Category Archives: Uncategorized

April 18, 2010

Lines in the Sand

A Sermon preached at Southminster Presbyterian on April 18, 2010

John 7:37-8:11

On the last day of the festival, the great day, while Jesus was standing there, he cried out, “Let anyone who is thirsty come to me, and let the one who believes in me drink. As the scripture has said, ‘Out of the believer’s heart shall flow rivers of living water.’”
Now he said this about the Spirit, which believers in him were to receive; for as yet there was no Spirit, because Jesus was not yet glorified.
When they heard these words, some in the crowd said, “This is really the prophet.”
Others said, “This is the Messiah.” But some asked, “Surely the Messiah does not come from Galilee, does he? Has not the scripture said that the Messiah is descended from David and comes from Bethlehem, the village where David lived?”
So there was a division in the crowd because of him.
Some of them wanted to arrest him, but no one laid hands on him.
Then the temple police went back to the chief priests and Pharisees, who asked them, “Why did you not arrest him?”
The police answered, “Never has anyone spoken like this!”
Then the Pharisees replied, “Surely you have not been deceived too, have you?
Has any one of the authorities or of the Pharisees believed in him? But this crowd, which does not know the law—they are accursed.”
Nicodemus, who had gone to Jesus before, and who was one of them, asked, “Our law does not judge people without first giving them a hearing to find out what they are doing, does it?”
They replied, “Surely you are not also from Galilee, are you? Search and you will see that no prophet is to arise from Galilee.”
Then each of them went home, while Jesus went to the Mount of Olives.
Early in the morning he came again to the temple. All the people came to him and he sat down and began to teach them.
The scribes and the Pharisees brought a woman who had been caught in adultery; and making her stand before all of them, they said to him, “Teacher, this woman was caught in the very act of committing adultery. Now in the law Moses commanded us to stone such women. Now what do you say?”
They said this to test him, so that they might have some charge to bring against him. Jesus bent down and wrote with his finger on the ground.
When they kept on questioning him, he straightened up and said to them, “Let anyone among you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her.”
And once again he bent down and wrote on the ground.
When they heard it, they went away, one by one, beginning with the elders; and Jesus was left alone with the woman standing before him.
Jesus straightened up and said to her, “Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?” She said, “No one, sir.” And Jesus said, “Neither do I condemn you. Go your way, and from now on do not sin again.”

This is one of my very favorite passages in Scripture. I love this Jesus. This is the Jesus I wish I could be most like. This is also the Jesus who is so hard for me to emulate.
Because he is fearless.
Because he doesn’t get into petty fights with hypocrites.
Because he is willing to speak words of Truth, even though they will be dangerous for him.
Because he stands with the powerless and gives voice to those who are silenced.

This passage takes place at the end of the Festival of the Booths. Where Jesus had not wanted to go. Because he knew they were trying to arrest him. But he goes. And he stands up in public and starts teaching. That particular sermon was not recorded, but the authority with which he preached was. And it appeared to leave his opponents flummoxed. They couldn’t lift a finger against him. People started talking. Is he the Messiah? Could he be?

When they can’t counter his arguments, they try to impugn his character. “There’s no way the Messiah could come from Galilee, people. Of course he’s not the Messiah.” To us, Galilee sounds like the Holy Land. We think of Galilee and have positive images. But back then, it was a big insult. Whatever the bad part of town is, the most backward part of your community—that’s what Galilee meant. And when Nicodemus tried to ask a question they called him a Galilean as well. And look at Nicodemus’ question again: “Our law does not judge people without first giving them a hearing to find out what they are doing, does it?”

Nicodemus isn’t really even clearly defending what Jesus has said. He’s just asking about what you need to know before you pass judgment. And they call him a Galilean.

At the very least, this should give us pause. In a culture where it is easier to call someone a name than it is to sit down and have a conversation, we should be wary of our tendency to call people Galileans.

So, the next day, after Nicodemus has questioned the tendency to judge someone before the facts are known, they bring to Jesus a woman, caught, they say, in the very act of committing adultery.

We don’t even need to go into the problems with this story. She was alone? committing adultery? They caught her in the very act? I’m guessing we don’t want to know why they were in her bedroom….

But Jesus is asked to give summary judgment on this woman, caught in the act of adultery all by herself, so that they can stone her. “What do you say?”, they asked him.
And he says nothing.

You know me well enough by now to know that I would most certainly say something. I would rise to the oratorical challenge and let them know exactly how wrong they are and how Moses will come back from the grave to get them for misusing Scripture!
Which is reason 743 that God didn’t make me the Messiah.

Jesus stoops down, and starts writing in the dust. Doesn’t say a word. Jesus doesn’t take the bait. And it takes the wind right out of their sails. Because it is hard to have a screaming match when you’re the only one screaming. It is hard to fight with someone when you have to look down to the ground to find him.

If I were the woman standing by his side, however, I would probably not, in that moment, have appreciated his action. “Gee, thanks mister. Coward. Tell these guys what’s wrong with their argument! A woman can’t commit adultery by herself! Exactly how much sexual freedom do you think a woman has in the year 33 AD anyway?”
But he continues to scribble in the dust.

I, of course, want to know what he’s writing in the sand. Some good Aramaic word for “mean, jerkface bullies”?
No, wait. That’s what I would do.

Whatever he’s writing in the sand it gives them time to take a breath. Maybe it even gives Jesus time to take a breath.

And there is advantage to writing things in the sand.
As opposed to publishing them online.
Or etching them in stone.
Or putting them on the front page of the Jerusalem Times.
Or turning to violence or anger.
Because things in the sand are not permanent. They allow you to change your mind. The sand will blow away. Or you can move your hand across it and it will disappear. Or rains will come.
Things written in the sand allow you to reconsider and to write something else. To slow down on passing judgment and to consider another perspective.

After a while, as they continue to throw questions at his silence, Jesus stands up and tells them, “Let anyone among you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her.”
Once again, at this point, I suspect the woman was having some second thoughts about Jesus’ plan.
Because Jesus invites them to stone her and then stoops back down and starts playing in the dust.

But they don’t stone her.
They were certainly more than ready to do it a few minutes ago.
But this time they just silently disperse, dropping their stones to the ground, where they each make a thud, sending up little clouds of dust.
And Jesus speaks to the woman for the first time.
“Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?”
To the person whose side of the story had not so far been requested, Jesus gives her a chance to speak. “No one, sir”, she replies.
What must that have been like to realize that for the first time, that day at least, nobody was condemning her. “No one, sir”, she replies.
“Neither do I condemn you.” Jesus tells her. “Go your way and from now on, do not sin again.”

But what does that mean?
Everyone sins. We aren’t proud of it, for sure. But a part of our life in faith is acknowledging that we make mistakes. That we turn away from being our best selves.
Even our would-be stone throwers acknowledged that none of them were without sin. Is Jesus expecting her to be perfect? Is he referring specifically to the adultery?
But Jesus is rarely just talking to the character in the text. He is talking to us as well. And while I’m sure he would tell us all not to be caught in the act of adultery by ourselves, I suspect he’s telling us something more.

Go and do not sin again.

Maybe it is to go from here and start living as if you know you are God’s beloved child, worth more than cheap relationships.
Maybe it is to go from here and not leap to judgment again.
Go from here and stop calling people adulterers or Galileans.
Go from here and stop using Scripture as a weapon.
Go from here and try to consider the other person’s perspective.
Go from here and worry more about your own relationship with God and less about your neighbor’s.
Go from here and do not return anger and hatred when it is thrown at you.

At the beginning of the text today, Jesus said, “Let anyone who is thirsty come to me, and let the one who believes in me drink. As the scripture has said, ‘Out of the believer’s heart shall flow rivers of living water.’”

If we want to call ourselves believers, if we want to go and sin no more, perhaps we have to check and make sure that is rivers of living water that pour forth from our hearts.

Sometimes it seems that we live in a landscape of stones waiting to be thrown, of dry river beds, harsh words, and parched souls. But Jesus says, “Let anyone who is thirsty come to me, and let the one who believes in me drink.”

Friends, the world may tell you that there isn’t enough of the Living Water of God’s grace to go around, that the lines we draw in the sand are permanent. The world tries to tell you that the best way to feel better about yourself is to judge someone else, but Jesus says, “Let anyone who is thirsty come to me, and let the one who believes in me drink.”

And this living water that Jesus offers us will wash away whatever lines we make in the sand, washing it clear and clean and new.

My prayer for us all this week is that “Out of our hearts shall flow rivers of living water.’”

May it be so.
Amen.

3 comments | tags: John 8:1-11, judgment, living water | posted in Uncategorized

April 4, 2010

Easter Sermon

By marciglass

Isaiah 65:17-25
For I am about to create new heavens
and a new earth;
the former things shall not be remembered
or come to mind.
But be glad and rejoice forever
in what I am creating;
for I am about to create Jerusalem as a joy,
and its people as a delight.
I will rejoice in Jerusalem,
and delight in my people;
no more shall the sound of weeping be heard in it,
or the cry of distress.
No more shall there be in it
an infant that lives but a few days,
or an old person who does not live out a lifetime;
for one who dies at a hundred years will be considered a youth,
and one who falls short of a hundred will be considered accursed.
They shall build houses and inhabit them;
they shall plant vineyards and eat their fruit.
They shall not build and another inhabit;
they shall not plant and another eat;
for like the days of a tree shall the days of my people be,
and my chosen shall long enjoy the work of their hands.
They shall not labor in vain,
or bear children for calamity;
for they shall be offspring blessed by the LORD—
and their descendants as well.
Before they call I will answer,
while they are yet speaking I will hear.
The wolf and the lamb shall feed together,
the lion shall eat straw like the ox;
but the serpent—its food shall be dust!
They shall not hurt or destroy
on all my holy mountain, says the LORD.

