What Are You Looking For?
Pentecost 23C – Lectionary 33
November 17, 2019
Grace, Waseca, MN
Luke 21.5-19; John 1.35-39a
“Are you a Christian?” she asked, with a hint of excitement mixed with wonder and awe. We were in the break room of a Minnesota fabrics store, she a salesclerk, me a manager trainee. I sensed she was excited to meet a fellow Christian, especially one of the supervisory variety. “Yes,” I admitted, though I didn’t tell her I’d recently returned to the fold after a lengthy absence following Confirmation. Her next question threw me, but didn’t surprise me: “Do you believe that we are in the end times?”
With that question I knew immediately about her particular brand of Christianity, one that focused on Jesus’ supposedly imminent return, especially of the “Late, Great Planet Earth” and “Left Behind” kind. “Yes,” I responded out loud. However, to myself I said, “But not the way you think.” I didn’t know a lot of theology then, but I knew enough that I didn’t want to go down that rabbit hole with her. Fortunately, one or both of us was needed on the sales floor so I didn’t have to pursue it further.
The so-called end times are in view in our Gospel reading from Luke. Those following Jesus are marveling at the architecture of the temple, almost like small town tourists in the big city for the first time. Indeed, the temple was a marvel: enormous stones, stunningly white and overlaid with gold shiningly visible from miles away. So, imagine their shock when Jesus predicts its destruction, which indeed will happen 35 years later. “When will this happen,” they ask, and then they demand the signs signaling its forthcoming.
In his response, Jesus tells them that what they are looking for is not the most important question they should be asking. Yet, at first, it seems as if he answers when he talks about wars, insurrections, famines and earthquakes. But then he shifts the discussion: what does it mean to be a person of faith when times are hard? Being a person of faith when times are hard means that we cannot put our ultimate trust in things that can be thrown down and destroyed. It also means trusting in Christ presence when all those things fail.
Those disciples in Luke’s Gospel trusted an idea of God, one who filled the temple and would overwhelm anyone who would come near. Those followers of John the Baptist who catch sight of Jesus weren’t very sure what they were looking for, but somehow knew that they needed to abide with Jesus for a time, to come and see. They all will learn that being a person of faith when times are hard means being prepared to give testimony to the hope that is within us with the assurance that Jesus is present, giving us what we need.
One thing it means to be a person of faith when times are hard is to make a commitment to the preaching and living out of the gospel. Today we are asking you to make a commitment to God’s mission and ministry through this place. Before I do so, I want to tell you a bit of my story about growing in generosity because I’m not going to ask you to do something that I wouldn’t do. When we married, Cindy informed me we would be tithing to our church (giving 10%). My first thought was, “Does she know how much money we don’t have?” (She’s an accountant and handles our finances. She does.) My second thought was, “I wonder how long this will last?” (It’s lasted 39+ years, but it has not always easy.)
I want to be clear about two things: first, I am not the hero in this story, and neither is my wife. I agreed to tithing out of a sense of duty, “I have to give,” which has some legitimacy. We are all obligated to give our fair share to support the congregations to which we belong. Even so, as I engaged in this practice, it was God’s faithfulness to us that was heroic. Through the practice of tithing I learned to trust in God more deeply than I ever could have imagined. Now, in addition to the obligation of giving my fair share, I have delight in giving even more.
The second thing I want to make perfectly clear is that I am not shaming you into giving. Nor am I even asking you all to become tithers, though that would thrill me to no end if you did so because of what God could do through us.
What I am asking is that you prayerfully consider growing in generosity today. For some of you that mean practicing proportionate giving, going from 2% to 3% or more. For some of you, growing in generosity might mean adding 10% to what you are currently giving. For others, perhaps growing means you are filling out a statement of intent card for the first time. And for still others, maybe growing in giving means showing up today even though you knew we are going to talk about stewardship and giving.
