In pm's words
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October 24, 2016, 8:00 AM

the one where we remember Jesus was for all...


Sermon from October 23, 2016

Text: Luke 18: 9-14

Grace and peace to you from God our creator and our Lord and Savior Jesus who is the Christ – will y’all pray with me? Let the words of my mouth and the meditations of all our hearts be acceptable in your sight O Lord, our rock and our redeemer; amen!

Before we dive into our gospel text today, I wanted to mention something about a question I’ve received throughout my ministry that I never thought I’d receive so much. That question? “Pastor – why do we share the peace?”

I’m glad you asked that question. And, be honest – there’s a lot of you who’ve thought that question, but have never voiced it. The sharing of the peace. At a specific point in the service people get up and share the peace with one another. They shake hands, they might hug. Smiles are shared. Words are exchanged, usually ‘peace be with you, peace, or Christ’s peace.’

Why do we do that? I know that for many of you who have been in the game of life longer than I has noted that the church didn’t always have that. So, even after years of doing it – it still feels a little weird. It takes you – and everyone – a bit out of their comfort zone. Especially if you practice the roving and walking sharing of the peace where you literally move from your pew to share peace with those around you.

But, why do we do it? Throughout the history of the church, think about all those who have come to sit in the gatherings of churches from all over the world. You’ve got people from all walks of life, you’ve got people who hold on to wildly differing views on a whole range of topics, you’ve got people who identify themselves differently from one another. All of them – all of us – come to our respective places of worship to gather, hear, sing, receive, and be sent.

Within that service there is one time where each one of us treats those around us specifically as equals. There is one moment that we put aside our differences, look past our prejudices, look one another in the eye and say, “Peace be with you.”

The sharing of the peace is that one time we specifically and intentionally engage in what Paul has written that in Christ there is no slave or free, Jew or Greek, male or female. We’re one body. We’re all children. God loves us all. Christ has shared peace with each of us and in turn we share that peace with one another.

Think about that as we hear this parable. Jesus talks about two men who’ve come to the temple to pray. The first talks about his accomplishments and feats in faith. He then goes off thanking God that he’s not like ‘those others.’ Those who are less than him – especially that guy in the back.

We then hear from that guy in the back – the tax collector. His prayer? Just have mercy on me. A sinner.

Normally, I’d probably turn at this moment and say, “Be like that humble tax collector – not the braggadocios Pharisee. I think most people would be OK with that. And, it’s probably good advice.

But, if I moved in that direction, I’d be cheapening this parable.

You see, parables themselves always tell a story about who God is. How God acts. Where God is present. By focusing just on these two individuals, we miss out. As the adage goes, we’d lose sight of the forest because of the trees. In fact, praising the humble tax collector here (and imploring that we should be like him) would potentially lead each of us to pray – as theologian David Lose writes, "Lord, we thank you that we are not like other people: hypocrites, overly pious, self-righteous, or even like that Pharisee. We come to church each week, listen attentively to Scripture, and we have learned that we should always be humble." If we do that, we end up sounding a lot like the Pharisee we pray that we aren’t like.

As, I read this parable I can’t help, but notice where these two are. They are in the temple. The place where God is said to be present. They both have come to give prayer and honor. They both do it in vastly different ways, but they’ve both come.

But, because of Jesus’ death and resurrection when I look at that parable I begin to see a big problem in how we should interpret Jesus’ words and story here.

These two men are different. The Pharisee is the one that is looked up to, the one who has the right – whose earned the spot – at the head – closest to the seat where God is. Within his belief system – his righteousness has been proven because he is successful – he isn’t like the others. The tax collector is in the space where he ‘should’ be too. Within his faith culture – he’s not seen as ‘important.’ He’s someone that you know would probably cheat you. He collects money for the occupying army of Rome. He’s sold out.

That’s how the temple worked before Jesus comes along. Jesus’ death and resurrection has put aside that thought and belief.

Jesus’ ministry was for all people. Of course, he was particularly caring for those who are outcast, down trodden, and oppressed – he viewed those lives as urgently important. But, Jesus shared meals with all people from all walks of life, from all stations of life. Rich and poor. Young and old. Those from here and those who lived over there.

There was not a group of people that Jesus didn’t speak to, didn’t proclaim to, didn’t ask to be watchful, didn’t attempt to see where God was truly at work and present.

Jesus did all of that – proclaim, share, tell – with everyone.

So, naturally his own death and resurrection was for all people.

Jesus didn’t die and rise just for the rich folks. He didn’t accomplish victory over sin and death just so the poor and oppressed would have hope.

Jesus’ life, ministry, death, resurrection, and ascension helped change how we understand how both we experience God and how God experiences us.

That God blesses and love and forgives and invites us all equally because we are children of God. All of us.

God doesn’t love the Pharisee more than tax collector or vice-versa. I don’t believe God desires us to be the desperate humble of the tax collector nor the just about bragging prayer that is the Pharisee.

In Christ – both are loved and welcomed into the temple to worship and give thanks for what God has done.

In light of that knowledge and faith into who and how God is. We can begin to see a bit into how we experience one another.

It isn’t so much that the Pharisee should be knocked down a peg or three. It isn’t that the tax collector should pray in such a way that he feels he has no worth.

Instead, in Christ we look to one another and say, “Yeah – I’ve been blessed. God, thank you for the life I’ve had. You’ve helped me from following into paths that don’t seek you fully. I’ve strayed from time to time – I know I’m not perfect – but, you’ve always been there. I see my brother over there. His life hasn’t been as smooth as mine. We’ve taken different paths. Yet, I know you are with him too. Help me – help us – to see where you are so that we might both live in faith together.”

Conversely, I feel that the tax collector’s prayer could be more like, “Father – I’m a sinner. I know you forgive me, but I keep taking paths that don’t lead to you. I know you love me, I know it even when it is hard for me to understand or even feel it. I see my brother over there. He can be a little loud and speak in such a way that I don’t agree with. But, I know you’re with him too – that you love us both. Help me – help us – to see where you are so that we might both live in faith together.”

With this parable, we get sucked into identifying as one or the other in this story. The truth is – we are both. Sin filled and filled with pride. Yet, we – especially as Lutherans – understand that God still loves us. Not so that we just stay the same, but so that we continually live the life of faith that Jesus has called us into.

That life that tears down the borders, the stereotypes, the walls of our lives. Living in such a way that all are welcomed in this space. That all gather – together – recognizing that we are one body of Christ. We are all children of God. For there is another saying that I love, this one not as old as that one about forests, but just as impactful. Whenever we find ourselves in a spot where we draw a line between ‘us’ and ‘them’ God normally shows up on the other side.

Where we share the peace – and our lives – our smooth and rough edges – in this life of faith. Where we see one another as equal in the eyes of God. Knowing that all of us have worth, grace, and love. Where we live into this life of faith together, rising up – together – as we give praise and honor to God through our words, our deeds, and thoughts.

Amen.

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October 17, 2016, 8:00 AM

the one about respect...


