Prodigal forgiveness

 Luke 15:1-3, 11b-32

 Whenever I have read this gospel story of the two sons and their prodigal father, I have tried to imagine what the mother would be saying. So, here’s my attempt to voice her thoughts and emotions. … I give thanks to Free Bible Images website for these wonderful images that tell the story of the father with two sons. 

Mom says:

My name is Esther. I have two sons, and they are as different as they can be. Samuel is the older boy and he is much like his Dad, Reuben. They both work hard to manage the land and the animals. There is a lot to do, so we also have some servants to help us, but Dad and Sam are always involved in fixing this, taking care of that, planting this crop, harvesting that one.

Eli is a dear child, but he is very different. He has a troubled spirit. Eli has struggled his whole life and he just can’t find a place for himself on our land. He thinks we are wealthy and that he is important because we have so much. He doesn’t understand yet that we have to work hard to keep what we have.

One day a few months ago, Eli went to Reuben and said he wanted to leave our land. He complained he wasn’t happy here, and he wanted to go to the city and make a name for himself. He demanded – imagine, he demanded – that we give him his share of the family wealth.

Reuben and I were stunned! We don’t have wealth in the form of spendable coin; our wealth is in the land, in the crops, in the buildings, in the animals. Rueben and I prayed and talked about it. We know Eli well, and realized he wouldn’t be happy until he learned what we do to have this land. So, we scraped together some coins; we had to sell a few animals to get it; and we gave those coins to Eli.

I cried as he walked away, so proud of himself, so sure he was going to make a lot of money on his own. And Reuben had to look away so we couldn’t see his tears. It wasn’t long before he went into the barn. He was so angry, and so sad at the same time. I prayed for him, and for us.

Reuben and I talked about Eli. You’re too soft on him, Reuben told me. You expect too much from him. He’s still young, I countered. We were both right, and we were both wrong.

As the months went by, friends told us they had seen Eli. He was at a party, with a young woman on his arm. They told us they had seen him gambling and drinking. He was losing a lot of money. 

Most recently, we heard he was working for some gentiles, feeding their pigs. Can you imagine! We raised our boys to be good Jews, and Eli is feeding pigs! Unclean! Shameful! I pray for him all day, every day.

In the meantime, Reuben and Sam are working extra hard, because there are only two of them. They are sad that Eli is gone, and still so angry that their work lasts from sun-up to sun-down and more. Reuben wants us to see the anger, of course, but I see him looking down the road, every day, hopeful, to see if Eli is coming home. He is sad, so sad. He prays, too, that Eli will come home.

I am sad, too. His place in our home is a void that never gets filled. I have to stop myself all the time from setting four places for our meals. And I, too, spend a lot of time, looking out the door to see if my little Eli is coming home.

One day, there he was! He was so sad, so fearful of coming home. I saw his mouth moving, like he was talking to himself. His clothes were rags, his feet were bare, and he smelled! Oh, he smelled like livestock, especially like swine. And I was so happy to see him. My prayers had finally been answered.

Before I could make it out of the door, I saw Reuben running down the road. I have no idea how his tired old body could run, but he was running. He had pulled up his robes to free his feet, and he was running. Then I saw him grab our son, hold him tightly to him, and hug him as if he’d never let go of him again.

I heard Eli try to speak, but Reuben spoke over him, calling to one of the servants to prepare a feast to welcome our lost boy home. Other servants prepared a bath, a ritual mikveh, for him, to help him know he was welcome and forgiven. And we gave him new clothes. We wanted him to feel like a king!

Unfortunately, Samuel was watching and became frustrated, angry, and jealous. “Mom! Dad!” he yelled at us. “Why have you never given me such a feast!? I have stayed and worked faithfully all this time, never causing you any trouble. Don’t I deserve a feast, too?”

Reuben replied gently, “Oh, my son. I am so proud of you and the way you have helped your mother and me. You have worked so hard, never causing us any trouble. Please understand that your brother needs us right now; he needs to know he is forgiven. Please help me welcome him home again. Tomorrow, we will figure out what his return means, but for today, let’s just enjoy the party.”

