Plan B?

 

Matthew 15:[10-20] 21-28

Just because I am not preaching from a pulpit right now doesn’t mean I am not pondering the texts each week. The Gospel for August 16 always makes me cheer for the Canaanite woman. Often, the story that precedes this story is omitted, since it is an option. But let’s include it, because there is a fascinating correlation between the two stories.

 In the first story, Jesus and the disciples discuss what defiles a person, what makes a person unrighteous in God’s eyes, according to the rules currently in use.

Apparently, the Pharisees had criticized the disciples for eating with unwashed hands. Perhaps, they are sitting outside at a “picnic” and had no way to wash. Perhaps they were inside – which means they had washed their hands at the same time as they washed the soil of the street off their feet. And the issue was really that they didn’t use the ritual finger bowls before eating.

Jesus makes it clear that it is not what goes into a person but what comes out of them. What comes out of a person comes from their heart, or their guts, and sometimes that defiles them. So, the lack of finger bowls does not defile them.

Then the next story is about what comes out of the mouth of a non-Jewish woman. She begs Jesus to heal her daughter. Jesus claims it is not the right time for Gentiles to benefit from God’s healing. She, a foreign woman, begs him again. Perhaps she is face down in the dirt, pleading. But when Jesus calls her a dog, a cur, she stands up with fire in her eyes and gives Jesus her response: But even the dogs eat the crumbs under the table.

Her words prove to Jesus that, sometimes, his plan needs some adjustment, because the words from a foreigner’s mouth are worthy of his attention.  Whether Jesus was thinking of tradition, or has in mind a plan of how his mission will unfold, he has been caught thinking like a human. He has limited the plan to Jews. This foreign woman has challenged his assumptions.

What’s the lesson for us? That it’s easy to get caught up in limiting thinking. We make plans and try to stick to the plans. And sometimes, we need to broaden our thinking. We need to make exceptions. We need to revise our plans. Sometimes, we need to pay attention to the movement of God’s Holy Spirit.

As soon as he figured this out, Jesus was gracious to the woman, and healed her daughter. And he went farther, he praised the woman for her great faith.

I hope we will all remember that sometimes, we need to heed the movement of the Holy Spirit, and revise our plans and expectations.  

Sacred Ground

 

2026 07 19 Sermon for First Presbyterian, Inverness

Genesis 28:10-19a; Psalm 139:1-12, 23-24; Romans 8:12-25; Matthew 13:24-30, 36-43

 Let’s begin with a question: what, for you, is sacred ground? Last weekend I was in central Ohio at Emanuel Lutheran Church, a beautiful old building in downtown Marion, a block away from the equally old and beautiful Presbyterian Church. But it was not the building that made the ground sacred, it was the folks I was with. It was the annual meeting of the Order of Lutheran Franciscans and the time we spent together made it holy ground for us. 

A place is called sacred because we have an encounter with God there. We could have been at Liberty Park or Stumpknockers here in Inverness, it still would have been holy ground for us.  You see, it’s not necessarily the location but an event or moment that makes a location sacred. It’s a place where we believe we have had an encounter with the Divine.

But, even with that understanding, we are forgetting something.  In Genesis 1, the author describes the beginning of every thing, and God calls it good. In other words, everything touched by God is sacred. It’s us people who tend to limit the holy to our own understanding and preferences. Still, we also like to identify some moments as especially sacred, and we often mark that place or moment with a marker of some kind.

In the reading from Genesis, Jacob has a dream or vision of angels ascending and descending a ladder that connects earth and heaven. He sets up a stone to mark the spot as sacred ground, because this is a place where God is. Scholars debate how big the stone was. “Was it bigger than a bread box?”, for example. It must have been large enough to be located again. Who wouldn’t want to return to such holy, sacred ground?

Today, we have a fuller understanding. We call the lands of Israel and Palatine and Egypt the Holy Lands. The land, ha-Aretz in Hebrew, al-Quds in Arabic, is holy, sacred ground. Never mind that peoples have fought for control of it since biblical times, it is sacred to Jews, Christians, and Muslims, because it was given to the people of God, by God, thousands of years ago.