I wish I’d had the wherewithal to ask that young salesclerk, “What are you looking for?” when she asked me the question about end times. Then I might have had the courage to speak words of assurance to her that we have a God who knows what it’s like to be a person of faith when times are hard and encourages to live boldly in both words and deeds. Our Waseca community and beyond need to see and hear the witness of God’s love for us in Jesus Christ. Many are looking for answers in places that won’t last and need us to say, “Come and see the one who does.” Amen.
Sunday, November 17, 2019
Sunday, November 3, 2019
"For All the Saints" - Sermon for All Saints Sunday
For All the Saints
All Saints Sunday
November 3, 2019
Grace, Waseca, MN
Luke 6.20-31
On All Saints Sunday, I can’t help thinking about those in my family who have passed away. Certainly, my mom and dad, who died too early and didn’t see their granddaughters grow up into the fine young women they are. There are my Grandma and Grandpa Olson, who died before I was born and whom I never knew. There are various aunts, uncles, and cousins many of whom also died too young. Then there is my Grandma Johnson, who died when I was sixteen. And in a moment of borderline heresy, I think of our first dog, Chipper, who was hit by a care when I was just a few years old and other pets who we dearly loved.
But it’s my Grandpa Johnson I’m really thinking about today, whom I didn’t know as well as I would have liked. That’s because Grandpa Johnson lived in Spokane and we lived in the Cities, a long way for a visit. But when he did come to visit, we’d put out a dish with jellybeans and a rubber band because he liked to shoot them at us. Though it was a bit uncomfortable at the time, we did devotions every night.
When I was much older, I learned why Grandpa Johnson and most of my aunts, uncles and cousins lived in the Spokane area. Grandpa Johnson’s father had walked away from the family when he was 10, the oldest of four, and so Grandpa Johnson became very self-reliant. Before WWII he had a milk can re-tinning business in Rice Lake, WI that he turned into a truck body plant. (If you see a Schwan’s Truck, look for a little plate to the right of the driver’s door. It will say “Johnson Truck Body.” That was my Grandpa’s company.)
I say “was” because he was so busy, Grandpa Johnson brought in his brothers into the business to help. Long story short, they eventually forced him out of the business he started. Rather than fighting them, Grandpa Johnson took Grandma, most of my mom’s sisters and brothers, and headed west. The story goes that Grandpa Johnson would have gone all the way to the Pacific Ocean, but grandma stopped him at Spokane and said, “This is far enough.”
Now, Grandpa Johnson had built boats as a hobby in Rice Lake and so he started Herb Craft, among the first to use fiberglass in boats. Grandpa Johnson was quite the inventor, the first to design the V-shaped snowplow, but never cared to patent anything. He was a stocky man with a barrel chest and thighs like tree trunks, but he was one of the gentlest men I’ve known.
I also think about Grandpa Johnson because he “turned the other cheek” in a way I’d find hard to emulate. In our Gospel reading today, Jesus asks us to live up to an almost impossible standard: love our enemies, do good to those who hate us, bless those who curse us, and pray for our abusers. Clearly Jesus has never spent time on Facebook or Twitter. Or perhaps maybe he has… He also wants us to consider that those things we consider blessings aren’t always blessings and vice versa. Now, we must take great care not to pull these verses out of context and encourage victimization. But we must also not dismiss Jesus’ call to find life in the places that our society and culture don’t.
Now, I know that Grandpa Johnson wasn’t perfect because none of us are. I also know that because of his humble nature he would protest being idolized, rightfully so, because that’s not the point of the story. I think Grandpa Johnson would have said that he was an ordinary person with an extraordinary God, someone who tried to live his life as Jesus invites us to live, not to bring in the kingdom but to get a glimpse of it in our lives. Grandpa Johnson is a saint because he was set aside by God in his baptism and because he is gathered in heaven with all those I have mentioned and more. But he is also a saint because he tried to let the light of Christ shine through the cracks in his life.
Jesus calls us to a new way of being in the world, not measured by what we have or what we are as much as it is how we respond to God’s love, grace and mercy, especially when we don’t deserve it. As you come forward to light a candle for your loved ones, I hope you’ll remember your Grandpa Johnsons whose lives inspire you, but I hope you’ll also remember those who were a bit more “cracked” as well. Maybe, just maybe, there will be someone who will remember you, saints of God, who through your baptisms have been set aside by God to be bearers of Christ’s light. Amen.
