the blanks. John’s account of the evening, found in chapters 13-17, gives us a significant look at Jesus’ theology… his understanding of who he is and who we are when we follow him. Yes, Jesus at the last supper gives us a mandate, but it’s not just to share this holy meal often.

Tonight, we see Jesus once again acting against stereotypes. We talked last Sunday about how Jesus is a different kind of King. Instead of riding into Jerusalem on a powerful horse, he comes in on a humble colt or donkey, transportation for the poor. And when they arrive at the room for a simple supper, he again acted in an unexpected way.

In the normal order of things, Kings don’t wait on people. So, when Jesus takes off his outer garments and makes things ready to wash the feet of his disciples, they were shocked, so much that Peter confronts Jesus about his actions:

Peter: Lord, you’re not going to wash my feet…
Jesus: Peter, I have to wash your feet.
Peter: Well, then, wash my head and my hands also
Jesus: Just your feet, Peter… pay attention, this is not just about being clean.

It was common practice for guests to have their feet washed up entry into a person’s home. Most travelers wore sandals and the roads were dusty and dirty. Cleaning feet was a way of keeping the home clean, but also an act of hospitality for the traveler, to make their visit more comfortable. But usually, it was the servants who performed this duty, not the host himself. And so, for Jesus to put himself into that lesser role would have been an extremely dramatic and uncomfortable thing to witness. And afterward, he commanded them to continue the practice of serving one another, and not to wait on someone else to serve them.

We don’t often wash one another’s feet these days… in most mainline traditions, this Maundy Thursday service is the only time that this part of Jesus’ story is reenacted. Touching another person’s feet feels very intimate. It makes both people feel very vulnerable. And as with many of the things that Jesus asks of us, when we are open to that vulnerability, we are open to the Christian life in ways we might not have imagined before.

More than anything, Jesus’ actions tonight teach us important lessons that should inform the way we relate to other people and live out our faith every day.

1^st lesson – Hospitality is an important manifestation of our faith. Jesus not only calls us to welcome people into our lives but also to meet the needs that they have. One of the things that I love about having German friends is the way that hospitality is lived out in many routine encounters. When we get together with our German neighbors or friends from our village band, certain rituals are always followed. First, you shake hands or hug every person who enters the group. You eat whatever food or drink they offer you. And when you leave, you don’t just say goodbye to the host and guest of honor, but to everyone you have had a conversation with during this encounter. “Danke für die Einladung – thank you for the invitation” and “Bis bald! – see you soon.”

When we first encountered these rituals, it felt very personal… very intimate… and very foreign. But I learned a lot about hospitality through these encounters. And what a glad burden it is to be in relationship with other people.

2^nd lesson – This encounter teaches us that no job of service is too lowly for any of us. We applaud people like Mother Theresa who served in the worst slums of India and think of that as a special calling reserved only for those who are the holiest believers. I’m certainly no Mother Theresa because I must confess that sometimes I feel like God has called me to ministry that doesn’t take my strengths into account. There’s a lesson to be learned for just that reason.

I’m not a builder, but I spent 12 summers carting around youth and building materials to work on mission houses in rural South Carolina… that’s why I still drive a truck today. In Spokane, I volunteered at the transitional homeless shelter, a place for families to sleep safely as they worked with agencies to find permanent housing, jobs, and training. It didn’t take an MDiv to change beds, cook breakfast, play Candyland, and clean showers, but it sure did give me a better understanding of my own privilege and how much I have to share to meet the needs of others. And it reminded me that ministry isn’t just about teaching theology or biblical study. Ministry is also about meeting people’s needs so that they are ready to tackle their discipleship journeys in whatever ways they can.

3^rd lesson - By ritualizing this story and making it a focus of our worship tonight, we are living out the biblical story. This story helps us develop muscle memory. It’s how we can ride a bike or drive a stick shift, even if we haven’t done it in years. It’s how we get to the bathroom in the middle of the night without having to turn on the light. Worship often includes the kind of role-playing that helps us relate to the bible story. We celebrate the Eucharist, not just because Jesus commanded us to, but to remember that Christ is with us in the bread and wine. Here, we share a common meal where everyone sits in equal seats. Afterward. we leave the table to live and serve in the world.

Washing feet is a tangible reminder that we, too, are called to be a different kind of people, ones who gladly receive and serve, as Christ has called us to do. This reminds me of a quote from practical theologian, Henri Nouwen: You don't think your way into a new kind of living - you live your way into a new kind of thinking.

Washing other people’s feet was the most astonishing act of service that Jesus ever did. He presided over a meal that unites us all at the same table… one bread, one body, one Lord… And in the next 24 hours, he was arrested, tried, beaten, stripped, and killed as his ultimate acts of service to all of humankind. And because we know the rest of the story, even as we approach the darkness of Good Friday or Karfreitag (Grief Friday in German), we see the resurrection on the horizon and know that Jesus’ ministry was not stopped by his death.

Some people do need to have their feet washed – the elderly, the sick, and others who cannot do this for themselves. But the real lesson here is that we should all be humble enough to do for others, serving out of love and devotion to God.

