Saturday, October 27, 2018

Hear, O Israel. Just Love Them. Year B, Reformation Sunday, Jeremiah 31.31-34, Romans 3.19-28, John 8.31-36


 שְׁמַע יִשְׂרָאֵל 
Just Love them all, I’ll sort them out later.

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and our Lord and Savior, Jesus the Christ.  Amen
There’s a church sign that’s become popular.
“Just love them all, I’ll sort them out later.”
I like that.  It speaks to the new covenant that God has established with us, a covenant written on our hearts, and a covenant with two major tenents:
“Hear, O Israel:  The Lord is our God, the Lord alone. You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your might.”
And the second:
“You shall love your neighbor as yourself: I am the Lord.”
OK, so now we are going to have a test.
If this is the new covenant, who gave us these two commandments?
Raise your hand if you think it was Moses?
Raise your hand if you think it was Jesus?
Ok, so that was a trick question.
In Deuteronomy 6:4 & 5 it is Moses who says:
“Hear, O Israel:  The Lord is our God, the Lord alone. You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your might.”
It is known as the “Shema”, and it is the central creed of the Jewish faith.
And in Leviticus 19:18 we find ““You shall love your neighbor as yourself: I am the Lord.”
But then it is Jesus that links these two together in Matthew 22.
"Teacher, which commandment in the law is the greatest?" He said to him, "'You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind. ' This is the greatest and first commandment. And a second is like it:  'You shall love your neighbor as yourself.'  On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets."
Jesus also gives us the New Commandment:
I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another.
As we think of the most important verses in the New Testament there are a couple that would be on almost anybody’s list:
"For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life.”  John 3:16
And then from Romans 8:
“For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.”
OK, so here I’m going to let you in on a little secret.
The new covenant that Jeremiah says God will establish with his people—
The covenant that Jesus proclaimed—
IS THE SAME AS THE FIRST COVENANT!
God loves us.
We are to love God in return, and to love each other as we have been loved by God.
“Hear, O Israel:  The Lord is our God, the Lord alone. You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your might.”
You shall love your neighbor as yourself: I am the Lord.”
Love.
It shouldn’t be that hard.
But it has proven difficult over the ages.
The problem is not that we are incapable of love, but rather that our human inclination to love is selective.
And with every fiber of our being, we resist the commandment to love all people and try mightily to change it to ‘love some people’ and not others.
God says “Love your neighbor as you love yourselves.” And we respond “Who is my neighbor?”
And the answer to that question, from God’s perspective is this.  Whoever shares this planet we call earth with us, is your neighbor.  Love them.
Jesus says:  I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another.”
We say that Jesus was talking to his disciples, and that what he really meant was that we should love ‘one another’, which means ‘people who are part of the church’. 
And then, to make it even easier, we start deciding who can and cannot be part of the church. 
You see, if we only have to love people that are part of the church, and we restrict membership in the church to people we love, it all works out much easier for us.
The history of Christianity is riddled with divisions that are precisely that.  We redefine the church, so that it is easier to love the little group that is ours.
Every time something disagreeable comes up that makes it difficult to love one another, we simply start a new church.  Problem solved.
In John’s first letter he responds to this tendency on our part by saying rather emphatically:
Those who say, "I love God," and hate their brothers or sisters, are liars; for those who do not love a brother or sister whom they have seen, cannot love God whom they have not seen. The commandment we have from him is this:  those who love God must love their brothers and sisters also.
And who is my brother or sister?
Simple answer.  Each and every person created by God the Father is your brother and sister.  Love them.
This is Reformation Sunday.
For much of the last five hundred years Reformation Sunday has been celebrated with a spirit of “Lutheran patriotism”.
One of the changes that has developed in conjunction with the 500th anniversary of the Reformation is a recognition that first of all, we do not  ‘celebrate’ a division in the Church.  We’ve been very carefully using the term ‘commemorate’. 
Instead, our focus now is on reconciliation, and seeking to reclaim the unity of the Body of Christ.
Lutheran?  Love them.
Catholic?  Love them.
Baptist?  Love them.
Orthodox?  Love them.
Pentecostal?  Love them.
Presbyterian?  Love them.
Non-denominational?  Love them.
And not only that, we also are called to love people of other faiths.
Jewish?  Love them.
Muslim?  Love them.
Hindu?  Love them.
When in doubt, just remember one thing.  Love them.
Another thing we do is to say that we must take a hard stand against sin and unrighteousness.
In the name of “love the sinner, hate the sin” we condemn people, and quite frankly, do not love them.
The problem is that we cannot make this distinction.
Paul writes:  For there is no distinction, since all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God; they are now justified by his grace as a gift, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus.
One of the most helpful reminders is that as a Church, we are in the business of loving and forgiving sinners.
Quit making distinctions, we have all sinned, and yet, are all still loved by God.
God must get tired of our antics.
Yet time and time again, with unending patience he simply stops us and calls us back to the covenant.
I am your God.
I Love you.
Now, Love me with all your heart, mind, and strength.
And love each other.

