Tuesday, August 19, 2014

Devotion - Tuesday, August 19

Romans 14 is a great passage for us as we begin a new year together.  Here, Paul addresses the great variety of understanding and previous exposure to the practices and convictions of the community.  He uses the term "weak," but we should not take this to be an insult.  He also speaks of eating "vegetables" as a limitation; the reference is avoiding meat that was offered to idols.

Paul writes: "As for the one who is weak in the faith, welcome him, but not for disputes over opinions.  One believes they may eat anything, while the weak person eats only vegetables.  Let not him who eats despise him who abstains, and let not him who abstains pass judgement on the one who eats; for God has welcomed him."

It would be a horrible thing if the group who gathers for Wednesday meals and/or Sunday worship were all identical.  C.S. Lewis advised that being of "one fold," does not mean "one pool."  In order to be the people of God, we must include all those whom God has welcomed.  (And God welcomes everyone.)

Some among us will be the home-town-champion at Bible bingo.  Others will find it difficult to locate the book of I Peter.  Some will appreciate the earlier reference to C.S. Lewis, others will have no idea who that is.

Looking again at the passage, it may be helpful to read "weak"  as "having had the luxury of idle reading."  Those who have had such a luxury will have more information at their disposal.  Those without such a luxury will have other experiences to share and offer the community.  God forbid if our variety of gifts were to lead to "disputes over opinions."

Do not be concerned about your own prior exposure. Do not be prideful in your knowledge.  Come, because God has welcomed you, into the community which bears the name and mark of Jesus.

Monday, August 18, 2014

Devotion - Monday, August 18

Romans 13:8 reads:  "Owe no one anything, except to love one another; for the person who loves their neighbor has fulfilled the law."

I think of this passage (I need to commit it to memory so it will be at the ready) each time I have a conversation about that it means to be a Christian.  Too often, we complicate the answer - we get into discussions about sacraments or acquiring understanding, or making a public profession.  "The person who loves their neighbor has fulfilled the law."

Loving our neighbor, loving them for who they are rather than who we would like to see them become, means recognizing in them the mark and seal of God.  It means recognizing their unseen pressures and their life-challenges.  It means hearing from them the influences and voices which have molded their response to the world.

We meet a lot of new neighbors when we settle into our residence hall/apartment, when we go to a new set of classes, and when we get involved in extra-curricular activities.  Don't be reserved - waiting until you understand the things referenced in the previous paragraph - before you extend to them the love of Christ.  Loving those neighbors is where it begins, and where it ends.

There is another verse which comes to mind - What you give is what you receive.  Freely offering the love of God is the surest route to that same love coming into your own life.

Sunday, August 10, 2014

Sermon - 9th Sunday after Pentcost - Year A

Matthew 14:21-33     

 

               Jesus Calles Us Into the Tumult


 

“When they got into the boat, the wind ceased.”

I like that image.  Safe aboard the boat with Jesus.  The wind calmed – either by command of our Savior or by some realization its own that it has nothing with which to challenge the effect Jesus has on this vessel. 

“When they got into the boat, the wind ceased.”  I like that image.  I like it a lot; particularly given the week that has just passed. 

I’ll start with my household.  Caleb (my youngest) left yesterday for a year of intentional Christian community and service.  He will live in a Lutheran Volunteer Corp house and work with a homeless ministry in Omaha.  Kat (my oldest) has a job – “Yeah”!  With Lutheran Family Services – “Double Yeah”! But she doesn’t have an apartment and this Friday her significant other graduated from Clemson and turned 30 years old.  We ended up helping her put on a picnic party at the lake for him, his family, and his friends.  Smith also graduated from Clemson on Friday.  He already has a job.  But his roommate moved out.  So the extra bedroom needed to be filled with furniture at my house.  Two pick-up loads.
“When they got into the boat, the wind ceased.”    I like that image.  I like it a lot. 