Jesu, Jesu, fill us with your love,
show us how to serve
the neighbors we have from you.

This week I read a story on Facebook – the author was unknown, but it felt like a good closing story for tonight. A young woman spent the day with her dad and one of their tasks was to package the honey he had collected from his hives that morning. When they took the lid from the 5-gallon bucket, they found 3 small bees struggling to get free, drowning in all that sticky goodness. “Can we save them?” the daughter asked. “No, I’m sure even if we tried, they would never survive,” he replied. “Well, can we at least kill them quickly so they don’t suffer?” was her answer. So they scooped them out and place them aside while they got the rest of their supplies in order.

It didn’t take long for a few bees to seek out the small yogurt lid with the three trapped bees. Within an hour or so, these three little bees were surrounded by all of their sisters and they were cleaning the honey from their nearly dead bodies. A short time later, there was only one little bee left in the container. She was still being tended to by her sisters. And when it was time for the daughter to leave, they saw that all three of the bees had been cleaned off enough to fly away and the container was empty.

Those three little bees lived because they were surrounded by family and friends who would not give up on them, family and friends who refused to let them drown in their own stickiness and resolved to help until the last little bee could be set free. And I think that’s what Jesus is modeling for us. He is washing the feet of people who don’t even know how much trouble they are in. And he is doing it knowing full well that it’s one of the last impressions he has to make.

We will not wash one another’s feet tonight, but if you like, you may wash the hand of another person as we come to share in communion tonight. There’s a bowl with some warm, soapy water, additional water for rinsing, and clean towels for each one to use. And if that feels like too much of a risk, it’s OK. Jesus understands.

While we go about the ritual of foot or handwashing, please remember that this is a symbolic act of devotion. He didn’t require anyone else to provide that service that evening… he just left them with the example and the impression to take into the future. If I have learned anything in the last two years, it’s that our service doesn’t have to be the actual washing of hands and feet. When we continue to wear masks for extra safety, wash our hands, keep up to date with our vaccines, and eliminate unnecessary risks, those are worthy acts of service in our current environment.

Jesus calls us to serve. Our life’s mission is to see that while those acts of service may change from season to season, the underlying love is always the place from which we begin. Remember, we love because God first loved us. So let us serve the world in love. Amen.

Peace, Deb

Sunday, April 10, 2022

Sermon - Who's on Trial? (Palm/Passion Sunday C)

Sunday Of The Passion: Palm Sunday, Year C April 10, 2022
Luke 23:1-49

Who’s On Trial?

The people were ready for this day. They had been waiting for him for years, reminding themselves of God's promise to restore them. The Romans were in control of their land and their lives. But God would send the one who would lead them into a new time, a new life, where they would be free from the powers of this world.

The city of Jerusalem would welcome Jesus as that person today. "Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!" was the cry as he rode a colt into the city, as the people waved palm branches alongside the road. Here was the one who would save them, who would deliver them, and they would follow him.

What was it the people saw, or better yet, wanted to see, in Jesus? What did Peter see that would make him blindly proclaim he would never depart away from Jesus? What did Judas see in Jesus that he would follow him? Who are these people that followed Jesus through the streets of Jerusalem in what was both an act of religious devotion and political proclamation? In those moments, I’m sure they believed in their loyalty. But we know it didn’t last. Within the week, they would desert him, betray him, and call for his death? Had Jesus changed that much between the time he was hailed as the messiah and the time of his arrest and trial?

It turns out a lot can happen in seven days. After his triumphant entry, Jesus may have been the one arrested and killed, but it was the people who were on trial. When he rode into Jerusalem, he was admonished by the Pharisees to silence his followers. He would not, allowing them to say their piece. When he was taunted by the guards and soldiers, he did not silence them. When he was taken to the place he would die, the crowds gathered to hurl insults his way, and when he was hung on the cross, he was mocked. He could have asked God to intervene, but he didn’t. Those final days and hours became a courtroom scene of their own, where the people were put on trial as they testified against themselves.

As hard as it is, our observances of a Holy Lent and Holy Week ask us to enter into the moment and discover ourselves on trial. When have we declared our loyalty to a person, a team, a party, and then backed off when there were questions, or there was prolonged losing, or we felt disappointed? When have we run away or kept silent as someone else was being hurt, or falsely accused, sometimes when they are not even present to defend themselves? When have we joined in at poking fun at someone different from ourselves, rather than standing apart from the laughter, or even taking on their defense?

Today we don’t just tell a story of an innocent man going to his death; through the liturgy we offer today, we re-enact the trial of all people, including ourselves. The stage is now set, let the liturgy now present the facts… How we confess with our lips but deny his rule by our lives. In the death of Jesus upon the cross, we are found guilty. No one came forward to rescue him. No one stayed when he was arrested. We could not be found. Many questions remain, and maybe we will never fully understand how we walk in their same footsteps. But the greatest proof of God’s love for Jesus and us is that Good Friday is not the end of the story.