Then we fail.  We don’t love.  Perhaps we even hate.
Then God comes to us again and says “OK, friends, lets try this again:
I am your God.
I Love you.
Now, Love me with all your heart, mind, and strength.
And love each other.

But God do we have to love those people?
Then God comes to us again and says “OK, friends, lets try this again:
I am your God.
I Love you.
Now, Love me with all your heart, mind, and strength.
And love each other.

And God is going to keep doing this until we get it.
God is going to call us back to the covenant.
Love God.  Love one another.  And remember, I will always love you.
No one is beyond that love.
And nothing in all creation can separate us from that love.

May this peace that passes all understanding keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus our Lord.  Amen


Saturday, October 20, 2018

Will you love my people? Year B, Pentecost 22, Mark 10.35-45


Grace to you and peace from God our Father and our Lord and Savior, Jesus the Christ.  Amen
Oh you who would walk with me, will you love my people as I have loved you?
Will you pray for them?
Will you care for them?
Will you rejoice with them?
Will you cry with them?
Will you celebrate with them?
Will you grieve with them? 
Will you serve them?
Will you not judge them?
Will you accept them?
Will you welcome them?
Will you embrace them?
Will you forgive them?
Will you live with them?
Will you be with them as they die?
You who would walk by my side, will you love my people as I have loved you?
A mother, a father, an unborn child, a family waiting for the most precious gift of all.  Will you love my people?
Incest and a 12 year old girl.  A baby within and desperation without.  A decision made.  A pregnancy aborted.  One life resumes, another ends.  Guilt.  Shame.  Regrets abound for a lifetime.
Will you love my people?  Will you care for her?  Will you forgive her?
Silence where there should have been a heartbeat. A couple grieves the news.  Labor is induced that a lifeless body may be delivered.  Under a tree they buried their lifeless child.
Will you love my people, crying their tears and holding them tight?
One born too soon with insufficient lungs.  5 days of gasping for air.  But no more.
Will you love my people?
A child eager to learn.
A toddler longing to play.
The tender grasp of a baby’s small fingers wrapped around yours.
Water, the Word, a font and some promises.  God’s child.  Our brother.  Our sister.
Will you love my people?
Two young girls, full of life and adventure.  A Mustang.  An unsupervised afternoon.  A joyride gone bad.  Flying through the air.  Another causualty.  More grief.  Baptism in the emergency room.  Funeral.  Lilies blooming at the foot of the cross.
Grief Struck parents.  Angry parents.  Lawsuits.  Vengence.  Opportunistic lawyers.  A judgment that left no one satisfied.
Will you love my people?
There in that cemetery, three boys playing.  Swinging on the rope that hung from the flag pole.  Too much weight.  The flag pole crashed down on one of their heads.
Beeping monitors.  Intensive care.  No brain activity.  Yet the beating heart of one declared dead.  Grieving parents.  Agonizing choices.  A void.  Accusations and investigations. 
Will you love my people?
Homeless.  Mentally disabled.  Shouldn’t have had one child, but they had eight, including the one who died in that cemetery.  Judgements rendered against them by the courts, by public opinion.
We are  homeless, can you help?  Living from handout to handout.  Welfare.  They hate the system that is both their lifeline and their prison.  Counties pay them to leave and go somewhere else. 
Will you love my people?
Anger.  Being treated as a child throughout his life by a father too controlling to let him grow up.  Farmers working side by side.  Sort of.  On the father’s terms.  Resentment.  Anger. 
Too often others bear the brunt of that anger.   Victims of a rage unresolved.
Will you love my people?
A wife abused.  Terrified at night, devastated in the morning.
Yet she will not leave.  For better or for worse.
Will you love my people?
Contentious and conflicted.  Wanting to do what is right but venturing into the unknown.  Misguided.  Rumors and slander.  Vengeful rejection.  All in the name of Jesus. 