John 20:1-18

Early on the first day of the week, while it was still dark, Mary Magdalene came to the tomb and saw that the stone had been removed from the tomb.
So she ran and went to Simon Peter and the other disciple, the one whom Jesus loved, and said to them, “They have taken the Lord out of the tomb, and we do not know where they have laid him.”
Then Peter and the other disciple set out and went toward the tomb.
The two were running together, but the other disciple outran Peter and reached the tomb first.
He bent down to look in and saw the linen wrappings lying there, but he did not go in.
Then Simon Peter came, following him, and went into the tomb. He saw the linen wrappings lying there, and the cloth that had been on Jesus’ head, not lying with the linen wrappings but rolled up in a place by itself.
Then the other disciple, who reached the tomb first, also went in, and he saw and believed; for as yet they did not understand the scripture, that he must rise from the dead. Then the disciples returned to their homes.
But Mary stood weeping outside the tomb. As she wept, she bent over to look into the tomb; and she saw two angels in white, sitting where the body of Jesus had been lying, one at the head and the other at the feet.
They said to her, “Woman, why are you weeping?” She said to them, “They have taken away my Lord, and I do not know where they have laid him.”
When she had said this, she turned around and saw Jesus standing there, but she did not know that it was Jesus.
Jesus said to her, “Woman, why are you weeping? Whom are you looking for?” Supposing him to be the gardener, she said to him, “Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have laid him, and I will take him away.”
Jesus said to her, “Mary!” She turned and said to him in Hebrew, “Rabbouni!” (which means Teacher).
Jesus said to her, “Do not hold on to me, because I have not yet ascended to the Father. But go to my brothers and say to them, ‘I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.’”
Mary Magdalene went and announced to the disciples, “I have seen the Lord”; and she told them that he had said these things to her.

Christ is risen! He is risen indeed!
This is the day the church comes together to celebrate the GOOD news that is, quite frankly, unexpected, and a little hard to make sense of. We know all about death. That is the normal course of things in our life.
It is resurrection that is unfamiliar.
Even Jesus’ own followers, the people who walked, talked, and ate dinner with him, weren’t expecting it.
Even though he had, not long before, brought Lazarus back from the dead.
Mary wasn’t on her way to talk with Jesus in the garden. She was on her way to anoint his dead body.
So we gather this morning to make sense of this remarkable and unplanned news.
Christ is risen! He is risen indeed!

I confess that I am often drawn to Mary’s story in this text. It is easy for me to race past the story of Peter and the Beloved Disciple on my way to Mary’s encounter with the gardener.
But this year, as I read this text, I remembered a painting I saw at a museum a few years ago. It was painted by Eugene Burnand and is a depiction of the footrace of Peter and John on their way to the tomb.

The picture doesn’t quite do the painting justice, but I like the looks on their faces. Is it hope? Is it fear? Some combination of the two?

Randy preached last week about Peter’s betrayal of Jesus, and you can understand the look on Peter’s face—both good and bad—what if Jesus comes back? What will he say to me? But maybe betrayal doesn’t have to be the final word—maybe I can apologize before he says anything!
The other disciple, or “the one whom Jesus loved” is referred to as the Beloved Disciple by scholars and is commonly thought to be the persona of the author of the 4th gospel, John. If Peter is the disciple most like us—most likely to make mistakes, yet live his faith with great passion—the Beloved Disciple is the one who tends to respond correctly the first time.

But look at what they do in this story. Mary has gone to the tomb to anoint a dead body. As far as she knows, Jesus is still dead and so she goes to care for his dead body. But she rushes back to where the other disciples are hiding and tells them that the stone has been rolled away and that someone must have taken his body.
So our two friends here, Peter and John, race to the tomb. Now that I’ve had years of living in a home with boys, I no longer find it weird that they choose to have a footrace on the way to the tomb, because the three males who live in my house will turn any event into a competition, even a trip to the empty tomb.
But I know there’s more to it than that. Perhaps they each have something to prove. Peter had, after all, just spent the last days running away from Jesus. And John—maybe he’s just showing us how ideal disciples behave—running head on into the mystery, willing to see for himself, whatever the news might be.
And so they reach the tomb. John gets there first and looks inside, sees the linen wrappings, but doesn’t enter. Peter gets there, goes inside and also sees the wrappings. John joins him in the tomb and the text tells us, “he saw and believed.”
What do you think he believed? The text doesn’t tell us. The text does go on to say, “for as yet they did not understand the scripture, that he must rise from the dead.” It is possible, perhaps even probable, that the Beloved Disciple believed without understanding. That may be where many of us are. We believe, but we still don’t understand what the Resurrection means in our lives. But our belief is enough to sustain us.
Or maybe we are like Peter. Doing our very best after our very best wasn’t good enough, to make it up to Jesus. To be the best disciple we know how to be, even though we’re no model disciples. Peter is willing to have a relationship with Jesus at any and every cost.

Maybe some days we are like Mary. After Peter and John have left to go back to their homes, apparently determined that there is nothing left for them to see at the Tomb, Mary stands at the entrance to the tomb. Weeping. Because insult to injury. Her teacher, her Lord, her friend is dead and now his body is missing. And this is not the way it was supposed to be. As if it wasn’t bad enough that they tortured and murdered him, now they’ve stolen his body!
And so she weeps.
Before we move on to what happens next, remember that weeping can be an appropriate response to the Resurrection. Some days weeping is the best testimony we can offer.
Because people we love are unjustly murdered by the powers of this world and then their bodies are stolen!
On this day, 42 years ago, Martin Luther King, Jr was assassinated, reminding us that we weep over the violence in this world that tries to silence the prophets.
Or some days we weep because loved ones get sick.
Because justice does not rain down as it should.
Because we lose our jobs.
Because children in this world are hungry.
Because wars wage across the face of the earth.
Because people die.
And that is why Jesus calls Mary’s name; that is why God calls our names. Because he walked out of the tomb to bear witness to the fact that death does not have the final say. That God has unleashed a new creation with the Resurrection of Jesus.
“Mary”, he calls out. She turns around, away from the empty tomb, away from her tears, away from discarded grave clothes, and toward the living Christ.
But she can’t hang on to him in that moment. Because the story is still unfolding. There is work to do. She is instructed to proclaim the Resurrection to a hurting world, where people weep and suffer and worry. She is instructed to proclaim the good news of the resurrection and she does.
“I have seen the Lord!”
We’re gathered here 2,000 years later because this woman told people when she saw God.
It matters that you tell people when you have seen God, because all these years later, we’re still telling her story, even though in this text, at least, Mary’s best qualification for the job of evangelist seems to be that she recognized his voice when he called her name.
And so, like Mary, the church is called to bear witness to where we have seen God.
Just as Mary couldn’t hang on to the resurrected Jesus in the garden, we can’t leave it there either. Because God’s new creation is still in process and there is a world out there that needs to hear a message of hope instead of the world’s message of fear and anxiety. We can’t just stop on Easter morning. We have Good News to share!

The prophet Isaiah also gives us a glimpse of this new creation, this world God is bringing about. Isaiah was speaking to people who knew about exile, so he describes a world where you, and not some Assyrian invader, get to eat the crops you plant. A world where you get to live in the house you built. A world where children will not be born for calamity, but will live good and long lives—where a 100 year old person will be considered a teenager.

Many of Isaiah’s images of this new creation are not crazy impossible ideals. He’s talking about health, and adequate food and shelter, and I think his images should instruct us as a church.
How are we going to respond to the Resurrection in our community? I think that working in our community for those basic needs to be met—health, food, shelter—is a way to bring about the other, less normal, images in Isaiah.

Where the lion becomes a vegetarian who eats straw and the lamb invites the wolf to join him for a movie.

Isaiah makes it clear that things will change. But we’ve spent so many years where things don’t seem to change that I wonder if we can even imagine what would happen if everyone were able to live a long and healthy life? What would happen if everyone had adequate food and shelter? When that comes about, I suspect wolves and lambs hanging out together won’t seem so odd any more.
Hear again the voice of the prophet:
For I am about to create new heavens
and a new earth;
the former things shall not be remembered
or come to mind.
But be glad and rejoice forever
in what I am creating;

New creation is not for sissies. New creation and resurrection faith call us to work for a better world, here and now, for all of God’s creation.

“I have seen the Lord!”, we proclaim to a world with our very lives, seeking to make God’s new creation visible in a world that tells us it will never be so. The witness of the empty tomb reminds us that this world doesn’t have all of the answers though. So we proclaim, “I have seen the Lord!”, even though the world thinks he is dead and gone.

Friends, on this Easter morning, whether we are Peter and John, who are already at home recovering from their footrace, or whether we are Mary, weeping at the tomb, we are called to remember that Easter is a beginning, and not an ending. We are called to remember that we have been invited to witness to the New Creation by sharing hope in a hurting world. We are called to tell the world that we have seen the Lord. And we are called to share the words of the prophet Isaiah with people weeping beside empty tombs of their own:

But be glad and rejoice forever
in what I am creating;
for I am about to create Jerusalem as a joy,
and its people as a delight.
no more shall the sound of weeping be heard in it,
or the cry of distress.
Before they call I will answer,
while they are yet speaking I will hear.

Friends. Before we even called, God has answered. Thanks be to God. Amen.

1 comment | posted in Uncategorized

March 6, 2010

Posture for Living

By marciglass

Psalm 27
The LORD is my light and my salvation;
whom shall I fear?
The LORD is the stronghold of my life;
of whom shall I be afraid?

When evildoers assail me
to devour my flesh—
my adversaries and foes—
they shall stumble and fall.

Though an army encamp against me,
my heart shall not fear;
though war rise up against me,
yet I will be confident.

One thing I asked of the LORD,
that will I seek after:
to live in the house of the LORD
all the days of my life,
to behold the beauty of the LORD,
and to inquire in his temple.

For he will hide me in his shelter
in the day of trouble;
he will conceal me under the cover of his tent;
he will set me high on a rock.

Now my head is lifted up
above my enemies all around me,
and I will offer in his tent
sacrifices with shouts of joy;
I will sing and make melody to the LORD.

