Sunday, September 29, 2013

The Kingdom of God and Permeable Spaces

There is a new addition to the blog this week.  We have worked out the ability to record sermons during our contemporary praise and worship service at Bethany, so this week there is audio to go along with the manuscript.  I have intentionally not altered the manuscript beyond my final edits.  I have not adjusted it to match the text so there will be some differences between the two.

Peace,
Travis

The sermon this week is based on Luke 16:19-31.

“There was a rich man who was clothed in purple and fine linen and who feasted sumptuously every day. And at his gate was laid a poor man named Lazarus, covered with sores, who desired to be fed with what fell from the rich man’s table. Moreover, even the dogs came and licked his sores.  The poor man died and was carried by the angels to Abraham’s side.  The rich man also died and was buried, and in Hades, being in torment, he lifted up his eyes and saw Abraham far off and Lazarus at his side.  And he called out, ‘Father Abraham, have mercy on me, and send Lazarus to dip the end of his finger in water and cool my tongue, for I am in anguish in this flame.’  But Abraham said, ‘Child, remember that you in your lifetime received your good things, and Lazarus in like manner bad things; but now he is comforted here, and you are in anguish.  And besides all this, between us and you a great chasm has been fixed, in order that those who would pass from here to you may not be able, and none may cross from there to us.’  And he said, ‘Then I beg you, father, to send him to my father’s house— for I have five brothers—so that he may warn them, lest they also come into this place of torment.’  But Abraham said, ‘They have Moses and the Prophets; let them hear them.’  And he said, ‘No, father Abraham, but if someone goes to them from the dead, they will repent.’  He said to him, ‘If they do not hear Moses and the Prophets, neither will they be convinced if someone should rise from the dead.’”


 

