Festival of Homiletics: Walter Brueggemann

Day two at the Festival of Homiletics included two appearances by Walter Brueggemann, who is one of my favorite theologians. He's so brilliant and compelling, and it was a delight to hear him again in person. We were told that this would be his last appearance as a Festival speaker, and since Brueggemann is 85, it seems reasonable that he might want to slow down on his speaking engagements. I felt especially blessed with the opportunity to hear him, then. He both preached and lectured, although with preachers, it is hard to tell the difference!

His sermon was called “Meat, Anxiety, and Injustice," using 1 Kings 4:20-28, 9:15-19 and Luke 12:13-31 as texts. Brueggemann talked about how high taxes and low wages for peasants meant lots of meat for Solomon. He had huge places to store his wealth. He still didn't have enough - he wanted more and more, a relentless carnivore who lets his greed fuel his anxiety and his anxiety justify violence.

Jesus's story about bigger barns could be about Solomon, Brueggemann said. The main had extra grain. He could have shared it. Let the land lie fallow. But instead he stores it up. He wants more. He doesn't have enough yet. He congratulates himself. And then he died. He was about to do good. About to share. About to be generous. But he died. "He could not end off the holy reckoning in the night."

So, what's it about? Jesus tells us: "Get out of the anxiety system, because it will kill you. You will pursue the goal of more until you die because more is an illusion. It is a system meant to keep us frightened that someone will get yours. It keeps us dissatisfied, keeps us busy, because if you are busy, you won’t think any dangerous thoughts."

Can any of you, Jesus asks, by participating in the anxiety system enhance your life? No!

The Good News: there is an alternative to the anxiety system! God has been supplying all creation already with fresh water! All creation knows this, says Brueggemann, but we’re the only ones who instead think that more is better.

Photo by Daniel Sheehan

Brueggemann said, "We can’t do justice when we’re anxious. The regime of anxiety is fake news. Our anxiety does not add a nanosecond to the well-being of our life." What if ministry is the call to refuse survival anxiety and budget anxiety and pension anxiety? Jesus calls us to be disciples away from the table of much meat. To love Jesus more than these.

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Brueggemann's lecture was titled "The Joker Amid Class Warfare." My notes from this lecture are mostly unedited. It was just so. much. I was typing as fast as I could!

8 theses, 2 texts, 5 conclusions

Eight theses: 

1. The justice agenda is participation in class warfare that requires imagination and movement beyond our comfort zones. 
2. Class warfare is characteristically waged from above by the powerful haves. 
3. Many people in mainline congregations have sympathy for the class ware that is waged from above. We’ve learned to the read the bible so that the issues of class warfare are not noticed, and lectionary mostly leaves them out. 
4. Combatants in class warfare from above mostly do not want it noticed or talked about and when they’re raised from below the predictable reaction from those above is that those below are waging class warfare! 
5. Much of the Bible is preoccupied with class warfare. Moses/Pharaoh. Between kings who preside over surplus, and prophets who promote justice. It is not different in NT, where Jesus is representative of subsistence farmers of Galilee, and has to go to Jerusalem to be judged/condemned by Rome. 
6. The church when energized by scripture is an apt arena for the conduct of class warfare. In fact, only place that can be spoken about seriously. Contradicts our need for “nice” spirituality. Not necessarily abrasive and confronting, but needs to teach about theses conflicts of interest. 
7. Class warfare always features two combatants: the powerful and the vulnerable, the haves, and have-nots, the rich whites and poor people of color. Is unequal because the interest of vulnerable have-nots is not explicit, is not organized, or recognized as legitimate force. From above: well-articulated, well organized, well mobilized, regarded as legitimate.  
8. The good news in the gospel narrative is that there is a third participant in the dispute about justice: the God of the Exodus, parent of Jesus Christ. This particular, peculiar God is NOT neutral or indifferent, but has taken sides in the struggle for justice.

"Unless the pastors of the church help summon Yahweh to participate in class warfare, we know we will not win." 

Two texts: Psalm 10: A map of justice advocacy, calling Yahweh back to involvement in the world. 

The voice from below is unembarrassed, does not ask politely, gives God big imperative: Rise up! Notice us! Don’t forget us! "Praying for miracles is so different than the social justice prayers progressives pray that expect NOTHING." 

The Joker God is the third participant in the struggle for justice. A third party is in play, summoned by the poor who have no other advocate. And then the map of justice is radically altered, world is open to radical resolve. Jesus comes to make “effective room” for God. 

Luke 18:1-8: Jesus says, "If you pray this way, you won’t lose heart." Meek, timid prayers are a sign of having lost heart. 

Judge: "The only way I can get rid of her is to give her justice, so I gave her justice!" Do you think God will long justice if you cry out day and night?