Sermon from October 16, 2016

Text: Luke 18: 1-8

Grace and peace to you from God our Creator and our Lord and Savior Jesus who is the Christ – will y’all pray with me? May the words of my mouth and the meditations of all our hearts be acceptable in your sight O Lord, our rock and our redeemer; amen!

So, is it just me or does Jesus – throughout Luke’s Gospel – always seem to find the most odd and unsettling ways to talk about God? The shepherd who abandons the majority to find the one. The woman who searches for the ‘worthless’ coin. The dishonest manager of money. Now, the unjust judge.

What in the world is Jesus getting at?

Jesus continually implores to his disciples and to us that God does not, never has, and never will fit neatly into the ‘boxes’ of our design. No matter how often we try to corner God and place the Holy into our tidy little spaces, Jesus comes along and just disrupts it all. It never makes us feel particularly good when that happens. For we are stretched beyond what we thought was possible, but in the end, I think it further expands how we think about God, how different God is from what we think God should be like, and how much effort and strength God goes through to show love for all creation.

So, Jesus talks about this judge. And this judge is, I think, uncommon among judges. You more than likely would not find, particularly during this time, a lot of judges who did not fear or were not in awe of God in some way. Especially since being a judge was somewhat of a holy vocation. They were the ones who interpreted scriptures, heard the cases of those coming forward, and then enacted justice through their decrees.

Now, judges then – and still today – are seen as those who are filled with honor and have at least a modicum of respect for those who come before them. When we encounter those, who appear that they don’t have respect for those they hear from, it usually doesn’t end up well for them. People rise up, they stir, and more. So, to be told and then later hear from this own judge’s lips that he has no respect for anyone is rather odd and unsettling.

We are also introduced to a widow. Now, remember, that during this time a widow was someone who did not have much say or voice in the world – let alone her own life. As a widow, she has lost her ‘power’ because she’s no longer married. There also wasn’t a great chance for her to be married again because of the customs of the day. We can also presume that she doesn’t have any sons as well. Why? Because she is the one who is coming forward to the judge crying out and demanding justice.

This widow’s cries for justice in her life become so loud and bothersome to the judge that he eventually relents and hears her case. He agrees to stand up for her and provide justice – however it is to come. But, I want us to be certain of something here. It isn’t so much that the judge relents because the widow is a pain, or an annoyance, or just irritating him.

No, the English here subdues what is actually going on. This widow is relentless. In fact, in my study and in my conversations this week when the judge says, “so that she may not wear me out” is probably more closely translated to mean ‘so that she won’t give me a black eye.’

The judge appears to have a lot to lose both physically (if we’re literal in that whole ‘giving him a black eye’) but, also within the eyes and minds of those around him. Her consistent please for justice are probably causing him more angst than he expected. I can imagine that her relentless cries aren’t just simple taps on the shoulder that would be persistent – and annoying – but, mostly meek and mild. No, I imagine that this is a woman who accosts him in the street, who bangs on his door, and who physical beats upon him to hear her cries.

At the end of this parable and story, Jesus seems to compare God to the unjust judge. Which makes us squirm a little bit. Is Jesus really saying – when coupled with the first verse of this snippet of the gospel that if we just badger God enough through our relentless prayers that God will finally, with a large and exasperated sigh, listen to us?

No, I don’t think that’s what Jesus is saying.

But, that also doesn’t mean that God does not listen to nor answers prayers. I believe God does. Possibly not in the ways we expect, but God does listen and does answers our prayers.

As I read this text, I couldn’t help but think about what justice meant since we are introduced to a judge who doesn’t seem to have much in the justice department.

We could talk at length as to what justice means simply because we all have differing opinions on what that might look like. We all might agree that we should care for the poor, but we all might have a different way of living into that just action. We may all agree that caring for the environment in our lives and community, but the action of justice taken towards that might differ substantially from one person to the other.

I think what we are introduced to in this short gospel text is the potential bedrock and foundation of what justice is founded upon. Jesus helps us to see where justice actually begins.

I think and feel that Jesus is trying to tell us that justice begins with showing our fear and awe of God by respecting those around us.

Think about that for a minute. This – as one of my favorite preachers has said –minimalist definition of just behavior is very helpful to how we live into the justice and righteousness that God calls from us.

This judge at first refuses to listen to one of the most helpless and vulnerable individuals in his society. She wails upon him relentlessly and he refuses to heed to her cries. That is the action that makes him unjust. It isn’t his previous decrees, pronouncements, or verdicts. It isn’t his eloquent use of language or his astute interpretation of the law.

It is the simple act of refusing to listen to the widow, and we can presume others like her, that has made him unjust.

When we think of the world today, I believe that is something we should take seriously as we listen to Jesus’ words this morning.

What does it look like to give and have respect for those around you? How can we further lift up those whose voices seem to carry little weight because of who they are, their station in life, what they have done, or where they’ve come from?

Again, how we live into that just action in whatever avenue of life it takes place might be different. We may disagree with how that is lived into. But, where we begin that conversation, where we begin that action, begins with how we treat and view others.

By giving respect. Expecting respect. Honoring those before and around us. Being treated with respect garners some expectations. An expectation of being listened to – fully and completely. Of being seen in the most positive of lights. Being seen and understood as someone who has worth – no matter what.

That is the beginning of justice. Something that God calls for us to live out and into. Showing our fear and awe of God by respecting those around us. Respecting our spouses. Respecting our friends. Respecting those whose views differ from our own. Respecting those who others look down upon.

We live into this life of faith of fear and awe of God by respecting those who are around us.

What then of the widow? As we expect to be seen with respect, we also expect others to show respect for those around them as well. The widow is a reminder to us that as we pray without ceasing to our God, we also relentlessly speak out about the injustice in our lives, in the lives of others around, in the lives of those most vulnerable in society.

God is not the unjust judge. God is the one who listens, God is the one who respects – from the beginning – those whom God has created. God does stand with the oppressed and the ignored. God does soften and warm the hearts of those who whose cold gaze drifts above those beneath them. God works through all of us to bring that justice to life. God might be working that justice on us.

God just might be using you – me – all of us – to bring that respect of life to the world.

Amen.

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October 11, 2016, 9:00 AM

the one where we show gratitude...


Sermon from 10/9/2016

Text: Luke 17: 11-19

Grace and peace to y’all from God our Creator and our Lord and Savior Jesus who is the Christ – will y’all pray with me? Let the words of my mouth and the meditations of all our hearts be acceptable in your sight O Lord, our rock and our redeemer; amen!

So, this morning we read another interesting story about Jesus. He and his disciples are still traveling around the area and they find themselves in a spot between Samaria and Galilee. An ‘in-between’ state. Sandwiched between the area that practiced the predominant faith of the time – Galilee – which was Jewish and the area that was a cousin of the Jewish faith, but seen as unclean in many respects – Samaria.

In the middle of those two areas there happened to be a leper colony within a village that Jesus and his disciples came upon.

Now, we are already seeing Jesus in an ‘awkward’ area, in-between two differing cultures and people. Within that area is a colony of those that neither wanted anything to do with. A colony of those afflicted with leprosy.

