Sermon for 6th Sunday after Pentecost

Sermon 7/24/11

Matthew 13:31-33, 44-52

           

               This month, we’ve been looking at some of Jesus’ parables and today, as we wrap up our focus on these parables, we’re hit with a string of mini-parables, a set of four that are just a couple of verses each. Again, we start out with seeds – this time mustard seeds – and then move on to yeast, treasure in a field, fine pearls, a net catching fish. In all of these parables, Jesus begins in the same way: “The kingdom of heaven is like:” Jesus wants us to get a clear message about God’s kingdom – it is so important that we understand about the kingdom of God that Jesus will tell literally story after story after story, same structure, different examples. The kingdom of heaven is like this. The kingdom of heaven is like this. The kingdom of heaven is like this.

            So what is the kingdom of God? What is it like? Why is Jesus so concerned that we get this? After reading all these parables, do we know? Indeed, Jesus wondered if his disciples were getting the message too. At the close of our text today, Jesus asks them, “Have you understood all this?” They reply, simply, “Yes.” So short a response that you have to wonder if they got it or just thought they should have gotten it, or said yes, but still had blank looks on their faces! So we have to ask ourselves too: Do we get what Jesus is saying here about the kingdom, or do we just think we should get it? Remember that I told you that Jesus’ first hearers had a bit of an advantage over us in listening to Jesus’ teaching. They were people who were connected to the land for their livelihoods in a way that we aren’t any longer, at least not most of us. Jesus’ parables would resonate deeply with them, surprise them in just the right places, cause them to ask questions as he expected his words would. Jesus used what was very ordinary to talk to them about the kingdom of God. Think about what Jesus uses in his parables: seeds, wheat which makes common foods, weeds, tiny mustard seeds, yeast, fish. Maybe the parables about the treasure in a field or the merchant seeking pearls are a little less typical, but mostly, Jesus is talking about everyday stuff, ordinary stuff in these parables, ordinary to 1^st century listeners.

            Why does Jesus use such ordinary illustrations? Why not a more dramatic illustration to make his points? Well, I think the ordinary nature of the examples is the point. It is that the kingdom of God is present in the everyday of our lives that Jesus is trying to make us understand at the core. Right now, in these summer months, we’re in the liturgical season that, as I may have mentioned in the past, used to be called “Ordinary Time,” because it was named after the ordinals – 1^st Sunday, 2^nd Sunday, 3^rd Sunday, and so on after Pentecost Day. Now, we just call this “the season after Pentecost.” But I like “Ordinary Time.” What’s wrong with having some ordinary time? Maybe it is easy for us to see God at work in our midst in the special times of the church year – at Christmas and Advent, during Lent and Easter, or even on days when we celebrate special things – Anniversary Sunday, or Graduations, or baptisms. But what I think Jesus gets at in his parables is that the kingdom of God happens, arrives, lives and exists for us in ordinary time – right in the everyday stuff of life. It is in our work, in our eating, in our business, in our growing – in the everyday things, we find the kingdom of God. If we can only see God at work at the holidays, we’re missing a lot of activity in the kingdom of God. We are missing the point. Real life, the abundant life Jesus offers, isn’t about the special events that occasionally mark our time. Real life is in the time in between. It’s in the relationships that sustain us daily. It’s in the love we share and show to one another for no other reason than because we are all God’s children. These parables first and foremost remind us that the kingdom of God is in us, and around us, so pervasive that it is in everything we do – if we look for it. If we let it in. For some people, looking for God means looking for a miracle, or a supernatural event, or an event beyond our explanation. But I think perhaps God is best revealed when we understand that God is in the things that make up our everyday lives. That’s where we need to start looking for the kingdom. The kingdom of God is extraordinary because it is in the ordinary. It’s here among us, not so special that it is beyond our reach.