I wonder, says Jesus/editor, if there will be people capable of such prayer? I wonder if there will be the capacity to summon the joker. A question left unanswered. Left for us to answer. Faith is the resolve not to give in to the low ceiling. The resolve that the holy must be summoned, has not been nullified. "The agency of God matters decisively, but that agency must be summoned." 

Psalms are addressed to God, but designed to be overheard. Psalm 10 both shames and recruits the congregation. A strategic maneuver to redraw the map of injustice, to include the Holy Joker who does Easter. 

Five Conclusions: 

1. In good creation, everything works for good. And the haves and have-nots are engaged in neighborliness. All work for the common good. 
2. When the Creator God is silent or asleep or indifferent, the powerful are free to occupy the space of creation in ways that prey upon the vulnerable. Good creation requires sustained attentiveness of Creator or the wicked will occupy that space. 
3. The poor dare to summon God back into the enterprise of creation confident that when God can be mobilized God can be restored. (Psalm 44) Rouse yourself! Why do you sleep! Awake! Come to our help. Redeem us. Act for the sake of your tenacious solidarity (steadfast love.) We don’t use this psalm because we have trimmed God down – it is too much of an affront – so how can we summon God back to justice struggle? 
4. It is the work of the church and its pastors to pray without ceasing, to be an engaged friend of the court, to file petitions on behalf of others, uncompromising intercessions, unaccommodating imperatives. (Psalm 88) It is the vulnerable who bear the brunt of the failure to tell the truth, but they have allies in the psalter, the church, when we are not derelict in our duty. 
5. When God is summoned back into play, neighbors can be together in a shared well-being that is the work of evangelical justice. (Psalm 133) Good neighborliness yields abundance in contrast to the scarcity produced by predation. Justice is a theological matter that concerns the character of God and our relationship with God.

Sermon, "Elijah in the Wilderness," 1 Kings 19:1-16

Sermon 3/16/18

1 Kings 19:1-16

Elijah in the Wilderness

            Today, in our last Sunday of Lent before we begin our Holy Week journey, we turn our attention to the prophet Elijah and his time in the wilderness. Elijah is kind of an enigmatic figure in the Bible. We don’t know very much about him. He just sort of starts appearing in the story in the midst of 1 Kings, ready to take on Ahab, King of Israel. Ahab is leading Israel astray. In fact, in Chapter 16 of 1 Kings we read that “Ahab … did evil in the sight of the Lord more than all who were before him,” which is saying something, since the books of Kings recount a long line of kings who didn’t follow God. Ahab marries Jezebel, a daughter of a neighboring king and a priestess of Baal. And Ahab, too, begins to serve Baal, the idol-god of area Canaanite religion. He worships Baal and builds an altar for Baal and all of this, we read, kindles God’s anger at Ahab more than God had ever been angry at all the kings before him.

And then, Elijah appears on the scene. Unlike some of the other prophets of the Bible, there is no book of Elijah. We don’t have any of his writings. But it is Elijah to whom Jesus and others refer, along with Moses, to symbolize the law and the prophets. His place in Israel’s history is hugely significant, even though he appears for just these few brief chapters in 1 Kings. Jezebel has been having prophets of God killed. She’s basically seeking to execute any prophets of God who speak against her, Ahab, their god Baal, and the prophets of Baal. So Elijah sets up a confrontation – Elijah verses hundreds of prophets of Baal. Through a series of tests, Elijah shows that Baal is false and his prophets are false while God is ever faithful. The people fall to their knees, worshiping God, and Elijah seizes all the prophets of Baal and has them killed. When Ahab tells Jezebel what happened, she seeks to capture and kill Elijah.

That’s where our scene for today begins. Elijah is afraid, and he’s on the run, fearing for his life. He journeys into the wilderness and sits under a solitary tree. He asks God to let him die. Tired, hungry, dehydrated, he falls asleep. But a messenger of God touches him and wakes him saying, “Get up and eat.” Elijah sees food and water prepared for him. He eats, and sleeps again. The scene is repeated, with the messenger telling Elijah, “Get up and eat, otherwise the journey will be too much for you.” He eats and drinks again, and he’s given strength for his forty -day journey to the mount of God. He spends the night in a cave, and God’s voice comes to him, asking, “What are you doing here, Elijah?” “I have been very zealous for the Lord, the God of hosts; for the Israelites have forsaken your covenant, thrown down your altars, and killed your prophets with the sword. I alone am left, and they are seeking my life, to take it away.” God replies, “Go out and stand on the mountain, for God is about to pass by.” There’s a great wind. But God is not in the wind. Then an earthquake. But God is not in the earthquake. Then a fire. But God is not in the fire. And then the sound of sheer silence. Elijah steps out from the cave, and God asks again, “What are you doing, Elijah?” Elijah repeats his complaint. And God tells him to go and anoint a new king. God tells Elijah that Elijah will anoint his successor, a new prophet, Elisha, to follow in his place, and that there will still be seven thousand Israelites who have not worshipped Baal, but instead remain faithful to God.