Hear, O LORD, when I cry aloud,
be gracious to me and answer me!
“Come,” my heart says, “seek his face!”
Your face, LORD, do I seek.
Do not hide your face from me.

Do not turn your servant away in anger,
you who have been my help.
Do not cast me off, do not forsake me,
O God of my salvation!
If my father and mother forsake me,
the LORD will take me up.

Teach me your way, O LORD,
and lead me on a level path
because of my enemies.
Do not give me up to the will of my adversaries,
for false witnesses have risen against me,
and they are breathing out violence.

I believe that I shall see the goodness of the LORD
in the land of the living.
Wait for the LORD;
be strong, and let your heart take courage;
wait for the LORD!

Luke 13:31-35

At that very hour some Pharisees came and said to him, “Get away from here, for Herod wants to kill you.”
He said to them, “Go and tell that fox for me, ‘Listen, I am casting out demons and performing cures today and tomorrow, and on the third day I finish my work.
Yet today, tomorrow, and the next day I must be on my way, because it is impossible for a prophet to be killed outside of Jerusalem.’
Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to it! How often have I desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing!
See, your house is left to you. And I tell you, you will not see me until the time comes when you say, ‘Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord.’”

Jesus is on the road to Jerusalem, teaching along the way.
His march to Jerusalem is with purpose. He knows what will happen there. He is walking to the cross, seemingly without fear or hesitation.
And some Pharisees warn him about Herod, which seems odd, because they are always trying to trap Jesus. You’d think they’d be cheering for Herod here, because they never cheer for Jesus.
But maybe this is an indication of how unpopular Herod was. Not even the Pharisees want to be on his side. The Herod in this passage is Herod Antipas, the son of the Herod who was on the scene at Jesus’ birth. The family of Herod ruled at the pleasure of the Roman authorities, and were seen primarily as collaborators by the Jews in Palestine.
And Jesus has no use for Herod.
“Tell that no good fox that there is nothing he can do to me.”
Jesus is heading to Jerusalem, for his crucifixion and resurrection, and so a threat from Herod Antipas is not even on his radar.

I wonder what his disciples were thinking as Jesus insulted the ruler of Galilee. Because we know the ending of this story. We know that he is right, and that Herod has no control over Jesus’ destiny and glory.

But the disciples haven’t seen the end of the story yet. They are still living in the present, where agents of Rome have a lot of power and most definitely have the ability to ruin your life.
This particular Herod is responsible for killing John the Baptist, remember. John the Baptist was publicly critical of Herod for divorcing his wife to marry his widowed sister-in-law, so Herod had him imprisoned and then beheaded. And that is probably on the minds of the disciples as they hear Jesus dismiss him as a fox.

Because here’s the thing. We, like the disciples, have seen the way the powers of this world can hurt us. We know that things can happen. And we, like the disciples, live as if it is the things of this world that are ultimately in charge. Whether it is Herod Antipas, or an eating disorder, or addictions, or earthquakes, or cancer, or whatever, we let our fears and worries of this world get in the way of our Kingdom living. We let our concerns keep us away from where God is calling us to go.

But Jesus doesn’t do that.

I admire that in him.

I am frustrated about that in him. I try to be the most faithful disciple I know how to be, but I confess to you that I am certain I would have tried to “shush” Jesus when he started insulting Herod.

“Ummm, Rabbi, Herod already hates you and is threatened by you. You know these Pharisees are threatened by you and would be more than happy to go back to Herod with this report. We have things for you to do. We need you here. Your triumphal entry is just a few weeks away. Don’t go getting yourself in trouble. Let’s just keep a low profile and get you through Passover so that you can go about the work God has called you to do.”
So I say a little prayer of thanks that I wasn’t there to say that to Jesus. And I say a little prayer asking God’s forgiveness for being faithless and for not understanding.

Because we are called to live as faithful disciples who follow Christ into all of the corners of the world, into all of the places where people need healing, even into the places where Herod is laying traps for us.
“O Lord, I believe. Help my unbelief,” I cry.

Thankfully, Jesus sees things more clearly than we do.
He recognizes that while we are in this world, and subject to the powers of this world, we remain in God’s hands.
I know Jesus didn’t have an ipod, but I do. And I use music to help me through difficult things. Like exercise. I was at the gym the other day, listening to music as a way to forget that I was at the gym, and I decided I knew the song that Jesus would have been listening to, if he had an ipod, when he heard about the threat from Herod. Here it is, by Buddy Miller, “Shelter Me”.

SHELTER ME by Buddy Miller (on the album Universal United House of Prayer on New West Records)
the earth can shake the sky come down

the mountains all fall to the ground

but I will fear none of these things

shelter me lord underneath your wings

dark waters rise and thunders pound

the wheels of war are going round

and all the walls are crumbling

shelter me lord underneath your wings   (shelter me lord)

hide me underneath your wings

hide me deep inside your heart

in your refuge – cover me

the world can shake  but lord i’m making you my hiding place

the wind can blow

the rain can pour

the deluge breaks

the tempest roars

but in the storm

my spirit sings  (when you)

shelter me lord underneath your wings….

This song is a reminder that even in the midst of the storms in this world, God gives us shelter from the worst of it.
Even though Jesus didn’t have the benefit of an IPod to get him through his conversation with the Pharisees, he did have a soundtrack, of sorts, that could have given him comfort as he thought about what was ahead for him in Jerusalem—the Psalms.

And some of you may have even recognized that the song I just played you quoted the Psalms.

Psa. 57:1    Be merciful to me, O God, be merciful to me,
for in you my soul takes refuge;
in the shadow of your wings I will take refuge,
until the destroying storms pass by.

Psa. 36:7    How precious is your steadfast love, O God!
All people may take refuge in the shadow of your wings.

Or, perhaps even the Psalm we heard this morning:
Psa. 27:5   For he will hide me in his shelter
in the day of trouble;
he will conceal me under the cover of his tent;
he will set me high on a rock.

When I am feeling like I can’t face what the world is throwing my way, it is to the psalms I should listen on the IPod of my soul—

The LORD is my light and my salvation;
whom shall I fear?
The LORD is the stronghold of my life;
of whom shall I be afraid?

Though an army encamp against me,
my heart shall not fear;
though war rise up against me,
yet I will be confident.

Jesus, being the good Jewish boy that he was, knew his scripture. And while he doesn’t explicitly quote this psalm, his behavior makes me think that he’s internalized the message of these psalms, that they were playing on the soundtrack in his head, as he bravely faced the road that was ahead.

One of the reasons I wanted us to read the Bible this year is because most of us don’t have that grounding in scripture that Jesus would have had. We are losing scripture as a resource because Bibles gather dust on the shelf. One comment I hear often from you as you’ve been doing the Year of the Bible readings, is that you are surprised by how familiar some of the language of scripture is—but you didn’t know it as scripture. So much of our cultural language comes from scripture, but we have to work to regain our scriptural literacy so that we don’t lose those connections.
And the psalm, especially, deserves to be read again and again. “It is a prayer, even a plea, for patience, for trust, for the ability and the endurance to wait for the Lord, even when there is no sign that prayers may be answered, when the Lord’s arrival is a long, undetermined way off.”(Richard Stern in Feasting on the Word, Year C Vol 2, Page 59)

This psalm gives us the good news that even when armies encamp against us, they will not prevail. Even when evildoers assail us, they will stumble and fall. This psalm gives us a “posture for living” that is hopeful and confident that the God who created us will continue to care for us all the days of our lives.

That is why Jesus was able to disregard Herod Antipas—what is a Roman flunkie against the awesome power of God?
I pray that as we journey deeper into Lent we will recommit ourselves to adopting this “posture for living”, of trusting that the God who has called us here will not abandon us, but will shelter us underneath God’s wings.

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February 22, 2010

Wandering Arameans

By marciglass

Deuteronomy 26:1-11

When you have come into the land that the LORD your God is giving you as an inheritance to possess, and you possess it, and settle in it, you shall take some of the first of all the fruit of the ground, which you harvest from the land that the LORD your God is giving you, and you shall put it in a basket and go to the place that the LORD your God will choose as a dwelling for his name.
You shall go to the priest who is in office at that time, and say to him, “Today I declare to the LORD your God that I have come into the land that the LORD swore to our ancestors to give us.”
When the priest takes the basket from your hand and sets it down before the altar of the LORD your God,
you shall make this response before the LORD your God:
“A wandering Aramean was my ancestor; he went down into Egypt and lived there as an alien, few in number, and there he became a great nation, mighty and populous.
When the Egyptians treated us harshly and afflicted us, by imposing hard labor on us, we cried to the LORD, the God of our ancestors; the LORD heard our voice and saw our affliction, our toil, and our oppression.
The LORD brought us out of Egypt with a mighty hand and an outstretched arm, with a terrifying display of power, and with signs and wonders; and he brought us into this place and gave us this land, a land flowing with milk and honey.
So now I bring the first of the fruit of the ground that you, O LORD, have given me.”
You shall set it down before the LORD your God and bow down before the LORD your God.
Then you, together with the Levites and the aliens who reside among you, shall celebrate with all the bounty that the LORD your God has given to you and to your house.

Luke 14:1-13

Jesus, full of the Holy Spirit, returned from the Jordan and was led by the Spirit in the wilderness, where for forty days he was tempted by the devil. He ate nothing at all during those days, and when they were over, he was famished.
The devil said to him, “If you are the Son of God, command this stone to become a loaf of bread.”
Jesus answered him, “It is written, ‘One does not live by bread alone.’”
Then the devil led him up and showed him in an instant all the kingdoms of the world.
And the devil said to him, “To you I will give their glory and all this authority; for it has been given over to me, and I give it to anyone I please. If you, then, will worship me, it will all be yours.”
Jesus answered him, “It is written,
‘Worship the Lord your God, and serve only him.’”
Then the devil took him to Jerusalem, and placed him on the pinnacle of the temple, saying to him, “If you are the Son of God, throw yourself down from here, for it is written,
‘He will command his angels concerning you, to protect you,’
and
‘On their hands they will bear you up, so that you will not dash your foot against a stone.’”
Jesus answered him, “It is said, ‘Do not put the Lord your God to the test.’”
When the devil had finished every test, he departed from him until an opportune time.