In the Gospel reading, Jesus tells a puzzling story. It seems fairly simple to us: seeds are planted, crops grow, and there are weeds among the wheat! But pulling the weeds out while the wheat is still growing will uproot the wheat as well. So, it’s best to wait until harvest time to do the separation; by then it will be easier to see the difference and separate them. Then the weeds should be harvested first, bundled and burned, with the wheat gathered into the barn. Actually, today, we spread weed killer while the weeds are still small.

The disciples ask Jesus to explain this parable. There is lots of scholarly speculation about whether this explanation came from Jesus, because he usually doesn’t explain parables. But, it’s in the text we have, so we accept it and deal with it. The explanation is an allegory, assigning a category to each element in the parable, and separating the good elements from the evil elements, people who do good from people who do evil.

The Jews of Jesus’ time paid special attention to the labeling of people as in or out of favor with God. This radical acceptance of weeds among the wheat must have sent the disciples’ brains spinning. What do you mean, to let them stay? Don’t the weeds contaminate the wheat? Won’t the Gentiles spoil the righteousness of the Jews, and ruin us all forever?

I notice in this parable and its explanation is that the judging is done at the harvest time, at the end time, whenever that is, and that the harvesters are angels – which means they are messengers of God – and it is Jesus who will do the judging.  

And what I notice about Jesus the judge is that he welcomes many people that others would call unwelcome. So, perhaps, there will be some weeds among the wheat in Jesus’ barn. I am reminded of a quote I heard a long time ago. Weeds are plants we haven’t found a good use for, yet. So, even if the wheat could be considered sacred and the weeds not sacred, it’s not up to us to do the labeling.

Paul gives us some further instruction, I think, in what is sacred ground. We are all God’s children, and rendered sacred by virtue of the Holy Spirit dwelling within us. Our experience in the world may be easy or challenging. It may appear to others that we don’t know God, or that God doesn’t know us. But it is only in the sorting at the end of the age, or the end of our own days on earth, that we may be labeled wheat or weed, good fruit or not. But we know, because God has said so, that we are God’s beloved children, destined for salvation, for being made whole, holy, sacred.

Psalm 139 is my favorite psalm. Whenever I read it, I am assured, reassured actually, that I am never alone. God is always with me, even if I don’t want God watching me. There is no way to escape God. And indeed, why would I want to!? Do I feel weedy sometimes, and wish God didn’t see that? Sure! But the psalmist assures us that there is no place we can go that God is not present. God’s presence with us makes everywhere we are sacred ground. So, God sees my weedy moments and remembers that I am God’s own child, and therefore not a weed.

Our nation, and the whole world, is at odds with one another. Wars erupt. Politicians won’t work together to pass legislation. This is also true in circles much smaller than national and local politics. It happens in congregations, and in families. We find it harder and harder to have a pleasant conversation. We decry one another’s beliefs and activities, and we refuse to consider the opinions of the other as valuable. It’s too easy to label people as weeds or wheat.

What’s the antidote: to remember that everyone lives on what they consider sacred ground. And to remember that God considers each person a beloved child, filled with God’s Spirit, and to treat even those we mistrust as God’s children. Amen

Parenthood

 For First Presbyterian, Inverness, FL

Genesis 21:8-21; Romans 6:1b-11; Matthew 10:24-39

I want to begin with Genesis 12: Now the Lord said to Abram, “Go from your country and your kindred and your father’s house to the land that I will show you. ² I will make of you a great nation, and I will bless you and make your name great, so that you will be a blessing. ³ I will bless those who bless you, and the one who curses you I will curse, and in you all the families of the earth shall be blessed.”

This promise influences the entire Bible, the stories of all the characters who live in relationship with God, from Abraham to Moses to David to Isaiah to Jesus and Peter and Mary Magdalene, and to us today.

Some of today’s readings tell stunning stories. The story from Genesis sounds like a soap opera: Sarah can’t conceive so she has her husband Abraham sleep with her best friend, Hagar. Today, we call this surrogacy, and the process is done in a lab, but 4,000 years ago direct interaction was the only way.  

