L Is for Laodicea - Sermon for the 10th Sunday after Pentecost - The Good Book

L Is for Laodicea

Pentecost 10 – Summer Series: The Good Book

July 28, 2024

Our Savior’s, Faribault, MN

Revelation 3.14-22

This past week as I prepared today’s message, I’ve engaged in a bit of fantasy. I’ve wondered what it would be like to be the interim pastor at the church in Laodicea. The Apostle John, perhaps in this case, Bishop John, from his exile on the island of Patmos, has told me my work is cut out for me. At first blush, the church has everything going for it. It is located in a thriving context as Laodicea is a strategic city at the junction of three important trade routes in Asia Minor, our modern-day Turkey. Laodicea is well-known for producing wool and has a medical center that is known for its eye ointment. The church can even boast being founded by Epaphras, a co-worker of the renowned Apostle Paul. As an affluent church, it can afford to pay well beyond the Minimum Compensation Guidelines of the synod. It looks like a plum assignment that would help me ease into retirement.

However, Bishop John warns me, there are serious issues, all rooted in complacency. I have in my hand a letter from John, supposedly dictated by Jesus. I’ve learned that it is one of seven sent to Laodicea and six of its neighbors: Ephesus, Smyrna, Pergamum, Thyatira, Sardis, and Philadelphia. And, from what I’ve heard, it’s the only letter that has absolutely nothing complimentary to say. It uses imagery that makes it clear Jesus knows this church: Laodicea’s own water is so putrid it needs aqueducts to transport water from neighboring Hierapolis, known for its hot springs, and Colossae, for cool waters. Unfortunately, because of the long distance, the water arrives lukewarm and is thus gag worthy.

What’s an interim pastor to do? How will I be received? Will they be able to listen to anything I have to say? Today is the last in a sermon series called“The Good Book: Meeting our Ancestors in Faith One Story at Time.” It’s unique because today’s “ancestor” is a group, not an individual. Furthermore, there doesn’t seem to be any good attributes to commend them. They have lost whatever “hot” zeal they had for sharing the gospel, and have focused on private piety rather than being a voice for change. Thus, Jesus would rather have them to be pagan “cold” than the lukewarm community they are. So, is the lesson to be learned today, “Don’t be like the Laodiceans?” 

Perhaps, but there’s more than that because with God there is always more, and it is always “better” more. The core message to Laodicea is that Jesus loves them deeply and doesn’t give up on them. Jesus stands at their door, knocking persistently, inviting them to turn back toward him and being the kind of community God wants them to be. Even amid the stark imagery, Bishop John reminds the church that God has not called the gifted but rather gifted the called. The Laodiceans have been gifted to be God’s hands at work in the world. To those who much has been given, much is expected. The Laodiceans have a responsibility to use their gifts for the sake of the world.

In a little while we’ll gather in Fellowship Hall to look back on your short 55-year history. We’ll endeavor to be honest about what has happened here, the good, the bad, and even the ugly. Through it all we’ll try to discern where God has been present in, with, and through you in this place. And we’ll use this looking back as a springboard to see what the future might look like as you prepare to call your next lead pastor. As we do so, we’ll remember that God loves you very much and wants you to “taste good.” Amen.

My sermons don't always preach as they are written. For video of the sermon with the entire service, click here.

P Is for Puah - Sermon for the Seventh Sunday after Pentecost - Summer Series

P Is for Puah

Pentecost 7 – Summer Series, “The Good Book”

July 7, 2024

Our Savior’s, Faribault, MN

Exodus 1.8-22

There’s an old proverb that goes back hundreds of years, with several variations, including one from Benjamin Franklin. And there’s even one a century earlier from the poet George Herbert. It’s called, “For Want of a Nail” and goes something like this.

For want of a nail the shoe was lost. / For want of a shoe the horse was lost.
For want of a horse the rider was lost. / For want of a rider the message was lost.
For want of a message the battle was lost. / For want of a battle the kingdom was lost.
And all for the want of a horseshoe nail.

