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.    

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.

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.   

The Future Belongs to Us

I had the privilege of returning home to Brenham to preach one more time at my home congregation, St. Paul's, before beginning my call at Bethany in Fredericksburg this week.  Bellow is the manuscript from that sermon, based on Luke 11:1-13.

It’s good to be home once again.  I can’t thank y’all enough for continuing to welcome me into this community of faith.  The seminary journey is now over and I rejoice with my wife and family this morning that I have a job!  I start at Bethany Lutheran in Fredericksburg this week.  I am so blessed to have been called by Bethany and I look forward to the years ahead as I continue to learn about what it means to both be a leader and a follower of Jesus Christ.
This morning we rejoin Jesus and his disciples on the road to Jerusalem.  In Luke’s story of Jesus, beginning in chapter nine, all the way through chapter eighteen, we get a detailed log of the travel narrative of Jesus and his disciples.  We witness what it means to be a disciple “on the way” with Jesus.  Today’s lesson, while familiar on the surface, is a deep pool into which we shall wade.  
“Lord, teach us to pray...just as John taught his disciples.”  It’s a simple request.  The disciples, on the road with Jesus, notice that he takes time to pray.  At least every day, perhaps multiple times a day, it’s a rhythm that they pick up on and it is one that spikes their curiosity.  The disciples knew that John (the Baptizer) had taught his disciples how to pray, so perhaps they too want to tap into the wisdom of Jesus, their teacher.  After witnessing him pray for the dozenth time on the road, the disciples approach Jesus, “Lord, teach us to pray.”  
The transcript of what Jesus says that we have from Luke is so simple and straight forward; “Father, hallowed be your name. Your kingdom come. Give us each day our daily bread. And forgive us our sins, for we ourselves forgive everyone indebted to us.  And do not bring us into the time of trail.”  Absent are the familiar words we say now each week when we gather for worship.  Missing are the comfortable petitions that we may say at home with our children or before we turn out the lights.  Gone are the tricky changes brought on by different versions meant to simplify the prayer.  What Jesus offers his disciples is a stripped down version that cuts to the chase of what it means to pray.    
There are a few things to notice in this simple prayer from Jesus.  This prayer, the Lord’s prayer, being so familiar, often gets overlooked and in a way misunderstood.  We use these words all the time.  They are so familiar to us that we often glaze over them without really registering what they mean.  But here we have very specific sentences from Luke that go deep into our relationship with God and one another.  Today, for a brief moment, let us shed what we know, what we think we know, and try to hear these words as Jesus spoke them, and as Luke crafted them, for they give us a glimpse of God’s kingdom. 
The first thing to notice is that every one of the appeals in this prayer is in the imperative tense.  For those of us who have gotten rusty on our english grammar, this means that every one of the statements is a command.  We are literally commanding God to “let your name be Holy,” to “let your kingdom come,” to “give us our bread to today.”  These are commands.  We are commanding that these appeals come to life in our midst.  This reaches close to the heart of biblical prayer.  Prayer that we witness in scripture is persistent, demanding, impertinent, and shameless.  Jesus demonstrates to us that this is one way of being in a relationship with God.  And this is nothing new in the history of God’s interacting with the world.  In our reading from Genesis this morning we have the witness of Abraham haggling with God about how many righteous folk it would take for God to spare Sodom.  Abraham shamelessly grapples with God and God changes God’s mind.  
I am reminded of a story told by the great preacher Ton Long.  He recalls the tale told by a pastor he knew in Atlanta.  One morning while this pastor was meeting with his staff the phone rang.  Bad news.  One of their fellow staff members had been mugged on their morning jog and stabbed in the heart.  The outlooked was grim.  The meeting ended immediately and the remaining members of the staff went to the chapel to pray.  They stood in a circle and the pastor remembered the prayers being soft-spoken and weak at best, as if the folks had already given her over to death.  That is, until the custodian prayed.  The pastor commented that it was “the most athletic prayer” he had ever heard.  The man cried; “You got to heal her!  You’ve done it for me.  You’ve done it for my family.  God, you got to bring healing.”  It was as if he had grabbed God by the lapels and would not let go until healing came.  The pastor said that God would have been embarrassed not to bring healing.  Such is the model of bold, commanding prayer.  
The second aspect of this prayer that we hear this morning is the communal nature of the appeals.  This is not an individualistic prayer.  This prayer is not about me and my own.  This prayer addresses the needs of the community, the needs of the promised Kingdom of God.  We pray for “our bread for today.”  This is not an request for me to get my own bread.  It is a call to God for bread to sustain the community.  For bread to nurture the rich, the poor, the righteous, the foolish, the rowdy, and the soft-spoken, this ship of fools that we call humanity.  This is an appeal about our shared bread.  Again, it’s about building community.  We are all in this together.  
The final aspect of this prayer is that it is Spirit driven.  Hidden in plain sight in the last line of our reading today is the most important clause of how we ought to understand this prayer; “how much more will the heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to those who ask.”  Folded into the lines of this prayer is an appeal for God to send us the Holy Spirit.  The Holy Spirit is the one who teaches us how to share our bread, and who opens us up to the depths of forgiveness.  It is the Holy Spirit who guides our prayer, not our own desires or resolve.  Jesus invites us to a life of prayer that is driven by the Spirit and it is through the Spirit that we are taught how to pray.
Friends in Christ, in my study this week I came across the same phrase over and over again from one of my favorite theologians Walter Wink.  He says that the arc of history belongs to those who pray.  I want to take that a step further.  The future of our world belongs to those who pray.  Through prayer we participate in the kingdom of God as it breaks into the world around us.  Through our prayers, we believe the kingdom into being.  As we listen to the Spirit, who speaks through us, we learn how to trust in God’s promised kingdom.  We learn that this trust is an active, living thing.  We learn that praying about hunger in our community will not help those in need until we realize that perhaps our recognizing the hunger in our midst is the Holy Spirit praying through us.  And that when we act upon this prayer by feeding those who hunger, we are trusting the kingdom of God into existence.  
The future belongs to those who pray.  Prayer is an active aspect of following Jesus.  Our praying reorients us in the world.  You and I can write the script of life around us.  Our prayers knit us together into the community of faith.  Our prayers, guided by the Spirit, help us to live into what God is already doing in our world.  The way we pray changes how we interact with the world.  We turn from clenched fists to open hands as we learn how to bless others.  We learn how to use our privilege to help those on the margins gain access to the fruits of the table.  We recognize that its not about changing the whole world at once, but about meeting the needs of those we encounter in our daily lives, and doing what we can to change the world for them.  Dear friends, the future belongs to those who pray.  The future belongs to us.  You and I have been taught how to pray, and in praying, we trust God’s promise and bring God’s kingdom into existence.  Pray boldly dear people.  And may God’s promised kingdom come.      