The soap opera continues: When baby Ishmael is born, Hagar lives in an apartment over the garage, so she can be close to her son and see him often.  Maybe she even provides childcare for Ishmael. And that works until Sarah herself finally gives birth to her own child, Isaac. Then Sarah forces Hagar to leave with Ishmael. Abraham gives Hagar some money, but it runs out too soon, and she and the baby are living in a shelter for homeless families a few hundred miles away.

The Bible story puts the blame on Sarah’s jealousy, her fear that Ishmael was Abraham’s favorite son. It doesn’t tell us how long this controversy in the family lasted. I suspect it was months, or longer. And it doesn’t tell us how Abraham felt about having to send his first-born son away, other than providing what he could to Hagar and Ishmael as they left.

In the world of soap operas, Hagar would either be gone, a lesser cast member fired because her storyline ran out, or her storyline would continue to occasionally interact with Sarah and the new baby. It’s unlikely that the soap opera storyline would include an appearance of God bringing the assurance that Ishmael would be as blessed as Isaac.

However, in the world of the Bible, as Hagar struggles to find food and water for herself and her child, God appears, and gives her a promise almost identical to the one given to Abraham years earlier. “I will make a great nation of him.” In another retelling of this story in Genesis 16, it’s even closer to the one for Abram.

The half-brothers are never close, but apparently keep in touch because both Isaac and Ishmael are at the burial of Father Abraham. And today, this story is remembered as the faith foundation story for the Muslims. The three generations of Abraham, Ishmael, and Nebaioth parallel the Jewish stories of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.

Fast-forward about 2,000 years to Jesus talking with his disciples. “I want to warn you,” he says, “that it will not be easy to follow me. There will be conflict. There will be broken families. You have to put following me above everything in your life. But I promise you that I will care for you even more than I care for the sparrows.”

 And Jesus gets even more specific: husbands and wives will be set against each other; siblings won’t agree with each other; and even parent-child relationships will be torn apart. All because some will believe in Jesus and follow his way, and others will insist that Jesus blasphemes. It’s a wonder families survived at all, because what Jesus predicted was true.

Still, Jesus promises that there will be blessings in following him. By the time of Moses and the prophets, the promise originally given to Abraham had been adapted: “I will be your God and you will be my people.” It’s the promise of a loving, everlasting relationship, expressed in many metaphors.

God is the king, who reigns benevolently over the people. God is the good shepherd, who guides and guards the sheep. God is the mother bear, who protects her cubs from danger. And God is our Father, much better than any human parent. Jesus teaches us, in other parts of the gospels, what it means for God to be our father. God is not a distant mountain but a loving parent who seeks a loving, caring relationship with all of us. Pray like this: Our abba in heaven …

Let’s look at what we might learn about parenthood, then, from these stories. Abraham and Sarah and Hagar teach us how hard it can be to be family; there are conflicts and jealousy and yet loving bonds that last a lifetime.  Jesus teaches his disciples, including us today, how hard it can be to be his faithful followers, but says, I’ll be with you, even when it’s hard. Keep on following me. And Paul explains that it’s worth it to live the baptized, resurrected life, in relationship with God the Father of Jesus.  

Many of us were raised with the image of parenting shown on TV, in shows like Father Knows Best, or Eight Is Enough. But these stories were not realistic, at least in the sense of how quickly issues were resolved, if not in the sense that some real-life issues are never really resolved.

In real life, it’s hard to be a parent, to know what is best for each child, for the family. We’re going to make mistakes, even as we are trying to be fair. I still carry resentment at a decision made by my parents. It was certainly not earth-shattering, like the story of Hagar. But I remember it. On Saturday nights in Chicago, Gunsmoke was a 30-minute show that started at 8pm and we always watched it as a family. Then, one year, it began airing in color, and lasted for 60 minutes. That meant our bedtime moved from 8:30 to 9pm, and my parents decided that it would be too late. So, we couldn’t watch it at all, and bedtime was 8pm. Mom and Dad wouldn’t even make an exception for me, the oldest at 13, a teenager!