If our scripture today reminds you of some of the other texts we’ve been studying this Lent, that’s good – it should! Like Hagar, Elijah is fleeing from danger. Like Hagar, and like Jonah, who we talked about at our midweek Lenten study this week, Elijah ends up sitting under a tree, forlorn, feeling pretty sorry for himself. Like Moses, Elijah has been trying to lead people and be faithful to God and ends up feeling overwhelmed. Like Moses, Elijah heads to a mountain in the wilderness when he is seeking a word from God in the midst of his turmoil. In fact, it is the very same mountain, although we hear it called by different names. Elijah’s Mount Horeb and Moses’ Mount Sinai are one and the same. And for both Moses and Elijah, the mountain in the wilderness is a place where they encounter God, and find strength for the journey. Just as for Moses, the strength Elijah receives comes in the presence of God revealed. For Moses, he got to look on God’s back, to see where God had passed by. For Elijah, God comes in the silence.

            Last week, when we celebrated the life of Lucy Brassard, her family asked that we include a period of silence during the burial. I’d never had anyone ask me for that before, but Lucy’s son Matt explained that having silent time with God was an important part of Lucy’s spiritual life. So as we laid Lucy to rest, we spent some time in silence, taking a break from words, quieting our spirits. I still remember with crisp clarity the power of God-filled silence I experienced one year at Camp Aldersgate. My youth group had gone to Aldersgate for a winter retreat weekend. It was a sunny day, and the whole camp was blanketed in snow. Our youth group, junior and senior high kids, we’d all gone for a walk in the woods behind one of the sections of cabins. My friends were goofing around, but I walked just a little farther, to a small boat launch on Brantingham Lake. The Lake was frozen over, covered in snow like everything else, and the sun was shining on the snow. And the silence was palpable. I felt God’s presence deeply, in the silence. I don’t remember a particular message from God, but I remember being filled with a sense of peace that I carried with me.

            I sometimes long for that peaceful, God-filled silence. Early in my adult life, I developed a kind of tinnitus called pulsatile tinnitus. It’s when you hear a pulsing that seems to match your heartbeat in your ear. It is most noticeable at night, when everything is quiet, and suddenly the pulsing seems very, very loud. When it first started, my doctor had me go through all sorts of tests to rule out possible causes, and everything checked out. My hearing was fine, my blood was flowing fine, my brain was fine! Sometimes that happens with tinnitus. No identifiable cause. The solution was pretty simple: Nighttime is usually the only time that the pulsing bothers me, and so now, for years, I always sleep with a fan on. But I really miss being able to enjoy deep silence. It makes my heart a little sad to need some kind of noise. And it feels like a great big metaphor for our world, our lives, our society. It isn’t always easy to do: just be silent. Silence is powerful, and it can make us uncomfortable.

            It’s like we can’t function without noise. Like we have to have a constant stream of chatter coming at us otherwise we’ll be left alone with our own thoughts, and we just can’t handle that. I wonder if we can hear God in the midst of the noise. People sometimes lament that God is silent, but Elijah’s experience tells us that God is sometimes speaking in the silence. But if we cover up the silence with our own noise, how will we hear? Part of the reason why we need wilderness time, why we have to intentionally take our spirits to risky, vulnerable places is so that we can find a space for God-laden silence.

            Elijah makes his complaint to God twice. He says both before and after God’s revealing in the sheer silence: “I have been very zealous for you God, very passionate in my service to you. The Israelites have all turned away from you, and killed your prophets. And I’m the only prophet left, and they want to kill me too.” And from the silence, God answers Elijah. We hear the first part of God’s response in our reading today, but the sum of it is basically this: God says, “You don’t have it quite right, Elijah. There are in fact still thousands of faithful Israelites, who have never worshiped other Gods. And also, you aren’t the only prophet. There is a prophet named Elisha that you will name as the prophet in your place. And also, I still have work for you to do. Go, and appoint a new king in the place of Ahab.” I really love God’s response, and all the things God manages to say in a few short sentences. God lets Elijah know that in his fear, he’s not seeing things quite clearly. The situation seems completely bleak to Elijah, but God knows that it is not. God also doesn’t let Elijah off the hook. Even though Elijah says he’s done, God says, “Yes, but I’m not done with you.” And God reminds Elijah that he is not alone. I think this is both an encouragement to Elijah and a gentle chastisement. Sometimes when we’re trying so hard to follow God, and we feel discouraged and face setbacks, we become convinced that we are the only ones who are trying to do what is right in God’s eyes. God reminds Elijah, and reminds us, that there are others – both Israelites, and prophets like Elisha, who serve God too. Elijah isn’t alone, and if he can remember that, he won’t feel like he has nowhere left to turn, no hope. Elijah isn’t the only one in the wilderness. Neither are we.