I can see the desirability of such a boat ride with Jesus it even more clearly when I break out of my little shell and think of the storms battering our extended faith family.  I made two pastoral visits this week with folks facing TAVR replacements of their aortic valves.  You probably have already looked over long list of hospitalized and ill.  We pray today for those battling cancers – fully aware that the chemo treatments are no longer having any effect.  The aging process brings wisdom, but it also brings sever limitations with mobility and the simplest of household chores becomes more than one can accomplish.  How do you help an aging parent put away their things and abandon the house that for decades has been their home? 

“When they got into the boat, the wind ceased.” 

Like me, you probably come here week after week looking for the boat that Jesus climbed into.  Like me, you may have come this morning in search of that vessel where Jesus and his followers experience the calming of the wind and a respite from their battle against the waves.  And that respite does come;  that calm is found.  It was only a few short weeks ago that we spent the entire sermon time re-memorizing the 23rd Psalm, a song which speaks of God’s care. 

Twice, in Matthew’s Gospel, there is talk of ragging seas and persons fearful for their ability to survive.  In both instances, Jesus calms the storm.  But in both instances it isn’t all that clear that calming the storm is what concerned Jesus the most. 

Today’s reading is the second story about a storm at sea.  Mark Matthew 14 in your bible, then flip back to Matthew 8:23ff.   

Matthew 8 is the story of Jesus and the disciples attempting to cross the sea of Galilee.  During the trip, a strong wind begins to blow and the boat is tossed about in the rough seas.  In this story, Jesus is asleep while the disciples and the seamen fight the ragging storm. 

Jesus being asleep is the clearest of indications that this story is not merely about Jesus’ ability to calm the storm.  Of course he could do it.  The question in this story is what would the disciples do?  How would they respond to adversity and threats?  

They wake him.  “Lord, save us!  We are perishing!”  In the Gospel of Mark, they are accusative of Jesus.  There they say “Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?”  (Mark 4:38)  

Jesus calms that storm.  But only after he asks them, “Why are you afraid, you of little faith.” 
            Does that line sound familiar?  Turn back to today’s lesson.  Matthew 14:31.  Jesus says,  “You of little faith, why did you doubt?” 

Ragging storms, high winds, threatening situations – these seem to be the times and places where depth of faith and understanding of intentions is discovered.   

I want to be in that boat with Jesus – AFTER he calms the sea and we all climb aboard.  Jesus seems to be primarily interested in how I react in the moments before he imposes his divine protection and makes everything okay.  It at least causes me to wonder whether we miss the point when we speak of following Jesus as a calm ride in a glassy sea.  That ride comes after the disappointed Jesus asks why their faith is so unsure.  The old hymn says, “Jesus calls us, O’er the tumult.”  It may be more biblically accurate to say that Jesus calls us into the tumult.  

In the e-news I sent a note about the action word in Matthew 14:22.  The English translation says Jesus “made the disciples get into the boat and to on ahead.”  A more accurate translation is that he commanded them.  He ordered them to get in that boat and go out into the threatening weather.  If you still have a finger holding the place of the earlier story, you will see that in Matthew 8:18 Jesus also “orders” them to get in the boat and shove off.  It is almost as if Jesus wants us to leave the security of the shoreline and navigate ourselves to the very place where high winds push us from every side and threatening waves crash our boat. 

I want you to leave this morning comforted by the songs we sing and the prayers we offer and the meal we share.  Jesus wants this, too.  I know he does. 

But the lessons we read also insist that you leave here this morning questioning whether you have made your own safety and security and prosperity so important that you have jumped into the boat and made your concerns the center of your prayers.  Jesus invites Peter to come to him, on the rough waters, and in the blowing wind.  It is only after Peter reveals a lack of faith that Jesus hauls him back into the boat and the storm is calmed. 

The boat is always there – for you, for me, for all of us.  And, Jesus will take care of us. 

But Jesus also wants us to reflect on something more than saving ourselves, or our way of life, or our notion of what is best for the world.   

Don’t climb into the boat too soon.  Stay in the wind and rough seas.  But look to Jesus.  And looking to Jesus, do not be afraid.  Faith will come.  And it will make amazing things possible.  Above all, it will introduce us to the blessedness of living for something larger and better and more worthy than preserving our own individual life.
 