Both texts for the first day of Lent are about wandering. Whether it is 40 years, in the case of Israel, or 40 days in the case of Jesus, both of them beg the question—what does wandering in the wilderness prepare you to inherit?
As we talked about last week, Luke’s gospel is forever struggling with the question—who do you say that Jesus is? This text shows the devil asking that question—if you are the son of God—then let’s see what you can do…
But Jesus refuses to let the tempter define his mission.

He will not make bread out of stones.

He will not accept worldly power.

He will not jump off the temple into the waiting arms of angels.

Notice that the things the devil asks him to do are not bad, in and of themselves—making bread out of stones would allow him to feed a whole lot of hungry people, after all. But if Jesus is to be the son of God, he realizes that there is only one voice he can obey—God’s.
Jesus will go on to feed the hungry later in the gospel. He will proclaim God’s Kingdom. And he will head to the cross with the confidence that the angels will, indeed catch him on the other side.
Jesus makes it through his period of wilderness wandering with a clearer sense of his identity as the Son of God and with a clearer understanding of his mission and confidence in the voice he will follow.

Wilderness wandering is rarely as successful for us, however. It took the Hebrew people 40 years of wandering, of being lost before they finally could see the Promised Land on the horizon. Forty YEARS!

And as they stand at the threshold, they are given some instruction for what they shall do as people who have been delivered, as people who are no longer wandering.
Their first response is to give thanks and to give back, take a share of the first fruit of the harvest and offer it to God in gratitude and praise. And as they do that, they are to recall their story, to remember the journey they have been on. This was the section I had you read with me earlier. The act of giving thanks and offering is intricately connected with the act of remembering.
And you know what they say about remembering—those who forget the past are doomed to fail History class.
No, that’s not it.
Those who forget the past are bound to repeat it.
But the act of remembering the past is not just to remember the ‘good ol’ days’. We remember the past to create a new and better future. Remembering subverts the world of death and pain in which we often find ourselves by insisting that the God to whom we give our praise and thanks is not done with creation. God has provided help for God’s people in the past. And God is the God whose steadfast love endures forever. So, we’re called to remember as an act of faith for a future in which God will deliver and save again.
Let’s look at the story the deuteronomist wants us to remember.
It begins with “a wandering Aramean was my ancestor”. This would be Jacob. And the word “wandering” in Hebrew implies that he was wandering because he wouldn’t pull off the freeway and ask for directions, even though his 4 wives told him to!
He was wandering because he was lost and his own resources weren’t getting him to his destination. So, we begin our claim with the acknowledgement that we come from a long line of “wanderers”, of people who are lost and who needed God’s help to get where they were going.
There is also the acknowledgement of the difficult and painful part of their past—they were slaves in Egypt—mistreated and oppressed. Remembering doesn’t require to you to whitewash the past, erasing the pain and sadness and loss. There is an acknowledgement here that the Good Ol’ Days were not uniformly good. But notice that the story continues, explaining the deliverance of the people by the mighty hand of God. So remembering the deliverance of the past helps us look for deliverance now and in the future.
So at the moment of offering the first fruits, the people are acknowledging that the faithfulness of God has brought them to this moment in history. That they are where they are because of the provision and gifts of God.
And they have been given this land to possess. But the land is not theirs. It is still God’s. And so the act of offering the first fruits is a reminder for them. And we need those reminders. Because we look around at what we have and our human tendency is to feel proud for what we have done!
Look at this great land we possess! All this milk and honey! Aren’t we amazing!?

The discipline of offering our first fruits to God helps us remember that pride in our successes doesn’t lead us into the Promised Land. It leaves us wandering.
But the other truth implied in offering first fruits is that you can’t offer fruits of a harvest if you are wandering. You have to be settled to grow crops, to tend orchards.

So perhaps our question in Lent is this—how settled are we? Physically, spiritually? How grounded and rooted are you in your life right now? Because, while there is a lot to be said for wilderness wandering, it doesn’t lead to harvest.
How can we, as individuals and a community, be settled enough that we can put down roots, clear weeds and rocks from our fields, nurture the seedlings, water the crops, and harvest the abundance?

The end of our passage from Deuteronomy is about a community in celebration, about taking the abundant harvest in the land God has given us to possess and inherit, and sharing it with our neighbors. The two groups specified—the Levites and the aliens who reside among you—are illustrations of two groups who wouldn’t have had land of their own. Remember the Levites are tending to the temple. And the foreigners may have been day laborers, working in the fields, but the harvest didn’t belong to them. There is a clear call in this text for the community to celebrate together, not just individually.

In the coming months, you will be hearing about some new ways we are going to be involved in our community. I’m very excited about the new directions we may go, because I think this piece of this text is so important. God didn’t give the Hebrew people land to inherit and possess so that they could get rich and give themselves multimillion dollar bonuses. The land is theirs to inherit and possess for the welfare of the community.

As we move into this season of Lent, let us, like our Hebrew ancestors at the edge of the wilderness, remember who we are. Let us remember from whence we have come. Let us work for the welfare of our community. And let us remember the Lord our God who has provided for us all along our wilderness wanderings. Amen.

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February 19, 2010

Ash Wednesday Meditation

By marciglass

February 17, 2010

Southminster Presbyterian Church, Boise, Idaho

Isaiah 58:1-14

Shout out, do not hold back!
Lift up your voice like a trumpet!
Announce to my people their rebellion,
to the house of Jacob their sins.
Yet day after day they seek me
and delight to know my ways,
as if they were a nation that practiced righteousness
and did not forsake the ordinance of their God;
they ask of me righteous judgments,
they delight to draw near to God.
“Why do we fast, but you do not see?
Why humble ourselves, but you do not notice?”
Look, you serve your own interest on your fast day,
and oppress all your workers.
Look, you fast only to quarrel and to fight
and to strike with a wicked fist.
Such fasting as you do today
will not make your voice heard on high.
Is such the fast that I choose,
a day to humble oneself?
Is it to bow down the head like a bulrush,
and to lie in sackcloth and ashes?
Will you call this a fast,
a day acceptable to the LORD?

Is not this the fast that I choose:
to loose the bonds of injustice,
to undo the thongs of the yoke,
to let the oppressed go free,
and to break every yoke?
Is it not to share your bread with the hungry,
and bring the homeless poor into your house;
when you see the naked, to cover them,
and not to hide yourself from your own kin?
Then your light shall break forth like the dawn,
and your healing shall spring up quickly;
your vindicator shall go before you,
the glory of the LORD shall be your rear guard.
Then you shall call, and the LORD will answer;
you shall cry for help, and he will say, Here I am.

If you remove the yoke from among you,
the pointing of the finger, the speaking of evil,
if you offer your food to the hungry
and satisfy the needs of the afflicted,
then your light shall rise in the darkness
and your gloom be like the noonday.
The LORD will guide you continually,
and satisfy your needs in parched places,
and make your bones strong;
and you shall be like a watered garden,
like a spring of water,
whose waters never fail.
Your ancient ruins shall be rebuilt;
you shall raise up the foundations of many generations;
you shall be called the repairer of the breach,
the restorer of streets to live in.
If you refrain from trampling the sabbath,
from pursuing your own interests on my holy day;
if you call the sabbath a delight
and the holy day of the LORD honorable;
if you honor it, not going your own ways,
serving your own interests, or pursuing your own affairs;
then you shall take delight in the LORD,
and I will make you ride upon the heights of the earth;
I will feed you with the heritage of your ancestor Jacob,
for the mouth of the LORD has spoken.

2 Corinthians 5:20-6:10
We entreat you on behalf of Christ, be reconciled to God. For our sake he made him to be sin who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God.
As we work together with him, we urge you also not to accept the grace of God in vain.
For he says,
“At an acceptable time I have listened to you,
and on a day of salvation I have helped you.”
See, now is the acceptable time; see, now is the day of salvation!
We are putting no obstacle in anyone’s way, so that no fault may be found with our ministry, but as servants of God we have commended ourselves in every way: through great endurance, in afflictions, hardships, calamities, beatings, imprisonments, riots, labors, sleepless nights, hunger; by purity, knowledge, patience, kindness, holiness of spirit, genuine love, truthful speech, and the power of God; with the weapons of righteousness for the right hand and for the left; in honor and dishonor, in ill repute and good repute. We are treated as impostors, and yet are true; as unknown, and yet are well known; as dying, and see—we are alive; as punished, and yet not killed; as sorrowful, yet always rejoicing; as poor, yet making many rich; as having nothing, and yet possessing everything.

We are entering Lent, a 40 day period of retrospection, traditionally a time of fasting and prayer to prepare our hearts and minds and lives for the Good News of Easter. And the best way to prepare for new and deeper relationships is to repent. We have a prayer of confession in worship each week, but this is the service of confession and repentance.
And true repentance is rare in our culture. Mark McGwire, the homerun champ, recently acknowledged what everyone could tell just by looking at him. He’d used steroids.
I wonder about the value of his repentance. I hope it will lead to restored relationships. But he acknowledged that he is only coming clean now, despite years of lying about it to everyone –including his family, friends, investigators, and congress—he’s only coming clean now so that he can get a job with the Cardinals as a batting coach. And he still claims that he took performance enhancing drugs only for their health benefits, not to strengthen his hitting. Again, I hope his repentance is true and will lead him to restored relationships.
But if you look around our culture, you see disgraced politicians from both sides of the aisle, telling their constituents they are sorry for their “indiscretions” while their wives stand faithfully behind them. And then many of those same politicians go on with their lives as if nothing has changed. We offer cheap repentance in our culture.
While I certainly believe in second chances, I do wonder what kind of message we are giving to our kids with our cheap repentance. What are they learning from us when we say we’re sorry and then go on with our lives, business as usual?
Apparently, things were similar back in Isaiah’s day. They may not have had steroids, but they seemed to have self-serving repentance too. And these people had some real reasons to seek God’s forgiveness, for they had abandoned the covenant and the ways of their God and ended up in exile. They needed deliverance from captivity and bondage.
Yet the people were going through the motions of fasting, repentance, dust and ashes, but were not changing the way they lived. Isaiah even accuses them of serving only their own interest on fast day and makes it clear that this is NOT the fast that God chooses.
What God wants in our repentance and in the religious acts that surround repentance, is spelled out pretty clearly. We are to seek the welfare of our community by fighting injustice, setting free the captives, sharing our bread with the hungry, clothing the naked, and welcoming the homeless poor into our homes.
Sadly for us, what God wants from us is often far from what we are willing to offer to God. Many people give up things for Lent. And perhaps giving up caffeine, or chocolate, or brussel sprouts might bring you closer to God, but how many of us have decided that for Lent we’re going to invite the homeless poor into our homes? How many of us have decided to actively seek justice as our Lenten practice?