Loving and supportive.  Quick to forgive.  Slow to anger.  Wanting to do far more than they are able.  Willing to think the best.  Deeply grateful.  But unable to protect from all harm.
One parish.  Three congregations.  As different as night and day.
Will you love my people?
The “Pillar” of the congregation.  Dedicated.  Generous. A sarcastic wit which was her greatest gift and most evident fault. 
Will you love my people?
A colonel.  Retired.  Still commanding.  Serving.  Bigoted.  A little to the right of Attila the Hun.
Will you love my people?
A young woman who wasn’t a woman inside.  I don’t understand.  Hormone therapy.  Emerging masculinity.  Surgery.  A man.  Peace.  Yet seeking acceptance from a people who don’t understand and who are ready to judge. 
Will you love my people?
Strong convictions.  Seeking the truth and defending their understanding of righteousness.  “If my child were gay, he wouldn’t be my child anymore.”  They left the congregation.  Others did as well.  Unable to accept, desiring to follow Jesus, they walked.
Will you love my people?
For over twenty five years these two women have been a couple.  Twenty five years of loving companionship.  Sex has not even been part of their relationship for much of that time.  Servants of God.  Deep people of faith even though many don’t accept them or who they are. 
Yet week after week, she set the table for communion.  It was a place of belonging for her.
Will you love my people?
Age can be cruel.  Golden years are sometimes golden only because of the gold that is required to live through them.
Alzheimer’s is a living death.  A body still strong, still too strong.  A gentle soul rendered combative beyond recognition.  Where is the man we loved all these years.  We see his body.  Where is his mind and spirit.  That one we knew and loved is somehow now gone even though his body remains.
Will you love my people?

One after another saints and sinners make their way from life to death.
Baptisms.  Weddings.  Confirmations and Graduations.  Vocations and service.  Hospitalizations and death.
People of God on a journey, through every triumph and tragedy.
Will you love my people?
“Lord, grant us to sit, one at your right hand and one at your left, in your glory.”
Will you love my people?
You who would walk with me, will you love my people as I have loved you?
Intimacy is the greatest gift.  To become one with them in their living and dying.
Vulnerability is the ultimate price.  For as we walk with them, we suffer with them, as well.
You who would walk with me, will you love my people as I have loved you?
Like James and John, I desired to walk with Jesus, to be at his side.
But I had no idea what was to come.
These are but the tip of the iceberg.
I could spend thirty more years telling you of the thirty years of people I have known and sought, as best as I was able, to love.
People of every stripe and color.
People who succeeded at this enterprise we call life.
People who failed miserably.
Sometimes I responded to them well.
Sometimes I fell so far short of the mark that I am ashamed.
“The cup that I drink you will drink; and with the baptism with which I am baptized, you will be baptized;”
Throughout it all, I have become ever more aware of the forgiveness and love with which Christ embraced me.
Christ only asks that we love, as we first have been loved.
That we serve as he first served us.
And that leads us to this motley crew we call the Church.
You who would walk with me, will you love my people as I have loved you?
More than anything else, the one thing I least expected was how much grief I would feel for to love is to become vulnerable, and to suffer with those who suffer, and to grieve with those who grieve.
You who would walk with me, will you love my people as I have loved you?
Jesus suffers with us.  He so loves us that as we suffer he suffers too.
Surely he has borne our infirmities and carried our diseases; yet we accounted him stricken, struck down by God, and afflicted. But he was wounded for our transgressions, crushed for our iniquities; upon him was the punishment that made us whole, and by his bruises we are healed.
You who would walk with me, will you love my people as I have loved you?
Are you willing not only to rejoice with those who are rejoicing, but to bear the wounds of those who are afflicted?
This is our calling.  To love Jesus’ people.
God help us.
Amen