  One of the most difficult aspects of life that I experienced during my time in Chicago was the poverty.  I did not see a great deal of poverty growing up in Brenham.  I know that it is there, just as there is poverty here in Fredericksburg, but I did not come across it much as a child.  While I was not shocked at what I encountered, the amount of poverty I witnessed in Chicago was staggering.  And the worst part was the panhandlers. 
    Now I know there is real need, but I learned very quickly that not all who beg for change are actually in need.  I was told by my ethics professor during new student orientation not to give money to anyone in the neighborhood because, as he put it, “some of them have worked here longer than I have.”  Some of those begging had houses in the suburbs and acted the part of a beggar, making tens of thousands of dollars in a year based on the good will of others.  Needless to say, I was jaded to the act of handing out money.  But I still saw the poverty.  In doorways, outside of restaurants, in the alleyways, I saw the hungry faces of the poor and needy.  And it broke my heart.  I was safe from it in my apartment and at school, but in the permeable spaces of life, in the space between comforts, I saw the need.  And I struggled with it.  I wonder if that’s how we are to understand the rich man in this parable.  I wonder if he struggled with the need of Lazarus.     
    On the surface, this parable starts out in a rather simple manner.  A rich man dresses well and dines lavishly every evening in what we can assume is a large, well-decorated house.  A poor man named Lazarus lays at his gate hungry and desiring the scrapes that fall from the table.  This is an accurate picture from the time of Jesus, and if we are honest, in our own times as well.  The rich are well dressed and fed, the poor lie in squalor.  We get no other details from Jesus.  No list of merits.  No reasons for the status of either man.  Just a picture of wealth and poverty. 
    Then then Jesus moves away from the expected.  The poor man, Lazarus, dies and is taken by the angels to the bosom of Abraham and the rich man, still un-named dies and is buried and wakes up in Hades, the Greek concept of the afterlife.  This reverses what the crowd would have expected and I think it catches us off guard as well.  The rich man would have been seen as someone blessed by God, to find him separated from God is shocking.  Lazarus, ridiculously poor, is assumed to have gotten what he deserved from some sin he committed on earth.  But the roles are reversed by Jesus.  And the parable moves on into a chat between the rich man and Abraham.  But let’s remain here for a moment.  
    While it seems like a minor detail, it is important to notice how and where Lazarus enters the story.  He is literally tossed by the gate of the rich man.  Our reading this morning said that he was “laid” the rich man’s gate, but the Greek rendering is not so passive.  The word used by Luke paints a picture of Lazarus being tossed at the gate of the rich man, left for dead by someone who didn’t know what to do with him.  Lazarus is literally tossed out, a throw away, potentially to be collected with the Monday morning trash.  He is a nobody.  And there he lays at the gate. 
    Now the gate may seem like a minor detail, a descriptive clue to set the scene, but we should not move too quickly and dismiss the place as not important.  The gate tells us a great deal about the story.  We can imagine that the rich man lives in a lavish compound.  A Mediterranean villa complete with high walls, palms trees, and a swimming pool.  It is a house built to display wealth and I am sure it has a fence to keep all of the undesirables out.  So the gate is an access point.  A place of entrance for the rich man and his guests.  A hole in the wall.  A permeable space.  And its where we find Lazarus.  Lazarus is tossed into the in-between space, a potential place of contact between him and the rich man.  The gate is important for us to notice because it is how God encounters us in the journey of faith and it is where we encounter others (neighbor and stranger) in this world. 
    Our God has always encountered the world through permeable space.  That’s why the call to hear Moses and the prophets is so important in the final verses of the parable.   The witness of Moses and the prophets points us to the truth that God encounters the world through permeable space.  If we dig back into Moses and the prophets we are immersed in God’s mercy to those in need.  God calls the people to acts of justice and mercy in the permeable spaces in our world.  God calls to the people through Moses to leave the edges of the field unharvested, to leave some grain on the stalks and grapes on the vine for the poor and immigrant passing through the land.  It is on the edges of the fields, in the permeable space, that nourishment is provided for those in need. 
    God calls the people to look out for the orphan and the widow, those who were pushed to the margins over and over again because they were left out of the social hierarchy.  The orphans and widows existed in permeable space, not sure who would take care of them, so the people are called to rally together to their aid.
    God calls through the prophets for the people to be lovers of justice.  The prophet Amos reminds the people that the gates of the city were to be places of justice.  “Hate evil and love good, and establish justice at the gate,” cries Amos.  The permeable space of the city is where justice is done because that’s where people encounter one another.  The permeable spaces are where life happens, where forgiveness is acted out, and where love is embodied in the encounter with the neighbor and stranger. 
    And then there’s Jesus himself. Jesus, God incarnate in the world, comes to us in the permeable space of life.  Jesus teaches us how to live in the here and now, in permeable space, the space between the world as it is in it’s fallen state, and the kingdom God that is coming into the world.  Jesus’ ministry takes place in everyday life, Jesus reaches out to those in need, lifting them out of brokenness and restoring them to life.  And it is this life that leads to the cross.  Even here in chapter 16, Jesus‘ face is set towards Jerusalem and perhaps he knows the cross is coming. 
    It is on the cross, the ultimate permeable space between life and death, that God’s love is poured out for the world.  God transcends the space between the world as it is and the kingdom that is to come, and in the process, gives new life to all people through the resurrection of Jesus Christ.  God encounters us in permeable space and gives us new life.  And Jesus calls us to follow this example.
    So today let’s think about our permeable spaces. The front door, the parking lot, main street, the high school hallway. The very streets of our neighborhood.  We are set free to live into these spaces.  But it’s not always easy. Sometimes we judge and put up boundaries.  We set rules in place to keep others away.  For me it was trying to control the permeable spaces in Chicago – I tried to set limits on the kingdom of God.  I keep what I thought was mine with tight fists.  I was unwilling to share.  And the more I think about it, the more I come to realize that it was not even about my stuff, but about how I would rarely acknowledged the other as a child of God.   I would not try to learn their name or build a relationship.  And that’s where the rubber hits the road, in building relationships. 
    When we recognize the child of God in the neighbor and in the stranger, we learn how to use our blessings to meet their needs.  Encountering the neighbor and the stranger in the permeable spaces of our lives is about building relationships and sharing the wealth that God has blessed us with, be it money, or possessions, or time.  When we remember that we are blessed, we realize that we are called to be a blessing to others. 
    Friends in Christ, every day is an opportunity to live into the new life we have in Christ.  Over and over again we travel through permeable spaces on a journey of faith.  And it’s in these fluid spaces that we have a chance to live out the grace and mercy of God.  In living out God’s love and mercy we continue the story of Moses the prophets and Jesus. We establish relationships.  We extend grace.  We embody the kingdom of God in this world. 
    Friends, we are a blessed people and we are blessed in this place.  As you go back out into the permeable spaces of your lives this week, remember that your are a beloved child of God and that you are blessed.   And in being blessed, you have the opportunity to be a blessing to others. 