Amen.

Sunday, August 3, 2014

Sermon - 8th Sunday after Pentecost


Matthew 14:13-21     

 What Kingdom Do We Seek?

I hope you brought your bibles today.  I realized that what I really need to do to encourage you to bring your bible is to point out that I could cut at least 5 minutes out of every sermon if I didn’t have to tell you what you can’t see when you don’t have a bible to look at.  So here is the deal – when 50% of you bring a bible, I will reduce my self-appointed length of sermon by one page.  Deal?

 Here is what I wish you could see this morning:  we are reading from Matthew 14.  Verses 13-21.  What you can’t see by looking at the back of the bulletin alone is what has been going on in the chapter before these 9 verses.  I hope I won’t offend anyone if I say that the order of the events in the Gospels is a construct of the writer of that particular Gospel.  The order of events varies between Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John – with each of the gospel writers putting the story together in a way that helps them to emphasis what they believe the major points to be.  Order does matters.  So Matthew 14 needs to be read with an eye on what was reported in the previous chapter. 

 
Do any of you, with a bible (or really good memory) want to remind the rest of us as to what has been going on, in the 13th chapter of Matthew? 

 
Chapter 13 is filled with parables.  We have been reading those parables for the past three Sundays.  All of those parables coalesce around a central topic.  And that topic is “The Kingdom.”  Jesus is trying, desperately trying, to help the disciples and his hearers catch a glimpse of the Kingdom he came to reveal.  This Kingdom is like so many things, yet unlike anything they have ever known. 

 
And why is it unlike anything they have ever known?  Because it is so different from what they are experiencing.  The first 12 verses of Matthew 14 contain a grand interruption to any thought that the Kingdom is at hand.  Between those glimpses of the Kingdom in Chapter 13 and the events which take center stage in today’s reading we have the retelling of how Herod’s concern about this new Kingdom lead him to kill John the Baptist.  The Kingdom which Jesus came to proclaim was a concern, it was a threat, to the kingdom preferred by those who seek power and control.

 
Matthew 13 is filled with parables.  Parables about “The Kingdom.” 

 
When Matthew tells these parables, he speaks of the Kingdom of “Heaven.”  In Mark & Luke the same parables are told but here the reference is to the Kingdom of “God.”  I will say a bit more about why Matthew does this, later.  For now, I want to address how this change has affected the way Christians envision the “Kingdom.”

 
I had never paid much attention to this difference until I started reading the writings of a Baptist Preacher from New York City.  Walter Rauschenbusch pointed out that the shift from speaking of the “Kingdom of God,” to talk about the “Kingdom of Heaven” allowed too many of his fellow preachers to pretend that Jesus’ preaching was all about the sweet-by-and-by; that what concerned Jesus was some realm out there somewhere, beyond the space and time we currently inhabit.  Rauschenbusch disagreed.   ‘Jesus had some things to say about the kingdoms we seek here on earth,’ (my paraphrase.)  The Kingdom of which Jesus invites us to be a part begins now and is lived here. 

 
The reason Matthew changes “God” to “Heaven” isn’t because he thought Jesus was talking about what comes after death.  Rather, Matthew wrote for a group which included a lot of Jewish converts.  He knew they would be offended if forced to say the name of God.  So, he changes it.  Matthew KNOWS that Jesus is concerned about the here and now. Matthew understands that the Kingdom of which Jesus speaks is to make a real difference in what happens to us here and now.  That is why he organizes chapters 13 and 14 as he does.

 
There is really nothing new to say about the parable of the Feeding of the 5,000.  I decided early in the week that it was the ultimate ego trip for me to think that I could come up with something insightful and exciting that I had only recently discovered by way of deep research or profound, prayerful meditation.  You know the story.  You know what happens.  You know what is going to happen even before the story gets going.  At issue, I want to suggest this morning, is not so much what happens, rather the issue is whether we want to ask significant questions about what this ancient story means for us today.  What does it say to us about our preoccupation with some future heavenly kingdom, sought after at the expense of paying really close attention to the kingdoms we build on this side of eternity?