Leprosy is an infection that attacks the nervous system resulting in people not being able to feel and or lose their extremities because they cease to feel pain in those areas. How most experience those with leprosy (which is all but confined to tropical Africa and Asia) is that they develop pustules, deformities, lesions, and more across their skin, their hands, and their face. For a faith and culture at the time that centered on ‘cleanliness’; Leprosy was about as unclean as you could get.

So, Jesus meets 10 individuals with Leprosy he tells them to go and show themselves to the priests. As they depart they are cleansed. One of those men – who was a Samaritan – prostrates himself before Jesus in thanks and gratefulness. Jesus remarks that the other nine are absent and that this man’s faith has made him well.

First thing I wanted to point out in this is that all 10 individuals who had leprosy were healed. They were healed because they followed Jesus’ command and were obedient to him. He directed them to go and show themselves to the priests. They went. They were healed.

This story isn’t so much about ‘those ungrateful ones who didn’t get healed’ as it is about being grateful for the blessings that God does bestow upon us.

If we can fault those nine for anything in our gospel this morning – after they’ve followed Jesus’ command to show themselves to the priests – is that they don’t show gratitude for what has been done to them.

Which makes it even more interesting and radical that the one who does show gratitude to Jesus is the one who is specifically stated to not be of the Jewish faith. Again, the author of Luke’s gospel uses a story of Jesus’ ministry to further turn that mirror on the people and followers in the faith.

How quickly we take for granted the good things in our life. Or in fact – how quickly we take for granted many and all things in our life.

I once knew someone who whenever I asked her how she was doing, her response was always, “I’m upright and vertical and grateful for that.” It always seemed like a pretty strange answer to give. But, it always made me think – as stressful and frustrating as the day could be I’m still grateful to be – like her – upright and vertical each day.

Each of those 10 lepers were cleansed. I imagine that they too were overjoyed in their healing – who wouldn’t be. I’m sure they went and told their friends, family, and all who they saw that day and in the future. Maybe some took it for granted. There really isn’t any way for us to know. What we do know is that one of those 10. The one who was singled out as even more different than the others – a Samaritan – was the one who chose to give voice to the thankfulness he felt.

He turns to give thanks to Jesus and to give thanks to God.

He gives the thankfulness and gratitude voice. He chooses to express that in a way that the other nine do not. He looks at his life and what has immediately been done and cannot keep in that voice.

He gives thanks. He chooses.

He could have chosen – like us – to give voice to all sorts of emotion that day. For we too have opportunity to choose and live into things like fear, anger, or sadness. We too have the choice to live into frustration, annoyance, or regret. We have the choice to live into the emotions we have.

Sometimes it is far easier to choose one of those other emotions. Sometimes the most difficult thing we can think of doing is choosing gratitude.

When confronted with anger, we may choose to retaliate and strike back. It’s difficult to say, “I’m grateful of your passion on this topic.” Seeking empathy can be difficult. When confronted by setback, it is easy to choose frustration – either with yourself or with those involved in your work. It’s difficult to say, “I’m grateful for what I’ve learned through even this.”

Living in a life of gratitude and thankfulness for what we have been given by God – not taking for granted the life which we live – is what Christ models for us and lifts up in this story about the 10 lepers. This Samaritan, turns to Jesus and gives thanks for what God has done for him. Jesus’ response is that he has been made well. He has – according to the Greek – been saved. His faith has saved him.

It is all mixed and rolled up – faith, thankfulness, gratitude.

Yet, sometimes it’s still really difficult. I’m not advocating that one should always just be happy and move past all those other emotions. Sometimes we aren’t in the position quite yet – because of grief or loss or hurt – to give voice to the gratitude of our lives. Sometimes it is difficult to live into gratefulness when everything around us seems to be about accusations, excuses, degrading words and phrases, venting anger within our culture. Written in headlines, from the lips of the ones most hurt in society, tapped out on keys through Facebook, twitter, and Instagram.

Jesus isn’t commanding us to be thankful or to be grateful for what God has done. Nowhere does Jesus say, “You better gives thanks… or else.” Jesus doesn’t command us, but instead invites us into this life of thanks and gratitude. Jesus invites us to live our lives like the Samaritan who turns towards Jesus. If you’re not there yet? It’s OK. Jesus understands. God never stops inviting us into living in gratefulness. In the meantime? We are surrounded by this community of faith that will and can give thanks – through word, song, and prayer – while you are not able.

God invites us – continuously and always. Invites us into giving voice to gratefulness and thankfulness.

Giving voice to what God has done in and through Jesus for us.

Giving voice to that emotion that at times seems so distant.

Giving voice to that feeling that at times seems like it is most desperately needed in our world.

Choosing to live into the faith that God has invited us into. Amen.

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October 3, 2016, 7:58 AM

the one where we have faith in God's long game...


Sermon from October 2, 2016

Text: Habakkuk 1: 1-4, 2: 1-4

Grace and peace to you form God our creator and our Lord and Savior Jesus who is the Christ. Will y’all pray with me? May the words of my mouth and the meditations of all our hearts be acceptable in your sight O Lord, our rock and our redeemer; amen!

So, this past week has been rougher than usual. At least in my personal life. I have a friend who is struggling with cancer and dealing with an insurance company that won’t approve the coverage of the treatment doctors believe he needs to survive and fight. Another friend valiantly lost her battle with cancer this week. She was a good one and someone I’ll remember greatly. Then there was the news this week of a shooting in South Carolina at an elementary school. More shootings, more protests, more looking into the mirror as a nation in where we hold those prejudices that prevent us from hearing and listening to those most deeply hurt and afflicted. I also was witness to the debate this past Monday and then witness to the hate, vitriol, and sniping back and forth not only between candidates, but between those who support them.

It’s been a rough week.

And then, I got to read Habakkuk. And let’s just say, my mood didn’t quite improve.

Habakkuk is a pretty short book from one of the ‘minor’ prophets in our early scriptures. He lived between the fall of the Jewish kingdom and the first exile of his people into Babylon. He was there to speak to the people as a mouthpiece of God as an army continued to march its way towards them. To drive them out of their land, and push them further and further away.

Habakkuk lamented.

We got to read this morning the first part of that lament. The rest of the lament isn’t much different. A cry out to God with the underlying question of “Why, O Lord?” Why does this happen – why is this happening? Do you not care? Are you not able or capable of seeing?

Habakkuk laments.

We lament too. I lament.

We join in with Habakkuk and we too cry out to God as we live through this life. This life where at times it seems in line with Habakkuk when he writes, “you have made people like the fish of the sea, like crawling things that have no ruler.”

Habakkuk’s lament - our lament - ultimately rests in the question, “God do you not care?”

Death stands at our doors. Fighting and violence erupt. The people don’t listen to one another. Where is the care for those who are in need? Why do the good ones die so young?

Habakkuk laments.

We lament as well.

Then, the prophet seems to take a deep breath and states, “I will stand, I will keep watch. How will God respond to me?”