Sunday, September 15, 2013

Rejoicing with God

This is the sermon manuscript from September 15, 2013, the 17th Sunday after Pentecost.  The Gospel text is Luke 15:1-10.  This sermon also celebrates the life and witness of Johnny Cash.

Luke 15:1-10

Now the tax collectors and sinners were all drawing near to hear Jesus.  And the Pharisees and the scribes grumbled, saying, “This man receives sinners and eats with them.”

So he told them this parable:  “What man of you, having a hundred sheep, if he has lost one of them, does not leave the ninety-nine in the wilderness, and go after the one that is lost, until he finds it?  And when he has found it, he lays it on his shoulders, rejoicing.  And when he comes home, he calls together his friends and his neighbors, saying to them, ‘Rejoice with me, for I have found my sheep that was lost.’  Just so, I tell you, there will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who need no repentance.

“Or what woman, having ten silver coins, if she loses one coin, does not light a lamp and sweep the house and seek diligently until she finds it?  And when she has found it, she calls together her friends and neighbors, saying, ‘Rejoice with me, for I have found the coin that I had lost.’  Just so, I tell you, there is joy before the angels of God over one sinner who repents.”


    In case you missed it, Thursday was the tenth anniversary of the death of Johnny Cash. And while he may never be sainted by the church, we can at least celebrate a feast day for the man in black.  We can celebrate his life and his witness.  We can remember the message he shared through his music.
    Now, Johnny Cash was not perfect.  A look at his early life and career paints the picture of ragged sinner.  A broken marriage, the abuse of drugs and alcohol, time in prison all point to a broken man, lost in the wilderness of this world.  Cash was far from perfect, and so lifting him up in church can be tricky business.  But I think he is a great example of what Luther would name a “simul justus et peccator,” a person who is in the state of being simultaneously a saint and a sinner.  And that’s you and me friends, sinners and saints every one of us.   And when I think of the table that God sets before us, I have to think that Johnny Cash would be there.  And that in the midst of the meal he would get up from his seat, someone would hand him a guitar, and he would start picking music and telling stories, putting a smile on the face of Jesus.
    Later in his life Johnny started to recognize his unique place in the world.  He understood the place of power he occupied as a performer and he began to speak up for those who could not speak for themselves.  And so this morning I would like to listen with you as we experince Johnny Cash’s “Man in Black”


