This is God's-Season

This is the manuscript from the sermon preached on Sunday, 18 August 2013, the 13th Sunday after Pentecost.  

“I came to bring fire to the earth, and how I wish it were already kindled! I have a baptism with which to be baptized, and what stress I am under until it is completed! Do you think that I have come to bring peace to the earth? No, I tell you, but rather division! From now on five in one household will be divided, three against two and two against three; they will be divided: father against son and son against father, mother against daughter and daughter against mother, mother-in-law against her daughter-in-law and daughter-in-law against mother-in-law.”

Jesus also said to the crowds, “When you see a cloud rising in the west, you immediately say, ‘It is going to rain’; and so it happens. And when you see the south wind blowing, you say, ‘There will be scorching heat’; and it happens. You hypocrites! You know how to interpret the appearance of earth and sky, but why do you not know how to interpret the present time?"

I remember quite clearly sitting in my preaching class in seminary, learning the rules of preaching, the ins and outs of what it is to preach.  We were asked one question over and over again.  We were taught how to ask ourselves this question week in and week out.  I can still hear Dr. Mark Bangert, with his dry sense of humor, face marked by a rather serious grin, asking the class; “What’s the good news?”  What’s the good news?

So let’s try this exercise this morning, shall we?  Hear again some of the words of Jesus as we have them recorded in Luke: “I came to bring fire to the earth, and how I wish it were already kindled.  I have a baptism with which to be baptized, and what stress I am under until it is completed.  Do you think that I have come to bring peace to the earth?  No, I tell you, but rather division!”  What’s the good news?

I read these words.  You read these words.  We just read them again, together.  It would be hard to believe that they came from Jesus if Luke had not written them down for us.  But here they are and we cannot ignore them this morning.  “I came to bring fire to the earth.  Do you think that I came to bring peace to the earth?  No, I tell you, but rather division!”  What’s the good news?  

I do not think that we particularly like this image of Jesus, the fiery prophet who challenges all of our thoughts and images and pictures of a gentle Jesus.  Of a meek and mild Jesus.  Think about the stained glass windows that we have here at Bethany.  I know some of you cannot see them at the moment, but up here over the alter we have two pictures of a rather peaceful and mild Jesus.  In one he stands at the door, politely knocking, as if we had invited him over for a cup of afternoon coffee and a slice of peach pie.  In the other he is cradling a lamb.  Quite serene.  I think that if we were to look at pictures of Jesus from our own context, go back into our memory banks, I would hazard a guess that most, if not all, of the images we have of Jesus are mild in nature.  Perhaps the most violent images we have of Jesus are of him calming the storm on the sea; an angry Jesus (but not too violent) rebuking the winds and waves.  Or maybe it’s a picture of Jesus on the cross, though PG enough for us to let it into our church building.  We do not like to think of Jesus as anything but the gentle shepherd, cradling a lamb on his shoulders.  Or teaching with a small child on his lap.  But these are not the only images of Jesus we have.   

The liturgical theologian John Bell of the Iona community calls the image of Jesus we encounter this morning the “unsung, unpreached Jesus.”  Bell is a hymn writer, he’s lectured all over the world, teaching people about the rich heritage of Christian music and liturgy.  He has listened to countless stories of how people understand and imagine Jesus.  He has come to learn that we are missing part of the picture.  One of my favorite stories that he tells is of how our hymns can paint for us a false sense of the gentleness of the Jesus story.  He tells the tale of the hymn “O Little Town of Bethlehem,” about how the words do not give us the whole story.  “O little town of Bethlehem, how still we see thee lie.  Above thy deep and dreamless sleep, the silent stars go by.”  He says that we have gotten it wrong.  That we have punctuated the first line incorrectly.  This is Bell’s take at the punctuation; “O little town of Bethlehem.  How still we see thee?  Lie!”  He’s says there’s no way Bethlehem was quiet and peaceful on the night of Jesus’ birth.  The town was full of Jewish folk, forced from their homes to take part in an imperial census that would probably raise taxes and increase the government presence.  These people are upset.  And they are seeing long lost family for the first time in years.  It’s a late night.  The bars are packed.  And people are having no trouble sharing their complaints and family stories.  It’s a noisy, unrestful scene.  Very different than the song we sing.  Our culture gives us a very clear picture of a gentle, mild Jesus.  But this morning we encounter another side of Jesus, what Paul Harvey might call “the rest of the story.”