The Bartimaeus Effect

Mark 10:46-52 (NRSV)
“They came to Jericho. As Jesus and his disciples and a large crowd were leaving Jericho, Bartimaeus son of Timaeus, a blind beggar, was sitting by the roadside. When he heard that it was Jesus of Nazareth, he began to shout out and say, ‘Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!’ Many sternly ordered him to be quiet, but he cried out even more loudly, ‘Son of David, have mercy on me!’ Jesus stood still and said, ‘Call him here.’ And they called the blind man, saying to him, ‘Take heart; get up, he is calling you.’ So throwing off his cloak, he sprang up and came to Jesus. Then Jesus said to him, ‘What do you want me to do for you?’ The blind man said to him, ‘My teacher, let me see again.’ Jesus said to him, ‘Go; your faith has made you well.’ Immediately he regained his sight and followed him on the way.”

The story of Bartimaeus from the gospel of Mark is a common tale.  In fact, I think we encounter this story all the time as we journey through this world.  I think that you and I, above all else, are Bartimaeus, sitting on the sidelines of life.  We are told what to believe, how to believe to it, and not to ask questions.  In a way, we have one perspective on the world.  I think that we live this story everyday.  

Know this.  This story of Bartimaeus, this story of you and me, is a metaphor about how we encounter the world.  The status quo, the powers, world in its fallen state, whatever you want to call it, has us believe that we can do nothing to change the way things are in the world.  The world is what it is; hard, calculated, fixed.  We are to play our part.  This is the perspective that is ground into our worldly experience.   Perhaps if we work hard enough we can make it through alright, remain in good standing.  If we live through system's perspective we are rewarded.  Wealth, statues, success.  This is the perspective of the fallen world.  But it is deceiving.  

The truth is this.  We literally sit on the sidelines, watching the world go by, trapped by our own outstretched hands, waiting for crumbs to fall from the table.  Sure, we get enough to get by on, but we are never really alive.  We never really get off of the sidelines.  We never gain a different perspective.  Yes their are success stories, but they are bound by the world's perspective.  Nothing has really changed.  The status quo, the powers, the world in its fallen state, is still in charge.  And at its whim, we are back to the sidelines, waiting for scrapes from the table.  We live this story every day.    

Until Jesus comes along.  Jesus has a way of changing things.  He has a way of turning our world upside down.  Jesus came into this world and did not share the world's perspective.  He came with a new perspective.  He came with God’s perspective.  And through God's perspective, everyone is a gift.  

Everyone is enough.  

Jesus came into this world and taught us how to truly live a life fully alive and empowered by God.  

Jesus taught us how to lift each other up and live in community.  

Jesus taught us how to share our bread.  

Jesus taught us how to forgive each other when we mess up.  

Jesus taught us what it means to live for one the other so that all may have abundant life.  

Jesus taught how to love.    

Love is a perspective that teaches us how to encounter the world anew.   Love teaches us how to life fully alive.  Life along the way with Jesus, life on the journey with Jesus, is about love.  And love changes everything.  

And the statues quo, the powers, the world in its fallen state, became angry.  This Jesus character was changing everything.  Something had to be done.  As so they did what they always do, the only thing that they know how to do.  The dealt out death.  They nailed God’s fully alive, embodied promise of love to the cross.   

The status quo, the powers, the world in its fallen state, thought it had Jesus on the ropes.  Thought it had silenced the one who taught the world what it was like to be fully alive.  But they were wrong. 

God always has the last word.  And that last word is love.  

So today, as we sit on the sidelines, not fully alive, rendered hazy by the world's perspective on life, the one who came into the world, to love and to heal, is still walking by out outstretched hands.  He comes, filled to over-flowing with love, offering us healing and a new perspective on how to live fully alive in this world.  He comes to us, regardless of who we are, and says that we are enough.  He comes and loves us back to life.  

And this is an ongoing process. 

I am sure that Bartimaeus stumbled along the way.  Gaining a new perspective is like learning how to ride a bike.  Sometimes you fall off.  But when you are following Jesus, he never tells you to turn around because you are not doing it the right way.  He just loves you and tells you to keep going. 

The Bartimaeus effect: gaining a new perspective through following Jesus Christ.  Everyday we have the opportunity to get up and follow Jesus.  We have the opportunity to be reoriented in the world and live a life grounded in love.  And it’s a daily calling.  

So join me friends.  Join me in following Jesus.  This blog will contain my thoughts, sermons, and musings as I continue to follow Jesus as a pastor in Fredericksburg, Texas.  Who knows what we may encounter along the way.  Who knows what new perspectives we might gain through following Jesus.