Rolling on the River
Pentecost 25 – Narrative Lectionary 4
November 10, 2013
Grace, Mankato, MN
Amos 1.1-2; 5.14-15, 21-24
One day, as an undergrad at Gustavus Adolphus College, I walked into the cafeteria and went over to my friend, Dave. Totally unexpectedly, Dave snapped, “I don’t have time for you today, Scott.” I was completely caught off-guard and walked away shamed and bewildered. Later, I was able to talk with Dave and learn that I had said something in jest but was hurtful to Dave. I apologized and we continue as friends today. However, that day I had abused our relationship. I had taken our friendship for granted and, as painful as it was, Dave was right to tell me about it.
In our reading today, we hear the words made famous by Martin Luther King, Jr in his “I Have a Dream” speech: “Let justice roll down like waters, and righteousness like an everflowing stream.” Yet, as powerful as they are, we must not ignore the context in which they are spoken. Like me and my relationship with Dave, the people of the Northern Kingdom of Israel are taking their relationship with God for granted, abusing it with actions that are contrary to their words.
Life is very good in Israel. Their leadership is strong and they have rest from their enemies all around them. People are prosperous, being able to afford luxurious country houses as well as city houses. Business is booming at the temple, people are generous with their donations, and the house is packed. Yet, right outside the temple, the smaller farmers are being charged exorbitant land rents and receive less of the crop than they should. Furthermore, when they seek justice in the courts, they can’t afford to buy justice like the wealthy landowners can. Furthermore, the most vulnerable, the widows and orphans who are especially close to God’s heart, are being neglected.
Unlike last week’s prophet, Elijah, who is burned-out and struggling to hear God’s still, small voice, Amos is on fire, doing more forth-telling than foretelling, relating God’s hair-parting roar to the people. Intolerant of complacency, he raises warning flags, reminding the Israelites that God has a claim on our behavior and that going through the religious motions is not acceptable to God. This is one God who is not neutral on matters of good and evil, and not afraid to say so.
Through the image of moving water, Amos wants us to know that justice is dynamic and moving. As it says in Micah 6.8, we are to do justice as well as to love kindness as we walk humbly with God. Justice is a surging, churning, cleansing stream. Also, Amos reminds us that justice is responsive: because God loves us, we respond in just acts toward others. Moreover, it is not simply enough for us to do loving acts, we are to become advocates for the powerless, giving voice against the systems of injustice for those who have no voice.
As I worked with the text this week, I was sure that using it to browbeat you wouldn’t be very helpful. Think about what we do for the less-advantaged through places such as ECHO Foodshelf, Habitat for Humanity, Salvation Army, Crossroads, Pathstone, Lutheran Social Services, Jesus Food, Teresa House, Global Eye Mission, Edith White, and others. These don’t even include what we do through the Southeastern Minnesota Synod and the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America. When it comes to justice, we roll on this river. Yet, what keeps me awake at nights isn’t wondering if we are doing enough, it’s wondering if we are doing too much or if we are even doing the right things.
Newly-elected Bishop Steve Delzer just announced that our synod is going to focus on eliminating food insecurity in the next five years, inviting congregations to partner and collaborate to do so. I wonder about our role in this as we are doing a lot already. I think that we need to look at the systemic causes of the injustices and work to eliminate them, not just feed people. These are huge tasks, and we certainly can’t do it all, but can we step back and discover God’s leading? I don’t have the answers, but Amos prompts us to ask the questions, to seek God’s call on us.
One last thing: although we are left struggling with how to faithfully answer God’s call, we are also left with a good and encouraging word: Amos doesn’t just speak justice, he speaks hope. Like my relationship with Dave, relationships can be repaired and life is to be found in serving good. What we need to remember that it isn’t us; it is God’s abundant and life-giving water flowing in, with, and through us that is key. As we have this conversation about God’s call on us, we do so drinking from the fount of blessing, Jesus Christ. Thanks be to God! Amen.