This morning Luke shows us how fiery Jesus can be.  Jesus is dead serious about his mission and ministry (no pun intended).  He knows that the kingdom he has come to preach and live out will bring conflict into the world.  And he is not going to pull his punches.  This morning we have a glimpse of a passion-filled Jesus being very honest about where following him might take us.  And it makes us uneasy.  We do not particularly like this Jesus.  So what’s the good news?  

Perhaps we are coming at this story from the wrong angle.  As I was sitting at the deanery meeting in Marble Falls this week, as we were struggling with this particular story, this particular image of Jesus, and as we were asking ourselves “what’s the good news?” it hit me; perhaps this is not good news for privileged folk.  Perhaps this is not good news for those in power.  Perhaps this is not good news for people like me; I have a good job, a loving wife, a steady paycheck.  I seemingly have it made.  I am in control.  And this message of fire and division from Jesus is not good news for my privileged way of life.  I like the way things are, but this is not good news for me.  But it’s still Jesus talking and teaching.  So perhaps I should listen.  

As I go back and dig into this story, I am struck the word peace; εἰρήνη (i-ray'-nay).  I have my own thoughts and understandings of peace, but they generally mean that I am happy and in control.  A lack of arguing, a life devoid of tension, no conflict to speak of...but you and I know that this is a false sense of reality.  This is not the real world.  And Jesus knows this too.  Jesus, living under the threat of the Roman empire, in the shadow of the “pax romana,” the so called “peace of Rome,” knows that the concept of peace is complex.  The “pax romana,” the “peace of Rome,” was only a peace for those in power.  It was not a peace for people like Jesus, the peasants, the poor, the lame, the powerless.  The “pax romana,” the “peace of rome,” was enforced with an iron fist and anyone who upset the balance of power was hung spread eagle on a cross.  This is the baptism that Jesus is taking about.  Jesus knows that this is where his life and ministry will lead him.  So what’s the good news?

The good news is that the peace the Jesus brings, the peace of God’s kingdom, is not of this world and is not subject to the rules we place on peace.  The peace of God comes to all people, to the rich and powerful, and the lowly and outcast alike.  Again, these are not our rules, they are God’s rules.  As Eugene Peterson, who offers us “The Message” rendering of the Bible, translates verse 56 of our reading today, “this is God’s-season.”  The words from Jesus today are good news to the lowly and the outcast, the poor and the oppressed.  This is good news for those on the margins because what Jesus is saying is that things are not going to remain the same.  The status quo will not continue.  The peace of the status quo, the peace of empire, the “pax romana” or the “pax americana” will not have the last word.  What Jesus is saying is that this is God’s-season and that we live in God’s kingdom.  The ultimate word of peace belongs to God.  

This word of peace can be found at the beginning of Luke’s Gospel.  We hear this word of peace in the Magnificat, the great song from Mary at the beginnings of Luke’s story, the words we normally only hear in the Christmas season.  They have a powerful message for us today; “God has brought the powerful down from their thrones, and lifted up the lowly; God has filled the hungry with good things.”  We hear this word of peace again in the words to the shepherds, the outcasts in the hills, the first ones to receive the good news; “Do not be afraid; for see - I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people.”  The angel tells the shepherds that the one who will bring God’s peace is coming.  God’s kingdom, God’s peace, God’s-season is breaking into the world.  It is our gift to receive.   

Friends in Christ, the good news is that the peace that only God can bring is already here.  Jesus is here among us now, when we share his story, when we take the bread and wine, when we remember our baptism, when we are reminded that we are God’s children.  A kingdom people. We are in God’s-season.  