All Saints Sunday
November 3, 2019
Grace, Waseca, MN
Luke 6.20-31
On All Saints Sunday, I can’t help thinking about those in my family who have passed away. Certainly, my mom and dad, who died too early and didn’t see their granddaughters grow up into the fine young women they are. There are my Grandma and Grandpa Olson, who died before I was born and whom I never knew. There are various aunts, uncles, and cousins many of whom also died too young. Then there is my Grandma Johnson, who died when I was sixteen. And in a moment of borderline heresy, I think of our first dog, Chipper, who was hit by a care when I was just a few years old and other pets who we dearly loved.
But it’s my Grandpa Johnson I’m really thinking about today, whom I didn’t know as well as I would have liked. That’s because Grandpa Johnson lived in Spokane and we lived in the Cities, a long way for a visit. But when he did come to visit, we’d put out a dish with jellybeans and a rubber band because he liked to shoot them at us. Though it was a bit uncomfortable at the time, we did devotions every night.
When I was much older, I learned why Grandpa Johnson and most of my aunts, uncles and cousins lived in the Spokane area. Grandpa Johnson’s father had walked away from the family when he was 10, the oldest of four, and so Grandpa Johnson became very self-reliant. Before WWII he had a milk can re-tinning business in Rice Lake, WI that he turned into a truck body plant. (If you see a Schwan’s Truck, look for a little plate to the right of the driver’s door. It will say “Johnson Truck Body.” That was my Grandpa’s company.)
I say “was” because he was so busy, Grandpa Johnson brought in his brothers into the business to help. Long story short, they eventually forced him out of the business he started. Rather than fighting them, Grandpa Johnson took Grandma, most of my mom’s sisters and brothers, and headed west. The story goes that Grandpa Johnson would have gone all the way to the Pacific Ocean, but grandma stopped him at Spokane and said, “This is far enough.”
Now, Grandpa Johnson had built boats as a hobby in Rice Lake and so he started Herb Craft, among the first to use fiberglass in boats. Grandpa Johnson was quite the inventor, the first to design the V-shaped snowplow, but never cared to patent anything. He was a stocky man with a barrel chest and thighs like tree trunks, but he was one of the gentlest men I’ve known.
I also think about Grandpa Johnson because he “turned the other cheek” in a way I’d find hard to emulate. In our Gospel reading today, Jesus asks us to live up to an almost impossible standard: love our enemies, do good to those who hate us, bless those who curse us, and pray for our abusers. Clearly Jesus has never spent time on Facebook or Twitter. Or perhaps maybe he has… He also wants us to consider that those things we consider blessings aren’t always blessings and vice versa. Now, we must take great care not to pull these verses out of context and encourage victimization. But we must also not dismiss Jesus’ call to find life in the places that our society and culture don’t.
Now, I know that Grandpa Johnson wasn’t perfect because none of us are. I also know that because of his humble nature he would protest being idolized, rightfully so, because that’s not the point of the story. I think Grandpa Johnson would have said that he was an ordinary person with an extraordinary God, someone who tried to live his life as Jesus invites us to live, not to bring in the kingdom but to get a glimpse of it in our lives. Grandpa Johnson is a saint because he was set aside by God in his baptism and because he is gathered in heaven with all those I have mentioned and more. But he is also a saint because he tried to let the light of Christ shine through the cracks in his life.
Jesus calls us to a new way of being in the world, not measured by what we have or what we are as much as it is how we respond to God’s love, grace and mercy, especially when we don’t deserve it. As you come forward to light a candle for your loved ones, I hope you’ll remember your Grandpa Johnsons whose lives inspire you, but I hope you’ll also remember those who were a bit more “cracked” as well. Maybe, just maybe, there will be someone who will remember you, saints of God, who through your baptisms have been set aside by God to be bearers of Christ’s light. Amen.
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