Our epistle lesson comes from Paul’s letter to the Philippian church. Imagine my surprise when I discovered I’m been pronouncing the name of the place wrong for all of these years – they pronounce it with a long “E” at the end, not an “I” as it is written in English. It is the site of one of the first Christian churches in Europe, and he held a soft space for the people there in his heart. In this letter, Paul writes from prison, disappointed that he cannot go to them amid their current struggles. The second chapter is a hymn, probably adapted to a worship setting and deep in theological meaning, echoing some of the same theology as written into the Nicene Creed.

Here in Philippians 2, we hear a word about the incarnation of Jesus. Paul reminds them that Jesus did not seek escape from trouble or death, but took on his humanity fully, revealing something deeper and truer about his nature. Paul offers Jesus as an example of humility, hoping that they (and we) will follow Jesus’ example so that we can experience unity with him and one another, in our servanthood together and the sharing of common goals and beliefs.

Jesus’ trouble feels overwhelming when we hear the story from beginning to end, but his story does not end with today’s gospel reading – we know how the rest of the story goes. Jesus’ vindication came through resurrection – moving him from humility to glory. Ours comes as we receive his sacrificial gift and example so that we can be vindicated through him.[i] The story doesn’t end with death, and the cross of Jesus Christ becomes not a sentence of condemnation for those who abandoned him, but rather an instrument of forgiveness and mercy.

We start Palm Sunday with shouts of support and acclamation, but the liturgy quickly proceeds to the hard stuff, the dark underbelly of truth about those who surrounded Jesus… and the truth about us. In reality, this is a difficult day. It should be. We are asked to look in a mirror and see who we are and what we are capable of, both good and bad. We can announce our loyalty, but clearly, we can be persuaded to abandon that loyalty in short measure. We can say we are present with one another, but can also betray another for the sake of our safety and run away in times of trouble. These are not things we like to admit about ourselves. And they are certainly not the things we want to talk about with others.

Hearing the Passion story read aloud requires us to hear the whole story… not isolated verses, or bits and pieces of scripture, but the whole tragedy as it unfolds over a long and difficult night. Yet even as we see ourselves in the story we tell today through the liturgy, we are reminded that this day and this week are not about us; they are about God's love for us…a God who longs to be in relationship with us, as we are, and as he created us to be. Look at the lengths he is willing to go through to see that relationship grow and flourish. This day and this week are about a new relationship with God made possible by his love for us and all the world, and a reminder that the road to that relationship will often be more difficult than we imagine or expect.

So, enter this week in humility. Expect to see yourself in the frailty of people like Peter, Judas, the soldiers, and Pilate. Enter the week in joy, anticipating the power of God to work in and through our frailty to make us new through his mercy. Enter the week in thanks, for the hope we have depends not upon ourselves but upon a loving God who won't let us go, regardless of our sins. Amen.

In the 4^th century, a Cappadocian bishop name Gregory of Nazianzus, produced a series of writings exploring the Trinitarian nature of God in the scriptures. His summery of Paul’s letter to the Philippians gives us a down-to-earth statement of why Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection are so important to us. As you hear these words, think of Jesus’ last week, and of Paul’s hymn of exultation, which encourages us to not just take a step in Jesus’ shoes, but to become more like him.

Let us become like Christ, since Christ also became like us; let us become gods because of him, since he also because of us became human. He assumed what is worse that he might give what is better. He became poor that we through his poverty might become rich. He took the form of a slave, that we might regain freedom. He descended that we might be lifted up, he was tempted that we might be victorious, he was dishonored to glorify us, he died to save us, he ascended to draw to himself us who lay below in the Fall of sin. Let us give everything, offer everything, to the one who gave himself as a ransom and an exchange for us. But one can give nothing comparable to oneself, understanding the mystery and becoming because of him everything that he became because of us. [Gregory of Nazianzus, Festal Orations, p. 59].[ii]

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

Peace, Deb

[i] Bob Cornwall, TAKING THE ROAD OF HUMILITY - LECTIONARY READING FOR PASSION SUNDAY (PHILIPPIANS 2), April 4, 2022, https://www.bobcornwall.com/2022/04/taking-road-of-humility-lectionary.html

[ii] Ibid.

Sunday, March 27, 2022

Sermon - The God Who Welcomes Us Home (Lent 4C)

FOURTH SUNDAY OF LENT, YEAR C March 27, 2022

2 Corinthians 5:17-21; Luke 15:11-32 Panzer Liturgical Service

Today’s parable is the third in a series of stories Jesus told about being lost and being found. The parables of the lost sheep and the lost coin are straightforward, at least for most of us. Each of us has some memory of turning the house upside down to look for something of value that we have misplaced. I think that one of the benefits of being in a state of constant moving is finding things we thought were gone forever, usually in the back of a drawer or under a piece of furniture.

But if you ask someone to name a parable, this along with The Good Samaritan and The Sower is perhaps one of the best-known stories from the New Testament. People of all ages recognize it as the parable of the Prodigal Son, probably because that’s how it is labeled in most of our bibles. And because we know it so well, when we hear it, we begin to identify with at least one of the characters. One person might say, "I am the youngest child, too, so I understand how this youngest child might want to get out of the shadow of that older brother and go out on his own." Or maybe someone who was the oldest child might think, "Yea, the baby always gets the breaks. My parents were never that easy with me." Or maybe we even identify with the father and really know the joy of homecoming and what it means to have what was broken made whole again.