Saturday, October 13, 2018

Giving our All, Year A, Pentecost 21, Mark 10:17-31,


Grace to you and peace from God our Father and our Lord and Savior, Jesus the Christ.  Amen
There are two readings from the Gospels that make me very uncomfortable, and always leave me trying somehow to work my way around them.
The first, and probably the most difficult one, is the judgment of the nations found in Matthew 25.
That’s where Jesus says that the Son of Man will come in glory, and judge the nations, dividing the people into two groups.   One group will inherit the Kingdom prepared for them from the beginning.  The others sent to the eternal fire prepared for the devils and his angels.
The difference between the two groups is how they treated the least of these. 
for I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me,  I was naked and you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me. '
When did we do this—or not do this??
And the king will answer them, 'Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me. '
Yup, that one makes me nervous.  Uncomfortable.  And perhaps it should.
And today’s Gospel is no easier.
“You lack one thing; go, sell what you own, and give the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me.”
A few years back, when I preached on this text, one of my members was quite upset after the sermon.
“Pastor, my husband put his Rolex watch in the offering plate this morning!”
OK, well I wasn’t expecting that.
What can we say about this text?
First a few comments:
An interesting shift occurs between the question that the young man asks Jesus, and the answer that Jesus gives.
The man asks what he must do to inherit eternal life?
Jesus responds by talking about the kingdom of God.
Are they one and the same?  Or not? 
Is it possible Jesus is dismissing the man’s concern about heaven and eternal life, and instead focuses on the Kingdom of God as a present reality in this world? 
Secondly, the Gospel tells us that the man went away grieving for he had many possessions.
Was he grieving because he couldn’t give up those possessions and as a result inherit eternal life?  Or because he did do as Jesus commanded and gave up everything?  We don’t know what happened to him.
And thirdly, one of the questions we ask is “was Jesus speaking just to that man or to us as well?”  Or we might ask if we are the ‘rich’ Jesus was speaking to, or did he mean those far richer than us.  Compared to Bill Gates I’m not rich nor are you.  So are we off the hook?
And finally, was Jesus’ intent actually that we should give up all that we have, and follow him?  Or was his actual point that it was impossible for any of us to do anything to inherit eternal life—but what is impossible for us, is quite possible for God.
In this case we can entirely dismiss Jesus’ command to sell all that we have and give it to the poor, and then take comfort in the unconditional grace of God by which we are saved—apart from any action on our part.
What makes me uncomfortable is that in order to do this we have to dismiss Jesus’ own words, in favor of an easier interpretation of them.
And dismissing what Jesus’ says should make us uncomfortable.
Jesus says:  for I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me,  I was naked and you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me. '
Jesus says:  “You lack one thing; go, sell what you own, and give the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me.”
Do we simply ignore Jesus?  Dismiss him?  Or seek to do as he instructed us?  And what is the consequence?
How will we be judged?
Will we be saved because we fed the hungry, gave drink to the thirsty, welcomed the stranger, clothed the naked, cared for the sick, and visited the imprisoned?
Are we saved because we sold what we have and gave the money to the poor?
Now here, we can interject another couple of observations.
·         Some might suggest that Jesus is being unrealistically idealistic.  His command to sell everything and give it to the poor is just not sustainable.
·         Furthermore, if we did sell all that we have and give it to the poor all that would happen is that they’d now be rich and we’d be poor.  Wouldn’t that in turn mean that they should do the same for us?