 
Jesus has been telling parable after parable about the Kingdom.  Some of the images he uses get an agreeing nod from us; some throw us for a bit of a loop.  If you were here two weeks ago, you heard my rant about the so called “interpretations” of the parables.  Those are little more than attempts on the part of the young, developing Church to soften the bite of Jesus’ words.  They worked really hard to make Jesus seem more like a wise grandparent than like the embodiment of God’s insistence that justice be done on earth.

 
Jesus’ parables about the Kingdom stand the world on its head and reverse the understanding of what is important and who is important.

 
Jesus knows that it will be difficult for us to hear these parables; nearly impossible for us to understand.  So he asks them in Matthew 13:51, “Have you understood all this?”  What are they going to say?  Are they going to say, “No, Jesus.  You are a lousy teacher - whose style of using cute little stories rather than telling us directly what you mean leaves us wondering (and often arguing) about what it is that you want us to do.”  So, they answer. “Yes, we understand.”  But they don’t.  If you want proof that they don’t understand, look at Matthew 14:16 (this one is on your bulletin.)  Jesus has been talking about the coming of the Kingdom.  But when there is an opportunity for the Kingdom to be experienced by these 5,000 men (plus all the women and children) those who had just answered, “Sure, we understand,” are ready to send those 5,000 souls off to fend for themselves.

 
Note if you will – there is no little boy in Matthew’s story, offering to share his lunch.  There is no little boy in Mark or Luke either.  You only get that sweet, innocent child in John.  “Sweet?”  “Innocent?”  Naïve and stupid is more like it.  5,000 men plus who knows how many women and children; you are the only one whose mother loved them enough to send along a bag lunch, and you are going to just hand it over?  It takes a lot of trust in the Kingdom of God to risk sharing one’s bread.

 
Jesus tells the disciples, “You feed them.”  Jesus exposes that their lack of confidence in the unfolding of the Kingdom of which he has spent so much time talking.  They have heard his parables and said they understand but they continue to believe that the Kingdom of which Jesus speaks may come someday, but not this day. 

 
Jesus says, “You feed them.”  “You make this Kingdom in which all God’s children have their bellies filled to overflowing real for these 5,000 men.  And you do it NOW!”

 
There is nothing as powerful as giving a meal to one who is hungry.  There are few things as well received as the assurance that another will provide for us.  The story tells us that these 5,000 are in a deserted place and the hour is late.  Panic will soon set in.  “Send them away,” the disciples tell Jesus.  “Let them go back to their ramshackle homes where they might have enough barley to scrape together a biscuit or two.  “Tell them to go,” the disciples insist.  This is a deserted place and the hour is late.

 
But it is the place where Jesus is.  It is the place where talk about the Kingdom has attracted a huge following.  It is the place where all the talk about the Kingdom is going to be made real in action.

 
“You give them something to eat.”

 
So long as we don’t have our bibles, it is way too easy for some slick talking preacher to pull a few verses out, print them on the back of some piece of paper, and tell you that “this” is what the story means.  I realize that my comments this morning also represent an attempt to encourage you to think maybe this story means “that.”  Decide for yourselves.  Read, and re-read these chapters.  Remember that the insertion of chapters and verses was added much later to the original story, first penned by Matthew. 

 
But I realize that the truly challenging thing about this morning’s message isn’t about literary criticism of the Bible, it is this insistence that we completely miss the point when we read these parables and allow ourselves to think they are only talking about what happens after we die, or after Jesus returns.  The stories Jesus tells about the Kingdom are not comforting words intended to appease our fear of death.  They are instructions on how we are to live the lives we have on this side of the grave.

 
The kingdom of heaven may be about such things.  The kingdom of God is about what happens to us today, tomorrow, and all the days in which we draw our breath.  The invitation from Jesus is to live in this Kingdom – Now.  And living it in such a way as to make it a reality for all those who find themselves in deserted places and a late hour. 

 
Jesus is saying to us - “You feed them.”