This week, I hope you will spend some time thinking about this: What kind of parents did you have? If you are a parent or grandparent, what kind of parent or grandparent are you? In what ways is God your loving, forgiving Father or Parent? Or do you describe God differently? Amen.  

Finding and creating community

 Matthew 9:9-13, 18-26

Pastor Shannon Kiser, the Speaker at the Synod Assembly last week, talked about the many ways the church could be community for folks who are otherwise unconnected to a church, or even to God. Her proposal is that the church can grow in community by helping outside groups to know Jesus indirectly and informally.

Let’s look at these stories from Matthew’s Gospel with an eye out for community surrounding the people in the story. Some are stories of inclusion, while others are stories of exclusion. Since God loves all, inclusion for all is God’s plan.

Matthew the tax collector was perhaps a wealthy man, but more likely he was a middle-income figure. Tax collection was a contracted business, with the actual work being done by subcontractors and sub-subcontractors. So, his wealth would depend on his status. Most likely with the location of rural Galilee, Matthew was a sub-subcontractor.

There were several taxes. Two of them were the poll tax, levied on individuals over the age of 12 for boys, or 14 for girls, payable in coin. And the land tax, which was payable with the produce of the land. As we know today, unpaid taxes on the land can cause a family to lose its land. Then as now, the cruelty of these taxes and collection practices could cause many people to be turned off their ancestral land. Because tax collectors were ultimately working for the Romans, they were considered traitors by the Jews.

So, it was scandalous for Jesus to approach Matthew, have a conversation with him, and then eat at his home. The scandalous-ness was expanded when the dinner guests included more tax collectors and other sinners.

The Pharisees were quick to react. Why does your teacher eat with these yucky people? Of course, Jesus overhears the question and responds that healthy people don’t need medical care, but sick people do. And … Think about this saying from Amos: I desire mercy, not sacrificial actions.

So, where is the community in this first story? Of course, the Pharisees were their own community, ready to support those in the in-group who were in need. The tax collectors and other outcasts formed groups, communities, of people like themselves. They all lived with the scorn of the Jewish leaders. But as a group they could support each other, helping when someone was ill or injured, or a family was in need.

And right after this story, Gospel writer Matthew tells us another story.  In his story-telling style, Matthew occasionally sandwiches two stories together, with one story interrupting the other and offering contrasting circumstances.

A leader, a wealthy, important man, approaches Jesus and asks him to rush to his home because his daughter has just died. At the home, there is already a crowd of professional mourners. These folks are loudly wailing and playing sad tunes on their flutes, forming community around the family.

Jesus arrives and sends the mourners home, and then enters the girl’s room. Jesus takes her hand and she gets up out of bed. And now, the natural community of family and friends and neighbors can support the daughter and hear over and over the story of her restoration to health. The story of this healing spreads like wildfire.

While Jesus, surrounded by a large community -- his disciples and followers, and the family and friends of the leader -- hurries to the leader’s home, he is interrupted by a woman who has been bleeding for twelve years. She says to herself, if I just touch the fringe of his cloak, I will be made well. Jesus notices healing power leaving him, and turns to see who it was.

He speaks to her, “Daughter, you have been made well.”  Another daughter, healed, in very different circumstances. Women’s bleeding makes them ritually unclean; men, even husbands and close family, can’t touch them without also being made unclean. So, this woman lacks community. She may have folks who help her, but they don’t touch her.

Some of us know what it is like to not be touched, to not be hugged, perhaps because of family situations. But we don’t know what it is like to not be touched for years because of some rule that says we are untouchable.

It is for people like this that the church can be a resource for welcoming community. What if the women of the synagogue had said, We think you should not have to go alone, so we’ll go with you and ask Jesus to heal you. We’ll make it so Jesus can’t miss seeing you. And if he says, no, we’ll still love you and care for your needs.

Leone, Kathy, Mike and I heard several presentations about communities within and outside the congregation by the Keynote speaker, Rev Shannon Kiser. Her messages cause us to wonder: where can Gloria Dei find communities that need support and encouragement? What would it mean to befriend the kids who ride through the parking lot after school every day? What would it mean to include the neighbors in a project of their choosing? What would happen if a portion of the yard became a community garden? What is God leading you to do next?