Reconciliation. In the Revised Common Lectionary, this passage appears with epistle and Old Testament passages that also speak of reconciliation – reconciliation between members of the family of God, and reconciliation between us and God. And the parable contains several examples which highlight those understandings.

The younger son swallows his pride and comes home, willing to accept the shame he feels he deserves for his irresponsible behavior. But instead of rejection, the son is welcomed, "with opened arms,” and we experience the father's joy and acceptance of his young son's homecoming as evidence of and a model for the kind of forgiveness that God and Christ call for us to model in our own lives. We even see the father building a bridge between the two sons, attempting to reach a level of reconciliation between them so that they might all be able to celebrate together. But this is more than a nice story about reconciliation. There is a lot more this story has to teach us.

We call this the parable of the prodigal son. But what does “prodigal” mean? Webster’s Dictionary says that it spending money or using resources freely and recklessly; wastefully extravagant. This definition encompasses all of the negative understandings we have about the younger son and his behavior. We look at the younger son and especially if we are the oldest children, it brings back many of the memories we have about our younger siblings and our perceptions about how we grew up.

But the word prodigal also means, having or giving something on a lavish scale. This definition takes away the negative feelings we have about the younger son and brings into light the amazing gift of love that the father was sharing with both sons.

Jesus tells a story of a younger son coming home to open arms, with the father throwing a celebration dinner in his honor. And as expected, the older son was incensed. Can't you just hear him grumbling, "This is not fair. Look at all the stupid things he’s done and my father just welcomes him back... with open arms and then throws a party as if none of it ever happened. Can you believe it?"

Whether we want to admit it or not, we feel some of those same things. When we see ourselves as hard workers and others as getting something for nothing, it’s hard not to get mad or hold resentment for others in our hearts and in the way we respond to them.[1]

Today, we are called to hear this parable with new ears. The younger son gave up the life he had to find his way, but through wasteful spending and living, he lost everything of value, except the hope that his father would not send him away if he came back. The older son stayed home and took care of business, the model of appropriate behavior, if not thought. He didn’t understand that while the younger brother might not have a place in the family business, he would always have a place in the father’s heart.

This is not just a story of prodigal sons who wasted family assets and threw away family relationships. This is also a story of a prodigal father, who loved extravagantly, welcoming home a lost son and encouraging a faithful son to become a united family again, no matter what happened in the past.

Philip Yancey tells a story about a young girl from Traverse City, MI. She has an ongoing battle with her parents about the clothes she wears and the company she keeps. She finally runs away makes it as far as Detroit. On her second day, she meets a man who offers her a ride, buys her lunch, and promises her a safe place to stay. He gives her some pills to make her feel better, and you can imagine the rest of the story. For a little more than a year, her life is pretty good, except for the men who visit nightly. But when she gets sick, the man she has come to depend on takes her away from her comfortable surroundings and leaves her on the street with just the clothes on her back and without a penny to her name.

As winter approaches, she finds herself sleeping on the grates outside a large department store, with one eye open to those who might want to do her harm. One morning she wakes up and realizes that at least if she went home, someone would feel obligated to help her out. So she leaves a message on her parent’s voicemail that she will be arriving on the bus that night, and if no one is there to meet her, she will just keep going to Canada.

As the bus approaches Traverse City, Cherry Capital of the World, she is afraid. And as the bus turned the corner, she is overwhelmed to see every relative she has - parents, siblings, grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins, wearing goofy party hats and holding signs proclaiming, “Welcome Home” and “We’ve missed you!”

She starts to share with her dad all the things she has been thinking of on the bus, but he just wraps her up in his arms and says, “No time for that now – you don’t want to be late for your party – we can’t believe you’re finally back home.”[2]

Amy-Jill Levine, professor of New Testament and Jewish Studies at Vanderbilt University, reminds us that God always goes to meet people where they are. The Jewish listeners among Jesus’ disciples would hear this story and think of all the families in God’s story who had two sons… and how many of them had the same problems this father in Jesus’ parable had. In God’s world, older sons don’t always stay in the father’s good graces and younger sons often look like they are getting an unfair break.

And while we may think that the father is showing favoritism to the younger son, that is not the case. Not only does the father meet the younger son before he has even gotten back to the front door, but he also went out to bring the older son to the party, reminding him that he has lost nothing even as his younger brother is welcomed back as if nothing he did in the past matters. This trio of parables tell us that finding the lost, reclaiming children, and gaining a new understanding of what it means to be family is not only good news for the Jews but for everyone who hears this new, better good news about God and Jesus.[3]

The God we worship is a generous, extravagant, prodigal God… who forgives our sins, stands with us in our joy, and holds us up in our pain. But amid that generosity, comes this news… that God did not just forgive my sin, or your sin, but also the sin of those who, to us, seem unforgivable.