As Wikipedia reminds us of the moral of the proverb, “seemingly unimportant acts or omissions can have grave and unforeseen consequences.” Today we might say, “For want of a baby the Hebrews were lost.” In our scripture reading we meet Puah and by extension her colleague Shiphrah, ancestors in the faith. They seem to be playing bit parts in the dramatic story of Moses and the exodus from Egypt. Yet, had they not played their part, the pivotal event in the life of Israel may not have happened. In addition to the covenant with Abraham that made them God’s chosen people, the exodus from Egypt is the singular defining event for the Jewish people.

Puah and Shiphrah are ordered by the king, also known as pharaoh, to commit mass infanticide by killing the male babies they deliver. He does this because he is fearful that the Hebrews would become even more plentiful and take over the country. (How many times has this story been repeated since humans evolved to walk upright?) It’s unclear in the Hebrew grammar whether Puah and Shiphrah are Hebrew midwives or Egyptian midwives to the Hebrew women, but what is clear is they “fear” God. In other words, they have a relationship with God, one of respect, a relationship they don’t have with Pharaoh.

What is also clear is that these women who deal in life will refuse to deal in death. It is also somewhat ironic that the mighty pharaoh, who is arguably the most important person in that part of the world, has his name lost to us. Yet we know the names of these two seemingly powerless and inconsequential women are not only known but also celebrated. Furthermore, as the story unfolds, it is the women who have agency in the story. In addition to Puah and Shiphrah, Moses’ sister convinces his mother to put him in a basket in the river to save him. And it is pharaoh’s daughter who will rescue baby Moses and raise him as her own. The women collaborate albeit unwittingly to deliver the deliverer.

So, what does it mean that Puah is an ancestor of ours? What has she passed down to us? On the one hand, we want to acknowledge the value of every single life and that is no small thing. Yet we wonder if she and Shiphrah are “spitting into the wind” of pharaoh in an exercise in futility. Will what they do matter? Even so, they acted in faithfulness to God’s call on their lives. They did so even though they had no idea of what was ahead for the Hebrews, that the Hebrews would become a mighty people despite pharaoh’s actions, and that a baby they saved would lead the Hebrews to the Promised Land.

It’s understandable that in looking around our country and our world we would feel despair and hopelessness. We see endless wars, mass shootings, homelessness, inflation, disasters, etc. Yet, as anthropologist Margaret Mead reminds us, “Never underestimate the power of a small group of committed people to change the world. In fact, it is the only thing that ever has.” Puah and Shiphrah remind us that even small acts can produce consequential results.

In fact, the Bible is full of “inconsequential consequential” people, those in positions of power or influence who are able to do neither. But there are far more “consequential inconsequential” people such as Puah and Shiphrah. For example, there’s the seemingly inconsequential youngest of seven sons, a shepherd boy who unites the Hebrew people in a country or disparate 12 tribes. And this King Dave will have a descendant who will give birth to a Jewish rabbi, the son of a carpenter and young virgin woman. This rabbi will assemble a motley group of followers, women and men alike, a small group who will change the world. And through the life and death of this Jesus, God will destroy the powers of death in the second greatest act of deliverance in the Bible, the resurrection to eternal life.

Sometimes we might wonder what difference we can make, how a few pennies or dollar bills in a jar could change someone’s life or put a dent in the great need in our community. Yet these coins and bills can provide a meal in the Community Cafe, help eradicate polio, or provide school supplies for families in need. We don’t always see results, but our ancestors Puah and Shiphrah show us we don’t need to. We simply need to “fear God” and trust for the rest. Even so, we are not without resources because we believe that a handful of water assures us of God’s presence. And, as the Apostle Paul tells us in 1 Corinthians, that he has handed down to us what was handed down to him, that a little bit of bread and wine contain the Creator of the Universe, everything we need to walk the way of our ancestors in faith, including Puah and Shiphrah. Thanks be to God. Amen.

My sermons don't always preach as they are written. For video of the sermon with the entire service, click here.