As Gloria Dei enters a new chapter of life with Pr Tony, it will take some adjusting, some learning about each other, before it feels like he belongs to this community. My prayers will be with you as you continue to grow and adapt to new circumstances and perhaps develop new communities that can come to know the love of Jesus you all experience already.

I thank you for the way you have welcomed and included Mike and me in your community. We will certainly miss you all. Amen

Divine power and authority

 

Last fall, when we were discussing the Nicene Creed in the Monday Zoom Bible study, we learned that it wasn’t until the 300s and 400s that the concept of God as Trinity was established and refined. And, last week during our Zoom study of Dame Julian of Norwich, we learned there are many ways to describe the Trinity, all centered on the single concept of God as love. And because it’s so easy to speak wrongly, heretically, about the Trinity, I have promised myself to not try to explain the Trinity in a sermon. So …

We read today the story of creation from Genesis 1. In six days, God created the earth and all that is in it. It could be six epochs, or eons, but we use the word days to fit our  human-sized ability to understand  the passing of time.

This year, I found myself pondering the idea that the earth we live on is such a small part of all of creation. And pondering the enormity of the universe, as viewed bit by bit through the amazing Hubble Telescope. Do we assume God created only earth, or did God create all that is? This is some divine power!

As Jesus walked the earth, he too has this amount of power, though he left it behind; Paul says he emptied himself, in order to be with us as a human. At times, he chooses to use such power, to catch fish, to feed a crowd, to heal hurting bodies and spirits.

After the resurrection, Jesus meets with the disciples and followers. It’s time to tell them what’s next for them. We call this passage the “Great Commission.” Jesus commissions believers from this moment on to tell the whole world about him. He is saying he now gives them the authority to go and baptize believers, bringing them all into the mission he has begun. Jesus has given us that same power and authority to speak his name to others, and bring them into the flock. They will be guided by Jesus through the power and influence of the Holy Spirit.

 For many of us, this is scary. It’s not something we think we can do. We are too shy, we don’t want to offend anyone. We’ve been taught we don’t talk about money, politics, or religion in polite society. I suggest that if the disciples didn’t talk about Jesus in polite society, we wouldn’t believe in him today.

So, it’s time to assume you/ we all have Jesus’ authority to break that rule when it seems appropriate. The proof of this is the way God’s Holy Spirit makes our hearts beat faster with the impulse to speak up and puts words in our mouths, and even helps the listener be receptive to the meaning behind our words.

I want to point out something in the text that we often skip over – the line that says, some doubted. Another way to interpret the original text is: and they had some doubt. I am comforted by this interpretation, because it’s natural for us humans to doubt.

We doubt our own ability. We doubt others will show up and do what they are supposed to do. We doubt God has the power and willingness to heal, to bring peace, to mend hearts, and so forth. And so, we don’t put all our trust in God; we have some doubt. And we say, we give our worry or fear to God,  but with the next breath, we grab control right back.

And yet, God continually invites us to trust. God gives us the authority and power to take chances, to risk, to dare try something. God shares divine authority with us, and we only need to receive it and trust in God’s guidance through the Holy Spirit’s wisdom.  

In just a few minutes today, you-all will vote on calling a new pastor to serve with you at Gloria Dei. It’s an important moment in the life of any congregation. Lay people are entrusted with the authority to choose their leaders. However the vote goes, you can trust God to be with you always.

And as your current pastor, I share with you something a bishop said to a church council many years ago.  There is no perfect pastor, and there is no perfect congregation. Yet we pastors are each entrusted with the authority to lead congregations as God’s calling sends us.

The God we believe in has the power and authority to create worlds beyond our capacity to understand. The same God has the ability to limit access to that power in order to lie on earth for a time. And the same God cares about us enough to whisper or shout to us, as fits the circumstances.

Will you trust that God is sending Pastor name to lead you? Will you trust them to be guided by God to lead Gloria Dei into the future?

Amen