That said, at the end of the day I’m left with the thought that we basically have two options:
Either we are going to find some basis for ignoring Jesus’ words and doing our own thing, or we take Jesus at his own word, and then become really uncomfortable.
Back to the matter of the Rolex watch.
I was faced with a dilemma.  What to do?
Should I accept this man’s gift, sell the watch for what I could get, and give the money to the poor?  The problem I had with that is that I’d only be able to sell the watch for a fraction of what it was worth.
Or should I have rejected this man’s gift, and basically told him that I didn’t mean THAT.
What I decided to do, was to give it back to him with the admonition that he could continue wearing it, but that he should remember that it was now God’s.  And not only that, he should let it be a reminder that everything he had was God’s—and he was but a steward of these possessions.
“We give thee but thine own, whate’er the gift may be; all that we have is thine alone, a trust O Lord from thee.
“May we thy bounties thus, as stewards true receive.  And gladly as thou blesses us, to thee our first fruits give.”
That’s the hymn we sing as we bring our gifts to the altar.
One of the ways we can take Jesus’ seriously is to offer ourselves and all that we have to him as faithful stewards.
We have been blessed with an abundance of riches.
We are called to be stewards, not owners.
Yes, with those riches we need to care for ourselves, we need to provide for our own food, and home, and all the other essentials of life and living.
But we are also responsible for other things as well.
One of the least popular responsibilities we have is to be responsible citizens, pay our taxes, and by doing so support all that our government is responsible for doing.
We are called to respond to the poor and all in need with compassion and mercy.
And for certain, we all called to offer our first fruits for the sake of the Gospel, and to provide for the ministry of the Church.
The stewardship question is this:  Given all that we have been entrusted with, how would Jesus have us distribute it?  How much should I spend on housing?  On food?  On other things like cars and toys, and travel?  And how much should I give to the church?  And what about the food bank?  Or offering things such as these quilts to help those in need? 
In the Old Testament we are instructed to tithe, to give the first 10% of our income to God.
In the New Testament, Jesus raises the stakes and expects us to offer 100% to him, managing all we have as stewards.  
That’s the stewardship answer.
Another way to respond to these words of Jesus, is to focus on the last words of Jesus’ command:
sell what you own, and give the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me.
This is a matter of discipleship.
Jesus said:  " 'You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind. '  This is the greatest and first commandment.  And a second is like it:'You shall love your neighbor as yourself. '
Here we might ask the question:  “What part of the word All don’t you understand?”
All your heart.
All your soul.
All your mind.
And yes, all your possessions.
The point is that Jesus will not settle for anything less than our “all”.
Jesus wants all of you, not just a part of you.
To follow Jesus is to give our entire life to him.
Nothing less.
We are called to be both stewards and disciples.
OK.  But back to the original question.
“Good Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?”
Here I’m going to leave you with a thought.
How much did you do to deserve to be born?
Obviously, there’s nothing we could possibly do to deserve to be born, as we simply didn’t exist prior to that.
Life is a gift.
And if life is a gift, eternal life is as well.
There’s nothing you can do to earn it.
“For mortals it is impossible, but not for God; for God all things are possible.”
May this peace that passes all understanding keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.
Amen

Sunday, October 7, 2018

Ave Maria

"What are mere mortals that you should be mindful of them, human beings that you should care for them? "  (Psalm 8)

"Indeed, I know their sufferings, and I have come down to deliver them."  (Exodus 3)

"Dave, I am so full of fury I do not know what to do."