There is a dichotomy in our Isaiah passage between selfish concerns and the concerns of the community. If our repentance is self-serving, worshipping God so that God will do something for us, it will not bring us closer to God. The repentance God wants is free of the anxiety of selfish concerns. It asks us to freely give to help those in our community, with no concerns for how we will benefit.
Because, here is the truth.
All of our benefits come from God.
They do not come about because of our own actions.
This is the mystery of grace. In grace, we are freed to live more fully in community with our fellow brothers and sisters.
In the fast that God chooses, “we are invited to receive ourselves and others as gifts, discovering in God’s engagement with us a life that can only be a life together.” (Thomas W. Currie in Feasting on the Word, Year C, Vol 2, page 4). Do our acts of repentance help us see the people we meet as God’s other beloved children? Do our acts of repentance help us see how our society has broken down, reflected in the reality of widespread hunger, homelessness, violence, and oppression?

In Paul’s letter to the church in Corinth, he seems to be wearing his ashes pretty visibly. Paul has taken such a stand for reconciliation of God’s people and such a stand for the gospel, that he has suffered because of it. Like Isaiah, he understands that our faith should not be self serving, but focused on the welfare of the community. Reconciliation is what we are called to as the church, even with people to whom we don’t particularly want to be reconciled.

But Paul wants us to see that reconciliation is worth it all. Like Isaiah before him, Paul wants to make clear to people that we aren’t fasting for the sake of fasting, or suffering for the sake of suffering. But both of them want us to see the connection between our mortality—our frail human lives—and our eternal lives. From dust we come and to dust we shall return is our story just as is the story of the cross that leads to eternal life.
Ash Wednesday, for Presbyterians at least, is the one day of the year you wear your faith visibly on your face. A little later in the service, we’ll put ashes on our foreheads, and go out into the world with the mark of our cross visible to the world. We will wear our mortality on our foreheads as we proclaim the promise of eternal life. Ashes are an ancient liturgical practice. Job repented in dust and ashes (Job 42:6). In Joshua, the Israelites put dust on their foreheads before the ark of the covenant (Josh 7:6). Daniel repented with fasting, sackcloth, and ashes as he prayed to God (Daniel 9:3).
As we go out into the world with the sign of our repentance on our forehead, I pray that it will not be in vain. That it will lead us to a repentance that will benefit the lives of the people we meet, freeing us to live into the grace that has saved us, with clean hearts and right spirits.
And when that happens, hear the promise from Isaiah:

If you honor it, not going your own ways,
serving your own interests, or pursuing your own affairs;
then you shall take delight in the LORD,
and I will make you ride upon the heights of the earth;
I will feed you with the heritage of your ancestor Jacob,
for the mouth of the LORD has spoken.

Amen.

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February 14, 2010

Transfiguration

By marciglass

Exodus 34:29-35

Luke 9:28-43

A Sermon preached at Southminster Presbyterian Church, February 14, 2010

Exodus 34 Moses came down from Mount Sinai. As he came down from the mountain with the two tablets of the covenant in his hand, Moses did not know that the skin of his face shone because he had been talking with God. When Aaron and all the Israelites saw Moses, the skin of his face was shining, and they were afraid to come near him.
But Moses called to them; and Aaron and all the leaders of the congregation returned to him, and Moses spoke with them.
Afterward all the Israelites came near, and he gave them in commandment all that the LORD had spoken with him on Mount Sinai.
When Moses had finished speaking with them, he put a veil on his face; but whenever Moses went in before the LORD to speak with him, he would take the veil off, until he came out; and when he came out, and told the Israelites what he had been commanded, the Israelites would see the face of Moses, that the skin of his face was shining; and Moses would put the veil on his face again, until he went in to speak with him.

Luke 9 Now about eight days after these sayings Jesus took with him Peter and John and James, and went up on the mountain to pray.
And while he was praying, the appearance of his face changed, and his clothes became dazzling white.
Suddenly they saw two men, Moses and Elijah, talking to him.
They appeared in glory and were speaking of his departure, which he was about to accomplish at Jerusalem.
Now Peter and his companions were weighed down with sleep; but since they had stayed awake, they saw his glory and the two men who stood with him.
Just as they were leaving him, Peter said to Jesus, “Master, it is good for us to be here; let us make three dwellings, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah”—not knowing what he said.
While he was saying this, a cloud came and overshadowed them; and they were terrified as they entered the cloud.
Then from the cloud came a voice that said, “This is my Son, my Chosen; listen to him!”
When the voice had spoken, Jesus was found alone. And they kept silent and in those days told no one any of the things they had seen.
On the next day, when they had come down from the mountain, a great crowd met him.
Just then a man from the crowd shouted, “Teacher, I beg you to look at my son; he is my only child.
Suddenly a spirit seizes him, and all at once he shrieks. It convulses him until he foams at the mouth; it mauls him and will scarcely leave him.
I begged your disciples to cast it out, but they could not.”
Jesus answered, “You faithless and perverse generation, how much longer must I be with you and bear with you? Bring your son here.”
While he was coming, the demon dashed him to the ground in convulsions. But Jesus rebuked the unclean spirit, healed the boy, and gave him back to his father.
And all were astounded at the greatness of God.

I’m sure many of you are hoping that I will explain these passages for you. That I will wrap them up in a nice little package of “that makes sense” so we can go on our way, secure in our illusion that things are supposed to make sense.

But I will not be doing that today. Because whether you interpret the Bible literally or more figuratively, these texts are about mystery. They don’t want to be explained. Right before we enter the season of Lent, as we’ll prepare for the mystery of Easter, these texts stand at the entrance and remind us that God is not to be easily understood or categorized.

Our passage from Exodus is the second time Moses has brought the 10 commandments back to the people. Remember the first time? He came off the mountain to discover the people worshipping the golden calf. But Moses continues to talk with God. The text says that God spoke to Moses face to face, as he would a friend. And Moses asks things of God that we would not. He asks to see the glory of God.

But when Moses comes down from the mountain, the people won’t go anywhere near him. Because his face was shining. Seeing the glory of God leaves him physically altered.

Moses gives the people the instructions from God and then he puts a veil on his face—just so they won’t be freaked out by his appearance. When he is with God, he takes the veil off. This is the opposite of what you think should happen. Moses didn’t need protection from God, but apparently the people needed protection from the glory of God that is evident on his face.

Again, we aren’t sure what the term “glory of the Lord” means, but clearly there are consequences to getting that close to God. It isn’t to be taken lightly. {At the very least, it seems clear that once Moses decided to identify himself that closely with God, once he decided that the veil was more helpful when he was in public than it was when he was with God, he ended up somewhat at odds with his neighbors.}
Whatever the Glory of the Lord is, it clearly leaves us dazzled and blinking from its brightness.

The authors of the gospel accounts of the Transfiguration of Jesus told their story in a way to remind you of Moses. Moses is even there. And Elijah too. The connection between Jesus and the Old Testament Law and Prophets is drawn in bold strokes. They are on a mountain. The word “exodus” is even used, although in our translation, it is “They appeared in glory and were speaking of his departure”, speaking of his exodus.

And Jesus face is changed and his clothes become dazzling white. But this isn’t because his momma had access to some really good bleach with which to wash his clothes. This is a reminder of what happens when the glory of the Lord appears to you.
You are transfigured.
You are changed.

And, in Luke’s gospel, this story is placed at the end of a section about Jesus identity. Herod wants to know who Jesus is. Jesus asks his disciples who they say he is.

And Luke answers the question, giving us a very clear answer despite the mystery surrounding the scene. Jesus is the inheritor of Moses and Elijah’s traditions. Jesus is the one on whom God’s glory has shone. Even God gives an answer in God’s own voice—“This is my Son, my Chosen—Listen to him!”

Two thousand years later, we’re still asking that question of ourselves and of each other. Who is Jesus?

A few weeks ago, at our congregational meeting, I shared with you an action the Session had taken in regard to Camp Sawtooth. For this summer, we are not going to send our kids to camp there. We are waiting for the Camp Board to respond when they meet in a few weeks, but many of our concerns about what has been going on at camp are related to this very question. Who do we say Jesus is?
I’ve had some discussions since that congregational meeting about this issue, so perhaps now is a good time to say more. One of our concerns about the camp’s faith statement was the exclusiveness of it. If we didn’t see Jesus exactly the way described in that faith statement, there was not room for us there.
Here is how we described our concerns in our letter:

“While we believe that the birth, life and teachings, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ are the means through which we understand our salvation, we do not feel it necessary to claim that people who encounter God through other faiths or traditions are “eternally separated from God’s presence,” as stated in the camp Faith Statement. For one thing, it is not our job to determine the fate of other people’s souls. That job belongs to God alone. We commend to the Presbytery and especially to the Camp Board the 2002 document prepared by the Office of Theology and Worship at the General Assembly “Hope in the Lord Jesus Christ,” (available at www.pcusa.org) which reminds us that:

No one is saved apart from God’s gracious redemption in Jesus Christ. Yet we do not presume to limit the sovereign freedom of “God our Savior, who desires everyone to be saved and to come to the knowledge of the truth” (1 Timothy 2:4). Thus, we neither restrict the grace of God to those who profess explicit faith in Christ nor assume that all people are saved regardless of faith. Grace, love, and communion belong to God, and are not ours to determine.”