I watched Samuel sulk away, but later he realized he was quite hungry, and he came to join the feast. He listened to his brother tell the stories of how he lost his money, and then, almost lost his soul. Samuel told us how, deep inside himself, he knew we were praying for him. He knew he could at least get a meal and a job with the servants. And he knew he hated feeding pigs! So, he decided it was time to come home and ask for forgiveness.

I am weeping with joy as I tell this story, I’m so happy to see my Eli again.

… This parable is often called the Prodigal Son. The word prodigal means wastefully extravagant. The son wasted his fortune.  The word prodigal can also apply to the father, as he forgave the younger son and welcomed him home with extravagant displays of love and forgiveness. I believe it also applies to the mother, even though Jesus didn’t include her in the story.

We all know brokenness. I have rarely met a family that didn’t have a history or a present experience of brokenness. And I know those same families would welcome home the lost person, the lost family. While it might take some time to heal, they would begin the process of reconciliation with asking for forgiveness, and giving it, maybe grudgingly at first, but eventually wholeheartedly.

Isn’t it wonderful to know that with God, there is no grudgingly – that the forgiveness we receive comes even before we ask for it? All we have to do is turn our faces toward home, toward God, and there it is, a welcome home, a hug, drawing us to our feet, and telling all to prepare the feast, because we have come back to God at last. Amen

Who sinned, and what should we do about it?

Isaiah 55:1-9; 1 Corinthians 10:1-13; Luke 13:1-9

… Today, we get the news in at least a dozen different ways. When an airplane and a helicopter collided at Reagan Airport, it seems the whole world knew about it in seconds. Of course, the people at the airport knew, but within seconds, it was on the TV news, cable news, on Facebook, X, and Instagram, and it was texted and shared between friends. And already, as soon as the news was out, people wanted to know who messed up, who was at fault.

People were sharing the bad news with Jesus. Roman soldiers had killed some Galileans and mingled the victims’ blood with blood from sacrificial animals. The Jews were appalled at this sacrilege. Others reported that a tower fell on a bunch of people and killed them. Everyone wanted to know if those who died in these circumstances were sinners, and if their sin caused these tragedies. Jesus replies, “they were no more sinful than you are. And you all need to repent, or you will perish just as those folks did.

“However, let me tell you a story. There was a man with a vineyard, who decided he wanted some figs, too. But, year after year, the tree had no figs on it. He told the gardener to cut it down, to get rid of it. But the gardener asked the man to wait a year. He would pay some special attention to the fig tree and then, in a year, if there were still no figs, he would happily remove it.”

… We all want to hold people accountable. We want to know that the money we are paying for a particular item or service is worth the expense. We want to know that the people we hire are doing their job well. We want to know that people who break the law are duly punished, with a fine or jail time. We especially want to know that God will punish people who disobey the 10 Commandments. And we want to know that God knows that we didn’t disobey them.

This attitude is not new. The belief in ancient times is that sin causes bad things to happen. Sin is passed on from generation to generation. You are poor because someone in your ancestry sinned. You are deaf or have a skin disease because one of your ancestors sinned.

At the same time, the 10 Commandments are taken literally. I worship weekly, I haven’t said God’s name, I respect my elders, I haven’t stolen, I don’t covet my neighbor’s maid. So I am not a sinner.

… Jesus disagrees. In other stories, Jesus clarifies the meaning of obedience to the commandments: visiting the sick or imprisoned; feeding the hungry, and so forth. In other words, loving the neighbor as much as you love yourself. Since we can never do this perfectly, we are all sinners, and we need to repent. And then, there is grace, the grace of second or third or thirtieth chances to repent and be forgiven.

Let’s not think that this belief that our individual behaviors cause bad things to happen is ancient, and we are not guilty of it today. The belief that some group or other is sinful and causes bad things to happen pervades our world. People talk about whatever happened: men caused it; women caused it; gay people caused it; people of color caused it; the Democrats caused it; the Republicans caused it; the immigrants caused it; etc. It’s easy to blame others and not take responsibility for ourselves.

