Sunday, July 31, 2011

Sermon - July 31, 2011

Matthew 14:13-21


God's Satisfying Bread


Now when Jesus heard (about the beheading of John the Baptist,) he withdrew from there ... to a deserted place.

The disciples came to (Jesus) and said, "This is a deserted place, and the hour is now late; send the crowds away so that they may go into the villages and buy food for themselves."

This is a deserted place. Matthew repeats his description twice, once in acknowledging where Jesus has gone and then again in the concern lifted by the disciples. What do they mean, "a deserted place"? And if it is so deserted why is it that everyone ends up there? Jesus, the disciples, and this crowd of over 5,000; they are all there, in this deserted place.

I was giving directions to the church last week. It was during the middle of the week, one of those hot afternoons when all the workers had stopped for the day and few students were milling around. I found myself saying, “It is a deserted looking place. But don’t give up; step over all the construction materials and come to the back door.”

We refer to places as “deserted” for a number of differing reasons. In using this description, perhaps the disciples meant it was a wilderness; a place in which food and shelter were difficult to come by. Perhaps the countryside was rugged and traveling in the dark was dangerous. Perhaps the disciples realized how far everyone had traveled and how long it would take them to return to their own homes. "This is a deserted place", they tell Jesus, "Send the crowds away."

But places can be deserted for reasons other than isolation or barrenness. In fact, the worst of the deserted places are those which we encounter in the midst of activity and bounty. The most frightful of deserted places are those which expose our vulnerability and weakness. Maybe the place at which our gospel lesson occurred was isolated and barren. But it occurs to me that its true desertedness may be a result of the reason why everyone found themselves there, in that place, together.

The opening verse of our reading tells us that Jesus with¬drew to this deserted place when he heard that John the Baptist had been behead¬ed. Our reading began with the 13th verse. Verses 1 through 12 of chapter 14 retell the story of Herodias' daughter dancing in celebration of Herod's birthday. Herod is so pleased he offers her whatever she may ask. At her mother's prompting, the girl asks for the head of John, presented to her on a platter.

Jesus hears what had happened and he feels the need to with¬draw, to a deserted place, to a place where he can reflect on the life of his teacher and consider what this means for all those who seek to serve God. The place is deserted because Jesus has come here to acknowledge that being a messenger of God doesn't mean that one is protect¬ed from all harm. Evil prowls like a lion, looking for those whom it would devour. It has claimed the life of John; perhaps Jesus is beginning to realize the tenuous nature of his own life. The place to which Jesus goes is a deserted place precisely because it is the place where he goes to be alone in his hurts and in his fears.

But when the crowd heard where Jesus was going, they followed him, on foot, from the towns. And when he came ashore, they were there waiting for him. The text tells us that he looked out and saw them, he had compassion for them, and cured their sick. And we realize that the crowd didn't come to this place because it was a great tourist spot. They had come because of their need. No words need to be spoken. Jesus simply has to look at them and something about them tells him that this is a crowd in need of compassion. Their need was written all over their lives.

The place where they encountered Jesus was a deserted place: deserted because there, in his presence, they could not conceal the desperate nature of their existence.

This is a deserted place, not merely because of its barrenness but because of those who have come.

I have wondered if it was this neediness which made the disciples so eager to be done with the crowd. Nothing gives you the jitters any worse than being bombarded on all sides by those whose very existence is a cry for help. The disciples plead with Jesus, "Send them away, please send them away. This, this is a deserted place."

Places can be deserted for reasons other than isolation or barrenness. The loneliness of this place seems to have resulted from the reasons why everyone found themselves there, together.

Which brings us back to this place. It isn’t the construction which makes us seem deserted, that feeling of desertedness comes from some other source. Isn’t it always a deserted place and time when we come together to intentionally set ourselves up to encounter God. It is a deserted place because we come here out of our need - our desperate need to be fed.

It is a deserted place, wherever the people of God gather. Because anytime we intentionally set ourselves up to encounter God our need is plainly written upon our lives. This is a deserted place. We didn't come here out of strength, out of confidence, or out of wholeness. We came here because our lives are lacking these things and we are hoping, hoping that we can call an end to our search and leave this place satisfied.