I’ve mentioned before that I took a sabbatical year from pastoral ministry. Pastors are able to take time away from an appointment to a local church periodically for study, renewal, training, and reflection. I was finishing up a particularly challenging appointment to a local church, and I decided to apply for a sabbatical year. The thought of immediately heading to a new congregation to be the pastor, connecting to a new congregation, mustering the energy it would take to start fresh – it was overwhelming. I couldn’t do it. So I applied for a sabbatical year, intending to do some research, and explore the themes of charity and justice that are so important to me. But I will confess: I didn’t think I’d go back to a local church, to being a church pastor, after my year off. I felt like I had been worn down to nothing. I felt like I had nothing left to give as a pastor. I felt for the first time like maybe I was no longer called to ministry, or like the season of my call had ended. I’d had tough times before, but I’d never felt like that: like I was done being a pastor. But that’s how I was feeling when I applied for sabbatical. I don’t want to be overdramatic: everywhere I’ve served I’ve been blessed by wonderful parishioners. But something about this appointment just seemed to drain me emotionally, spiritually, and physically, and I felt done. And I tried, really hard, with a lot of energy and dedication in the year that followed, to figure out a different way to serve God with my life other than being a pastor.

            But the answer I got from God? Nope: You can serve me by being a pastor, just like I said. While I was on sabbatical, I kept serving as a pastor, which seems a little crazy. But I served there quarter time – just enough time to preach and do some pastoral care, really. But enough time to never really stop being a pastor. And in that time, that time when I insisted I didn’t have it in me to be a pastor anymore, God reminded me that I’d never stopped being one, and that my call was still my call, and that God wasn’t done with me yet. God set me in a congregation that I couldn’t help but grow to love, and I found myself as part of a meaningful covenant group of pastors who strengthened and encouraged me. God built up my spirit again during that time when I had a different rhythm of life and ministry, and helped me emerge from the wilderness refreshed and restored. God wasn’t done, I wasn’t done, and God had not left me alone. 

            Elijah says he’s done with being a prophet. Done, in fact, with living in the world altogether if it is a world where he’s going to be hunted down by angry rulers. But God comes to Elijah in the wilderness, not without compassion, but nonetheless, what God basically tells Elijah is: “Nope, you’re not done. But I will give you some bread for the journey, some life, some hope, so that you can make it through. And so Elijah finds himself with a full stomach, with a plan of action, with another prophet in Elisha who will become like a son to him, and with hope for the future.

            When have you felt “done”? Maybe you feel like that right now! Like you can’t possibly continue on from here. Like everything hard that has come your way is just too much. I do believe that sometimes God is leading us in new directions, leading us to new things. But I promise this: God is not done with you, and God is not done with the work, the call, the mission, the journey that God has for you. So, get up and eat! Nourish your spirit, or the journey will be too much. Make sure you are letting God feed your soul. Make sure you aren’t ignoring what God sets before you to strengthen you. From the silence, God is speaking to you. Amen.

Sermon for Fifth Sunday after Pentecost, Year C, "Missional: The Journey," 1 Kings 19:1-18 (Proper 7, Ordinary 12)

Sermon 6/19/16

1 Kings 19:1-18

Missional: The Journey

Today we pop into the Hebrew Scriptures to the book of First Kings. We’re coming in kind of in the middle of a story here, but nonetheless, this reading from the lectionary just grabbed at me as I thought about everything happening in our world and everything happening right here at Apple Valley. We come into the story here in Chapter 19, but things have been unfolding for several chapters already. First and Second Kings chronicle a period in the history of Israel and Judah when a line of kings, starting with King Saul, ruled the people, after they had long clamored for an earthly king - not just God as ruler - so that they could be more like other nations. First and Second Kings testify to the fact that having a king is not all that God’s people hoped it would be. Some kings are faithful servants of God, but others “do what is evil in the sight of the Lord,” according to the author. And among those evil kings is King Ahab. In fact, back in Chapter 16, we read that “Ahab … did evil in the sight of the Lord more than all who were before him.” He marries Jezebel, a daughter of a neighboring king and a priestess of Baal. Ahab, too, begins to serve Baal, the idol god of area Canaanite religion. He worships Baal and builds an altar for Baal and all of this, we read, kindles God’s anger at Ahab more than God had ever been angry at all the kings before him.