Our God is not an either/or God, but is a both/and God. And even beginning to understand the scope of God's love and forgiveness helps us to know God in a new and deeper way. And in the process, we learn a very important lesson — that however much we may want to, we cannot draw the lines which define how God's grace is going to operate. God will be who God will be.

Paul talks about this in his second letter to the Corinthians. In Christ, we are a new creation, and we are called to make peace with those who were previously our enemies. Love is now the pattern for our living. God doesn’t hold our sins against us, and that is how God is calling us to live toward others (and ourselves). We are ambassadors for Christ. We are called to appeal to others – to reconcile ourselves to them and bring them into the family of God.

John Newton was right. God's grace is amazing, and not only saves us from our sin but saves us from ourselves.

Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound, that saved a wretch like me.

I once was lost, but now am found; was blind, but now I see.

Through many dangers, toils, and snares, I have already come;

‘Tis grace hath brought me safe thus far, and grace will lead me home.

Jesus didn’t give us parables to teach us how to live. He gave them to change our notions about who God is and who God loves.[4] Whomever we identify within this story, from whatever slant we read it, in its entirety, this parable tells us who we are as God’s children, and who God is as Parent of us all. This is not just a parable about reconciliation. It is also a parable about the Kingdom of God.

A man had two sons, one went away and made a lot of mistakes, and one stayed home and was faithful. And when the one who went away came home in disgrace, the father loved him and celebrated his return. And when the one who stayed home was upset, the father reminded him that his love is big enough to love both of them and that homecoming is worth all the celebration in the world.

Peace, Deb

[1] Debie Thomas, Letters to Prodigals, Journey With Jesus, 2/28/2016
http://journeywithjesus.net/essays/856-letters-to-prodigals
[2] Philip Yancey, What’s So Amazing About Grace, 1997, pp 50-51.
[3] Amy-Jill Levine, Short Stories by Jesus, Chapter 1: Lost Sheep, Lost Coin, Lost Son, 2014, pg 29.
[4] Yancey, p 53.
See also David Lose, Lent 4C – The Prodigal God, …In the Meantime (2/28/2016) http://www.davidlose.net/2016/02/lent-4-c-the-prodigal-god/
[5] https://www.christianaid.org.uk/churches/weekly-worshi

Sunday, March 20, 2022

Sermon - Living in the Balance - Lent 2C

THIRD SUNDAY OF LENT, YEAR C March 20, 2022
Isaiah 55:1-11; Psalm 63:1-8; 1 Corinthians 10:1-13; Luke 13:1-9

During this season of Lent, we are asked to think about our inner life, prayer, study, and Christian conversation. We remember that the season before Easter was a time when people reflected on the sacrament of Baptism, the time when each Christian is marked and sealed as Christ's own forever. Through the prayers and responses of the baptismal liturgy, we recall that we are to support each child and person who is baptized for all of their lives in Christ. The refreshing Baptismal waters beckon us and strengthen us in our relationship to God and with each other.

The people of the first century believed that when bad things happened, it was because of some sin in their lives… sound familiar? But Jesus’ teachings so far have been turning this idea on its head. In this passage, we hear the people asking about recent disasters… who is responsible? Are the people being punished for acknowledged or unseen sin? Were those Galileans who died as victims of Pilate's anger against religious expression were the most guilty? They died as they were acting on an ancient religious custom. Or maybe it was those eighteen people crushed by the falling tower by the pool of Siloam who were the guiltiest? After all, hasn’t the whole of Jewish law taught that awful things happen in a person’s life as punishment for the sins he or she has committed? But the people around Jesus are also wondering about themselves. Are they guilty? What does God think of them? Is it too late for them to know the repentance and forgiveness that come from God? Jesus responded to them by telling a parable, another story that’s difficult to understand.

A man planted a fig tree right in the middle of a vineyard, in a place of honor. The sun shone on it; the rain watered it; it was tended to along with the grapevines that grew around it. When it was time for the tree to bear fruit, the owner came looking for wonderful, delicious figs, the sweetest of all fruits. But as he walked closer to the tree, he saw the tree was empty… no fruit… nothing. He decided to wait another year to see if the tree would produce fruit. He waited through the change of seasons, but when he returned to the tree a year later, it was still empty. The man, being he thought quite reasonable, waited one more year for the fruit to come, but when he walked to the tree for the third time, he found the same thing: there was no fruit on the tree.

Now he was angry and told the vineyard keeper to cut down the tree, for it was useless to him. But the vineyard keeper said that he would take special care of the tree for one more year. He loosened the soil and dug around the tree so the rain could reach deeper into the roots. He fertilized the tree to give it the extra nutrients it needed. And there the story ends. I wonder what happened the next year. Was there any fruit when the man came back? Was the extra care the vineyard keeper gave worth it? Did the fig tree finally come into its own? And why is this the parable Jesus told when the questions swirling around were about guilt and sin?

If we look at the story closely, we hear Jesus telling the people that guilt is pretty easily spread around… that is, there’s enough guilt for everyone. Suffering is not a punishment for guilt or sin. If that were the case then many of us should be suffering much more. The parable of the fig tree brings Jesus’ story around to its real point: that life is not about suffering, it is about redemption.