…We are sinful people. And we are forgiven, God-graced people. God seeks every possible opportunity to dig around in our hearts to soften them, fertilize us with some nutritious love and forgiveness, and water us with extra chances to turn to God and ask for forgiveness.

Isaiah tells us what grace is like: all the bread and wine and milk you can eat and drink for free. A covenant relationship that has lasted for centuries, available free for the asking. God’s grace is free forgiveness, ours for the asking.

But sometimes, we are reluctant to ask for forgiveness because we don’t think we have done anything wrong. We claim we don’t need forgiveness or grace. We may be like the people Paul is writing about. He reminds his readers about the folks with Moses in the wilderness who were not obeying God’s commandments. Be careful that you are not similarly sinful.

… I once heard a presentation by Timothy Wengert, the author of a recent translation of Luther’s Small Catechism. He says we often imagine that we are on a ladder. There may be some people who are less sinful than we are, and they are on the top step of a ladder; we are somewhat sinful, and on the middle step of the ladder; and then there are some people who are more sinful than we are, who are on the ground or perhaps the first step.

But, Wengert says, in truth, we are all on the ground, each of us as sinful as the next person. We are all sinners, none of us more or less sinful than anyone else, all of us in need of repentance and forgiveness.

… Today, we remember that God is faithful and merciful, present with us even when we are struggling through hard times. And we remember that God is with us through the compassion shown by people, with a hug, a casserole, a bottle of water, a loving word, a message of forgiveness.

Let’s be kind to ourselves, and to everyone else, because we are no more or less sinful than they are. And we are all granted God’s gift of grace, even if we don’t think we deserve it.

As usual, I suggest you probably have a story to tell. I’d love to hear it. Amen

 

More than just ruffling feathers

Genesis 15:1-12, 17-18; Philippians 3:17 - 4:1; Luke 13:31-35

God makes several promises to Abram / Abraham over the years. “Don’t worry, I still plan for you to have descendants and land and fame. I’m just waiting for the timing to be right. … I’ll tell you what, let’s do a ritual of commitment. Take some animals … etc, etc.”

From then on, that land was considered a legacy, a promise that can’t be broken. The land we call Israel today is viewed through this promise. It was that way when Jesus walked the land, too.

…The city of Jerusalem, especially, held that promise and the history of how that promise was lived out for centuries. But it was a troubled history. Some of the kings were faithful to God, but many weren’t. The city had been destroyed and rebuilt. It was currently controlled by the Caesar’s designated leader Pontius Pilate, and the puppet king Herod Antipas. Herod’s father had tried to kill Jesus as a baby, and this Herod was just as protective of his kingly power.

Jesus has been teaching and preaching and demonstrating that the way the leaders have been treating many people badly. Jesus insists that God loves and forgives all people and that it is against God’s will to disrespect people with disabilities, people with contagious diseases, people who are foreign, or people who worship God differently.

The crowds around Jesus continue to grow. The leaders are growing more wary of the power Jesus has over the crowds. And Jesus is growing bolder in his protests against the control the leaders have over the people.

In Lent, we read stories of how Jesus pokes the bear – or in this case, the fox – to accomplish his goals. The Pharisees are not Jesus’ friends, but at this point, it seems they are not trying to do away with him. “Be careful, Jesus. Herod is talking about killing you!”

Jesus’ response is anything but fearful. He throws the challenge right back. “Tell that old fox that today I am busy casting out demons, but tomorrow I am headed to Jerusalem because it’s impossible for a prophet to be killed outside Jerusalem.” It seems Jesus is daring Herod to kill him.

Today, we might say Jesus is speaking truth to power. Jesus is challenging Herod to do something about what he is saying and doing. Jesus is challenging the status quo, challenging Herod’s power and authority to grow wealthy at the expense of the faithful and powerless people of Israel. Jesus is saying that the power and authority Herod and other leaders claim for themselves rightly belongs to God, and only to God.

We know, of course, what happened to Jesus. The powers-that-be in Jerusalem put him to death. In the years that followed, Jesus’ followers continued to stand up to the powers of whatever land they lived in. And they were often martyred, killed, for their faith in Jesus.