This is a deserted place. Not because of its isolation or barrenness but because of the reason why we are all here, together.

The disciples came to him and said, "This is a deserted place, and the hour is now late; send the crowds away." The loneliness is too much to bear. There is no cure for all their illnesses. No one can expect such a large crowd to be cared for by just one man. Just send them away and have it over with.

But Jesus said, "They need not go away; you give them something to eat." Jesus is talking about food here, but not really taking about food. They have come, to this deserted place, and the hour is late, but Jesus will not send them away. "They need not go...you give them something." And the text tells us that they all ate and were satisfied. There was so much left over that twelve baskets full were collected.

It is deserted for us to come to this place and to acknowledge our need. What if we acknowledge it only to find ourselves being sent away? This is a deserted place, and no one likes deserted places. No one that is, except Jesus, who sought a deserted place. Maybe Jesus knew that the deserted places are the best places to go if one is trying to find God.

Here, in this deserted place, God does God's greatest work. All who come to this place are satisfied.

AMEN.

Sunday, July 24, 2011

sermon - July 24, 2011

6th Sunday after Pentecost - Year A
Matthew 13:31-33, 44-52

Like Nothing We Have Known


The kingdom of heaven is like so many things, yet it is like nothing we have ever known. The kingdom is so different that the best Jesus can do is to give us images, images which might allow us a peek. Glimpses of that which can be illuminated through so many things - yet is unlike anything we have ever known. The kingdom of heaven is like so many things, yet it is unlike anything else.

Even so, Jesus realized the importance of giving his disciples a glimpse. Jesus felt the need to share with those who would follow him an insight to this mysterious thing called the kingdom. He under¬stood how important this would be to them as they continued the ministry of proclaiming the kingdom's arrival. It was important for them; it remains important for us.

In Mark, Luke and John, the reference is to the Kingdom of God. Matthew, the Jewish writer of a gospel, finds it difficult to freely use the proper name. Jewish law forbade the speaking of God’s name. Thus he prefers to substitute "kingdom of heaven." A concordance check reveals how often Jesus spoke of this "kingdom;" and how seldom he speaks of heaven itself. The kingdom of heaven is an image wider and more inclusive than the notion contained in so much of the talk we hear about “heaven.” The Kingdom of Heaven differs greatly from the idea of an exclusive country club in the sky, reserved for those we perceive as righteous. The kingdom may be like some of our mental images, but it cannot be fully captured in those images either.

Our first parable makes precisely this point. The kingdom of heaven is like a mustard seed, it may appear very small in its beginnings, but it quickly grows into something larger than would have been believed possible. The kingdom of heaven appears to be a simple reference to a place where God reigns - but it rapidly expands to include so much more.

Remember the story of Jesus as he approaches the city of Jerusalem? He laments over the city's inability to receive her prophets. He acknowledges that Jerusalem stones those who are sent to her; the inhabitants of the city murder those whom God sends. Jesus knows this, Jesus acknowledges this, and yet he cries for the city. He will not feel bitterness against them.

Contrast this with how quickly we write off those whom we consider to be uncooperative with God and God's plan. We are very fast to cry out against the sinners. Thomas Aquinas wrote that it would bring the Christians in heaven an added joy to watch the evil-doers burn in hell. The kingdom of heaven does not include such past-times. The inhabitants of the kingdom lament the fate of non-believers.

Seemingly small - the kingdom which Jesus describes is large enough to encompass more than we realize. It grows and provides shelter to all those in need of rest. The kingdom of heaven is not exclusive - it is inclusive. It welcomes all to come and live within its shade.

The kingdom of heaven is like yeast. It does not exist for itself; rather its purpose is to have an impact on that with which it comes into contact.

Heaven, and talk of heaven, so often centers on MY getting to that blessed and promised place. All too often, talk of heaven becomes some sort of a pep-rally, encouraging us to strive for the prize. The kingdom of heaven is different. In the kingdom, one looses oneself in the process of impacting the lives of others. The yeast interacts until the whole loaf rises.

Understanding the Christian life as an invitation to positively impact the lives of others is the measure of faithfulness encouraged by Jesus’ parable. In listening to religious talk, listen for references to what the individual thinks they will get from all of this, contrasted with references to the good which will come for others. In the kingdom, we are the leaven which makes the whole loaf rise.