    The song “Man in Black” is a litany of the lost of this world, people Cash knew well.  The poor, the beaten down, the sick, the lonely, the prisoner, the reckless.  People he had met along the way.  People he knew were lost in this world. 
    This litany of folks could have been lifted out of Luke’s Gospel.  The folks Cash names in his song are the same folks we have encountered as the dinner guests of Jesus in our journey through the Gospel in the past few weeks; the poor, the cripple, the lame, the blind, the captive, and the oppressed.  They are the people that Jesus hangs out with.  They are the people Jesus invites to dinner.  And it’s scandalous.  Had there been a local paper in Jesus’ day I am sure it would be filled with letters to the editor from angry Pharisees and church leaders, publicly shaming Jesus for his table manners.  And I am sure Jesus would have kept on doing what he was doing, reaching out to those in need. 
    The story we have from Luke this morning follows a familiar pattern.  Again we find Jesus at the table.  Again we find the Pharisees and scribes grumbling at what Jesus is doing.  And again we find Jesus teaching and turning the world upside-down.  As much as the Pharisees seem not to get what Jesus is trying to say, Jesus does not loose his patience and continues to teach them.  Perhaps it will sink in eventually. 
    Today Jesus tells two parables that follow the same story line.  Both a shepherd and a woman realize that they have lost something and drop everything they are doing to go find it, whether it be a sheep or coin.  And this act does not make sense to us.  Why leave the 99 to find the one?  Why turn the house inside out to find one lost coin?  We live in a culture of acceptable loss.  Things going missing, that’s just the way it is.  We just have to look as far as our refrigerators. If you are anything like me you love taking leftovers home from a restaurant.  The joy of having another meal and not needing to cook is great.  But sometimes the leftovers get pushed to the back and forgotten, only to be tossed when they start to smell or turn colors.  On the surface they are just leftovers, extras.  But in reality, there may be $3 or $4 worth of food sacrificed to the almighty landfill.  There may be a plate of food that could have feed a hungry soul.  And as simple as this may seem, as innocent as this may seen, it is an acceptable loss.  And 9 times out of 10 we don’t even think about it.  But this is not how our God works.
    Jesus starts both of these parables with a clever word play.  Basically he is asking, “which of you would not do this,” assuming that leaving the 99 to find the one, or turning the house inside out to find one coin is an accepted practice.  That it is the norm.  But you and I know that it is not.  No one does this.  No one leaves the 99 for the sake of the 1.  No one takes all day cleaning the house to find the lost coin, regardless of its value.  Our culture does not teach us to put everything on hold to find what is lost.  No one.  Except God. 
    Perhaps that’s why the Pharisees are grumbling.  The Pharisees, the ultimate rule keepers and the ones who exhaust themselves to fit into the culture and the power structure of the world, do not fully understand a God who will give up everything to find the lost.  They do not understand the shepherd who is right in front of them who has been wandering in the wilderness of this world, finding those who are broken and alone and in need of being found.  Jesus, the love of God incarnate in the world, has been sent to find the lost, and to remind them that they are loved by God.  And upon finding the lost, God throws a party.  Our God does not understand acceptable loss.  Our God puts it all on the line for those who are lost.   
     I would imagine that some of you are probably feeling lost today...buried under the weight of working or financial troubles, dealing with health issues, perhaps straining to figure out schools schedules and finding time for family.  We put on good faces when we come to church, hoping that no one will catch a chink in the armor, hoping we come off put together, but feeling exhausted at the juggling act of smiling through the lostness.  We feel the eyes of the righteous burning upon us.  Or perhaps we are the righteous, drawing lines of who is in and who is out, grumbling about the folks who wander in, perhaps trying to find the love of God.   
    Today’s parables from Jesus are not about us versus them, the righteously found versus the sinfully lost.  Today’s word from Jesus is not about a divide that we must over come.  It’s about a radically foolish God who will wander into the wilderness and turn the house inside out to find what has been lost.  These parables are about a loving God who will run down the drive way trying to strap on a pair of sandals with a mile-wide smile to greet the one thought lost.  This is a love story about God who does not leave us to our own devices but wraps us in a love that is always with us, even in the lost moments.  This is a love that gathers up all of us saints and sinners in the world and loves us regardless of who we are.  This is a love worth rejoicing.  It is a love worth celebrating. 
    Friends, there is rejoicing in heaven.  And the punch line of these parables directed at grumbling Pharisees is “will you join in?!”  Will you join in the joy of a radical God who loves all peoples.  Will you join in the grace of a God who, upon finding someone who was lost, drops everything and throws a party to celebrate?  Will you loosen your grip on the rules of the world, stop complaining about sinners, and pull up a chair and join in the meal?  God is already at the table with sinners, saints, lost, found, broken, and righteous.  God is waiting for us to join in. 
    Today is a day to celebrate.  In fact, everyday is a day to celebrate with God.  While Johnny Cash’s song may sound melancholy and leave us with little hope and feeling like there is more to be done, there is hope in his words.  He knew, perhaps better than most, the life of the lost and the joy in being found.  The life of a sinner and saint.  He became a voice for those who could not speak for themselves and lifted up those whom we may ignore.  And  he wanted to rejoice in their being found.  “How I’d love to wear a rainbow everyday...”  He wanted to celebrate with them and with God. 
    Friends, this is our call, to rejoice with God.  To break some bread and raise a glass in celebration of God’s grace, a grace and love that knows no boundaries.  This community of faith is called and empowered to join in with heaven as God rejoices over those who are found.  So let us rejoice.  There is a party going on is heaven and it is our turn to join in.  Let us rejoice with a God whose love knows no boundaries.  Let us rejoice with a God who is seeking tirelessly for the lost in this world.  Let us rejoice with a God who loves us so deeply that there are parties thrown on heaven and on earth as the kingdom of God breaks into this world.    