Amen.

Sunday, July 20, 2014

Sermon - 6th Sunday of Pentcost


Matthew 13:24-30, 36-43

 

Many of you already know that for me, the most intriguing topic in Christian theology is the problem of evil.  I have this well-rehearsed and very elongated rant I go on as to how a loving, all-powerful God could co-exist with evil.  I am sure that I have preached that sermon at least a dozen times in my twenty-one years as your pastor.  If you want to subject yourself to a refresher, just let me know.  As I said, that lecture of mine is well-rehearsed and always at the ready.
 

Today’s Gospel lesson includes a reference to how evil enters our world, and it was tempting for me to return to my well-rehearsed pre-conceived comments on this topic.  But I had to admit that in this parable the origin of the evil is a side topic; the point of the parable (or so it seems to me) is what are we to do with the evil that is among us.

 

(Jesus) put before them another parable: “The kingdom of heaven may be compared to someone who sowed good seed in his field; but while everyone was asleep, an enemy came and sowed weeds among the wheat, and then went away.”

 

Just a word about parables and why so much of Jesus’ teachings are in parables.   Here is another place where it would be handy to have a bible.  If you do, open it to Matthew 13.  Matthew 13 begins with last week’s Gospel lesson – the parable of the four soils.  That runs from verse 1 to 9.  In verse 10ff, Jesus offers an explanation of why he uses parables.  He speaks of those who “seeing they do not perceive, and hearing they do not listen.”  Jesus speaks in parables, at least in part, so that the task of interpretation is left open.  Not so much to test us, I would suggest, but rather to challenge us to perceive and to listen.  We can’t simply be told what scripture means, we need to determine what it means for us. 

 

That is why I look with suspicion to the “explanations” offered for last week’s parable and the one for this week.  I am more than a little suspect of these explanations.  They tidy the whole thing up just a little too cleanly.  I am not sure Jesus would have taught in parables and then turned around and explained what the parable teaches.  That is not a critique of Jesus, but of Matthew.

 

So, back to our parable… 

“The kingdom of heaven may be compared to someone who sowed good seed in his field; but while everyone was asleep, an enemy came and sowed weeds among the wheat, and then went away.”

 

The seed is good seed.  While some of the servants question the Master’s seed selection, he insists that what he has planted is good, pure, uncontaminated.  If we are looking for someone to blame for the existence of evil, it should not be the one who planted the seeds.  This is a bit of a rebuff to my preferred answer to how evil comes into the world.  As one who believes that God is the creator of ALL things, everything in the cosmos answers to God and came into being because of God’s actions.  So, even this “enemy” is a creature, created by God.  If God wants to prevent the weeds, then why doesn’t God stop the enemy from sowing the bad seed?

 

This parable isn’t going to answer those questions.  What it does is acknowledge that as pure as God’s intentions and hopes may be, those who oppose God will find a way to contaminate God’s fields.  The fields which we observe will have the wheat that God has planted, along with the weeds which were over-seeded among the choice grain.

 

I have learned, as a result of my often-repeated rant on the reality of evil in the world, that we don’t always agree as to what constitutes “evil.”  So let’s work together to come to some shared understanding of what constitutes “evil,” or the weeds which grow from the bad seeds in this parable.  Turn to someone near you (make sure to look for the person behind or in front of you who doesn’t seem to have a natural conversation partner) and arrive at three examples of evil; three instances where you can see the weeds growing among God’s beautiful wheat field.

 

(Pause)

 

I thought of the downing of the Malaysian airliner and the whole mess in Ukraine.

The war in Gaza; which includes the shelling of Israeli neighborhoods.

What of the human trafficking across the US-Mexican border? And the circumstances which have led to the increases in unaccompanied minors coming across.

There was a horrific murder reported in the Greenville news this past week.  A father could not bear the thought of his wife and child living without him, so he shot them both.  The little girl didn’t die immediately and he reported holding her in his arms and trying to comfort her as she asked, “When will it stop hurting?”