Sunday, November 10, 2013
Sunday, November 3, 2013
"On the Strength of that Food" - Sermon for All Saints
On the Strength of that Food
All Saints – Narrative Lectionary 4
November 3, 2013
Grace, Mankato, MN
1 Kings 19.1-18; John 12.27-28
Elijah is deep in the wilderness, fleeing for his life from the rage of Queen Jezebel. He is alone and full of despair. It isn’t an easy gig being a prophet of the Lord in the Northern Kingdom with its corrupt rulers, such as King Ahab and Queen Jezebel. They are not only corrupt, but have forsaken the Lord for the Phoenician god Baal. Interestingly, Elijah is fresh off of what would make the highlight reel of any prophet’s career, the killing of Baal’s prophets after Elijah has called down fire from heaven. Now, with a price on his head, Elijah gets as far away as he can and then still farther into the wilderness.
When the word wilderness pops up our ears should perk up because it is both an important place and an important metaphor in the Bible. There are too many stories to rehearse here, but it is a place the Israelites wandered for 40 years until they could enter the Promised Land and it is where Jesus is tempted by Satan 40 days and nights. The wilderness is a dangerous and scary place, with wild animals and bleak landscape. A place of fear and danger in its own right, it also becomes major metaphor for the life of faith.
As I think about this image as it relates to our lives, it seems there are two types of wildernesses. The first type is the wilderness into which we are thrust, not of our own choosing or making. The loss of a job, the illness or death of a loved one, a divorce we didn’t seek or want; all these are wildernesses. The second type of wilderness is the one we retreat to or create for ourselves, escaping the stresses and strains of life. These are the wildernesses of TV, the internet, drugs, alcohol, sleeping, eating, working out, or running away. In both cases, we wind up in places that we never imagined we’d find ourselves, feeling alone and abandoned.
It’s ironic that within the last few days as I’ve been working on this text that I’ve received links on Facebook to two disturbing articles. The first was from a former parishioner and it was about the epidemic of clergy burnout being felt across all denominations and faith groups. The second was a story about how clergy have the 8th highest number of psychopaths in their profession. (By the way, CEO and Lawyers are numbers one and two.) Perhaps retreating into the wilderness of Facebook is not as good idea as I think. The reality is that all of us have those times when we despair and want to give up because of our circumstances. We all have those times when we retreat into unhealthy places or activities.
The good news today is that, in those times and places we never dreamed of finding ourselves, like Elijah we are not as alone as we think we are, for God meets us in the midst of our wilderness. And as with Elijah, God shows up in the places we least expect providing what we need. There have been countless times I have been in a wilderness spot and a kind word of encouragement has allowed me to go “on the strength of that food” for many days and nights.
Today we celebrate All Saints, a time to remember those who have gone before us. We tend to think of a saint as someone is good, someone who is dead, or someone good and dead, like St. Paul or St. Mary. But in today’s context, we can say that saints are people like you and me who are met by God in moments of despair and emptiness, who don’t always feel God’s presence and may even struggle with it. Saints are people like you and me who cling to the promise that God meets us in our sufferings, but also promises not to leave us there, because God has given everyone of us a purpose.
We believe that God will not only deliver us from our wildernesses, but also for something else. Each of us has a next. As we read the list of names, light candles for those we miss, and are surrounded by them as we receive Communion, we go on the strength of that food, the body and blood of Jesus Christ. Where is the wilderness you find yourself in today, either of your choosing or not? Know that God is with you there, but will not leave you there, for God has a future for you. May you go on the strength of that food, sustained by the very presence of God. Amen.
All Saints – Narrative Lectionary 4
November 3, 2013
Grace, Mankato, MN
1 Kings 19.1-18; John 12.27-28
Elijah is deep in the wilderness, fleeing for his life from the rage of Queen Jezebel. He is alone and full of despair. It isn’t an easy gig being a prophet of the Lord in the Northern Kingdom with its corrupt rulers, such as King Ahab and Queen Jezebel. They are not only corrupt, but have forsaken the Lord for the Phoenician god Baal. Interestingly, Elijah is fresh off of what would make the highlight reel of any prophet’s career, the killing of Baal’s prophets after Elijah has called down fire from heaven. Now, with a price on his head, Elijah gets as far away as he can and then still farther into the wilderness.