This last week I had the pleasure of working as the chaplain for Music Camp at Sky Lake, one of our conference camp and retreat centers. We talked a lot about watching for God during the week, looking out for God at work in the world. We celebrated communion every day together, and each day I would try to teach something about what communion means. But the first day, I explained this: what God does with everything, not just in communion, but with everything, is take the ordinary – the seemingly mundane or usual or common everyday things of our lives, and make them into holy things. God makes the ordinary holy. And God can do this with anything, with the stuff that is all around us, with the stuff that seems like nothing important at all – even with us – even with ordinary people. What God does in communion is take extremely ordinary things – bread and drink, staples of the average meal – and make them into something holy – Jesus broken and poured out for us, symbols of the body of Christ. And because God uses these ordinary things, everyday foods for communion, rather than special delicacies , we can be reminded every time we eat food, something essential to live, of God's presence, Jesus' gift to us, God's grace.

            God makes the ordinary holy. And so Jesus, again and again in these parables, is saying something like this: You want to know where God is? You want to experience heaven? You want to know about the kingdom of God? Well, I will tell you how to get there. Find some bread, and you have found the kingdom. In fact, find just the ingredients, and God is there too. Find some seeds – even the smallest seeds – and there is something holy. You know the fish you eat every day? That too is a sign of the kingdom, something ordinary God makes holy.

            I think Jesus wants us to stop waiting around – stop waiting for some special sign, stop waiting for some just right holy moment, some perfect holy setting – and start realizing God and God's kingdom are already right here, in our midst, making everything holy in order to reach us, move us, shape us.

            These parables also tell us that being part of the kingdom of God is worth everything single thing we have. Nothing we have is more important than being part of God’s kingdom. The two parables about the field with treasure and the merchant seeking pearls aren’t about wealthy collectors buying another item to add to what they already have. Take note – in both parables, the person sells everything they have just to get the one single item – the treasure, the pearl. Everything for the one thing. What would you give everything you had in order to have? If you really ask yourself that question, I think and hope you’ll find that your answer isn’t a tangible item. You wouldn’t give up all you had for something you could buy in a store. But would you give up everything for a loved one? For a relationship? A family member? God? To give up everything, to “have to have” something, this something has to have extreme value – to be worth everything we have. That’s what Jesus wants to know, wants us to know for ourselves: is your relationship with God – is the kingdom of God and being part of it – worth everything that you have?

            The kingdom of heaven is like a seed, sown in good soil, yielding 100 fold harvest. It’s like wheat, waiting for the harvest. It’s like a mustard seed – so tiny, and yet so huge. It’s like yeast, spreading in a way no one quite understands. It’s like a treasure you stumbled upon without being prepared for how it would change you. It’s like a net that draws you in. It’s like a pearl, so precious, that it’s worth everything for you to have it. It is as close as the food that we eat, the cup that we drink. It is right here, in the most ordinary of things, just waiting to be noticed; part of us already, and waiting to be made more fully part of us. That’s what the kingdom of God is like. “Have you understood all this?” With God’s help, may we catch glimpses of the kingdom, alive within us, swirling around us, growing through us.  May we answer yes, and mean it. Amen. 

             

Sermon for Second Sunday in Lent, Year A, "Voices: Nicodemus"

Sermon 3/20/11

John 3:1-17

Voices: Nicodemus

            When I was little, the small country church I went to in Westernville had a big emphasis in Sunday School on memorizing Bible verses. Every week we’d spend some time going over verses, and in the older classes, we’d actually get 5 cents for every verse we could memorize. I was certainly inspired by promise of such riches, and could memorize quite a lot of verses! Today we don’t focus so much on memorizing verses, which has some pros and cons – a single verse taken out of context doesn’t always do you much good, and in fact, can lead you to wrong conclusions when you don’t know the rest of what’s happened in a passage! So we tend today to focus more on teaching whole stories, rather than memorizing single verses. Nonetheless, you probably still know this verse by heart, in the King James Version even – John 3:16. “For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.” Yet, even though we know that verse so well, here’s a perfect example of what I was talking about – do you know the context? How does Jesus come to say these words? As we continue our Lenten journey, and listen in on the voices pulling at our gospel characters, today we meet up with a man named Nicodemus.