This is a Transfiguration issue.
Regardless of what we think about other faith traditions, our job as Christians is to be good Christians. Our job is to claim our identity as followers of Jesus. It is not our job to make claims for the other faith traditions.

This is a Transfiguration issue because as we approach Easter in the coming weeks of Lent, we have to figure out what it means for us to claim that Jesus is Lord. We follow a Savior who died on a cross, and who was raised by God to eternal life. This is not the narrative that the world tells. In the world’s narrative, we follow people who succeed. People who wield power. But in Christ, we follow someone who continually passed up opportunities to wield earthly power. We follow someone who was humiliated as a criminal on a cross. What does this mean for you to claim this?

Whether you see the gospel stories literally or figuratively, you still are confronted with the question—who do you say Jesus is?

We’ll enter the season of Lent this week with Ash Wednesday. I invite you to join us this Wednesday for worship at 7 pm. And I invite you to consider adding a question to your spiritual practice. As you’re reading the Bible, as you are praying, I invite you to take time in Lent and ask the question Luke answers in this text—who you do say Jesus is?

I am not going to answer the question for you, but here are a few things I noticed in this text that I’ll leave with you so you can do your own pondering in your heart.

Don’t erase the mystery. When the disciples saw Jesus transfigured, they wanted to build some tents. I personally, want to design a brand of laundry detergent called TRANSFIGURALL—for those Dazzling and Blinding Whites! But we should fight all of our tendencies to just explain the mystery away. Maybe our challenge during Lent should be to learn to live comfortably with unanswerable questions.

Don’t sleep through the important moments in life. The disciples were “weighed down with sleep”, even though their teacher was now blinding white and talking with Moses. They managed to stay awake this time, but will have similar troubles on Gethsemane while Jesus is off praying. How often do we live our lives distracted with our attention divided? I don’t know if the disciples were tired because they stayed up too late the night before watching TV or because they were wasting time watching youtube videos. Maybe they were just busy from working and driving the kids to basketball games and soccer practice. But they almost missed the mystery of the Transfiguration. While this text is clearly about more than this, I do think this text is a reminder for us to pay attention, and to be present in our lives so that we don’t miss the mysteries when they show up.

And the final thing I noticed is this:
There is a connection between God’s glory and suffering—both human and divine. We are seeing Jesus today at the transfiguration, shining with the glory of God. But in a few weeks, we’ll see him in the midst of suffering, suffering death on a cross. Jesus’ story doesn’t stop here on the mountain with his shining glory and hobnobbing with Moses and Elijah. He comes down off the mountain, knowing that he is heading for the cross. And when he gets off the mountain, he is faced with human suffering too. A man begs him to heal his child after the disciples had been unsuccessful in their attempts.
Jesus does not say to the man, “do you know who I was just talking with? Do you know how shiny I was?”

Jesus just heals the boy. He doesn’t have any words for the father. But he does have words for the disciples—words for the church. “You faithless and perverse generation—how much longer must I be with you?” The disciples had seen the transfiguration with their own eyes, yet it hadn’t translated into an ability to help someone in pain and suffering.

As we ponder the question about who Jesus is and what it means for us to be the best Jesus followers we can be, we should remember this too—having the best answers and understanding of Jesus doesn’t mean much if it doesn’t translate into helping people who need it.

How does our understanding and experience of Jesus translate into how we treat the people we meet?

I don’t know why the disciples were unable to heal the child. Maybe they were too distracted by the events on the mountain. But I think Jesus strikes such a harsh tone with them because it is so important that they get this right—you have to come down from the mountain and help the people you meet.

We have many blessings here at Southminster. In the midst of this economy, we are stable. We are in a position to really make a difference in our community and our world. But it will take concerted effort on our part to make that happen. I invite you to consider your response to Jesus transfiguration. How can we come down from this mountain and really heal people? I have great confidence that the Spirit will show us the way. Let us have eyes to see and hearts to respond.
Amen.

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February 3, 2010

To Whom do You Belong?

By marciglass

A Sermon preached at Southminster

January 31, 2010

Mark 12:1-27

Much like last week’s text, our passage from Mark’s gospel has some similarities to other gospel texts, but is, in my hearing, a little harsher than the versions told in Luke 20 and Matthew 21.
I had a hard time trying to figure out why Mark told all of these stories in this order, but here is what I noticed.
All of these stories—the vineyard, the emperor’s money, and the seven bridegrooms for one bride—are all about ownership. People trying to figure out who owns what.
In the first story, Jesus tells a parable that isn’t very subtle. Usually, when you hear a parable, you wonder, which character am I? But in this parable, it is so apparent that the religious leaders are the wicked tenants, that they even recognize it about themselves. And they aren’t very happy about it.

So this parable exposes the mistakes of the religious leaders—people who certainly should have recognized the Son when he showed up on the grounds, but killed him, as if that would allow them to inherit the vineyard. This is a pretty scathing indictment about religious leaders who should have been giving the harvest over to God, but were keeping it for themselves.
Most religious leaders, I suspect, when asked, would say, “of course the harvest isn’t ours. We work for God.” But I wonder if there are times when we don’t function that way. When we try to claim ownership for the programs or successes. When we try to claim God’s people as our own. I’m leery of casting judgment here, suspecting it would also be pointed toward me.
But this text starts out with a reminder that the work of the church, the work of God’s people, is not ours. It does not belong to us. This is good news for us. We are just the laborers. At the end of the day, it is God who is in charge. How great would it be if we could really live as if this were true?!
If we get new members—it is not because of us. It is because God wants more people to be with us on the journey. If our worship numbers increase—it is not because of us. It is because God delights in our worship and wants more of us to make a joyful noise. If our budget increases—it is not because of us. It is because God has things for us to do here in the community and in the world.

The second section of our text involves the response from the religious leaders. They recognize that Jesus has just strongly criticized them, but they’re afraid of the crowd, so they walk away. But they send some people to test him, to try to trap him in what he says.
“Teacher, we know that you are sincere, and show deference to no one; for you do not regard people with partiality, but teach the way of God in accordance with truth. Is it lawful to pay taxes to the emperor, or not? Should we pay them, or should we not?”

Can’t you just hear the sarcasm? This is one of those examples in scripture where people are speaking the truth, whether or not they are aware of it.
And their plan is that if Jesus says NOT to pay taxes, then they can go tell the authorities that he’s being subversive. If he tells them to pay their taxes, they can tell the people that he’s in the control of the authorities and doesn’t care about them.
If the question in the first part of the text is who does the vineyard belong to, the question here is who does the money belong to?
So, Jesus, sensing their trap, asks them whose face is on the money. “the emperor’s”.
Then give the money to him.
Now, I know that nobody likes to pay taxes, but this text should remind us not to confuse the kingdom of God with our own political system. Belief in God will not get you out of your civic responsibilities. It is a tricky thing, and even though the religious leaders had ulterior motives in asking the question—I think it is still a fair question.
We talk about the Kingdom of God and we work to make that a reality. Yet we are living in the Kingdom of the United States of America. And the two kingdoms do not have the same goals. I think we can work for God’s kingdom in the midst of this other one in which we find ourselves. But we shouldn’t confuse them.
And, like the question of who owns the vineyard, this is good news for us too. It means that God’s kingdom is not limited by coins, or by what the rulers of this world do or don’t do. “Sure, give this coin to the emperor,” Jesus seems to be saying. “God isn’t limited to this.” He almost treats their question with an attitude, of “aren’t they just precious?” Or as my friends in the South would say, “bless their hearts. They are comparing God with some mortal.”
So the harvest of the vineyard belongs to the owner of the vineyard. The things of the emperor belong to the emperor.
And our final test for Jesus today is brought by a second group of religious leaders—the Sadducees. This group really ceased to exist within Judaism after the fall of the Temple in 70 CE, but they were very different than the Pharisees. They were biblical literalists—when they read “an eye for an eye”, they would really take the eye. They also didn’t believe in an afterlife. Resurrection isn’t mentioned by Moses in the first five books of the Hebrew scriptures, so they didn’t believe in it. Using that reasoning, I would guess that they also don’t believe in cell phones, HD TV, or sliced bread (other things not mentioned by Moses.
In any case, they ask Jesus a question about the resurrection. The one they don’t believe in.
Talk about a theoretical case. So a guy dies. His widow marries one of his brothers. He dies too….and on it goes. Seven brothers for one bride—and who will she be married to when they get to heaven? There’s an awkward heavenly family dinner party, no? Poor woman.
The Saducees want this question to be about who owns this woman—brother 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6 or 7?
But Jesus answers a different question—who owns life? the living or the dead?
And he knows they are strict biblical literalists, so he quotes their
favorite guy to them—

have you not read in the book of Moses, in the story about the bush, how God said to him, ‘I am the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob’?

Jesus doesn’t limit God to earth, and he doesn’t answer the underlying concern of the Saducees about the resurrection, but he does tell them to stop worrying about theoretical situations in the afterlife. God is the God of the living. To me, that means that we should spend more time caring about how we treat people now, rather than saying, “I can’t stand to be around so and so, but I’m sure we’ll all get along just fine in Heaven.”
Promising someone great things in the afterlife while depriving them of justice here on earth, would probably lead Jesus to tell us, “He is God not of the dead, but of the living; you are quite wrong.”
I also saw this part of the text in stark relief this weekend. I flew to Seattle to say goodbye to my Uncle Leonard who has brain tumors and was just placed on hospice this week. As the family gathered around his bedside, I heard Jesus’ claim, “He is God not of the dead, but of the living” in a new way. Death will be a release for my uncle from his disease. When he dies, he will not need any consolation, for he will be whole again. But this weekend, as the family gathered around his bedside, there was great celebration in being together. I could feel God’s presence smoothing over those family relationships that can be stressful and allowing us all to rest in each other’s presence. I was thankful that we have a God who cares for the living.