While this may not look like good news on the surface, deep within the words of Jesus is the promise of God’s peace.  A peace that lifts us out of the bonds of death into a life raised anew through the love of God.  A peace that rattles the cages of our complacency.  A peace that convicts us of our privilege and reminds us that we are more than bystanders in God’s kingdom and in this world.  We are reclaimed and remade in the image of God’s peace.  We are empowered to share this peace with our neighbors and with the strangers we encounter in the journey of faith.  

Friends in Christ, this is God’s-season.  We have been given God’s peace.  And it’s good news for all people.  

We Are A Kingdom People

This is the sermon manuscript from the sermon preached on August 11, 2013, the 12th Sunday after Pentecost.  The accompanying Gospel text is Luke 12:32-40.


Luke 12:32-40 

“Do not be afraid, little flock, for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom. Sell your possessions, and give alms. Make purses for yourselves that do not wear out, an unfailing treasure in heaven, where no thief comes near and no moth destroys. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.”

 “Be dressed for action and have your lamps lit; be like those who are waiting for their master to return from the wedding banquet, so that they may open the door for him as soon as he comes and knocks. Blessed are those slaves whom the master finds alert when he comes; truly I tell you, he will fasten his belt and have them sit down to eat, and he will come and serve them. If he comes during the middle of the night, or near dawn, and finds them so, blessed are those slaves."
 "But know this: if the owner of the house had known at what hour the thief was coming, he would not have let his house be broken into. You also must be ready, for the Son of Man is coming at an unexpected hour.”