It is important to consider the impact the followers of Jesus have upon the world, especially as we consider the next two parables. In these, Jesus addresses the insurmountable worth of this kingdom. It is like a treasure found in a field or a pearl of great value. In these, Jesus is stating what he will repeat time and again; Seek ye first the kingdom of God. There is nothing which is to be a higher priority.

But I can only imagine myself making the kingdom my first priority - I can only believe that it is the pearl of great worth - when I am allowed to see the kingdom as a reunion of all that God has made. It can only be the precious treasure, hidden in a field, if it in¬cludes more than the pious few.

Don’t you just hate it when you hear someone expounding their “I got mine, too bad about you” theology? It is so disappointing to encounter that mindset which seems to rejoice in the leaving behind of others. How terribly self-centered, to allow ourselves to fixate on our eternal fate while ignoring those whom Christ came to save.

We Protestants are quick to criticize the Roman Catholic Church's practice of veneration of the saints. But in our criticism, we may have lost a very important lesson taught by such veneration. Veneration of the Saints remind us that there is no greater act of faith than to pray for others. When we call upon the saints, we are asking those who have proven their faithfulness to include us in their prayers. Calling upon a saint is a reminder that God's most faithful children are those who devote their lives to intercession on behalf of sinners. In asking the saints to pray for us, we are reminded that salvation will only come when all are saved.

A wide net is cast into the sea. It catches fish of every kind. Our fifth parable acknowledges that contained within the net are the bad and the good. The kingdom of heaven is like such a net - it reaches out to gather everyone. It pulls them in, and does not concern itself with differentiating between the good and the bad. Heaven may be the exclusive country club for the pious. But the kingdom of heaven welcomes us all, leaving the final division to God and God's angels.

The kingdom of heaven is like so many things, yet it is unlike anything we have ever known. Jesus asks his disciples if they have understood this. He tells them that to understand means they will pull out of their resources much which is old, much which is new. It is this blending together which makes them priests of the kingdom.

We can hold on to our tried and true notions of what heaven is like. We can bring those old images out and share them with others around us. But as scribes for the kingdom, we must also set before others a new vision – a vision of a kingdom where God's reign is secure, where all of creation is welcome.

The kingdom is like so many things, yet it is unlike anything we have ever experienced. May these glimpses move us ever closer to this marvelous gift of God.

Amen.

Sunday, July 3, 2011

Sermon - July 3, 2011

4th of July - Preserving our Nation



Happy 4th of July Weekend. I know that there are at least a couple of folks who are able to be here today because of the 4th. It is great to have you with us. I hope that all of you have some sort of a celebration planned, or at least a relaxing outing.

I was in a conversation this week with Bill and Ada Lou Steirer. I told them I had vacation coming, but that first I had to prepare today’s sermon. Bill asked me if I was planning to preach on the text, or address the day. He asked me, “Have you ever preached a political sermon?” My initial reply was, “Aren’t they all?” And from there the conversation moved into what it means to be “political.”

In the first year of the ELCA, a statement was agreed upon and released, outlining what it means for our Church to be engaged in political or social issues. Another conversation this week (with Farrell Brown and John Broadwell) helped me to understand that some do not see the actions of our Church as consistent with that initial statement. Never-the-less, allow me to refer to it here, and then move on to what might be appropriate for us to consider, on this July 4th weekend.

The first of the ELCA Social Statements addressed the fine line that we hope to walk between ignoring issues and blatantly telling members of our congregations what they are to think and/or how they are to vote. It is the goal of our Church to assist its members in making sound decisions, drawing from Biblical and theological resources, yet avoiding the temptation to insist that there is but one correct position to be taken.

Walking that line is difficult; and there is always going to be a tendency to hear the comments of another as an endorsement or a condemnation of our own views.