And then, Elijah appears on the scene. We know almost nothing about where Elijah came from, who he is, other than that he’s a prophet of God and he seems set on countering Ahab, Jezebel, and the false idol they worship. He starts by causing a drought to come upon Israel. We heard a brief mention of Elijah in our gospel lesson a couple of weeks ago when Jesus was pointing out how it was a widow who was not an Israelite that Elijah stayed with during the drought - this is that occasion. Elijah causes the drought to try to force Ahab to reexamine his life and actions, and while the drought is taking place, Elijah stays with the widow of Zarephath. After three years of this, Elijah presents himself to King Ahab. In the meantime, Jezebel has been having prophets of God killed. She’s basically seeking to execute any prophets of God who speak against her, Ahab, their god Baal, and the prophets of Baal. So Elijah sets up a confrontation - he is alone left among the prophets of God, and there are hundreds of prophets of Baal. He tells Ahab he must choose once and for all who he will follow, asking, “How long will you go limping with two different opinions? If the Lord is God, follow him; but if Baal, then follow him.” No one answers. So, through a series of tests, Elijah shows that Baal is false and his prophets are false while God is ever faithful. The people fall to their knees, worshiping God, and Elijah seizes all the prophets of Baal and has them killed. But Ahab tells Jezebel what happened, and she seeks to capture and kill Elijah.

That’s where our scene for today finally begins. Elijah is afraid, and he’s on the run, fearing for his life. He journeys into the wilderness, a desert place, and sits under a solitary tree. He asks God to let him die, saying, “I’m no better than my ancestors.” Tired, hungry, dehydrated, he falls asleep. But a messenger of God touches him and wakes him saying, “Get up and eat.” Elijah sees food and water prepared for him. He eats, and sleeps again. The scene is repeated, with the messenger telling Elijah, “Get up and eat, otherwise the journey will be too much for you.” He eats and drinks again, and he’s given strength for his 40 days journey to the mount of God.

He spends the night in a cave, and God’s voice comes to him, asking, “What are you doing here, Elijah?” “I have been very zealous for the Lord, the God of hosts; for the Israelites have forsaken your covenant, thrown down your altars, and killed your prophets with the sword. I alone am left, and they are seeking my life, to take it away.” He sounds weary, doesn’t he? Forlorn. Exhausted. Out of ideas and out of energy. God replies, “Go out and stand on the mountain, for God is about to pass by.” The particular phrasing - when God passes by like this in the scriptures - it means that God and God’s glory is going to be revealed in a special way. There’s a great wind. But God is not in the wind. Then an earthquake. But God is not in the earthquake. Then a fire. But God is not in the fire. And then the sound of sheer silence. Elijah steps out from the cave, and God asks again, “What are you doing, Elijah?” Elijah repeats his complaint. And God tells him to go and anoint a new king. God tells Elijah that Elijah will anoint his successor, a new prophet, Elisha, to follow in his place, and that there will still be seven thousand Israelites who have not worshipped Baal, but instead remain faithful to God.

I have to tell you, when I first looked ahead to the lectionary for what I knew would be my last Sunday here, to see if I wanted to use a scheduled text, or choose one of my own, I dismissed the chosen passages immediately, not seeing anything that spoke to our theme of Missional Apple Valley, our own context here in transition, or the broader real-world situation. But last Sunday, early in the morning, a gunman attacked Pulse Orlando, killing 49 people, injuring another 50 beyond that. The victims were primarily people in the LGBT community and their friends. The man who committed the murders was a Muslim man, possibly connected to or at least supportive of the extremist ISIS regime. And the crime was committed with recently purchased semi-automatic weapons that do great damage in an incredibly short amount of time. This horrible tragedy came less than a month after the close of the 2016 General Conference of The United Methodist Church, where delegates decided to study possible solutions to our seemingly insurmountable conflict over human sexuality and the church and how we will include - or limit - the full participation of all people in the life of The United Methodist Church. I don’t know about you - but the combination of these things, combined with the hateful tenor of our current electoral cycle in the United States, combined with my upcoming move - it has had me feeling pretty weary. Pretty overwhelmed. I know others feel the same. I’ve seen people quoting Psalm 13: “How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever? How long will you hide your face from me? How long must I bear pain in my soul, and have sorrow in my heart all day long? How long shall my enemy be exalted over me?” In the face of tragedy and in the face of injustice upon injustice and in the face of a journey that seems too long and too hard, it is easy to feel like we’re losing ground, not gaining it, when it comes to our mission, our purpose of announcing the good news of God’s vision of love and justice and right relationships for the whole world.

With all this in my heart, suddenly the text from 1 Kings seemed perfectly placed. Elijah is so weary. He’s so weary of fighting against evil and on God’s behalf, of staying faithful to God’s call - so weary that he asks God to let him just give up. He’s done enough, after all. And people are literally chasing after him so they can kill him, like they’ve killed all the other prophets. It’s too much. He sits under a lonely tree, ready to die. But God finds him there, as God always does. Elijah is just one of many folks in the scripture that wind up at their wit’s end under a tree, and God always sends aid. He gets food, strength for the journey. And he makes it up the mountain to talk to God. God is in the fire sometimes, and the earthquake, and the raging wind. But this time God comes after the sound of sheer silence. Elijah repeats his weary woes to God. And God responds. There will be a new king - Ahab and his reign of evil is finite. It seems unending, but he will not be king forever. Elijah will anoint a new prophet. Elijah has worked hard for God, but he is not God’s only prophet. He is one in a line of prophets, working for God, and that line of prophets will continue after Elijah is done. God always raises up people to do God’s work. And finally, God reminds Elijah that no matter how bad it seems, there are many, many people who remain faithful to God. We know what God can do with the smallest amount of things. Imagine what God can build out of seven thousand faithful people. After our reading for today, Elijah is able to finish his work with less fear and more hope in his heart, because God has reminded him that even though we see but a part, God is relentless in working for justice, in spreading love, in offering grace, in cultivating new life.