And God responds.

God responds in the way that at times I don’t think we expect.

When someone takes us to task, calling us out, accusing us of ‘not caring’ our first response isn’t to be ‘kind.’ We want to defend, we want to make excuses, we want to make people know that they are wrong about their accusations.

We want to fight back. At times, I think we expect to see and hear that from our God because that’s how we react.

Yet, as God responds to Habakkuk I don’t read malice. I don’t read indignation. I don’t read annoyance.

In God’s response, I feel empathy. I feel understanding. I hear a different story.

Write the vision. Make it plain on tablets so that a runner may read it. There is still a vision for the appointed time.

I read that, and I hear the abiding peace and comfort that only comes in faith of a God that plays the long game. That sense of mystery that I am a part of something much larger than myself, my family, my congregation, my community. That mystery that I don’t understand, I’m not given a peek or a cheat sheet for.

But, I rest in the knowledge that God does care. That God does notice. That God is here.

I rest in that comfort because of the knowledge and faith of what was to come – much longer after Habakkuk lamented and wrote this piece of scripture – what was to come in the incarnation. In the birth of Jesus. In the proclamation of the kingdom of God by our Lord, in the death and resurrection of our Christ.

And yet, there are times that even my resolve and steadfastness in that knowledge wavers, and yet I am blown away in other’s calm during struggles in their life.

My friend – James – is living in the unease of cancer and the dis-ease of an insurance company that has denied coverage for his treatment. He and his girlfriend are inspirations in how they have approached this point in his life. There is hope – deep hope – in their words. At times it seems like he is comforting us with each new tale of a roadblock or a hoop to maneuver. God’s got this.

My friend Tanya, who died this week from her long struggle with cancer, approached her impending death by saying she was ‘calm and at peace.’ She wrote another witty, beautiful, and heartfelt post on Facebook before her death in which she talked about how much she’s loved her life. How incredibly proud she was of her family, her friends, and the work she was able to do. After her death, her young daughter Sabin spoke about her mom, “My mom lived an epic life.” God’s got this.

Today in Habakkuk, we hear from our God that there is a vision for the appointed time. There is hope and comfort in that, but there is also a challenge in it as well for us.

We are not to sit and wait for that. Just watching the world burn around us. Not sitting in our comfortable places – simply on our couches in front of the TV – simply in our pews on Sunday morning – we are not called to simply sit this one out.

For God’s words to Habakkuk are the same to us – write it plainly for even runners to see.

Not just big. But, in ways to provide comfort. The runners that God speaks of this day aren’t doing it for their leisure or their health. They are fleeing – fleeing the Chaldeans who continue to march on. Spreading news of what is coming. In many ways, speaking of ‘the end’ in fear in the context of their lives.

We have that too. Many people are running through and running by. Not simply to ‘just run’ for the fun of it. Running out of fear of what they see behind them.

We as the church – as the community of the faithful – are called to write – to engage – to provide comfort – in the news of the Gospel. Not to be ‘congratulated,’ not to be ‘noticed’ by God. But, to spread that news – that deep abiding faith that brings wholeness, peace, and calm to a life in the midst of the tumbling river – by writing it in large letters so even those running can see, and know, and notice.

We as the church proclaim that good news that has already been given to the world. We as the church write it on tablets so that all might see and know. We as the church do not simply wait on the fringe, but we walk boldly with our words held high – God’s got this.

How we do that as the church depends on who we are engaging with, having a conversation with, developing relationships with – but, the message remains – God’s got this. God does care. God’s got the long game. God has called us to be a part of this too.

And when we live into that life? Wow, will it indeed be epic. Amen.

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September 29, 2016, 8:53 AM

October 2016 Newsletter


Grace and peace y’all! I hope your September was wonderful and the cooler weather that has moved in as we begin October allows us all to enjoy and be a part of God’s creation even more!

I debated on whether-or-not to write something like this, knowing full well that there will be those who don’t like it, there will be those who will understand, and there will be those who wonder what the fuss might be about. But, I’m going to do it. I’m going to talk about politics…

The mere mention of that word and this topic makes my hair stand on end. However, I wanted to approach this in a way that is a little different than what you might expect. Take note I’m not going to, nor would I ever, tell you to vote for one candidate or issue over another. I don’t do that. I won’t do that.

As we (quickly) approach Election Day on November 8th, I wanted to lift up a view that Martin Luther had involving the role of a Christian in politics. He advocated an idea that has traditionally been termed, ‘The two kingdoms.’ As Darrell H. Jodock says in his (excellent) article called Lutherans & Politics: The ‘two kingdoms’ and putting the news of others first in an issue of The Lutheran (now Living Lutheran) from October 2012. He states that the ‘two kingdoms’ moniker might be a little misleading. He advocates that we should instead translate Luther’s views as the “two governances of God” or the “two ways God influences the world.”

Luther’s idea is that God works in two ways in ordering our lives throughout the world. On one hand, God works through the gospel to overcome estrangement, suffering, and more to bring people into relationship with God. This of course is done through the living out of our faith as we have all promised to do when we were baptized and when we affirmed our baptisms (our new hymnals – Evangelical Lutheran Worship - makes these promises very clear on pages 228 and 236). 

On the other hand, God works through authorities and structures to create the kind of order that allows humans to flourish. These structures include the role of the government in all its aspects – elected officials, police, transportation, safety boards, and more. God has created both ‘kingdoms/governances’ for our well-being. They both come from God.

So, how then do we ‘vote’ as a Christian? First and foremost is that we vote.  Period. We include ourselves into the life of this kingdom/governance so that God can (and will) continue to work to enact justice, safety, and well-being to all those within a government’s jurisdiction. We get to be a part of that. This is a gift given to us by God. Please vote.

Voting one way or another does not make you more Christian, or more faithful, or more of a disciple than someone who votes differently from you. We are all the body of Christ and God continues to shower us with grace and mercy no matter which box we check, arrow we fill in, or button we push on Nov. 8th.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                       

In that same issue of The Lutheran (I have copies of the article in my office and I’d be more than happy to let you read it), there is a wonderful study guide as well. In it Pastor Robert Blezard of Trinity Lutheran Church in Arendstville, PA gives us nine exercises that one should use as she or he approaches Election Day. I’ll lift a few of those exercises up:

Let righteousness roll down – Amos 5: 1-24 is a poignant piece of scripture to read that shows us how humanity truly operates and opens us to God’s re-ordered priorities. How is Amos’ call for justice reflected in our lives and in those who we elect?
Thou shall not lie – The eighth commandment tells us not to lie, which during the political season seems to get thrown out by all political parties through a myriad of half-truths and untruths. How are we holding up this commandment as we speak on issues and candidates with our friends, family, and others?
Love your neighbor – We are called by Christ to love our neighbors. Our neighbors are people of different (or no) faiths, different races, different political parties, difference economic levels, and different lifestyles. How is our call to love our neighbor reflected in our lives and voting?
Tone it down – We don’t teach our children to call others names or use language that is hurtful toward others. We normally put a stop to that kind of behavior. Yet, for many in political debates this is par for the course. One can have political discussions without resulting to word fights.