 

It may be difficult to arrive at a full and completely shared definition of evil precisely because we can’t agree on what caused the evil to emerge.  To use the parable’s language, the seed is in the ground, we never see it.  What we see is what emerges from the seed.  Where is the evil in Gaza?  With the death of the civilians?  Or is it the attacks of Hamas on Israel?  Or the mistreatment  of the Palestinians by Israel?

 

This is where the parable seems to have something to teach us.  The parable is not telling us something we don’t already know when it tells us that there are weeds (evil) among the wheat.  Nor is this parable’s explanation of how the weeds got here all that helpful.  The word of God which challenges us to perceive and to hear is Jesus’ instructions on what to do about those weeds.   

 

The common agricultural practice was to go into the field and pull out the weeds.  This is what we do in our garden, isn’t it?  How many days have I come to this church to find Jean Ashkew and her crews out there pulling up weeds and placing them along the curb for pick-up?  But in this parable is the master won’t allow the servants to do what is the common practice.  He tells the servants to leave the weeds alone.

 

I am going to say to you (and probably with you) that this is not an option with which I am entirely comfortable.  When I see bad seed, I tend to want to reach over and pull it out.  I put fertilizer in my garden; I don’t want the chokeberries getting the benefit of my nitrogen.  Sometimes I have to irrigate; I don’t want the briers to get a drink of water because of my efforts.  I tend to want to reach over and pull it out.  But Jesus says, “No.  Let them both grow together.”

 

There is evil (bad seed) in the world.  I would rather get rid of it.  But Jesus says to leave it alone.  “You might uproot the wheat along with the weeds,” Jesus warns.

 

Murder seems to be the simplest example of evil where plucking out the weed would be appropriate.  But I will never forget the response of Lorraine Watts, member of the congregation we served in Houghton, MI, when her daughter was raped and murdered.  When attempts to comfort her included comments of “finding the so-and-so who did this and making him pay,” Lorraine’s response as “He has a mother, too.”

 

How do you pluck out the weeds, without disrupting the wheat?

 

I am sure that I could ignite a heated narthex discussion by suggesting how to pluck the weeds in Gaza/Israel.  While we are here this morning, there are a whole host of political spokespersons telling Sunday morning news shows exactly what weeds need plucking.  But are the lines that clear and simple?

 

Everyone’s heart is with the 298 who died on that airliner.  The world’s outrage is over the downing of a passenger flight.  Those whose lives are being ripped apart might ask where is the outrage at the conflict which gave rise to the launched missile? 

 

We look for someone to blame.  We want to find the responsible one and snatch them away from the remainder of the wheat.  But it may not be that simple.  And it may not be our place to do that.

 

It may be our job to run to the Master and point out that among His beautifully established field there have emerged the growths of bad seed.  It may be our job to brush up on our identification skills and know the difference between those things that are of God, and those which are present because of the activities of an enemy.  It may mean admitting that we are never fully capable of determining who is to be removed, plucked out, cast aside.

 

This is why so many within the community of Christ’s followers remain adamantly opposed to the death penalty and to war.

 

 This parable challenges us to learn to be patient.  To trust that God will handle the bad seed, and the enemy who sows it.  We can identify it and cry out to God about it, but following the way of Jesus does not mean that we become the one who separates.

 

How I long for a field where there are no weeds.  Why can’t I be in that place where no enemy sows bad seed?  That may be preferable, and surely it is desirable; but it isn’t the place to which Jesus invites us.  Our field has wheat and weeds.  And it is not our choice what to do about it. 

 

As stated earlier, I don’t always agree with what Jesus has to say.  And sometimes I don’t really want to do what he tells me to do.  Maybe you have had a similar response.  Maybe you are having one this morning.

 

The evil in the world is not the seed planted by God.  The enemy who plants the bad seed is not our enemy – but God’s enemy.  We can name the evil for what it is, but removal is not left to us.

 

Amen.