All of us need redemption. Each one of us needs to repent, turn our lives around to follow God, and know God as the patient vineyard keeper, not the impatient landowner. Jesus’ followers wondered the same things that we do. How can God care for us, love us and forgive us, even if we are as guilty as everyone else in the world? The parable reminds them that God gives us time to grow and become fruitful, which sometimes means needing a little extra love and care, like a fig tree that had not yet bloomed and given up sweet, sweet fruit.

Now, 2000 years later, we need to hear the same story, even though we live in a very different world. Our world has daily doses of random death and violence. The statistics of drug abuse, teenage suicide, and childhood violence are higher than the number of children who attend church school every Sunday across the United States. And we wonder who is responsible for all of the suffering, who is more guilty than the rest. This parable reminds us not to get too full of ourselves - we are all guilty and in need of redemption. When we turn to God, when we receive the intentional care and nurture that a relationship with God brings, that is when our lives will bear real fruit.

We don’t do this alone. Through baptism, we are planted and watered and tended and given time to grow into our roles as members of the household of God. The promises of the baptismal covenant lead us to more experiences of God’s grace. We experience God’s fruitfulness through our relationships with one another as brothers and sisters in Christ. We learn from one another about the faith as we share in the breaking of bread, in prayer and conversation, and through it all, we experience what it means to live a life that reflects Jesus in the world, serving others, and striving for justice and peace among all people. This is our call each and every day.

In our reading from Isaiah, we hear this: “Come to the waters – you who are thirsty.” It is the invitation of a lifetime, reflected in the waters of our baptisms, calling us to a life beyond the needs of our daily lives. Remember the story of the woman at the well? Jesus asks a woman to draw water for his refreshment, but before she follows through he offers her living water to satisfy her every need... spiritual, emotional, physical needs, all taken care of with a word of hope, and promise of freedom and eternal life.

Think of the baptismal promises we make as the fig tree. In the ELCA, the liturgy calls us 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; and strive for justice and peace in all the earth.” In the UMC and Episcopal liturgies, we promise to renounce wickedness and reject evil, to accept the freedom and power God gives us to do that, and to confess Jesus as our Lord and savior, putting our whole trust in his love and grace.

Think about these words. Live these words, these promises… think of them as the fig tree… think of how they have to be nurtured, just like the fig tree in the vineyard. Think of how hard that is to do in a world where instant satisfaction is a way of life, and where the world is giving us the idea that promises do not matter, when in fact they really do.

It is not easy. It takes a lifetime of work. But when we take them seriously, lives are changed, and eternal life is not just achieved in the world to come, but in this world, too.

Early in my ministry, I preached on these texts at a service where we were baptizing a 4-month-old child named Branden. Born to a 15-year old mother, there was every reason that Branden’s life would not turn out so great. His mother was a sophomore in high school. His parents did not marry, but his dad was a part of his life. It would have been easy for her to give the baby up for adoption, but instead, her mom and grandparents worked at forgiveness and reclaiming trust, promising to help her make a good life for this new baby. And after his birth, they were more of a family than ever.

And as Branden began his journey of faith, other men in the congregation came up to stand with the family to say to them, “You are not in this alone.” They took seriously the promises they made as members of the congregation present at his baptism, infusing Branden’s life and his family with the peace of forgiveness and hope for the future. They lived out the belief that even though we come to Jesus guilty, we stand beside him redeemed. And today, Branden is a healthy, happy 24-year old with, beloved by many people, brought up within a community of faith that took their promises seriously.

This life of faith requires us to live in the balance between judgment and forgiveness… in the place between living by rules and believing in the power of God to make each of us a new creation. And as new creatures together, we can become a force for change, a light in the darkness, a tangible representation of all that God is and does in the world.

At first glance, the story of the fig tree feels like a story about fear, but really, it’s a story of hope. We bear the best fruit when we are cared for and nurtured. This is true for tomatoes and flowers, but also each of us. As we go forth from this place, let us take the promises of the Baptismal Covenant into our world, not just saying that we believe in the redemption and forgiveness of Christ, but living it in all that we do. And let us recognize God as our patient gardener… in God’s world, it is always Spring and there is much work to be done. Thanks be to God.

Peace, Deb

Sunday, March 13, 2022

Sermon - Pressing On (Lent 2C)

Lent 2 C March 13, 2022
Philippians 3:17-4:1 Panzer Liturgical Service

In 1971, I was confirmed in a Methodist church in SC congregation. I went to youth group with my friends, even attending church semi-regularly when I was in college… I’ll admit part of our motivation was eating the fancy brunch at the Clemson House with my meal card if I brought a church bulletin each week. After college, I settled in nearby Anderson and worked as a blood bank technologist at the local hospital. I joined a small UMC congregation in a crossroads called Wild Hog, near Pendleton, and with a group of youth and other volunteers, spent my summers immersed in the Conference’s youth mission camps.