Friends, that is my prayer for us too, in the world, here at Apple Valley, in our hearts. We are all on a journey, even if I am the one moving away. We’re on a journey of faith and discipleship as we seek to shape our lives to reflect ever more clearly God’s hopes and dreams for us and for the world. And sometimes that journey is so hard. It seems like everything is uphill and parched dry ground and we are so weary. God gives us a gentle reminder, spoken out of the silence: we are not the center of the universe, and that’s a good thing. We are a part of the body of Christ. But we’re a part. We have our place in line in the great cloud of witnesses whom God has raised up before us and who will surely come after us, as we each carry out the call, the task the God has set for us, in our place, in our time. I am so thankful that for this precious time, these two  years, our journeys were in sync. You have been like food for my empty stomach, a cold drink for my parched soul, and you have given me strength to follow God on the path that unfolds before us. I know that you will continue to be that - you can’t seem to help but be the loving, grace-filled, open-armed people that you are - even as you set off in new company, on your own new path. Here, and there, God is with us always. Amen.

Sermon, "Dreaming: The Wisdom of Solomon," 1 Kings 3:1-15

Sermon 5/3/15

1 Kings 3:1-15

Dreaming: The Wisdom of Solomon

            Many of us have probably heard scenarios or seen film clips or Disney movies or been asked some variation of a question like this: You find a magic lamp and a genie appears telling you you have three wishes. What do you wish for? Of course, I’ve always thought your first wish should be to ask for unlimited wishes! But sometimes in these stories we discover a bit of a morality tale – the wisher asks for something selfish, or foolish, or doesn’t realize that wishing always comes with a price, like in the short story “The Monkey’s Paw,” where the wish for 200 pounds is granted through the death of the wisher’s son, or the story where the man wishes for sausages, and then wishes the sausages attached to his wife’s nose, since she made fun of his wish, and then finally has to use his third wish to remove the sausages. But all of these stories share the basic question: if you could wish for anything what would you ask for?

            We stumble on a Biblical version of that question in our reading for today, as we look at another dream in the Old Testament, this time skipping ahead to 1 Kings. The books of 1 and 2 Kings recount a period in Israel’s history after the time of the judges when Israel becomes a monarchy. God had wanted the people to rely on only God as their king, but the people kept clamoring to be like other nations. So God let them have a king. Only, the first round didn’t go so well. Saul was the first king, and though he started out well, eventually the power seemed to go to his head, and Samuel, the prophet, next anointed David to be the king. David is remembered as the favorite of all the kings of Israel; the standard to which all other kings would be held; the “good old days” of Israel.

            It is not David’s oldest child who succeeds him, but instead Solomon, child of David and Bathsheba, the wife of Uriah the Hitite. Remember, David had Uriah killed in battle so that he wouldn’t find out that David had had an affair with Bathsheba, who then became pregnant. That child died, but after a period of mourning and repentance, David and Bathsheba had more children together, including Solomon. When David is near death, Bathsheba and the prophet Nathan urge David to select Solomon as the new king.

            During his reign, David had wanted to build a temple, a “home” for God. But God told David this task would not be his, but his son’s. Now, after a tumultuous transition of power, Solomon is king. We’re told that Solomon loves God and follows God just as his father David tried to do. He makes offerings to God at the high places. In the context of this passage, this means literally the highest places in the area – these places were considered holy, where you could literally be closer to God. So Solomon regularly worshipped God at the high places. At one such place, Gibeon, after making an offering to God, God appears to Solomon in a dream. God says to Solomon, “ask what I should give you.” And Solomon replies: you were always with my father David, who was just and upright and faithful. And now I’m king, but I’m inexperienced, and I don’t know much about governing this great people of yours. So give me understanding to discern between good and bad so I can lead your people.” God is pleased with Solomon’s request, and not only says Solomon will receive wisdom, but also riches and long-life as well. And then we read, “Then Solomon awoke; it had been a dream.” But Solomon offers more acts of worship to God, and treats all of his servants to a feast. Just after our text today, we see Solomon’s wisdom in action, as he deals justly and with a discerning mind to the conflicts his people bring to him. 