Sunday, June 1, 2014

Sermon - Ascension of Our Lord


Ascension Day -  Year A

June 1, 2014                                                                                                                                                   

Luke    24:44-53

 

            The Ascension of Our Lord

 

 

It came to my attention that my offering in this week’s e-news might have created some confusion.  If you don’t get the e-news (you can ask to be added) or if you haven’t read it, don’t worry about finding a copy.  I am going to tell you everything I said there, this time (hopefully) with a lot more clarity and precision.

 

The confusion arose over my comments regarding visitors.  I suggested (no, I stated) that the 40 days between Easter and Ascension are NOT the season for visitors.  I suggested (I guess I sort of stated) that during these 40 days we might need to set aside our typical interest in identifying and inviting the visitor to come with us to God’s house.  These 40 days may be better spent (I hope that doesn’t create another opportunity for confusion), these 40 days may be better spent making sure that those of us who are so eager to do the welcoming are ourselves actually ready to continue with what comes after we have passed through those initial welcoming stages.

 

What comes AFTER those initial welcoming stages isn’t nearly as inviting as what comes during those first couple of years.  What comes AFTER those initial welcoming stages is a bit more difficult to comprehend than the messages offered to the general population.  What comes AFTER those initial welcoming stages doesn’t comfortably align itself with the way of the world and the world’s value systems.  What comes AFTER is not as easy.

 

Okay.  That was a bunch of teaser sentences.  Hopefully, I have gotten you interested in the whole notion of what comes “before” and what comes “after.”  Understanding the difference between “before” and “after” is the whole point of this sermon. 

 

First, look with me at your bibles, so we can understand that this isn’t simply a wild idea emerging from my brain, but is actually what the bible says.

 

The critical time is the time AFTER Jesus is resurrected from the dead.  During that period of time, there are no new persons invited to participate.  The only actors are those who had already responded to Jesus’ invitation. 

 

Turn first to the last couple of chapters of John.  Over the past couple of Sundays, we have considered these stories.  Long Gospel lessons in which Jesus comes to the disciples and shows them his hands and his side (all except Thomas).  He comes to the disciples who are together in the upper room, with the doors locked, out of fear of those who had put Jesus to death.  Fear prevented them from inviting anyone into the room whom they could not trust. 

 

 

Now turn to Luke.  In Luke we get the story of the trip to Emmaus.  Do you remember that story?  Help me retell it to those who don’t:  Two disciples have fled Jerusalem, heading to Emmaus.  As they travel, Jesus himself comes and walks with them.  But they don’t recognize him.  The travelers plan to stop, but Jesus says he is going on.  They convince him to stay with them.  At dinner, he takes the loaf of bread and breaks it, and suddenly their eyes are opened and they recognize Jesus.  They go back to tell the others, and while they are there, Jesus shows up, again.

 

There is one really sort post-resurrection appearance in Matthew.  It is a well recited one.  It contains the “Great Commission” – Go therefore and make disciples of all nations…… 

 

There is nothing – literally nothing – in the oldest versions of Mark’s gospel.  Over the centuries, two differing endings were added by differing congregations.  You can easily recognize these stories as shorter re-telling of the material found in John and/or Luke.

 

During the days between Jesus’ resurrection and his ascension, he ONLY interacts with those who had already (at least once) made it through those initial welcoming stages.

 

Here is the first significant point of what I want to share with you this morning:  It was easy the first time – to get them to follow his lead.  In one account, all he does is look at them and say, “Follow me.”  And they do it.  They got out of their boats and followed him. 

 

Nathaniel follows Jesus simply because Jesus says he saw Nathaniel standing under a fig tree.

 

It was easy the first time.  And it was fun!  It was exciting!  Jesus feeds the 5,000 with a few loaves and a couple of fish.  Jesus casts demons into a herd of swine and they go crashing down into the sea.  Jesus spits on a man and restores his sight.  And then Jesus spits in the eyes of the righteous elite by telling them that his mangy band of followers are likely to enter the Kingdom long before those with impressive titles and beautiful robes.

 

It was easy the first time.

 

But this time.  It takes a bit more convincing.