Eventually, I heard the call, first as a Lay Speaker, then as a candidate for ordained ministry. My years at Duke were wonderful, expanding my knowledge and growing my faith. In 1993, I was ordained as an Elder in the South Carolina Conference. I thought that might be the most exciting thing that would ever happen to me. And then I fell in love with this tall, handsome Air Force pilot and life was never the same. In 1995, we got married with the belief that we could serve God better together than apart. 27 years later, we still think that's true, but there have been detours and bumps along the way.

When we moved to Stuttgart, Germany in 2014, it was our 11^th military move. I am amazed at the places and ways I have been able to serve God and the church, both thru appointment and as a volunteer. But there was a particularly difficult period in my life during our third Air Force move. In IL and ND, I was able to secure appointments, but in NJ, that didn't work out. For the first time in my adult life, I was not earning a paycheck. I was not a leader in a congregation. People only knew me as someone's wife, and as great as that is, it didn't feel like enough.

Sundays came and I didn't want to go to church. In hindsight, I realize that I was angry with God and maybe even with my husband that my call to ministry had been interrupted. And then on one gorgeous September morning, the world went crazy, and only 90 miles away from our base, the events of 9/11 unfolded before us.

Within a few minutes, my neighbors and new friends were calling me to ask me questions of faith. "How could God let this happen?" "What do I tell my children?" and "Where do we go from here?" When we planned a neighborhood prayer meeting, they looked to me for guidance. And when that group turned into a weekly PWOC bible study, I realized that this was my next call. God hadn't made a mistake at all; it just took a lot longer than I hoped.

It's easy to get caught in our preconceived notions about the future. Are we going to the right schools? Have we chosen the right careers? We want the perfect house in the best neighborhood with the most amazing car sitting in our three-car garage with our amazing kids and pets by our sides.

None of these things are wrong, but this part of Paul's letter to the Philippians reminds us it is actually what people see us doing that speaks volumes about who we are. We can say that we are Christian, reciting scripture left and right, but if we are not living out the Good News every day, the power of that proclamation is lost. Being a Christian is more than just claiming Christ. It's about becoming more like Christ through actions and works to point to Jesus. Paul's letter to the Philippians was written to help them stand fast and grow amid a secularized culture. Here are some things he tells them and us about how to live an authentic, fruitful faith.

First, the life of faith is a life of transformation. We have to be willing to grow into our faith. My roots in the Anglican and Methodist traditions are especially helpful here. John Wesley claimed to be a Christian long before he had a personal experience of faith. He served as an Anglican priest in several places, always exacting a strong amount of discipline on his parishioners, so much that it got him expelled from the colony of Georgia in North America under the cover of darkness, leaving his Savannah congregation behind.

But he did not stay that stubborn and willful. People related to the Wesleyan tradition celebrate May 24^th as Aldersgate Day. In his journal entry from that night, he claimed his heart was "strangely warmed," grasping the notion that Jesus didn't just die for the whole world, but for each one of us individually. That was his turning point. The rest of his ministry was focused on first helping people turn to Christ, and then growing into their faith by intentional discipleship.

So, what is intentional discipleship? If you play a musical instrument, you have to practice to get better. If you want to be a better cook or a better athlete or a better parent, you are only able to do that if you keep working to make progress toward perfection. The same is true for the life of faith. Paul calls that "pressing on." Choosing Jesus is easy. Living a life of faithful discipleship is hard. It takes courage. It takes practice. We keep pressing on, even when we don’t feel like it, even if others work against us, even when we’re not sure we believe anymore. The good news is this: God still believes in us.

Second, we come from traditions that understand the life-long nature that the life of faith calls us to. The moment of our belief/understanding/acceptance of God and Jesus is important. But they are not the end of our journey – they are important but do not define us. The faith journey is ongoing. It is a process. Sanctification is the process that fine-tunes us for God’s use. It helps us practice the ways that we put God and others first, considering our own wants later. And it is ongoing.

Next week, our Confirmation class will think about what this kind of life might look like. We will look at spiritual gifts and spiritual disciplines. I often remember how I rebelled when I figured out what my spiritual gifts were. Teaching was among them – I didn’t want to be a teacher. Anyone can be a teacher, I thought (erroneously, of course.) But once I leaned into the gift, in concert with my spiritual gifts for Faith and Shepherding, I found a joy in my faith journey that opened up activities and relationships I would have never explored otherwise.

Wesley’s vision of “pressing on” went by the name Christian Perfection. This did not mean that we are expected to live perfectly. We all make mistakes and bad choices. But we are supposed to be going toward perfection. That doesn’t mean never breaking the rules. We should be trying to get better as we move forward in faith, living for Christ. It does mean we take seriously Jesus’ command to love God with all our heart, soul, mind, and strength, and to love our neighbor as ourselves (Mark 12:28-31). Pressing on is about growing in faith so that we can become "whole" - and more fully the people that God created us to be.[i]

The third way Paul challenges the Philippians is to meet people where they are, not where we want them to be. The Gentile converts in Philippi were being required to follow Jewish dietary laws, of which Paul was highly critical (See Acts 15). Instead of placing an extraordinary burden on those around us, he calls us to be imitators of him and Christ in our relationships with those around us. Sometimes this means hanging out with people and in places that make us uncomfortable.