Nicodemus is a Pharisee, a leader among the Pharisees. The Pharisees were the scholars and interpreters of the law with whom Jesus was most often in conflict, because the Pharisees, Jesus argued, tried to put too many rules and regulations on the people for being “good Jews,” while managing to miss the heart and soul of it – that is, relationship with God. Nicodemus is sort of stepping out of the pack by coming to see Jesus – he’s taking a risk because he has some questions that he really wants Jesus to answer. But also note that he’s protecting himself and his position too – he comes to see Jesus at night, when he can meet with Jesus without drawing attention to himself.

            Nicodemus acknowledges Jesus’ legitimacy – “no one can do these signs apart from the presence of God,” he says. But Jesus pushes him: “Truly I tell you, no one can see the kingdom of God without being born from above.” Remember, the kingdom of God being here and now – that’s the core of Jesus’ message. Jesus turns the focus away from himself and his power, and to Nicodemus – and whether or not Nicodemus wants to be part of the kingdom of God. Jesus is always an outside-the-box thinker, but Nicodemus can’t understand what Jesus is getting at – “How can anyone be born after having grown old?” he wonders. Can you enter the womb again and be born? But Jesus explains that he means that we have to be Spirit-born as well as born in flesh, and wonders how one who is a teacher of Israel can’t get it.

            Then Jesus says, “and just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, that whoever believes in him may have eternal life.” This is a strange verse if you don’t know the context. Jesus is talking about something we can find in the book of Numbers, chapter 21, this story of the bronze serpent. The Israelites, still wandering in the desert, were complaining to God and Moses about food and water, when poisonous snakes were sent among the people. The snakes would bite the people, and the people would die. The people understood these snakes to be a punishment on them from God. So they came to Moses and confessed their sinfulness, and asked Moses for help. Moses prayed for the people, and heard God’s voice, telling him to create a serpent out of bronze that would be fixed to a pole. The passage concludes, “whenever a serpent bit someone, that person would look at the serpent of bronze and live.”

            Jesus says “and just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, that whoever believes in him may have eternal life.” The serpent, raised up for the Israelites, gave them earthly life. Jesus, raised up – and the word here for raised up is actually the same as “crucified” – Jesus, raised up, gives life too – real life, eternal life. Then, finally the verse that we know so well, and its match –  “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. Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him.” Jesus is the life-giver – that is his purpose – to give life, not to condemn and judge, but to save, and make whole, to help people see, be part of the kingdom of God.

            What we don’t know is how Nicodemus responds, at least immediately, to what he hears from Jesus. Clearly Jesus’ words have overwhelmed him. It is a lot to take in. And the scriptures record no response. What we do see in the gospels in Nicodemus appearing later – first when the Pharisees are urging action against Jesus, and Nicodemus reminds them that the law doesn’t condemn people without giving them a trial first. And then, after Jesus’ crucifixion, Nicodemus assists Joseph of Arimathea with Jesus’ burial. So we know that Nicodemus doesn’t immediately drop his nets, so to speak, to follow Jesus. But it seems like something might be sinking in by degrees – willing to raise his voice amongst his peers on Jesus’ behalf, and then, at the end, participating in honoring Jesus for his burial.

            In some ways I related to Nicodemus more than others who encounter Jesus in the gospels. When Jesus calls Simon Peter, for example, Peter just drops his nets and follows. I find it hard to imagine that kind of complete, life-changing response, so immediate and total. No time to think or plan or process. It is so hard to imagine being like that, when it seems a struggle to make just the simplest of lasting changes in my life. But Nicodemus – a skeptic maybe, confused, believing and not yet acting on what he’s beginning to believe, what he knows to be true somewhere buried inside – I find I can relate to Nicodemus. The people who already have nothing, like fishermen and tax collectors, prostitutes and poor folk, who already have been told they count for nothing – embracing Jesus makes sense. But for those who have something to lose, some power to give up, some control to hand over to God in order to enter this kingdom as peers, co-workers with the “least of these” – well, the choice is a challenge, the conflicting voices – called to the status quo or called to God and new life that requires being born, spiritually, all over again.