… Paul admits he began persecuting believers and is still ashamed of that part of his history. Now, he encourages believers to stand fast in their faith, no matter what happens to them. At first, it was only the Jewish leaders who persecuted the Christians, but it wasn’t long before the Roman leaders were also on the lookout for Christians.

This is what the book of Revelation is about. When Christians stopped buying meat at Roman markets because the meat was dedicated to Roman gods, it made a difference in the economy. Neighbors turned them in, and in many cases the Christians were whipped, imprisoned, and sent to the arenas to be eaten by lions. In the end, the persecutions ended and Christianity became legal, and eventually the dominant faith tradition.

… In the US, our risk of being sent to the lions today is quite limited, but we still have opportunities to be persecuted for our faith. The partisan divide in our country is based in part on different religious beliefs: are all welcome in Jesus’ church, or are certain people too unclean to be welcome? Have we forgotten God’s command to care for the widow, the orphan, and the foreigner in our midst?

Other aspects of the divide have us questioning how to take care of people’s needs while balancing the national and state budget. As followers of Jesus, it should trouble us that many of the cuts in the national budget target relief to the poorest people, like access to fresh vegetables, medical care, child care, and transportation. As followers of Jesus, it should trouble us that wealthy people legally pay a smaller proportion of their income than middle class people do.

… We often hesitate to speak up because we don’t want to ruffle feathers, or have people think badly of us. But as followers of Jesus, are we not called to speak up as he did? Should we not risk offending the fox with our expressions of welcome and concern for all?

I hope Gloria Dei is a congregation that can have conversations about these questions and seek ways to reach out to:

1.      1.  Those who are being persecuted, and

2.      2. Those who are suffering because of budget cuts.

Can Gloria Dei be a place where all opinions are welcome, and at the same time, all people are welcome? Can Gloria Dei be a congregation which seeks new ways to serve those in need?

I hope so. Let’s talk about it. Amen

 

Test and trust

Deuteronomy 26:1-11; Psalm 91:1-2, 9-16; Romans 10:8b-13; Luke 4:1-13

I am always fascinated by words and their meaning. Especially for Bible study, I pay attention to the meaning behind the words, because that’s how we interpret the passage we are studying. In today’s Gospel reading, some Bibles say Jesus was tempted, while others say he was tested.

What’s the difference? We may be tempted, while others put a test before us to see if we will pass it. In Scripture, a famous test was set up in Job. One day, some heavenly beings approached God and said, “Job is so perfect, you must have done something to protect him.” One of them, the accuser, called ha-satan the satan, says, “I think I can make him curse you.” And for 40 chapters, the accuser tries to make Job curse God. Job loses everything – family, house, livestock, everything, and he never curses God. The accuser sets up the test, to see if Job is tempted.

… We can read this passage in Luke, and in Matthew and Mark, the same way. The accuser sets up a test to see if Jesus will be tempted to choose the easy way, to self-gratification, or if he will follow God’s plan. By now, the satan in Job’s story is called the devil. The devil’s identity and role has shifted. He is no longer a heavenly being offering a challenge, but an evil being trying to get its own way.  

However, Jesus is not alone. Jesus has just been baptized, filled with the Holy Spirit and the Spirit goes with him into the wilderness. I imagine that the Spirit is a presence in the wilderness, but that Jesus, in his human form, must pass this test on his own. Otherwise, God’s experiment of becoming human fails as badly as an exploding SpaceX rocket.

Jesus is God, but he must live his life on earth as a human would. He feels pain and hunger and anger and joy just as any human does. Here in the wilderness, God allows the devil to put Jesus to the test. Can he resist the temptation to use his divine power to feed himself when he is hungry? Can he resist the temptation to claim all the power for himself, and abandon his connection to the divine? Can he resist the temptation to put his own life at risk, to prove he has divine powers?

In my opinion, this test wasn’t a one-off event where Jesus fasts for a week and then has to pass the hunger test; then in a couple weeks, he has to pass the power test; and after 35 days he has to pass the risky adventure test. No, I think this was a group of tests put before him every day, maybe all of them at once, or only one or two at a time. The devil kept at Jesus, time after time after time, to see if he would remain faithful to God’s purpose.