            What do you think of this exchange between God and Solomon? If we just told God what we wanted, would God say yes? Some people, I think, view God as a sort of genie in a magic lamp, who whimsically approves or denies wishes depending on God’s mood, sort of like a temperamental Magic 8 Ball. Have you seen the Jim Carrey movie Bruce Almighty? Although it is a comedy, I think there are some interesting theological points in the movie. In one scene, Bruce, who gets to take on all God’s power and responsibilities for a brief time – is answering all the email prayer requests that come to God. Bruce thinks it will be so easy. But he soon gets frustrated trying to keep up with the millions of requests individually, so he just replies “yes” to all the requests. You’d think that would be great, right? Everyone’s requests to God answered with a “yes, sure, whatever you want!” But in the film, when everyone gets a “yes,” the results bring total chaos. For example, everyone who prays to win the lottery does – but since so many people win, everyone gets only $1 or so, and everyone is upset, not happy. The point is: God responding to our needs is maybe more complicated than we humans can understand.

            Still, here’s the question I think is more important: Do we believe that God wants to know our heart’s desire? Does God want to know what we want? Does God want to know what our dreams are? When I think about our hopes and dreams and how God answers our prayers, I think the image of God as our parent is so very powerful. Parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles, by blood or by gift of the heart: do you want to know what the children in your life want? Do you want to know their heart’s desire? Do you want to know what they dream about doing and being and becoming? Of course, right? But despite that unconditional love, you, in your wisdom, won’t always grant every request. In fact, because of your love, you won’t say “yes” to every request. But when you hear the deep longings, the true expression of the heart’s desire of the child in your life – wouldn’t you seek to do everything you could to help that dream come true? Wouldn’t your child’s dream fill you with joy?

            I believe that God wants to know everything about us. Sure, God knows us already. But God loves best, I think, when we open ourselves up to God, when we let our hopes and joys and dreams and fears and doubts be known of our own accord. And when God knows that what we’re dreaming will bring us life, and will bring love and light to others, I believe that God responds to us like God responds to Solomon – fulfilling in us what we’ve imagined and beyond. 

            And so then the question is left up to us: Do we know what we really want? If God came to us like God did to Solomon and said, “Ask for what you want,” what would you ask for? Maybe your first impulse is to ask for a million dollars, or that new car that you always wanted. But is that your heart’s desire, truly? In our book study text, Dare to Dream, Michael Slaughter tells us our God-purpose in life is something that honors God, blesses other people, and brings us joy – all three of those things. Honors God. Blesses others. Brings you joy. What might do that in your life? I promise, God wants to know how you might answer that question. God wants to help you answer it if you can’t. And I believe that God wants to say “yes” to that dream for you. And then astonish you by how much beyond even that dream God will draw out of your life.

            God is saying to you: “Ask what I should give you.” How will you answer? I think God would love to know. Amen.   

Sermon, "Resurrection Stories: Widow's Son," 1 Kings 17:17-24

Sermon 5/4/2014

1 Kings 17:17-24

Resurrection Stories – Widow’s Son

            We’re continuing to look at Resurrection Stories in the scriptures as we move through the Great Fifty Days of Easter – did you know that’s one of the titles of this season? Not just the fifty days of Easter – but the Great Fifty Days of Easter. What greater thing can we celebrate than the power of resurrection? So we’re looking at Resurrection Stories in the Bible, and we’re hoping that they will stir up in us reminders of or motivation for or anticipation of the resurrection stories that take place in our own lives. In fact I spoke to someone just this week who is about to make some major changes in her life that will give her new life, that will resurrect her in amazing ways. I could feel the sense of hope and possibility in our midst just from listening to her talk about her plans. Resurrection, the new life God wants to give us, is so powerful.

            Today we find ourselves in 1 Kings, following the prophet Elijah. Our text today starts kind of in the middle of the scene, so let’s give ourselves some context. We’re in the 9^th Century in First Kings, one of the books of history in the Bible, during the reign of King Ahab. In other words, this passage takes place a few hundred years before the text we read about Ezekiel and the dry bones last Sunday. King Ahab allowed the worship of a foreign god in the palace, building a temple for Baal, and allowing Jezebel, his wife, a princess from Phoenicia, to bring a large entourage of priests and prophets of Baal and Asherah into the country. In other words, Ahab was allowing idolatry to take place, in fact, encouraging idolatry, worship of other gods, right in his very own home. Obviously, this was breaking the law of Moses, the Ten Commandments, the most important of the commandments – love God – worship only God – in a big way. “Hear O Israel, the Lord our God is one.”