My work with families and youth in some of the most impoverished communities in SC taught me that God is most real and present in those places, and even more so to the helpers than to those being helped. Think about how must trust it takes to invite teenagers, ministers, adult volunteers with power tools to come and work on your home. It also takes a lot of faith to go into a community very different from your own and experience God in the relationships you can build there, but only if you press into uncomfortable, God-filled places.

I last preached on this passage in February of 2016 at the church where I was confirmed and raised as a young person. At that time, Germany had received over 750,000 persons as the war raged in Syria. Resources were taxed, and many folks had difficulty assimilating into the uber-structured society. But the German community kept surprising us at their willingness to help these families and individuals make new lives and homes here. Many churches chose to take a “friendship” approach to ministry with their new neighbors, not a salvation approach. And even in the first year, many churches reported ongoing conversations with unchurched migrants asking how to have a relationship with Christ, responding to the gift of hospitality freely offered.[ii]

Six years later, we have a new exodus in Europe, again because of war. Once again, families will be moving into our communities to make new, sometimes permanent, lives. In our village newspaper this week, we had an appeal to homeowners to make houses, apartments, and even rooms available for short and long-term use by citizens of Ukraine. They also left with only what they could carry in their hands and on their backs. But many of them also bring with them their Christian identity, as Catholics, Protestants, and Orthodox Christians. They will be seeking Christian community, and once again, we will be asked to offer them the gift of friendship, as we seek to be and see Christ in the world.

We are never too far from redemption. God is waiting for us, even seeking us, to follow him down the road. He is not only waiting for us to turn to him like a father sitting by the door after a long absence, but God is actively pursuing us and present with us along the road – like on the road to Emmaus (Luke 24:13-35). When we look through his eyes at the world around us, we see all the ways that we can be the hands and feet and voice of Christ's love in the world.[iii]

As Christians, we are called to be imitators of Christ. While this doesn’t often make our lives easier, and often pushes us far outside our comfort zones, it is what the call of Christ is all about. Will Willimon and Stanley Hauerwas wrote a book over 30 years ago that has stayed with me, called Resident Aliens. They argue that God calls us to be part of a Christian colony in the midst of the world, not just to get people to heaven, but to live lives that model the love of Christ. Rather than try to convince others to change their ethics, Christians should model a new set of ethics that are grounded in the life, death, and resurrection of Christ.”[iv]

Our biggest challenges will often be the work of building bridges when it feels safer to build up walls. Our citizenship in the Kingdom of God doesn’t just ask us but requires us to build bridges when it feels more natural to put up walls. Paul reminds us to keep our eyes on the prize, press on, and stand firm in Christ... if that isn't a lifetime's work, I don't know what is.

Paul gives concrete advice to the Philippians as the letter closes:

Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice. Let your gentleness be known to everyone. The Lord is near. Do not worry about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.
Finally, beloved, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is pleasing, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence and if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things. Keep on doing the things that you have learned and received and heard and seen in me, and the God of peace will be with you.

Thanks be to God.

Amen.

Peace, Deb

[i] http://wesley.nnu.edu/john-wesley/a-plain-account-of-christian-perfection/
[ii] http://www.umc.org/news-and-media/how-a-church-overcomes-hostility-to-christianity, also http://www.umc.org/how-we-serve/german-bishop-on-migrants-meet-people-not-problems and http://www.umc.org/how-we-serve/united-methodists-in-germany-welcome-refugees
[iii] Joseph Yoo, WHEN YOU REALLY WANT TO WEAR A MASK TO CHURCH, Ministry Matters, 2/15/2016 (http://www.ministrymatters.com/)
[iv] Robb McCoy, Pulpit Fiction Podcast, https://www.pulpitfiction.com/notes/lent2c/#Philippians3=

I take my identity documentation very seriously. For the last 27 years, I have carried a card identifying me as a dependent of a member of the US Armed Forces. On any given day, I may be asked to show this card between 3 and 8 times, depending on where I am going and what services I require. I have a US and a European driver's license. And because I live outside the boundary of US borders, on most days I travel with my US passport and my SOFA card (Status of Forces Agreement). The first one gives me permission to live in Germany as a sponsored foreign resident. The second allows me to travel outside of German, where I hopefully broaden my understanding of the world.

But however important my US citizenship and documentation are, they say anything about what kind of person I am. Even the things I say about myself paint only a partial picture. More than anything, people know me by the way I behave, and whether the things I say about who I am match the way I live.

To build up our spiritual gifts, we practice our faith in many different ways. Among those activities were bible study, enthusiastic worship, personal prayer and devotion time, Christian conversation, and service to those in need. We are also called to be accountable to one another. John Wesley never meant to start a new church or denomination, but asked his parishioners to join Class Meetings as a way to keep humble and keep active in the faith. He believed that our willingness to confess our shortcomings is just as important (or maybe even more so) as our willingness to proclaim Jesus as our Lord and Savior. As we develop Christian friendships and share both our joys and our failings, we are able to see how and where God is calling us to live and serve. Sometimes others see things in us we cannot see.