            You might wonder why we celebrate the baptisms of children and infants. In baptism we affirm what Jesus speaks of here – born of water and Spirit. But don’t we have to wait until we can know for ourselves, claim for ourselves that we want to be reborn? Renewed? Recreated? But what we do in baptism, when her parents and godparents and all of us take vows on Ella’s behalf – what we do is commit to helping her hear God’s voice, when we know how hard that will be sometimes in her life. And we acknowledge that even now, even already, even as she came into being, God’s voice was already calling to her, offering life. We commit to helping her claim that gift. Like Nicodemus we struggle with letting Jesus change us, even when we believe what Jesus says – and so we begin now with Ella, that she might have a whole lifetime to be a disciple.

            For God so loves Ella – for God so loves me – for God so loves you, that God gave Jesus, that you who believe in him might not perish but have eternal life. Amen.   

Sermon for First Sunday in Lent, Year A, "Voices: Tempted"

Sermon 3/13/11

Voices: Tempted

On Wednesday night this past week, at our Ash Wednesday service, I introduced our Lenten theme for this year – Voices. We talked about how many voices are clamoring for our attention in this world. Throughout the season of Lent, we’ll try to listen in on those voices, and in particular, listen for the voice of God in the midst of all the other noise. That’s really what Lent is about – that’s why Lent is a season of reflection, repentance, renewal, why people focus on sacrifice, austerity, a lifestyle that is perhaps a little less indulgent than usual. It’s a time to tune everything else out so we can tune in to God. So throughout Lent, we’ll listen in to the gospel stories where we see examples of just that – characters trying to decide which voices to listen to. We begin with one who sets the example for us – Jesus.  

In our gospel lesson, Jesus has just been baptized by John, his cousin. And he’s heard God’s voice saying, “This is my son, the beloved, with whom I am well pleased.” He’s grounded already in the truth of that voice. But Jesus has not yet taught and preached or called his disciples. It’s a retreat time, a preparation time for him. He takes this journey into the wilderness as a last time apart before a three year period of ministry that will bring him relentlessly closer to the cross, to his death. Jesus follows the Spirit of God to the wilderness, “to be tempted by the devil” we’re told. He fasts for 40 days and nights, and is weak and famished.

With Jesus in this vulnerable state, another voice calls to Jesus. We read that the tempter comes to him and says, “If you are the Son of God, command these stones to become loaves of bread.” Jesus responds with scripture: “One does not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of God.” So the devil takes Jesus to the pinnacle of the temple, and tells him to throw himself down, quoting scriptures right back at Jesus: “if you are the Son of God, throw yourself down, for it is written, their hands will bear you up, so that you will not dash your foot against a stone.” Jesus responds that the scripture says we’re not to put God to the test. Finally, the devil takes Jesus to a mountain peak, and offers Jesus all the kingdoms he can see if only Jesus will worship the devil.” But Jesus sends him away, saying, “it is written, ‘Worship the Lord your God, and serve only [God.]’” Finally, the devil departs, unsuccessful in his quest to lead Jesus off God’s path.

The voice of the devil tempts Jesus with power. Jesus has power, of course. But what kind of power does Jesus have, and how does Jesus use it? How does the voice of the devil want Jesus to use his power? That’s what’s at stake in this passage. I’ve always struggled with the story of Jesus’ temptation because what the devil offers Jesus doesn’t seem very tempting for Jesus. Jesus already has the power to do what the devil offers. We see Jesus multiply loaves and make water into wine. We see at the end of this passage that angels attend to him. We know that Jesus could be an earthly king if he chose – he talks about this frequently in the gospels. What’s so tempting for him in this passage, since the devil doesn’t ask Jesus to do anything that it is outside of his power to do already?