So, on November 8th, vote. But, before you vote be in conversation with scripture, in prayer with God, and in study over issues and candidates. Be in dialogue with others as well. I’ve discovered in my own conversations that the political ‘divide’ between two people is never as great as others make it out to be. Those conversations are and can be fruitful, faith-filled, and relationship deepening. If they continue to be honest conversations and not word fights filled with the sort of rhetoric many of our political leaders practice.

We have been given a wonderful gift by God – that is to be an active part of this ‘kingdom’ that God has given us. So, go and be a part of it.

If you would like a copy of the article by Mr. Darrell H. Jodock or the study guide, stop by the office and I’ll be more than happy to give you a copy!

 

Love y’all. Mean it.

-     pm

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September 26, 2016, 8:00 AM

the one about indifference and the rich man...


Sermon from September 25, 2016

Text: Luke 16: 19-31

Grace and peace to y’all from God our Creator and our Lord Jesus who is the Christ – will y’all pray with me? Let the words of my mouth and the meditations of all our hearts be acceptable in your sight O Lord, our rock and our redeemer; amen!

So, who here has ever heard this gospel story as a stewardship sermon? Just gives you warm fuzzies doesn’t it? You better use your wealth to care or you’ll be like the ol’ rich man – suffering in the ‘bad place’ not even able to quench your thirst with just the dip of a finger in water.

But, I’m not going to go that route this morning – don’t worry. Though, from our other texts leading up to this week, it is good to use what we have in abundance to help care for and share with those in need around us. Not because one might have more, but because God calls us to serve those around us.

I want to move a little bit in this story and focus on what it means for us to see or notice things around us. Did you know that whole industries and marketing strategies are designed so that we don’t have to look anywhere other than straight ahead. Go to any supermarket in town – Wal-Mart, Bi-Lo, or Food Lion and take a look at where the items you purchase tend to be placed.

If you buy more popular items, name brands, etc… where do you end up finding them? Right on eye-level. You don’t have to go looking down to find the most popular cereal, cheese, or even beer. It’s all right there at eye level for you. It might not even be the best or the cheapest item in comparison to the others, but it’s the one that has paid the most to make your life easier and take advantage of the fact that we can kind of be lazy and indifferent.

It’s done this way because we – as humanity – have a tendency to not look down. We march and look forward, sucked into our own little world as if we have blinders on and the marketers of the world have taken shrewd advantage of that. They put the brightest, flashiest, and at times the most popular items right in our eye level. They know most of us won’t look to find that particular item, so they make it so it’s just placed right in front of us.

And this whole marketing strategy reminds me of the rich man in this parable. Every day he passed by Lazarus who was at his gates. We aren’t given much information about how well they knew one another – though the rich man does know Lazarus’ name. However, it can be reasoned that the rich man – nor anyone else –bothered to look down and see him. Instead, they passed by with indifference throughout his life. Not even noticing to care that only the dogs would come to soothe his sores.

If anything, the point that Jesus is trying to drive home in this parable is not so much that his rich man didn’t use his abundance of stuff to help Lazarus (though, I’d wager that Jesus would say he probably should’ve), but instead that the rich man lived in indifference to Lazarus’ need.

The rich man didn’t see Lazarus. Sure, he may have noticed him just enough to know his name. But, he never saw Lazarus. He more than likely saw something ‘less’ than himself. Something not worthy to be noticed or interacted with. That seems harsh to interpret that after only a few verses, but look how the rich man acts after both men have died.

Even in the ‘bad place’ the rich man is still operating from a view of superiority. Still trying to get the person ‘less than him’ to go and do his bidding. Tell Lazarus to deep his finger in water and place it on my tongue. Send Lazarus to go and see my brothers so they won’t end up with me.

Now, there is a tendency to think that what Jesus is saying is that we better shape up so we don’t end up where the rich man is sent. I’m not so sure that’s what Jesus is getting at. Remember, parables are intentionally abrasive, exaggerated, and hyperbolic. I’m not so sure this parable is about how we ‘get’ our eternal reward like Lazarus and not like the rich man.

Instead, I think it focuses more on how we live our life now.

The rich man is indifferent to the world around him. Sucked into his own little bubble, not caring enough to even look outside it to see those in desperate need around him. So in-ward gazing to not even see the one in need at his front gate. Someone he may have had to literally step over in order to enter his home.

So, I ask you… who is Lazarus in your life? Is there someone – perhaps even a group of people – that you fail to notice? The one who cry out, yearning to be free from whatever it is that ails them. Notice them, see them, help them.

For you see, we as humanity do have a problem. We cease to ‘see’ things that are right in front of our eyes. We get sucked into our little worlds and we fail to see that which is all around us. The needs of others at times are so present – all the time – that it is as if it has just faded into the background. For the rich man, Lazarus became a part of the wall, a crack in the sidewalk, something so insignificant that it wasn’t worth paying attention to.

Have y’all done that before? I know I have. Yes, even your pastor.

I’m not sure I’ve shared this story before, but it is still worth repeating. When I was on internship in Alabama, I went to the Synod Assembly and arrived around lunch time. So, naturally I was hungry and went to the best and quickest place to eat that I knew – Jimmy John’s. That particular chain was directly in front of a downtown park. I got my sandwich and sat down facing the greenspace from within the restaurant. I noticed that there was a lot of activity in the park across the street and there were a lot of people. It took me a bit to realize that each of those people were homeless. Here I was eating my quick and easy lunch, just watching the people push grocery carts, carrying bags, and sitting in the hot sun. I was in a hurry and knew there really wasn’t much I could do. I may have said a prayer. I finished my meal and left to go back to the big convention hall to register for the Assembly.

I was there for three more days. I walked by that park every day as I had free time, as I went to meals, as I fetched coffee for the bishop, as I gathered with new friends to go out in the evenings for fun and fellowship. I never saw another homeless person.

They were still there. They were still in the park. They didn’t just magically disappear. I just failed to notice them. I continually looked past them. In my mind, they became as ‘insignificant’ as the trees and bushes in the park. Just there. No need to stop and notice.

I remember being hit with that realization when my internship supervisor asked how the assembly was a few weeks later. I was shocked. I was heartbroken. How could I do that? So easily too!

I mention that story not to say that I’m assured of going to the ‘bad place’ because I didn’t notice people in need one time. But, that day forever changed how I try to live my life. I know how easy it is to discount and look past and see over those around us. We do it a lot. All the time. It is when we recognize that we do it, and find ways, by the grace and call of God, to help and care for those in need that we move away from that life of indifference.

I’m going to share one final story – this is a good one.

As I read this text and thought of my own experiences I happen to see an article that came out in the last few weeks about someone that I now hold great respect for. I’ve never met him. He isn’t famous. But, he’s someone that I hope I can one day be like.

His name is Arnold Abbott. And he got arrested. Again. Second time in a week. In fact, he was so brazen after that first arrest he told those around him – including the ones arresting him – You’re going to have to do this again. You can’t stop me.