I know – I have heard it said – that the press releases which come from the Office of the Bishop, seem to some to cross that line. I will not disagree that these statements raise a perspective which often differs from our own political or social views. My regret is that we live in a society, in a culture, in a nation which is becoming so polarized that everything said by another is summed up as either an endorsement of our side, or a statement from the other side.
I had started this sermon before my Thursday golf outing with John and Farrell. Twice during the day I tried to test the waters with them. Partially to see if a “political sermon” would fly; partially to find words which would unify rather than divide. We didn’t get past the opening sentences. Mixing politics and religion proves to be extremely difficult. So difficult, that we tend to give up and never try.

A possible role model on this matter is Senator Paul Simon. Do some of you remember him? He was a Senator from Illinois, a Missouri Synod Lutheran, with a fondness for bowties. He spoke at several Chicago area events during the years I was in seminary there. In that setting, when asked a question, he would begin his answer by bringing forth the Biblical stories and passages which he saw as connected to the issue at hand. After he had considered these, he would go on to articulate how he might vote, when particular issues came up in Congress.

Now, I want to be careful, and I want to remain honest to his presentation. There are very few (if any) instances where there is a Bible verse or even a collection of Bible verses which settle a modern-day decision. It is not the outcome of his deliberations which deserves our accolades, it is the method.

And that method is what we desperately need to recapture. That way of addressing political decisions is what the social statements of our Church are attempting to do.

We have become so divided between this political party and that political party that gridlock is upon us. It seems that too many of the votes have more to do with which party will win the next election than with the matter at hand. Everything is a battle between this side of the aisle and that side. And these deep divisions have made their way all the way out of Washington and into our small villages and even into our congregations.

We seem to have lost the ability to engage in civil discourse.

I hope, when this day is over, that you won’t go home and talk about Pastor Chris preaching a “political sermon.” I hope what you will hear me saying is that a confusion about what it means to separate Church and State has resulted in a separation of Christian and State. (Did you get that?) Confusion about it means to uphold separation of Church and State has all too often resulted in a separation between Christian and State. It is not, nor has it ever been the intention of our Church to tell you how you should vote or which candidate you ought to support. However, it is the stated intention of our Church, that as Christians voice their position, they need the benefit of Biblical and theological reflection. Every vote cast, every voice raised by a Christian, reflects what it is that that follower of Jesus believes. It is not the role of the Church to tell us what to do, but one of the purposes of the Church is to establish an opportunity for us to reflect, discuss, and decide how we will vote.

Every word, spoken by Christ, is political. Everything he said affects and directs how it is that his followers are to live in the world. Unless Christ rules every aspect of our lives, our faith remains a sideline or a hobby.

We all have our own short statement of what it is that has made this country great. I would suggest that it is our democracy. What makes us great is our ability to take a wide range of political opinion, create a place where those opinions can be expressed, and then somehow manage to reach the compromises which allow us to set a course for the common good. Losing the ability to engage in civil discourse places this greatest in peril.

As Christians, we know it takes to return to civil discourse. It begins with an openness to the other, to their person and to their perspective. We call it hospitality. More than tolerance, it is truly an acceptance of the other.

From there, we humbly acknowledge our own limitations. Look at the 19th verse from today’s reading from Romans 7. Paul writes: “For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I do.” We have a name for this in our Christian tradition – this is what we call “Original Sin.” It is the inability of any human being to know all things. It is the limitations associated with this body of clay. When opinions or view are expressed with a remembrance of these words of scripture, our arrogance is muted by our honesty.

Finally, as Christians, we have a wonderful model for what it means to embrace those whose views differ from our own. Haven’t we learned to co-exist with a myriad of denominations? Are we not able to honor our own tradition without insisting that all the Methodist become Lutheran or all the Catholics become Episcopalian? We live with differences, refusing to insist that only one view is correct.

I hope I have not offended you this morning. And I pray that I have not misused the pulpit by implying that one way of doing Church is right and all the others are wrong. I do not embrace the notion of a Christian Nation, we are a secular nation, one in which there is (and hopefully always will be) a separation between Church and State. It is a wonderful structure and one which has allowed us and our forebears to achieve great good. We owe it to those who have gone before to engage in political discourse with passion and integrity. For us to be the nation we hope to be, we must relearn what it means to enter a room with differing opinions and leave with a deeper appreciation for those who gathered there with us. Only then might we achieve the common good we desire.

I hope some of this might prove helpful…..