One of the things I get asked over and over again as I continue to meet people here in Fredericksburg is “who are you related to?”  Especially when folks learn my last name.  “Are you related to any of the Meier's around here?” It’s clear that there are an abundance of Meier’s in this place.  I am not sure at this point if we are related.  Perhaps one day we’ll find out.  I sure hope so.  I don’t mind the question, it helps me to learn about you and you about me.  I think that it’s a connectedness that we are seeking  as we get to know one another.  I think what we are really asking one another is “who are you?”  It’s a question of identity.  
Well what I do know for sure, and what I can tell you with clarity, is that I was born and raised in Brenham, Texas.  My ancestors were farmers.  They started to come over to Texas from Germany in 1848.  We have had the same piece of land in Fayette County in my family since the 1880s.  We farm it to this day.  My grandfather’s a farmer.  My dad’s a farmer.  I have deep roots in that soil.  It is truly my link to the world.  My identity is intimately connected to that rich, Texas dirt.  I know who I am because of that farm.  It will continue to shape my life.  
I am sure that if we were to go around this place, take the time to listen to just brief pieces of each other’s stories, we could catch a glimpse of what’s important to each of us, and in a way, begin to uncover our identities.  Our family histories, our education, our preferences when we come to church, all of these factors go into forming our identities.  Our journey of faith is written into the DNA of our identity, it’s written into our very bones.  That’s why we come every week, sometimes multiple times a week.  To hear the stories of faith.  To be reminded of who we are as God’s people.    
This morning we encounter Jesus teaching his disciples, who are also having their identities shaped through heeding the call and following Jesus.  They have seen miracles on their journey with Jesus.  They have been witness to healing, feedings, and resurrecting as Jesus lives out his mission to bring the good news to the poor, bring releases to the captives, and to let the oppressed go free.  All of these events have gone into shaping the disciples identity as followers of Jesus.  Their lives have been utterly changed by their journey with Jesus.  They no longer encounter the world as they once did on the fishing dock or behind tax collecting table.  They interact with the world through the identity of a disciple and this identity is continually being shaped.  Jesus is trying to teach them how God encounters the world.  
Again on the road today, we get another glimpse of how Jesus continues to shape their identity.  This is not the first time the disciples have heard about the kingdom of God.  This is not the first time they have heard Jesus speak about possessions and giving to those in need, but sometimes it takes more than once for a lesson to sink in.  These are important lessons that need to be repeated.  “Do not be afraid, little flock, for it is God’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom.  Sell your possessions and give alms.  Make purses for yourselves that do not wear out...For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.”  Wrapped up in these lines is a humbling statement about who the disciples are, and thus who we are, as followers of Jesus.  
The word at the heart of this statement from Jesus is the word possessions.  We cannot look past it, we cannot ignore it, we cannot dismiss it.  Instead we must take it head-on, because that is what Jesus would do.  It takes the center stage in this exchange, perhaps not because of what Jesus said, but because I think we make it so.  We can’t let go of this word because it strikes close to our hearts.  We do love our possessions, and they are intimately connected to our identity.  We are what we posses if you will.  That’s what our culture tells us.  We work hard to collect and keep our possessions.  We do not like their status in our lives to be threatened.  So let’s dig into this word for a second to unwrap its meaning and what it might hold for our identity as disciples of Jesus. 
For a long time I understood this word to mean pretty plainly “what we own.”  To state it simply our possessions are what we possess.  As I dug deeper into this word over the course of the past week I could not ignore the Greek word used by Luke that we translate as possessions.  The word in Greek, ὑπάρχοντα (hoop-ar-khonta), appears to be a compound word made up of two words meaning “under” and “rule.”  The word  άρχω (ar’-kho) is a word that alludes to power in New Testament Greek.  It points us to a ruler, to one who dominates over another.  In a literal sense, the word that Luke uses for possessions can be understood as “under the power of.”  Our possessions are what hold power over us.  Or to put it another way, we are under the power of what we possess.  This is quite opposite of the idea that we hold power over our possessions.    
It’s alarming to think that what we possess has power over us, but I think that this is true more often than not.  We are defined by our possessions.  We define ourselves by the cars we drive, the phones we use, the cloths we wear.  Our identity gets corrupted and wrapped up into this false sense of self.  This understanding of identity puts a new spin on these words from Jesus.  You see, I think Jesus knows that our stuff can be a weakness to following in his footsteps.  That our possessions can get caught up in our identity and lead us down unhealthy paths.  But Jesus also knows our true selves.  He knows who God created us to be.  
Jesus knows that we have been set free by God and that God has given us the kingdom.  We are born and baptized into a love that lifts us up and out of our selfish habits.  A love that sets us free from the power of our possessions.  A love that points us to our true identity as children of God, as members of God’s kingdom.  We are a kingdom people.    
At the heart of it, the call to sell our possessions and give alms is not about the poor and the needy, it’s about us who do the giving.  The call to sell our possessions is a reminder that we are not a possessions people in the eyes of God.  Our possessions do not define our status with the creator of existence.  God knows we are more than that.  God knows that we are a kingdom people, and that’s what God has given us, the kingdom.  The call from Jesus is to release our possessions and to give mercy to those in need and in doing so we are set free to fully live into God’s kingdom.  Again, these acts says more about the us than they do about those in need.  They remind us that our true identity is that we are a people of God’s kingdom.  We are not defined by what we possess, but by God, who loves us and sets us free to love others.     
The radical message from Jesus is to let loose of these things that hold us back.  To release ourselves from their power.  We gain back our lives by releasing ourselves from our stuff.  We who have been so blessed can become true blessings to others.  The possibilities for this life are endless.  
I have seen the kingdom at work here in the last week.  Even in the quiet of summer time, we are being reminded that we are a kingdom people.  The confirmation kids just got back from camp reminded that they are children of God.  They released a week of summer vacation to be reminded of who they are in God’s eyes.  There are folks here at the church almost daily, releasing their possession of time into the creative hands of God as they prepare this place for Sunday School and for our investment in our kids and our future.  The kingdom breaks into our world on a daily basis when we remember our identity as children of God and as a kingdom people.     
No longer under the power of our possessions, we are free to live for others.  We are free to live into the gracious gift of God’s kingdom that is already but not yet.  The kingdom that is already here and among us, but not yet fully realized.  We are a kingdom people.  That is our true identity.  God has blessed us so that we may be a blessing to those we encounter on our journey through this world.  May God continue to bless you this week and always, as you strive to live into the kingdom that God has given to all people.