And I imagine that at times, in moments of weakness, Jesus was indeed tempted to give in. His human body needed food; his human ego wanted satisfaction. But, each time he was tempted, he recalled a passage from Scripture to resist the temptation.  In the end, after 40 days, the devil’s tests ended. But the devil would return, again and again. 

… We, too, can face tests, or are they temptations?! that are hard to resist. Last Wednesday, we named many of the ways in which we fail to live up to being perfect. We are sinners. Mostly, I think it can be hard to identify our sins. It’s Sunday and we are here in church. We try to not say God’s name in wrong ways. We don’t steal, or even think about it. We are faithful in our marriages. We tell the truth to our families, or as much truth as we think our families need to know. If we notice something our neighbor has and decide we want it, too, we go out and buy our own.

It’s the trickier stuff that catches us up. It’s the commandment about telling the truth and not telling lies about our neighbors that catches us most often these days. In this time of political divisiveness, it’s hard to think kind thoughts about some people. And it’s tempting to think and say bad stuff about THOSE folks. It’s even harder to pray for them.

This, perhaps, is the devil’s test for us today. How much hatred and disconnection can be caused by this divisiveness in the US, and around the world?

We are scared about the future, about our country, the economy, the world, our near and distant neighbors. We want a better world for ourselves and for those we love, and we disagree with each other on how best to make that happen.

It seems at times that we are so busy shouting answers and accusations at each other that there is no way to listen to what they have to say, much less what God might have to say about it. Let’s listen: What is God saying to the leaders and citizens of our nation? To the leaders and citizens of nations around the world? What is God saying to our local leaders about local concerns? 

Jesus has an answer for all these worries and concerns. Love God. Love others. “Oh, Jesus,” we want to say, “Do we have to?!”   

When conditions are such a muddle as we have today, it’s tempting to think we need to resolve the problems ourselves. We forget that God has been in the business of resolving problems for thousands of years. And the way to resolve them is to step back and trust God.

… There is evil in the world, and we all add to it with our response to it. When we think and say unkind things about others, it adds to the evil. Jesus called on God’s Holy Spirit to help him resist the tests the devil put before him:  Depend on God. Trust God and God’s plan.

My article in the Glorion, the church newsletter, suggested that we consider fasting from anxiety as one of our Lenten disciplines. What if we looked for positive ways to make necessary changes to combat evil? What if we spent more time looking for good news and sharing it than we spend denigrating each other and the other’s ideas? What if we passed along God’s love instead of the latest news about what some political leader or next door neighbor said or did to annoy us today? What if we looked every day for ways to trust God and love like Jesus? Amen

 

We Are Sinners, Mortals, Forgiven

 Joel 2:1-2, 12-17; Psalm 51:1-17; 2 Corinthians 5:20b—6:10; Matthew 6:1-6, 16-21

Today, the liturgy forces us to tell the truth about ourselves. Three things are very clear. We are sinners; we are mortal;  and we are forgiven.

In a few minutes, we will confess all the ways in which we are not perfect, the ways we sin. We are sinners.

We have two memorial services this week, during which we say goodbye for now to members of our Gloria Dei community. Gladys and Dale are now dust and ashes. Someday, we, too, will be dust and ashes. We are mortal.

And we are forgiven. As believers in Jesus, we seek a relationship with God, not out of fear of the consequences of sin, but rather knowing we are beloved children of a merciful God. We are forgiven. In other words, we are human.

… We are sinful. Sin is a broken relationship with God. Our texts for today tell us so. Psalm 51 is thought to have been written by King David after he got caught impregnating Bathsheba and making sure her husband Uriah died in the front lines of the latest battle. He realizes he is guilty, sinful, and expresses his repentance. “I’m sorry, deeply sorry. Please wash me and make me clean.”