Twice he has been caught this past week breaking the law, and I fully expect that it’ll keep happening too.

His crime? Feeding the homeless of Fort Lauderdale. Mr. Abbott, the 90-year-old founder of his Love Thy Neighbor charity – which hands out hot and healthy meals to the homeless of Ft. Lauderdale was asked, “Why do you keep doing this?” His answer – the most gospel oriented answer I’ve ever had the pleasure of hearing or reading –

“These are my people. And they deserve to be fed.”

Wow. That’s the gospel.

Throughout his entire ministry and his continued proclamation of the gospel through the guidance of the Spirit, Jesus has wanted us to see life like Mr. Abbott.

These are our people. We are in this together.

Amen.

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September 12, 2016, 8:00 AM

the one that isn't a pastors favorite...


Sermon from September 18, 2016

Sermon text: Luke 16: 1-13

Grace and peace to you from God our creator and our Lord Jesus who is the Christ. Will y'all pray with me? Let the words of my mouth and the meditations of all our hearts be acceptable in your sight O Lord, our rock and our redeemer. Amen!

If you ask any pastor about their favorite passages to preach on, you'll get a lot of different answers; perhaps the parable of the loving father, maybe the beginning of John’s gospel, or the Emmaus Road story (which is mine). But, one thing will be consistent throughout their answers - this Gospel reading won't appear among the list of favorites.

This is a tough and a weird gospel story for us this morning. We're used to Jesus giving gospel nuggets through means that seem well - good. Caring for one another, loving God and neighbor, extolling the love of all for everyone. Those are the nice and tidy messages that we like to read from Jesus. Then, along comes this parable. The first part of the parable seems easily digestible and the last part of the reading is more easily understood. But, there are two verses in here that make us scratch our heads and say, "Did he really say what I think he said?” Make friends for yourselves by dishonest wealth? What does that even mean? A person is commended for being 'shady' with someone else's money? What in the world is going on here?

This is one of those texts where I must be honest and say - y'all these words from Jesus are about as odd and difficult to understand for me as quantum physics – I just don’t really get it.

It reminds of what Bill Gates - former CEO of Microsoft would do with his programmers. He'd usually assign the laziest programmers with the toughest tasks. Seems pretty stupid, right? But, his thought was that those individuals were more likely to find the easiest way to complete that task. Pretty shrewd now huh - especially when it works.

So, we have this manager and steward of money who not only hasn’t been good at his job, but it is implied that he has stolen from his boss – a lot. Word gets to him that he’s been figured out and he is about to be let go. His first thought isn't to apologize or even rectify the situation. In fact, he sees the writing on the wall and knows that there is no way he can get out of this situation cleanly with his boss, so he decides to make the outcome for him the ‘best’ it could be. He's not able to do manual labor and he has too much pride to accept charity from others. And, when you think about it - he has the same conversation we've all had at the prospect of losing or ending a job. We know we're not able to do some things and there are other things where we'd rather just not work than 'work' in particular jobs. We all have those lists.

So, this soon-to-be former manager of money hatches a plan to double down on cheating and ‘forgive’ some of the debt of the ones who owe the most to his master. He brings them into his office and says - you owe 50% now and you chop 20% off the top. Now, he does this so that when he is let go he'll be seen in a much different way.

Instead of being looked at as the one who 'mismanages or steals money' he'll instead be the ‘guy who cut me a deal.’ He scratches the back of the ones who owe his master the most because the expectation is that they’ll owe him a favor – a big one. Don’t get me wrong, what this manager has done is wrong. He has cheated, lied, and has stolen from what is not actually his. But, he still protected his life.

Then the one this dishonest manager is stealing from commends him for his shrewdness. Bizarre, isn’t it? The dishonest manager has put him in a very tight spot. Sure, he fires his manager, but based on culture and societal rules he can’t ‘fix’ the mistake because he’ll be looked at as someone who doesn’t honor others. It’s weird and a culture vastly different from our own.

So, as we hear and read this story, Jesus says that we should make friends by means of dishonest wealth, and then we hear the last verses of Jesus speaking today and we're thrown for a loop. For Jesus says you cannot serve two masters. You cannot serve mammon (money/wealth) and God. You can only serve one.

Here is where I think a lot interpretations can get sidetracked. We see money and wealth as this bad thing (and it can be, believe me) and we think the ‘bad’ guy in the story is the owner and master. He’s wealthy. Don’t be like that guy.

I don’t think Jesus is speaking to that. Being wealthy, having abundance, and being more well off isn’t a bad thing. However, how we pursue that wealth and at what cost can be bad.

We read in Amos where the prophet is speaking to those in power – especially the ones who complain about not being able to ‘work’ because it is the holy season or the Sabbath. The ones that sell the scraps for profit. In an economical culture – making money wherever, whenever, and however you can is a strength and a plus, but it isn’t what God calls us into.

And that hits us right to the core - especially as relatively privileged Christians living in the American society. It hits us at our core because we want to be able to have the best of both worlds. We want to gain favor in the economy by making the 'most' for ourselves. Always building our portfolios stronger, doing what we can to 'get the most' for ourselves. That's what the world sets up for us. That's the honest way in which the economy around us works. We want to be able to do all that the economy says we can and we also want to live a life to God. Yet, the ideals of God are counter to the ideals of the economy.

Where the economy says - "Get the most for yourself." God declares, "Give to those in need."

Where the economy shouts - "Obtain the most, by any means necessary." God cries out, "Care for others."

Where the economy urges – “Work, work, work. It’ll be better for you later.” God whispers, “Rest in and because of me. It’ll do you good now.”

Jesus is telling us to be 'shrewd.’ Being shrewd by using the rules of money against itself. Where we buck thinking and trends to invite others to participate into the kingdom of God. That doesn't mean that Jesus is saying we all should go rob banks to hand out to the poor like Robin Hood. Again, Jesus isn’t saying that the squandering and cheating that this dishonest manager participates in is good. He isn’t. What this manager, the steward of someone else’s stuff does is bad. But, Jesus is saying that we should find ways to further the kingdom of God - through the systems in place so that all might participate in it in shrewd ways. Where we abstain from bowing down to the almighty dollar - the bottom line of our lives - and live in a way where all are cared for, supported, encouraged, and loved.

Jesus didn't come to sustain the rules and systems of the day. Jesus' ministry, death, and resurrection was the epitome of 'rule breaking.' Jesus did come to shake things up, buck trends, and work through the systems in place to proclaim, spread, and point to the kingdom of God at hand. Jesus calls us to be shrewd - to be wise - to be cunning - in proclaiming the kingdom and 'changing the rules' in that proclamation.

Jesus makes a bold proclamation this morning for us - what would our life be like if we approached our faith with the skill, savvy, and shrewdness that we use in dealing with our ‘monopoly money’ of the world?

Where can we be shrewd in our lives - in our praise - in our days and nights - in our proclamation of the Kingdom of God?  Amen!

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September 12, 2016, 8:00 AM

the one about our searching God...