I think they are tempting to Jesus because they are easy for him, and they would directly benefit Jesus, no one else, and they wouldn’t cost Jesus in the way that the path Jesus is on will cost him. What the devil offers is what Jesus already has and already can do, but in a short-cut way that corrupts and twists. It’s the easy way, what the devil offers, and the easy way is always alluring, isn’t it? What the devil asks Jesus to do is to forget who he is, what he is called to do, whose child he is, what his purpose is. Jesus knows what he’s come for – but the devil is trying to convince him that he can get essentially the same things in a supposedly easier way. And that, I think, is the true temptation, the temptation that shows Jesus to be one of us, the temptation that Jesus withstands and calls us to withstand too.  

I think that the biggest temptations we face are not temptations that would lead us to break one of the ten commandments for instance, though of course these things can all be tough temptations. I think the biggest temptation is the temptation to forget – to forget who we are, and what “who we are” means. It is easy to listen to the voices that ell us to think more of what benefits us than what will help others. It is easier to be comfortable than to be challenged. It is easier to just glide along in life without really making an attempt to follow Jesus and live as he lived. To be “basically nice people” instead of being disciples – I think this is the biggest temptation we face. We’re tempted to forget that we’re beloved children of God, created uniquely, and created with a purpose, to love and to serve God and one another.   

In the end, what God has in store for Jesus and what the devil seems to offer to Jesus aren’t that different from one another. The devil offers Jesus power and rule of kingdoms, but this is already what Jesus has as God’s child, even if it is not in the way that the devil imagines. If both God and Satan are making the same promises to us – how can we tell whose voice is whose? Think of two stones: diamonds, and cubic zirconium. They can look pretty similar, if you’re not looking carefully enough. But one stone is highly valuable, while another is thought of as a cheap imitation. That’s what we have to do with our temptations: remember that one path is worthwhile, and the other will only offer a cheap imitation of the life that we can have with God. Telling them apart – that’s probably easier than we think, even if we don’t like the answer. I’ve generally found in my own life, that God’s voice, God’s promises, God’s path – these things usually involve doing something that I don’t want to do, don’t feel prepared to do, don’t like doing, am afraid to do, am reluctant to do, something that is harder, requires me to give, to risk, to go against the flow, to work with people I don’t like – but ultimately fills my life in a way nothing else can. Following the alternative path – the imitation path - is usually easier – requires less thought. Has more immediate rewards. Lets you shut others out. And ultimately, leaves that empty feeling in the pit of your stomach. That feeling that your life is missing something essential. That feeling that despite having money, or possessions, or security, or whatever else you bargained for – you’re still coming up short – still unsatisfied.

We might wish for a way to solve the world's problems, to actually turn stones into bread, to cure problems like hunger and disease. Instead, God calls us to work to feed our neighbor, clothe the naked, visit the sick: not by magic powers, but with our own two hands, our own time, our own resources. We might wish that we could control the nations of this world, so that everything could be done our way, even a good way. Instead, God call us to work for peace, to build relationships, to go through long and difficult dialogues across racial, ethnic, and global boundaries, to see our neighbors near and far. We might wish that God would give us a sign, proof of existence, proof of care for us, a map of our future blessings. Instead, God reminds us evidence of God's existence is all around us - it is our discipleship that needs to be tested more often than not!

Today, voices offer us tempting promises and a huge amount of power. Both the voice of God and the voice of evil promise to give us more than we can imagine. Both will give us and expect us to use power. Both promise us a full, abundant life. But only one deal can live up to our expectations. Only one path can satisfy the deepest longings of our heart. Which voice will you listen to? Which path will you choose?

Jesus calls us to resist the temptation to underestimate ourselves, to think that we can't make change without taking the easy path offered by the devil. The forty days of Lent we take as a journey with Jesus in the wilderness. God has blessed us so greatly that when we journey with Jesus we can do amazing things. We can change the world. We can change lives. We can bring joy. We can end pain. We can share God. We can challenge the status quo. We can tear down walls of oppression. We can change ourselves. That's a lot of ability that God has given into such faulty creatures. So much potential to do what is wrong, what is evil, what is easy, what is tempting. Yet so much potential to do what is challenging, what is difficult, what is right, what is good, what is demanded and required of us by our Creator. God is speaking. Are you listening?

Amen.