Paul is worried about what Friedrich Bonhoeffer called cheap grace. Jesus died to demonstrate that our sins have been forgiven. This is called mercy, grace, and it came at a costly price – the life of Jesus of Nazareth, who is also the Son of the Most High God.

Joel does not speak so much about sin as the need for the whole people – all of y’all – to lament and pray for relief. There has been a plague of locusts devastating the land, the economy, and the well-being of the people. Joel calls on all to weep and mourn and fast to call on God to come to help them.  

Jesus pulls all these ideas together. Yes, there is a time and a need for repentance, but don’t make a show about it. Yes, fasting helps us focus on God instead of on what we will eat; but no one else needs to know about it. Yes, giving alms to charity is a good thing, but no one else should know how much or to whom you give. It is sinful to confess, fast, pray, give as a show. It’s called hypocrisy.

In all these ways: sexual assault, murder, hypocrisy, wanting more power and stuff than is fair, we are sinners.  

 … We are mortal. Our liturgy tells us this, too. Each year on this day, pastors and others around the world tell their people, and themselves, that we are mortal, that we will all die. It’s always a wrench for me to tell you all that you will die someday. It may be tonight, it might be in 10 or 30 years. But you will all die, and if I am your pastor when you do, I will be leading worship at your memorial service.

When you think of your own life, do you consider your death? Most likely, those of us over 65 know our lives are more than half over. We have fewer days ahead of us than behind us. When I talk with folks of any age about death, the wish is to die peacefully in their sleep, or maybe a fatal stroke or heart attack. The idea of a lingering, painful illness is not at the top of the list as a way to die. But, we all know we don’t really get to choose how or when we die.

… We are forgiven. Our liturgy reminds us of this each time we share holy communion and eat and drink the elements of grace. Paul writes that we are reconciled with God, we are righteous in God’s eyes. God offers us mercy and grace. All we have to do is accept it.

Jesus came to tell us how much God loves us and wants to have a relationship with us. As easily as most human parents forgive their children, so easily God forgives us. If our sins were written on a chalkboard, Jesus takes an eraser and wipes then all away. We are forgiven.

… The truth is, as Ash Wednesday reminds us every year, we are sinners and we are mortal and we are forgiven. And it’s a perfect time to pay attention to our relationship with God. Do we pray often enough that we know God’s purposes for our lives? Do we give enough to make us feel good about our giving? Do we confess our sins and ask for forgiveness?

And do we trust God enough to know God is merciful and slow to anger, abounding in steadfast love?

Do we trust that God may just respond to our pleas for help?

Let’s use this season of Lent to raise our awareness of God’s mercy and grace, so we feel safe enough to confess and ask for forgiveness.

On this day, we remember that we are sinners, we are mortal, and we are forgiven.

As a reminder of that forgiveness, you could stop at the font on your way out of church today, and wash away your ashes. There are towels available if you wish. 

Amen 

Stories ofForgiveness

Genesis 45:3-11, 15; Luke 6:27-38

Jesus says several times that we should pray for our enemies; love our enemies; love those who persecute us; and so forth. It seems like it gets harder and harder to do that every day. In the US, people are more polarized than ever, and the polarization puts a greater than ever divide between and among us.

What is our response? Just what Jesus told us to do. Pray for and love all, even those with whom we disagree, even those who are trying to do us harm.

The Jewish people Jesus encounters in his travels around Galilee and greater Judea should know this already. For centuries, the Jewish people have known the stories in Genesis and Exodus, and all of Torah, and the encouragements and challenges of the Prophets. So, all Jews should have been familiar with the story of Joseph, son of Jacob. But, they certainly are not living out what it teaches.

… Our Lectionary gives us only the final dramatic moments of a story that lasts 13 chapters, about 12 pages in my paper Bible. So, let’s do a quick review of the Joseph story.

Joseph is the 11^th son of Jacob, and the first son of Jacob’s favorite wife, Rachel. As a sign of his favor, Jacob has given Joseph a special garment. Joseph is gifted with the ability to have and interpret dreams. Fortunately or unfortunately, in some of the dreams, Joseph has authority over his brothers. And he tells his family about the dreams.