So we give to the landlord the things that belong to the landlord. We give to the emperor, the things that belong to the emperor. And we give to those around us, to the living, the things you need to live a good life here and now.
This passage is heading toward the end of Jesus’ story in Mark’s gospel. It is as if Jesus is about to make his claim about who he belongs to. He is marching quickly toward the cross, where he will claim with his life that he belongs to God.
We aren’t to the season of Lent quite yet, but we will be in a few weeks. Lent, the season of preparing for the event of Easter, is a time to clean out the closets of your heart, soul, and mind, preparing you to receive the gift of Easter.
Perhaps this struggle about ownership and priorities in Mark could be useful for us as we prepare for Lent.
Do our lives reflect the God we serve?

When worship is over this morning, we invite you to stay for the annual congregational meeting. Only members can vote, but all people who participate in the life of the church are welcome to stay and listen. I think, as we talk about the budget and a few other matters, is you’ll hear confirmation about how well our life as Southminster seeks to reflect the God we serve. Surely we can do better—perfection is only for Jesus, we remember. But through your faithful participation, stewardship, and commitment this year, we have grown and strengthened our commitment to God’s work in this place and in our community. I cannot think of a place I would rather be, than right here with you. And it is such a privilege to be on the journey with you. God is, indeed, the God of the living, and I look forward to working with you in this upcoming year to show God’s love and concern for those living people whom God places into our care.
Thanks be to God.

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January 26, 2010

So Much to See

By marciglass

Mark 8:1-26

A Sermon preached at Southminster Presbyterian Church

January 24, 2010
In addition to preaching the texts as they appear in our Year of the Bible reading schedule, I’m trying to preach texts that don’t ever appear in the lectionary. Some of the texts we’ve heard have been, quite frankly, weird, and it is easy to see why they didn’t make the lectionary, even if they are still God’s word to us. Some of the texts didn’t make the lectionary because a similar story from a different book was chosen instead. That’s our situation today.
This passage from Mark sounds familiar because there are similar versions in other gospels. But this particular passage never shows up in our 3 year lectionary cycle. And it is a long section, so we’ll break it down. Feel free to open your bibles and follow along as we put this all together.
The first section is the second feeding miracle Mark describes—two chapters earlier, Jesus had also fed a crowd. So his disciples, theoretically, should have been ready, the second time around, when Jesus started asking them how much food they had in their picnic baskets. But they ask, “how can you feed these people with bread here in the desert?”
Jesus, despite the lack of comprehension of the disciples, does his thing and feeds 4,000 people with seven loaves of bread.
And, immediately, he and his disciples get in a boat and leave. Scholars aren’t sure where Dalmanutha was located, but when Jesus got there, the religious leaders ask him for a sign from heaven to test him. One might think that two feeding miracles might count as a possible sign, but apparently not. I don’t know how long Jesus had planned to stay on that side of the Galilee, but they get back in the boat and head back to the other side. Perhaps when faced with such unbelief, Jesus realized his time could be better spent elsewhere.
But then the feeding miracle, and the Pharisees request for signs, takes on new importance because the disciples forgot to bring more than one loaf of bread with them in the boat!
But Jesus reply is not to take the bread, bless it, and feed everyone in the boat. Instead he says, “beware the yeast of the Pharisee and the yeast of Herod”.
The disciples turn to each other and say, “he’s upset with us because we forgot to bring bread on the boat!”
Jesus says, “what? bread? What are you talking about? Why are you talking about bread?”
Poor disciples.
“Well, Jesus. There was that whole feeding thing you just did on the other side of the lake. And now we’re in a boat and don’t have much food with us and we’re kinda hungry. And you just mentioned yeast. So that’s why we’re talking about bread.”
We’re like the disciples most of the time, I think. We get so bogged down in the anxiety of the details of the moment that we don’t see bigger things around us. Yes, there are bigger things going on around us, but what are we going to have for lunch?!!
Jesus says, “Do you still not understand? Are your hearts hardened? Do you have eyes and fail to see? Do you have ears and fail to hear? So you not remember?”
He wants the disciples to respond differently than the Pharisees. He wants them to realize that signs of God’s abundance are everywhere around them. They just need to open their hearts, open their eyes, and open their ears. He wants them to see that the miracles aren’t just in turning seven loaves into food for 4,000. The miracle of God’s abundance is visible all around us—if only we have hearts open to receive, eyes open to see, and ears to hear.
And nothing closes our hearts, eyes, and ears faster than anxiety and doubt. When you close your heart to the people around you, you will feel very isolated. When you look around the world and expect to see scarcity, you will. When you listen for despair and hopelessness, you will hear it.
The Pharisees had neither eyes to see or ears to hear stories of God’s abundance and presence. They had determined that they were the judges of where God was working in the world and demanded a sign from Jesus. But the reality is, they wouldn’t have seen any possible sign he would have given them. Because their hearts were closed. Their eyes were closed. Their ears were closed.
There is a similar scene in the final book of CS Lewis’ Chronicles of Narnia series, “The Last Battle”. As the Narnians are fighting their final battle, their world has been divided by characters who spread falsehoods and lies. And so, some of the characters decide they won’t believe in anything. The dwarves say that “it is the dwarves for the dwarves” and not for anyone else.
After the battle, a number of characters, including the dwarves, are in a paradise, or perhaps even heavenly place. Their health is returned. The air is clean and clear. The fruit on the trees is better than the best fruit they’ve ever had. And Aslan the Christ-like lion is there too. But the dwarves don’t see any of it. They think they are still in a stable. Here’s a passage from the book:

“Well if that doesn’t beat everything” said the dwarf. “How can you go on talking all that rot? Your wonderful Lion didn’t come and help you, did he? Thought not. And now—even now—when you’ve been beaten and shoved into this (stable), just the same as the rest of us, you’re still at your old game. Starting a new lie! Trying to make us believe we’re none of us shut up, and it ain’t dark, and heaven knows what.”

The followers of Aslan regroup when they realize they can’t make the dwarves see, hear, or sense the truth. They ask Aslan to do something for them.

He says, “I will show you what I can, and what I cannot do.” He came close to the dwarves and gave a long growl; low, but it set all the air shaking. But the dwarves said to one another, ‘hear that? That’s the gang at the other end of the stable, trying to frighten us. Don’t take any notice. They won’t take us in again!’
“Aslan raised his head and shook his mane. Instantly a glorious feast appeared on the dwarves knees: pies and tongues and pigeons and trifles and ices, and each dwarf had a goblet of good wine in his right hand. But it wasn’t much use. They began eating and drinking greedily enough, but it was clear they couldn’t taste it properly. They thought they were eating and drinking only the sort of things you might find in a stable.”
Eventually, the dwarves get in a fight because each one is convinced that the others have better food than he does. After the fight, one says, “At least we haven’t let anyone take us in. The dwarves are for the dwarves.”
“You see,” said Aslan. “They will not let us help them. They have chosen cunning instead of belief. Their prison is only in their own minds, yet they are in that prison; and so afraid of being taken in that they cannot be taken out.” (C S Lewis, The Last Battle selections from pp145-148 (Collier, NY 1980)).

Like the dwarves that do not recognize Aslan when he is standing in their presence, so too do the Pharisees miss seeing Jesus. They want a sign, and God has given them a sign and that sign is Jesus Christ. But they don’t recognize him even when he’s in their presence.
And Jesus wants to make sure that his Disciples have more sense than that. He wants to make sure they are using their senses better than that.
So Jesus gives his disciples a teachable moment. “Do you not remember? When I broke the 5 loaves for the 5,000, how many baskets full of broken pieces did you collect?”
“Twelve”.
“And the seven for the 4,000—how many baskets full of leftovers then?”
“seven”.
“Do you not yet understand?”

I think the clear answer to Jesus on that question is “no, Jesus. We don’t.”
But I think what he’s trying to tell them, trying to tell us, with his questions, is that our worries about not having enough bread in the boat completely miss the point—in each of those situations, scarcity—the worry that you don’t have enough, that you aren’t enough—scarcity is shattered by the abundance of Christ. A few loaves become so much food you’re searching for baskets in which to put the leftovers.
Jesus is calling his disciples to have eyes to see that abundance around them. To remember those moments when the myth of scarcity and anxiety are shattered by abundant grace and love.
But you have to have eyes to see. Like the dwarves in CS Lewis’ book, who are sitting in paradise and think they are in a stable, God can only lead us so far. God can only provide the abundance. We have to be the ones to recognize it, to see it.
So then our text ends with a healing in Bethsaida. A nameless blindman is brought to Jesus. The question Jesus asks him midway through the healing is “can you see anything?”
And Jesus asks us the same question.
Can you see anything?
Do you understand?
This particular healing takes place in stages. At first glance, you wonder if Jesus did it wrong the first time and had to try again. But I think we should see the steps in this healing as a metaphor for the process it takes us to see things clearly. The man can only see partly at first. He can see people, but not with any detail. So Jesus touches him again, the man looks hard, and his sight is restored.
In this particular healing, in light of the text that has come before it, it seems that sight is also a metaphor for insight. It is a reminder for us, perhaps, that even if we have 20/20 vision, we still have to look intently, as the man in Bethsaida did, to really see clearly. The people without sight in this text are probably the Pharisees, and perhaps even the Disciples at some moments.
As you look around your world this week, keep your eyes open for signs of God’s abundance. I don’t mean piles of money lying in the road. But look for gifts and blessings, even in the midst of any spiritual or physical hunger or anxiety you may be feeling.
If you listen to the stories from Haiti these past weeks, there are people who have lost everything. everything. And yet, they gather in the streets and praise God for life. For water shared by neighbors. For food, however they find it.
And you don’t have to go to Haiti to see this. I see it every day. People in hospitals, who have all sorts of reasons for despair, yet see blessings in their lives.
My prayer this week is that we all may have eyes to see, ears to hear, and hearts open to receive the abundant blessings of God. Amen.