This person is not alone.  Our nation has just come through a bitter fight over the confirmation of Justice Kavanaugh to the Supreme Court.  Allegations of a sexual assault during his youth were raised during the confirmation hearings.  A cursory investigation followed,  yet even before the results were in, the vote to confirm was scheduled.  For some there is a satisfaction that justice prevailed.  And for others, rage at the indifference to the victimization of women by men, and the sense that their experience and suffering has been dismissed.

I don't know what actually happened with Brett Kavanaugh.  I can speak with no authority on the veracity of the allegations against him.  As a liberal democrat, I realize that even if his nomination had been revoked, another judge with conservative leanings would have been nominated.

But what I do know is that for many there is a overwhelming sense that an alleged crime against women was dismissed as of no consequence, and that in doing so we have devalued the experience of women.  And so many across this country, especially those who have their own stories of abuse, find themselves full of fury and rage at the injustice of it all.  Doesn't it at least merit a full investigation?  In the end, it was determined that the nomination would proceed without a full investigation and the outcome was basically a foregone conclusion.

When faced with suffering and injustice in this country, it matters who you are.  And if you are accused, the presumption of innocence is dependent on your status.  It mattered that Donald Trump was a rich celebrity running for president.  "And when you are a star, they let you do it.  You can do anything."  "I could stand in the middle of 5th Avenue and shoot somebody and wouldn't lose any voters, ok?  It's like, incredible."  I don't believe a lot of what Trump says, but I'm starting to believe this.

The situation would be much different if the person involved was an 18 year old black man.

And the suffering of women, or victims in general, is widely dismissed.  Boys will be boys, and boys love their toys.  Unfortunately, for too many boys women are but toys and the pursuit of them a mere game, without regard to the consequences.  "Women like to be taken by force."  Well, I've heard of no woman who would agree with this.  Yet in the pursuit to score, it remains a male conviction.  No doesn't always mean no.  It's supposed to, but it doesn't.  "No" too often is interpreted as 'try harder'.  And women become victims.  "She'll object at first, but then she'll be turned on and it will drive her crazy!"  (This is an actual quote from the man that abused me as a child as he was teaching me about sexual relations.")

The result is a feeling of being devalued.  A crisis of self worth.  And an outrageous fury at being a 'non-person'.  This is not new.  Patriarchy is firmly entrenched throughout history.  Women were not allowed to be witnesses.  Their word of testimony meant nothing.

Her accusations were viewed as a vicious attack on his character, he was viewed as the victim, and the presumption of his innocence, and her guilt, was so great that a full investigation was deemed not necessary.  Welcome to the Supreme Court.

"Dave, I am so full of fury I do not know what to do."

My first response is a prayer.  I pray that I have not hurt any woman, any person, and I pray for forgiveness if I have.  I am ashamed to admit that during my drinking days I did things that I now deeply regret.  Yesterday, during a wedding sermon in which I spoke about the need to forgive, I turned to the bride and said "If you need help learning how to forgive, perhaps you should speak to my wife as she has forgiven me often."

"What are mere mortals that you should be mindful of them, human beings that you should care for them? "  (Psalm 8)

"Indeed, I know their sufferings, and I have come down to deliver them."  (Exodus 3)


What can I say to a woman who has been a victim, and for whom justice have never been done?  

God is mindful of them.

God cares for them.

God has heard their sufferings, and has come down to deliver them.

In my own fury, I'm tempted to add "Vengeance is mine, I will repay, says the Lord."

I'm struggling.  I'd like to do something to address the issue of injustice toward victims in this world.  Actually, this is one cause I championed to no avail during one of my manic phases.  And yet there is a patronizing aspect to my desire to save women from this injustice.  Patriarchy is hard to shed.

Though its foreign to our Church, I find myself wondering if those who have been victimized as women need to turn to the Virgin Mary for help.  Perhaps it will take a healing word from a woman to redeem this brokenness.  And perhaps, this holy maiden may bear Christ for the healing of victims everywhere.  

Image result for theotokos