 

What comes AFTER those initial welcoming stages isn’t nearly as action packed as what comes during those first couple of years.  What comes AFTER those initial welcoming stages is a bit more difficult to comprehend than were the messages offered from a mountain top or while walking along some dusty village path.  What comes AFTER those initial welcoming stages doesn’t comfortably align itself with the way of the world and the world’s value systems.  What comes AFTER is not as easy.

 

Time for the test.  Let’s see if I have managed to clear up the confusion and explain why the events which come after Easter are reserved for those who had already (at least once) thrown their hats into the Jesus ring.  What is different now?  Why is it more of a challenge? 

 

In those initial stages of welcome, we talk about things that make good sense, about the things which (if you choose to do them) won’t really adversely affect your life and your interactions with others.  “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you”?  Hey – they teach that in every elementary classroom.  Only they don’t calling Matthew 7:12, they call it the “Golden Rule.” 

 

“Love your neighbor”, good advice for those who want to avoid senseless squabbles over where to plant a hedge row.  But we give it out as good advice, not a command, found in 1 John 4:7-8.

 

That is what Jesus and the disciples did BEFORE.  But AFTER?  You got this whole thing about some “leader” who won’t even open his mouth in defense of his own cause.  The one we want to call “Lord,” refuses to accept the loyalty of subjects willing to draw the sword on his behalf.  After, we have the improbable and impossible story of a dead man come back to life.  AND, if that isn’t enough, he leads the disciples off to some mountain top and they watch as he is taken from among them.

 

Try to sell that as something fun and exciting and commonplace.

 

You know, you understand, how different it is AFTER than it was BEFORE.

 

Jesus spends 40 days trying to convince those who had said “Yes” to him once before to say “Yes” to him once again.  This time is isn’t as easy.  It isn’t as simple.  It isn’t as safe.  It won’t allow them to dabble, to stick in their toe and test the water.  They can’t make it a side-bar to their lives, or a comfortable compliment to a well-crafted existence among their peers. 

 

I apologize to any visitors – if in ANY way I have suggested that you are not supposed to be here.  Of course, you realize it is a trick.  We listen better when we think the person talking doesn’t want us to hear what they are saying.  That is why I whisper sometimes in my sermons.  If you shout, people ignore you.  If you whisper, they think you are telling some sort of a secret – and they are all ears!!!

 

Be all ears for where I want to end this sermon. 

When Jesus is lifted up – when he ascends into heaven – he leaves this whole shebang in the hands of those who had responded the first time.  He leaves the continuation of this mission with those who at previously said, “Sure, I will follow you.”  It is left it to James and John, to Bartholomew and Matthew.  When they die out, it falls to the next generation.  Which means it eventually falls to us.

 

Let’s admit that it is a tough task.  Let’s also admit that the handing on of the faith will die soon, unless the general membership of our communities resumes the task of passing it on.  Hired preachers don’t convince others to follow.  Only committed, un-paid followers can do that.  I fear that sometimes we talk too much about the fluff and the stuff that is easy and never really get around to the parts which are likely to separate us from those who are curious from those who are committed.

 

It is the most satisfying and rewarding thing possible to move through those welcoming stages and embrace what comes AFTER.  There is nothing – nothing – which can compare to the joy and sense of self which comes with following Jesus.  But, it isn’t easy; and it isn’t simple; and it isn’t something that we can do alongside the other things that we might want to do with our lives.  That is why it only took a single glance or a one-sentence invitation the first time that Jesus asked Peter and James and John to follow him.  The second time, it took a lot more convincing.

 

And it is likely to take a lot more convincing for us, too.

 

All four of the Gospels end here.  In each there is a note that from here the disciples go out into the world, to bring the world on board.  So, next Sunday we will return to those wonderful, welcoming stories.  And I do apologize for any unintentional suggestion that visitors should stay away.  What I won’t apologize for is stating the truth.  And the truth is that to be a follower of Jesus means accepting some pretty incredible things.  It means doing some very odd things.  Before Jesus dies and rises and is ascended, it was good advice, likely to make everyone’s life more enjoyable.  AFTER – well, after is another story.

 

Amen.