Sermon from September 11, 2016

Text: Luke 15: 1-10

Grace and peace to you from God our Creator and our Lord and savior Jesus who is the Christ – will y’all pray with me? Let the words of my mouth and the meditations of all our hearts be acceptable in your sight O Lord, our rock and our redeemer; amen!

So, I know I’ve mentioned before that I don’t particularly agree at times with the titles that certain parts of our scriptures have been given; particularly when it comes to Jesus’ parables. This morning we again read two parables – that are incredibly well known – and yet, as much as they technically are titled correctly, their titles still don’t convey the fullness of what Jesus is proclaiming.

We have these two wonderful parables – the parable of the lost sheep and the parable of the lost coin. Both stories are incredibly well known, but again because of how they are titled it tends to limit how we read and interpret what Jesus is telling us.

In fact, if I had the authority and power I’d probably name these two parables something like, “The parables of the stuff God does that we the people would think was pretty stupid and foolish – and thank God for that.”

Have you ever tried to read these parables with fresh eyes before? Seriously.

In the first parable Jesus tells us about a shepherd with 100 sheep and one of them goes missing. He leaves the 99 in the wilderness and goes in search of that lost one. He finds the one and gathers his community together to celebrate what he has found.

In the second parable, a woman has ten coins and she loses one. Together, her 10 coins aren’t enough to pay for anything, but she still searches adamantly for that one lost coin. And when she does find it, she gathers her community together to celebrate what she has found.

Within these two parables Jesus says that ‘this’ is where heaven, the angels, and God find great joy. Essentially, these stories that Jesus tells us convey just what God is like.

To be frank and curt – God’s kind of dumb, right?

No one, NO ONE, does what Jesus says this shepherd did. You have 100 sheep, you’re out in the wilderness, and one wanders off. Well, I have 99 sheep now. Time to get the rest home before another one goes missing. And if you do go in search of that one lost sheep, you certainly don’t leave the other 99 out in the wilderness. You take precaution and make sure the vast majority are protected first.

Or, I know I had ten pennies around here, but I only can find nine right now. Oh, well it’s just a penny. It’s not worth the time and effort to go find it.

Folks, I’ve lost countless discs playing disc golf in my life. Way more than I care to admit and they are worth a little more than a few coins. But, I’ve got a rule – if I can’t find it in ten minutes, well at least I still got a bag full of other ones. I can always replace that lost one.

That is what amazes and humbles me most about these two stories. Jesus tells us what kind of God our God actually is.

God goes to lengths that none of us would go in our search for the lost.

When we lose something we ‘own’ it hurts and stinks, but we move on. We calculate what it would take in time and effort to find it against the ‘value’ of that item. More times than not, the value just isn’t worth it. So, we just let it go and move on.

Yet, our God – the God who has saved us in faith. The God who has claimed us in love. The God who has washed and cleansed us in baptism. The God who has given us new life in Jesus’ victory over sin and death. The God who guides us with the breath and wind of the Holy Spirit. That God – our God – relentlessly and feverishly searches us out as if we were the most prized and worthy jewel. Searches us out as if we were the only one that God cared for. God searches us out and brings us home.

Think about that for moment. Let it sink in.

You are valued so much by God – you are so worthy to God – that God drops everything to search, to find, and to bring you home.

Wow. God goes to more length than anyone ever would think to. God does that? Yep, that’s what God does.

So, if I think a little bit more on my new potential title for this group of parables, it would probably be – The Parable about our God who searches.

Because God does search, God searches us out tirelessly and relentlessly.

God searches us out when we are the ones who wander off.

We get caught up in a life counter to what we hear proclaimed by our Lord. We get caught up in a world of sin, drugs, and addiction. We get caught up in those things that turn us away from God. We get caught up in a life of apathy and indifference – towards the church, towards others, or towards life.

We get caught up in a life where we wander from idol to idol. Distracted by every shiny object and trinket the world produces to ‘make’ us better in the eyes of others.

We wander. We go off.

God searches, props us up on the shoulders of our Lord, and brings us home in celebration and joy.

God does that. God does that through the people that have been placed in our lives. The ones we know so well, and even the ones we meet in a glimpse of a moment. God continues to search for us even when we’ve given up on searching for God. Nothing – not one thing – is outside God’s realm, ability, and desire to search for you.

To tell you, to make known to you, how loved, worthy, and valued you are.

God does that. God is doing that.

Then there is the greater context of what happens in that second parable with the woman and the lost coin. If the woman is an allegory for God – does that mean God sometimes – sometimes – loses us? Perhaps – I don’t know. I’m still figuring that out as well.

But, that’s not the point of the parable. The point of what Jesus is telling the crowd and telling us is that God continues to search for us – relentlessly – even when others wouldn’t see the value in the time and effort. The woman loses a coin that could be considered by others to be ‘literally worthless.’ She tears up her house to find that one coin. Why? Because it is hers.

God searches tirelessly to find us. To celebrate us with the gathered community in heaven. Jesus is telling us that God literally thinks we are worth it.

The world might tell you that you aren’t. Maybe because of the job you have. You might not earn enough to be noticed. You come from ‘that’ part of town. You don’t have the looks, the personality, the clothes, the ‘whatever’ for others to think you’re worth anything.

Yet to God – you are.

You – we – are so worthy that God has come to us in Christ our Lord. God has come to be with us and has called us to live into that worth, to know that others too are worthy as well.

Worthy to be sought after, to be celebrated, to be loved fully and completely.

We are so worthy that God bathes us in the waters of baptism and feeds us at the table. We are washed, welcomed, fed, and sent to proclaim that to the world.

In the knowledge and faith of our worth before God – something that we don’t deserve, but that God grants to us – we remember that others are valued and worthy to God as well. We get to live a life knowing that we are worthy, that God searches, calls, and finds us. We get to live a life knowing that those around us are worthy as well.

We know that we are loved and cared for so that we don’t have to seek veiled comfort in those things that pull us away. We don’t have to find empty solace in what the world says will make us ‘better’ in the eyes and minds of those around us. We proclaim and worship a God who already has found value in us, and now we get to live a life living out that thankfulness for God and for others.

We proclaim this God who searches. Who searches – even and especially – because others have given up and think it’s silly and foolish.

God does that? That’s what God does. Amen.

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September 5, 2016, 8:00 AM

the one where we know what to do...


Sermon from September 4, 2016

Scripture Text: Philemon and Luke 14: 25-35

Grace and peace to you from God our Creator and our Lord and Savior Jesus who is the Christ – will y’all pray with me? May the words of my mouth and the meditations of all our hearts be acceptable in your sight O Lord, our rock, and our redeemer.

So, as I looked at all these scripture texts this week, I was completely drawn to Paul’s letter to Philemon. First, apart from four verses, we read the entire ‘book’ of Philemon this morning. The final few verses we didn’t read center mostly on salutations and such to individual people (they don’t add too much to what Paul is trying to write). But, I was also drawn to this short ‘book’ because in many ways Paul isn’t just writing to Philemon. In many ways, it feels like Paul is writing to us – to me – to you.