It seems Joseph says, “Nyah, nyah, nyah,” to his brothers one too many times, and they retaliate by selling him to traveling Midianites, who traded him to Ishmaelites, who took him to Egypt. The brothers tell their father that Joseph is dead, and life goes on in the household.

Meanwhile, in Egypt, Joseph has various adventures and misadventures. Near the end of the story, he is second only to the Pharaoh in power and influence. The brothers arrive in Egypt seeking food during a famine. Joseph recognizes them, but doesn’t reveal himself to them. With a few more adventures and misadventures, the family is reunited, and Joseph reveals himself to them all.

This is the scene we have in today’s reading from Genesis. Although the brothers fear that Joseph will quickly throw them into prison, it turns out that Joseph weeps with joy at seeing his brothers once again. “What you did was evil, but God made it all right.” It’s a sort of truth and reconciliation moment. You all did evil things to me. But I forgive you.

Joseph forgives his brothers in spite of the fact that they tried to kill him, and did sell him into slavery. I might have found it hard to forgive, if that had been my brother!

As we read the story of Joseph in the Bible, we don’t see the active hand or voice of God, except here, where Joseph acknowledges that God has made good things come out of the bad situations Joseph found himself in.

… Do we trust God enough to believe that God’s purposes will be fulfilled, even though it will take longer than we hope or dream? Do we trust God, no matter how hard – or good – things seem to be today? Do we trust God to help heal our hearts and help us forgive those who have hurt us? Do we allow God to guide our conversations with or about people we have trouble loving?

The congregation council and a few other leaders spent 24 hours together learning about each other by telling stories. No, not tall tales, but true stories that became conversations, that built trust, so it will be easier in the future to make decisions together. Will they always agree? Of course not, but hopefully, it will be easier to come to a consensus.

That is one purpose of a retreat where we told a lot of personal stories. In our storytelling, my story led to your story to the telling of another and another story. The main purpose was to make connections between our various stories, that we have a lot in common, despite our apparent differences.  

When we realize we have faith stories, and begin to tell them, we notice God’s activity in more places in our lives than we ever dreamed of. They may not get written down and shared for centuries, like Joseph’s story, but they guide us into the future. Our past experiences with forgiveness, to use today’s example, can give us a basis for trusting God to help us forgive when it becomes hard to do so.

… So, a story. I was on internship and became good friends with Linda and her husband Griff. They often invited me to be part of their family meals. One day, Linda was quite upset. Her baptismal sponsors, her Godparents, always remembered her baptismal birthday. For 50 years, they had never missed it, but this year, they did. The reliable presence of her godparents was an essential part of her faith story, and this year, the story had a hole in it. And I don’t recall Linda telling me how the hole was filled, but I do know she continued loving her Godparents, even though they had missed this important day in her life. Probably, she forgave them!

… This week I encourage you to think about all the places and times when you have felt or known God was present. Tell someone else the story. Amen

 

Blessings and warnings!

Luke 6:17-26

It’s such an old phrase: “Oh, woe is me!” It’s an expression of self-pity. It may be deserved, or it may be an exaggeration. I once rode in a car for half an hour with a woman complaining about her bowel problems. Now, she had a right to complain, to say “Oh, woe is me!”, but so did I and our travelling companions by the time we arrived!

This is not quite what Jesus means in today’s gospel reading when he talks about the blessings and woes of following God – or not following God.

… Scholars have discovered a place along the lakeshore where Jesus probably spoke. It’s called Cove of the Sower, where someone standing on the shore can be heard by thousands of people. This text is the closing portion of Jesus’ Sermon on the Plain, Luke’s version of Matthew’s Sermon on the Mount.

If we pay attention, we note some differences between Luke’s Beatitudes and Matthew’s. Luke’s phrasing is blunt, earthy, not at all spiritual.

Jesus says, Blessed are the poor, not Blessed are the poor in spirit.

Jesus says, Blessed are the hungry, not Blessed are those who hunger for righteousness.

And so forth. This is so much in keeping with Luke’s theme of social reversal expressed in Isaiah, in Jesus’ first sermon, and in Mary’s Magnificat. Those who are in need hear good news. And those who have plenty, and refuse to share their wealth, hear a warning.