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January 11, 2010

So Many Voices

By marciglass

A sermon preached at Southminster Presbyterian Church

January 10, 2010

Proverbs 1:1-16, 20-23
“The proverbs of Solomon son of David, king of Israel:
For learning about wisdom and instruction, for understanding words of insight, for gaining instruction in wise dealing, righteousness, justice, and equity; to teach shrewdness to the simple, knowledge and prudence to the young—
Let the wise also hear and gain in learning, and the discerning acquire skill, to understand a proverb and a figure, the words of the wise and their riddles.

The fear of the LORD is the beginning of knowledge; fools despise wisdom and instruction.

Hear, my child, your father’s instruction, and do not reject your mother’s teaching; for they are a fair garland for your head, and pendants for your neck. My child, if sinners entice you, do not consent. If they say, “Come with us, let us lie in wait for blood, let us wantonly ambush the innocent; like Sheol let us swallow them alive and whole, like those who go down to the Pit. We shall find all kinds of costly things; we shall fill our houses with booty. Throw in your lot among us; we will all have one purse”— my child, do not walk in their way, keep your foot from their paths; for their feet run to evil, and they hurry to shed blood.

Wisdom cries out in the street; in the squares she raises her voice.
At the busiest corner she cries out; at the entrance of the city gates she speaks:
“How long, O simple ones, will you love being simple? How long will scoffers delight in their scoffing and fools hate knowledge? Give heed to my reproof; I will pour out my thoughts to you; I will make my words known to you.”

The text Justin just read for us is from our Year of the Bible reading from Proverbs.
But, before we leave the lectionary again, I want to make note of what today is on the liturgical calendar. Today is the baptism of the Lord Sunday, when we remember Jesus’ baptism in the River Jordan by his cousin, John the Baptist.
Last year, we heard Mark’s account of the baptism. Today, let’s listen to Luke’s account, from chapter 3, beginning in verse 21:

Luke 3:21-22, 4:1-13

Now when all the people were baptized, and when Jesus also had been baptized and was praying, the heaven was opened, and the Holy Spirit descended upon him in bodily form like a dove. And a voice came from heaven, “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.”
Jesus, full of the Holy Spirit, returned from the Jordan and was led by the Spirit in the wilderness, where for forty days he was tempted by the devil. He ate nothing at all during those days, and when they were over, he was famished. The devil said to him, “If you are the Son of God, command this stone to become a loaf of bread.”
Jesus answered him, “It is written, ‘One does not live by bread alone.’”
Then the devil led him up and showed him in an instant all the kingdoms of the world. And the devil said to him, “To you I will give their glory and all this authority; for it has been given over to me, and I give it to anyone I please.
If you, then, will worship me, it will all be yours.”
Jesus answered him, “It is written,
‘Worship the Lord your God,
and serve only him.’”
Then the devil took him to Jerusalem, and placed him on the pinnacle of the temple, saying to him, “If you are the Son of God, throw yourself down from here,
for it is written,
‘He will command his angels concerning you,
to protect you,’
and
‘On their hands they will bear you up,
so that you will not dash your foot against a stone.’”
Jesus answered him, “It is said, ‘Do not put the Lord your God to the test.’”
When the devil had finished every test, he departed from him until an opportune time.

Proverbs is a book of wisdom. This is a genre of literature that is elsewhere in the Bible—Job, Ecclesiastes, Song of Solomon, etc—but it is also a genre of literature found outside of scripture, in other neighboring cultures. Egypt, particularly, produced a lot of wisdom literature, back in the day.

Proverbs claims to be written by Solomon, and perhaps that is so. Earlier in our Year of the Bible readings, we learned that he was credited with writing over 3,000 proverbs (1 Kings 4:32). Perhaps these are among that very large number. If so, that makes him the Stephen King of Proverbs.

In any case, the goal of the proverbs is to both instruct people in the ways of Wisdom and to instill people with a Fear of the Lord.

And it is written in “family” language—a father instructing his son to listen to his parents!
Perhaps, parents, you could consider parts of Proverbs to be a “greatest hits” of the things we tell our kids—
Put on your coat!
Wear clean underwear!
If all your friends jumped off a bridge, would you do it too?
Make Good Choices!

I am kidding, sort of.
But there is something about families that fill us with advice. We want the ones we love to do well. We want them to be healthy, wealthy, and wise, as it were. We don’t want them to go through the heartbreak we’ve experienced.

We want the ones we love to listen to Wisdom as she stands on the corner crying out. We don’t want them to hang out with those ne’er do well thugs.

Note that in the book of Proverbs, we aren’t the wise parents. Or Wisdom herself. We are the unnamed youth who is being instructed to listen to the right voices. We can listen to wisdom. We can listen to our parents. Or we can listen to the thugs who hang out on the street corners with their pants sagging.

While the book of Proverbs talks about fools and teaching shrewdness to the simple, there is also instruction to those who are already wise. “Let the wise also hear and gain in learning”. However much (or little) common sense we already seem to possess, the author of Proverbs wants to remind us that we can always learn. That as long as we are on this journey called life, we are called to continue learning. We are called to keep trying to choose wisdom over foolishness.

Jesus has a similar situation. Conflicting voices are competing for his attention as well. He can listen to the voice of his father—‘you are my son, the beloved. With you I am well pleased”. Or he can listen to the voice of John the Baptizer, which we heard last month during Advent, calling people to live a life worthy of the kingdom of God.

But Jesus’ baptism is different than ours. I hope. Because as soon as his baptism is over, he is led by the Spirit into the wilderness, where he fasted and is tempted by Satan for 40 days.
Or maybe it was just like your baptism. I don’t know.

But Jesus is dealing with conflicting voices, just as the unnamed youth in Proverbs. Just as we do.

Does he listen to the tempting voice of Satan, the tempter, who offers him fame, fortune, and, power? Or does he remember the voice of his parent, “you are my beloved son. With you I am well pleased.”?

We probably think—he’s Jesus—of course he was going to make the right decision!
But comparing these texts this week, I thought about God’s role as parent in this story. God has just told Jesus, “you are my beloved child, with you I am well pleased” and then that Spirit takes Jesus out in to the wilderness. “We know nothing good ever happens in the wilderness! What is he thinking, going out there?!!!”
But God the parent just sits back, thinks, “I’ve instructed him in wisdom, he knows how much he is loved, and I’m sure it will be fine.” deep breath.

And then, like all parents who can’t quite fall asleep until their teenager safely parks the car in the driveway, God waits those 40 days while Jesus is out, hearing all of those other voices.

Jesus does manage to listen to the correct voice. The devil’s offer of fame, power, and wealth doesn’t over power the voice of God, “you are my beloved child. With you I am well pleased.”

Jesus heard the right voice, but we often live our lives as if God’s voice is a distant memory. Or as if we think God were talking to someone else.

One of our understandings of baptism is this—when we are baptized, we are joined with Christ in his baptism. Which means that our lives are bound with his and his with ours. His resurrection will become our resurrection. Our sufferings are his sufferings.

And I’ve said this before, and you’ll hear me say it again. But when God tells Jesus, “you’re my beloved child and with you I am well pleased”, God is telling us the same thing.

Our baptism in this water, or in whatever font where you were baptized, is a baptism into the family of God. We are not God’s beloved children because we’ve earned the right to be. We are not God’s beloved children at the exclusion of some of the other children on this planet. We are God’s beloved children because of the mysterious and unmerited grace of God.

And sometimes that voice from the heavens, reminding us of the love and pleasure God takes in us, sometimes that voice is overshadowed by the voices in the wilderness. Like the unnamed youth in Proverbs, like Jesus in the wilderness, we are called, each day, to listen, again and again, for the right voice. We are called, each day, to follow the right voice.

Last year the children helped me pass out little beads of water so that you could take them home and remember your own baptism whenever you saw your water bead. The font is full, again, with beads of water for you. If you didn’t get one last year, or if you just want another, I invite you to come up to the font and get one during our next hymn.

And above all, in whatever wilderness you may find yourself, listen for the voice of Wisdom, the voice of God, and remember that you are God’s beloved child. In you God is well pleased. Alleluia. Amen.

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November 27, 2008

Thanksgiving Prayer

By marciglass

I hope that each of you has a day full of gratitude. I pray that gratitude is not just saved for one day a year, but may become the air we breathe.
I just received Walter Brueggemann’s new book, “Prayers for a Privileged People”. Here is his prayer for Thanksgiving:
Amid football,
family, and
too much food,
we pause quickly and without inconvenience
to remember and to thank.
We remember ancient pilgrims
who followed dreams of alabaster cities
and financial opportunity;
We remember hospitable first nation people
who welcomed them, and then lost their land;
We remember other family times
filled with joy and
filled with anxiety, and
old scars still powerful.
We thank you for this US venue of
justice and freedom,
and are aware of its flawed reality;
We thank you for our wealth and our safety,
and are aware of how close to poverty we are
and how under threat we live.

We gather our impulse for gratitude today,
grateful to you and to our ancestors,
grateful to you for our families,
our health,
our government,
our many possessions.

We gladly affirm that
“All good gifts around us are sent from heaven above”,
But we yield to none in a sense of self sufficiency,
our weariness in needing to share,
our resentfulness of those who take and do not give.

Your generosity evokes our gratitude,
but your generosity overmatches our gratitude.
We are ready to thank,
but not overly so;
We remember our achievements,
our accomplishments,
our entitlements,
and our responsibilities
that slice away our yielding of ourselves to you.

Move through our half measure of thanks,
and let us be, all through this day,
more risky in acknowledging
that we have nothing except what you give.

You have given so much–not least your only Son.
Gift us the gift of dazzlement and awe
that we may rejoice in our penultimate lives
and keep you ultimate all the day long,
relishing the wonder of your self-giving love.
Amen

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South Minister

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