How many of us have been ‘put’ in our place before? Specifically, in the way where we knew what to do, we didn’t want to do it, but we also knew we had the power to enact the thing that we didn’t want. Kind of a tongue twister right?

Paul sends his new friend and fellow brother in Christ – Onesimus – back to his ‘master’ Philemon. With him, he writes a letter to Philemon and lays it on THICK about what Phil should do. He sent Onesimus to Paul as a ‘slave.’ Paul is appealing to him in love – to welcome him back as a brother. Shed the titles, the pomp, the societal roles – welcome Onesimus as an equal.

Throughout this letter, Paul is saying, “I know you probably don’t want to do this. It’ll make you look weak and soft. I know those in high standing around you won’t understand – they may even mock you or treat you unfairly. I know you’ll ‘lose’ something out of this request and appeal. I know this. You know this. But, you know what should be done, right? Don’t you…”

Paul appeals out of love to Philemon to welcome Onesimus as an equal. Something unheard of during his time and dare I say during the vast majority of our history. Granting freedom to one who is your ‘slave’ was dangerous. Perhaps they wouldn’t stay. Maybe they’d tell others, and then more would be asking for their freedom. The less ‘help’ you have, the more ‘work’ you are responsible for on your own. If he stays and continues to work, now you’ll have to compensate him for what he does give to you.

There are a whole host of reasons that it makes sense for a ‘slave owner’ not to grant freedom.

In spite of that – you know what you should do right?

There are a whole host of reasons that financially, within our families, and within social circles, it would be wrong to grant someone ‘life’ that otherwise wouldn’t have it. To welcome someone into our lives as an equal – as a family.

In spite of that – you know what you should do right?

There are a whole host of reasons why we shouldn’t stand up – or in some cases sit down – to bring attention to important issues within our world and lives. What will people say? What will you lose? What good will it do?

In spite of that – you know what you should do right?

There are so many reasons why we shouldn’t do something that goes against what the world thinks, proclaims, and has set up.

But, I feel like I’m invoking Paul when I say, “But, you know what the right thing to do is – right?”

I wonder at times what we know we are getting ourselves into when we profess our faith in Christ. Sure, we are gifted with this wonderful blessing of new life, the knowledge, and faith that we are loved, honored, cherished, and accepted. That all of what we have done, are doing, and will do will be forgiven. We are incredibly blessed by God and as Lutherans, we understand that blessing as a free gift given to us in our faith in Christ our Lord.

We’re unworthy to receive it, we haven’t merited it in any way. We are given this gift.

Out of thankfulness, we get to live a life for others and not ourselves. For God and not ourselves. Looking out instead of looking inwards.

But, that’s where we tap the brakes a bit. When we begin to understand exactly what we are giving up.

We read Paul’s words, which is another way of stating what we read from Jesus this morning.

Living into this life of faith – this free gift that God has given us – is not easy. It means denying that which comes easily to us. It means going against the grain of the world.

A world that says – profits over all. No matter what.

A world that says – the football season is starting – nothing is more important.

A world that says – sure you can speak your truth, stand for your cause – but, only do it in a way that the majority thinks is appropriate.

A world that says – convenience rules over everything. Everything must bend to your schedule, your demands, your life.

A world that says – if you’re not from here, you don’t belong to us, you don’t belong here, and one way or another – you’re going to leave.

Jesus is calling us to deny that way of life. That way of life that seems so tantalizing and good. That life that is safe and comfortable. That life that feeds our ego and strokes our pride.

Jesus calls us to take up the cross and follow him.

In many ways, we hear this and think of the ‘cost’ of discipleship. In fact, one of the great Lutheran theologians – Dietrich Bonhoeffer – wrote a book with exactly that title. And it is a GREAT read. I highly recommend it. A book that centers on discipleship and what it actually means for us who profess faith in Christ our Lord.

But, whenever we think of the ‘cost’ of something, we think of the bad stuff. What we have to let go of in order to ‘do this.’ What we ‘sacrifice’ in order to achieve something.

The cost of taking up the cross is that you ‘don’t get’ to do some of this other stuff that you like.

Some have made that point to be dancing, associating with certain people, enjoying things, being accepting of who we are.

I don’t dance well, and I don’t often dance (believe me, Erin’s tried), but it doesn’t mean I don’t think dancing can’t be fun. Sometimes – lots of times – dancing is good.

But, what if we look at this as – both in what Jesus says and in what Paul is asking – not so much as the cost of discipleship, but the choice of discipleship. The choice of carrying the cross.

Choosing life instead of death.

Knowing that that choice is probably more for others than it is for you.

What if we looked at this in such a way where we say, “I’m choosing discipleship.” The ‘burden’ of carrying that cross just might mean life for someone else.

Choosing to follow into the life of faith in which we are called just might mean others are cared for and loved – loved by and through you and others. It just might mean you are cared for and loved by and through others. In choosing to follow Christ, by carrying that cross, acknowledging the sacrifice from the world it requires – we choose life and not death.

We choose invitation and not deportation.

We choose to listen instead of shouting over.

We choose to go against the grain and welcome the one who others say is ‘beneath’ me as an equal.

We choose the formation of our faith life, the deepening of what God has called us into by and through the Holy Spirit over the loud beckoning call of the football game.

We choose to be here, to be with one another, knowing that it could’ve meant a few extra hours of sleep, perhaps an earlier start to preparing for something else.

We choose to proclaim to those around us – you are loved. I love you. God loves you. No matter who they are, no matter what others say.

We choose to proclaim this with the help of others. We choose community – a community that is diverse and invites all to be a part of it.

We hear this message; we see what it means to carry the cross, and when the rubber meets the road, we hear Paul in the back of our mind.

“I know you might not want to do this because it won’t be easy, but you know what you’re called to do, right?”

Amen.

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September 1, 2016, 8:00 AM

September 2016 Newsletter


Grace and peace to y’all during this month of September!

I just wanted y’all to know something this month. I love y’all. I really do.

Sometimes I don’t think we hear that enough. At least not from one another, and when we do hear it – especially from places we don’t expect – we kind of shake it off and say, “That was weird…”

We probably don’t say it enough either. Blame it on the English language and its vague and multi-faceted definition and interpretation of that little four letter word.

But, I love y’all. I love the ministry we get to do here in Newberry in service for those in need and in celebration and thankfulness of what God has done and continues to do in our lives. I love all of it.

September begins that time that the ‘program’ year in the life of the church starts to ramp up. There are more opportunities to participate in ministry through our faith formation ministries, our community compassion ministries, our congregational care ministries and more.

God is at work here and we can and we get to be a part of it all.

As we approach those ministries, remember that you are loved. Loved by one another and loved by our God.

As we move through this life of faith, let’s try to tell one another – the ones we know really well and the people who we don’t at all –, “I love you.”

Spread God’s love for the world and all of creation through your words, your actions, your thoughts, your life of faith.

Imagine what that world would look like?

Bless y’all!

Love you. Mean it.

Amen!


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