It’s interesting that Jesus has been preaching on the level plain near the sea. Moses spoke from the mountain. In Matthew, Jesus preaches from the side of a tall hill, called the mount. When Jesus speaks on the plain, he indicates he is equal to the people he is speaking to, not above them. Jesus speaks with his listeners, as one of them. And as one of us, today. Jesus hears us when we speak.

… And we feel heard, and comforted, assured that all will be well. But then, Jesus has to add this:  “Blessed are you when people hate you and when they exclude you, revile you, and defame you on account of the Son of Man. Rejoice on that day and leap for joy, for surely your reward is great in heaven, for that is how their ancestors treated the prophets.”  

What are you talking about, Jesus? I don’t think it’s so great to be put in jail or prison or worse for speaking the truth, for speaking out against injustice. That seems like a punishment, not a blessing. But for Jesus, it’s a high honor. It pleases God that our faith is so strong we put our livelihood and freedom and life itself at risk for the sake of the poor, hungry, and oppressed.

This is what Jesus did, and others have followed. We know that Jesus died because he spoke up against the leaders and rulers of the day. He spoke against injustice and cruelty. He was arrested, tried, crucified by the Romans, at the instigation of some Jewish leaders. But then he was raised from death to rejoin God. It’s this resurrection that Jesus tells us is the reward for trusting in him, for being excluded, and reviled, and defamed in our time on earth. 

It’s pleasing  to God when we live as God calls us to live … loving all, reviling none, helping to ensure the hungry are fed, the poor have what they need, and the oppressed are set free.

… The earliest disciples were passionate about following Jesus, learning what it meant that God was stronger than death, teaching the compassion Jesus showed them to all who would listen. Their message was just as offensive to some as Jesus’ message. And the result was anticipated. According to Scripture and legend, all but one of the apostles died for speaking up for the oppressed as Jesus had. Only John is believed to have died of old age, after surviving the torture of boiling water.

As persecution arose in various places over the next 250 years, many chose to be martyred as proof of their faith. Stephen was the first known Christian martyr. He was stoned to death for his belief in Jesus. Perpetua gave up her infant child to her father so she could be martyred for her faith in Jesus.
It’s hard for us to imagine getting killed for our faith in Jesus, but it still happens today. And those who choose this risk are joy-filled at the opportunity to express their strong faith in Jesus.

… February is African American History Month.

I’ve always been fascinated by Harriet Tubman. She not only escaped slavery and made it successfully to Pennsylvania, a “free state” but she kept returning to free more slaves. She made 13 trips into Maryland, which was a “slave state” and rescued 70 enslaved people.

Attached to the Union Army, her intelligence-gathering missions provided crucial information about Confederate troop movements, ammunition depots, and supply lines, which led to strategic Union victories. Notably, Tubman led armed raids which resulted in freedom for over 750 enslaved people and disrupted Confederate resources. Last November, Maryland Governor Wes Moore honored her by giving her the rank of One Star Brigadier General.

Harriet was a woman of strong faith, led by God to risk her life again and again for the sake of her family and others who wanted freedom from slavery. Here is one of her quotes: “I looked at my hands to see if I was the same person now I was free. There was such glory over everything. The sun came up like gold through the trees and I felt like I was in heaven.”

… When we return to consider the blessings and woes or warnings of Jesus, and how we do or don’t live them out, we can feel challenged. There is no way I want to be a martyr for my belief in Jesus. Or even go to jail overnight. I appreciate creature comforts too much.

The good news is that though Jesus issues these blessings and warnings, he understands that we are not only blessed or only warned. We are, as Luther said, both/and. We are both sinful and forgiven. We give God joy in the way we take care of the needy – note the assumption that we are those who have – and seek justice for all. We cause God pain in the way we ignore those who are in need, and refuse to share what we have, and don’t seek justice for the oppressed.

This week, I hope we all pay attention to the way we pay attention to the needy and oppressed. Does Jesus see us as blessed, or is he warning us? Amen