Tuesday, September 3, 2013

Kingdom Hospitality

This is the sermon manuscript from the sermon preached on Sunday, September 1, 2013, the 15th Sunday after Pentecost.

Luke 14:1, 7-14
  One Sabbath, when he went to dine at the house of a ruler of the Pharisees, they were watching him carefully. 
  Now he told a parable to those who were invited, when he noticed how they chose the places of honor, saying to them,  “When you are invited by someone to a wedding feast, do not sit down in a place of honor, lest someone more distinguished than you be invited by him, and he who invited you both will come and say to you, ‘Give your place to this person,’ and then you will begin with shame to take the lowest place.  But when you are invited, go and sit in the lowest place, so that when your host comes he may say to you, ‘Friend, move up higher.’ Then you will be honored in the presence of all who sit at table with you.  For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, and he who humbles himself will be exalted.”
  He said also to the man who had invited him, “When you give a dinner or a banquet, do not invite your friends or your brothers or your relatives or rich neighbors, lest they also invite you in return and you be repaid.  But when you give a feast, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind, and you will be blessed, because they cannot repay you. For you will be repaid at the resurrection of the just.


Jesus gets invited to a dinner party.  On the surface this seems like an innocuous event.  But if we were to spend any amount of time with Luke’s Gospel beyond the sometimes jarring journey that the lectionary takes us on, we would discover that to encounter a story of Jesus at dinner would be a rather common occurrence.  In Luke’s Gospel, it seems that to follow Jesus is to follow the food.  Jesus seems to be at the table quite a bit in Luke’s story.  So on the surface the story we encounter today seems like a common event.  But this common event holds an uncommon calling for us who dare to look close. 
    Jesus, invited to this dinner party, by a Pharisees no less, seems to be out of place.  Last week we heard a story of Jesus correcting a leader of the synagogue, perhaps a Pharisees, over the law and what it means to heal on the Sabbath.  Two weeks ago we heard about how Jesus came into the world to bring “fire” and conflict.  Jesus does not seem to be smart choice for a dinner guest.  He does not seem to be one for polite chit-chat over a nice meal.  Earlier in Luke’s tale he is accused, and correctly, for dinning with “tax collectors and sinners.”  So it seems odd that a ruler of the Pharisees would have Jesus over as a dinner guest.  But we do not have to get too far into the story to understand why.  And there it is, right there in verse one, “they were watching him closely.”
    This is not surprising on multiple levels once we understand the flow of the Luke’s story and its context.  Jesus has not been quiet about his ministry and he has not been averse to butting heads with the Pharisees and other religious leaders over their lifestyle and understanding of the law.  So far in Luke’s story, Jesus has not received any death threats, but he is being watched very closely.  He has caught the eyes of those in power. He is upsetting the balance and must be monitored.  And that’s not an uncommon reality.  Those who upset the status quo are watched closely.  Martin Luther was watched closely by Rome and the German princes.  Martin Luther King Jr. had his phone tapped by the F.B.I..  So take heed, if your are going to speak out against those in power.  Be prepared to be watched.
    The historical context of this story is also important.  Luke’s world was different than ours on some level.  While on the surface this dinner party seems to be a rather unremarkable event to us (its just supper), meals were a complex web of social rules and realities in the ancient world.  Meals were an opportunity to demonstrate power and privilege.  The guest list and the seating chart were statements of who was in power.  The Roman world in which Jesus lived was dictated by patronage and reciprocity.  Everyone from the emperor in Rome to the lowest peasant in the farthest village of the empire were bound in the same system of gift and obligation.  If someone gave you a gift or invited you to a meal, you were bound by cultural ethics to return the favor.  Where you sat at the table had everything to do with your status and influence.  Meals in the ancient world were extremely political events.  So this simple dinner party came with large strings attached.  And it makes the story that Luke tells even more radical.  
    This morning we get two stories from Jesus, two bits of social advice that he offers to those gathered around the table.  The first one deals with how you pick your seat at a banquet.  It is on the surface a rather simple reminder; “don’t overstep your status.”  It seems to play right into the cultural context of his time.  If you over step your status, you will be shamed into taking a lower seat and your influence will take a hit.  Better to be safe than sorry.  Better to take a lower seat in hopes that you will be called forward, and thus honored, in front of the other guests.  It seems simple.  But remember, Jesus is in a room full of Pharisees, a group of whom he has been very critical in the past.  