Elijah then appears suddenly on the scene. We don’t really know who he is or anything about him. We don’t know his background or his role in the society or why anyone would listen to anything he has to say. His name, Elijah, literally means, “My God is Yahweh.” So Elijah may actually be a title applied to him rather than his given name. But we don’t know anything else. So this Elijah appears on the scene and takes a number of bold, confrontational actions. It starts with Elijah declaring to Ahab that there will be a long drought because of Ahab’s idolatrous practices. Elijah delivers that news, and then gets out of town fast, at God’s command. God keeps Elijah alive despite the drought, eventually sending him to a widow in Zarephath. Zarephath was a town in Phoenicia – a town in a foreign land, a place where folks worshipped Baal. Elijah asks the widow for food and water, but the woman says she has only a very little. Elijah tells her not to worry, the God of Israel will not let the meal or oil fail, but it will provide enough for Elijah, the widow, and her son, until the drought ends. And it is just so – they survive. But then, as our text opens today, seemingly unrelated to the drought, the widow’s son falls ill and dies.

The widow pleads with Elijah, calling him a man of God who has “brought her sin to remembrance” and caused her son’s death. In other words, the woman feels that Elijah’s God, Yahweh, must be angry that she does not worship Yahweh. Elijah has called attention to her by staying with her, and she’s being punished. Elijah in turn pleads with God, essentially saying, “God, listen, you can’t put me in this sticky situations, so help me out.” Elijah prays over the son, “Let this child’s life come into him again.” And the child is alive again, and Elijah brings him downstairs to his mother. And she says, “‘Now I know that you are a man of God, and that the word of Yahweh in your mouth is truth.”

This story of the raising of the widow’s son accomplishes several things at once. First, it serves as a “credentialing” story for Elijah. Often, the scriptures give us a “call story” for prophets. We see where they were or what they were doing before they began their work, or we know that they acted as an advisor to the king or so on. But with Elijah, we know nothing. So this story illustrates that God was with him and that he was speaking and acting on God’s behalf, as God wanted him to act.

But it does more than that. This and all the stories of Elijah demonstrate that Yahweh is God not Baal. The passage shows us God’s faithfulness and power. So this new life story is about new life through God rather than elsewhere. We’ll come back to that. But I want to point out something else really important about this chapter first. The widow, though she is a foreigner, living in an area that would worship Baal, seems to be convinced of the power of the God Elijah talks about. She talks about Elijah’s God, and witnesses how God provides for Elijah and her family during the drought. When her son dies, she believes in God – she believes, in fact, that God has punished her, that her son’s death is a result of her not following this Yahweh. So Elijah doesn’t raise her son so that she’ll believe in the power of God. She already believes God is powerful enough to bring about her son’s death as punishment! No, Elijah raises her son to demonstrate that God isn’t about death and punishment! God is about mercy, hope, and new life! God isn’t out to punish the woman for her lack of belief or even for having followed another god. No, Yahweh acts to demonstrate that God is the God of life, of living, of hope, of resurrection. The widow, then, is offered through Elijah an opportunity to witness the power of God, an opportunity to be transformed by the power of resurrection. The woman is expecting punishment. But as usual, God offers grace instead. And because of that, because of life, not death, the woman concludes: “Now I know that you are a man of God, and that the word of the Lord in your mouth is truth.”

I wonder, when we’re trying to offer to others the gift of God that we have found – do we offer death and punishment, or do we offer grace, hope, and life? When we were driving down to Kentucky for our mission trip last week, my passengers Emma and Daija noticed some big billboards, proclaiming that hell is real, with the letter H filled in with fiery flames, suggesting that if you didn’t want to end up in hell, you better connect with Jesus really soon. We talked about whether or not these billboards were achieving their intended purpose. I think we’ve got some good news to share. Life-giving, hope-giving, resurrecting news to share about God. Most people find that death and despair is all around them – that’s not news. But resurrection? Life that can’t be conquered by death? That’s some good news. It was good news for the widow of Zarephath. And it’s good news for us, meant to be shared.

This passage also asks us a question: Where else are you trying to get new life from that isn’t God? Today we heard from Linda Loomis, who spoke about our stewardship theme for this year. And as we think about the family tree of our church, we think of what it means to be rooted. What are we rooted in that is giving us life? We’re rooted in Christ. Our life comes from God who breathes God’s own breath, God’s own spirit into us, and we’re given life, rooted in Christ. If we’re planted somewhere else, not by the water, our roots will be unhealthy, and we’ll never grow like we could. Elijah, in this story and in the other stories about him from 1 Kings, has one mission: to encourage people to stop turning to things other than God seeking life. Anytime we seek new life from something other than God, anytime we make that other thing more important to us, more of a focus for us than God, not only are we being idolatrous, but we’re also just engaging in futile behavior. We’re setting ourselves up for failure. Plant yourself by the tree. Seeking new life? Make sure you’re looking in the right place, seeking new life from the right source. As you think about your life, the places you are seeking resurrection, how and where are you seeking after new life?

Then Elijah said, ‘See, your son is alive.’ So the woman said to Elijah, ‘Now I know that you are a man of God, and that the word of the Lord in your mouth is truth.’ Amen.