    Just a few chapters ago Jesus very publicly decried the Pharisees, stating “Woe to you Pharisees! For you love the best seat in the synagogues and greetings in the marketplaces.”  This call to take a lower seat is about humility and not exploiting your power.  The Pharisees seemed to be notorious in Luke’s Gospel for overstepping their call, playing into the cultural script and forgetting whom they have been empowered to serve.  This call to humility is a critical reminder to those whom Jesus is reclining at the table with to not play into the social constructs of the day and to remember the humble role to which they are called.  Do not play to the honor rules of the culture for you are already honored by God as a member of God’s kingdom.   
    The second story turns the tables on another complex of power that Jesus knew very well.  This is known as the patronage system.  The patronage system of the ancient world was a gift-obligation construct that governed the lives of all in Jesus’ day and it was a corrupt display of power.  This was a system that benefited only those in power, yet was the norm for everyday life.   By the rules you only invited those who could return the favor.  To risk inviting someone who could not would be to invite a potential lose of status.  These are the rules of the world, but this is not how God’s kingdom operates.  God’s kingdom turns this way of life upside down. 
    In God’s kingdom, God is the ultimate benefactor(patron).  All gifts flow from God and are given freely to all people.  We are all connected through God’s gifts.  The ultimate gift is the new life we have in Jesus Christ.  We are joined into this kingdom through Christ’s death and given new life to fully participate.  The story from Luke this morning invites us to a radical reversal of the table hospitality we demonstrate in this world.  If God has invited all to the table, who are we to set limits of our own?  This story invites us to take risks in our lives as disciples.  The guest list includes those who cannot repay us.  This list invites us to dream of what the world could look like if we embodied God’s kingdom. 
    Our brother Martin Luther was a dreamer.  He saw a broken world and a broken church that had pushed the poor and marginalized away from the table.  Luther, inspired by what he found in scripture and by the radical love of God’s kingdom, used his life to re-imagine the world around him.  He was a risk-taker for the sake of the Gospel and for the sake of God’s love for the world.    
    Our brother Martin King was a dreamer.  This week we commemorated the 50th anniversary of the March on Washington and Dr. King’s famous “I Have A Dream Speech.”  King saw the broken world and imagined what it could look like if we embodied God’s kingdom.  We have inherited the torch of imagining what the world could look like if we embodied the radical hospitality of God.  
    If we clutch with tight fists to old rubrics of power and control we will never see the potential of God’s kingdom realized.  This radical display of kingdom hospitality was put on show for the world to see on the cross when God turned an instrument of state sanctioned death into a symbol of new life for all people.  The cross is the beginning of God’s kingdom realized in the world.  The cross symbolizes new life, given freely to all people.  This is the hospitality of God’s kingdom; new life given freely for all people.  A kingdom where the table is set for all people regardless of status or privilege.  A kingdom where we turn our buildings inside out on a weekly basis as we seek to embody the cruciform life of Christ in our lives.  A kingdom where walls that divide are turned into life giving tables where cultures intersect to share a meal.
    I have heard stories of communities of faith tossing bread over the walls at the boarder between Texas and Mexico in an international display of solidarity and an embodiment of the table of God’s kingdom.  The table fellowship that Jesus calls us to does not know or understand boarders.  As Bishop Hanson said in his Sunday sermon last July at the national youth gathering “you don’t need a green card to come to this table.”  This kingdom hospitality calls us to be dreamers and to image a world that looks like God’s kingdom.  This radical kingdom hospitality calls us to take risks for the sake of the Gospel.  
    Friends in Christ, I have a dream.  I have a dream that every time we gathered for worship we would spend time gathered around God’s table to be refreshed and renewed for our kingdom work in the world.  I have a dream that this faith community, that we, the people of Bethany, would be a church of risk-takers for the sake of the Gospel.  That we would be risk-takers for the sake of love.  I have a dream that our time spent around God’s table would help us to re-imagine the world around us as God’s kingdom.  I have a dream that we would be dreamers open to the movement of the spirit and the radical hospitality of God’s kingdom.