When the word wilderness pops up our ears should perk up because it is both an important place and an important metaphor in the Bible. There are too many stories to rehearse here, but it is a place the Israelites wandered for 40 years until they could enter the Promised Land and it is where Jesus is tempted by Satan 40 days and nights. The wilderness is a dangerous and scary place, with wild animals and bleak landscape. A place of fear and danger in its own right, it also becomes major metaphor for the life of faith.
As I think about this image as it relates to our lives, it seems there are two types of wildernesses. The first type is the wilderness into which we are thrust, not of our own choosing or making. The loss of a job, the illness or death of a loved one, a divorce we didn’t seek or want; all these are wildernesses. The second type of wilderness is the one we retreat to or create for ourselves, escaping the stresses and strains of life. These are the wildernesses of TV, the internet, drugs, alcohol, sleeping, eating, working out, or running away. In both cases, we wind up in places that we never imagined we’d find ourselves, feeling alone and abandoned.
It’s ironic that within the last few days as I’ve been working on this text that I’ve received links on Facebook to two disturbing articles. The first was from a former parishioner and it was about the epidemic of clergy burnout being felt across all denominations and faith groups. The second was a story about how clergy have the 8th highest number of psychopaths in their profession. (By the way, CEO and Lawyers are numbers one and two.) Perhaps retreating into the wilderness of Facebook is not as good idea as I think. The reality is that all of us have those times when we despair and want to give up because of our circumstances. We all have those times when we retreat into unhealthy places or activities.
The good news today is that, in those times and places we never dreamed of finding ourselves, like Elijah we are not as alone as we think we are, for God meets us in the midst of our wilderness. And as with Elijah, God shows up in the places we least expect providing what we need. There have been countless times I have been in a wilderness spot and a kind word of encouragement has allowed me to go “on the strength of that food” for many days and nights.
Today we celebrate All Saints, a time to remember those who have gone before us. We tend to think of a saint as someone is good, someone who is dead, or someone good and dead, like St. Paul or St. Mary. But in today’s context, we can say that saints are people like you and me who are met by God in moments of despair and emptiness, who don’t always feel God’s presence and may even struggle with it. Saints are people like you and me who cling to the promise that God meets us in our sufferings, but also promises not to leave us there, because God has given everyone of us a purpose.
We believe that God will not only deliver us from our wildernesses, but also for something else. Each of us has a next. As we read the list of names, light candles for those we miss, and are surrounded by them as we receive Communion, we go on the strength of that food, the body and blood of Jesus Christ. Where is the wilderness you find yourself in today, either of your choosing or not? Know that God is with you there, but will not leave you there, for God has a future for you. May you go on the strength of that food, sustained by the very presence of God. Amen.
Sunday, October 27, 2013
"In This Place" - Sermon for Reformation Sunday
In This Place
Reformation – Narrative Lectionary Year 4
October 27, 2013
Grace, Mankato, MN
1 Kings 5.1-5, 8.1-13; John 2.19-21
Whenever I fly, which isn’t very often, I love sitting by the window and looking out. In addition to enjoying the scenery, I try to identify landmarks to determine where we are. Flying back from Washington State, wondering if I’d fly over Taft Park, the flight path that went agonizingly close to my home where I grew up in east Richfield. Indeed, that’s where we were coming in, but it was a melancholy experience. Instead of my home, there was a parking lot of a Home Depot. Most of the houses, including ours, had been razed or moved because of the airport and became commercial property.
I have come to appreciate the importance of places: Rice Lake, WI, where my mother grew up; and Ft. Snelling, where a maker stands in memory of my parents. On my bucket list is 3301 Texas Ave., St. Louis Park where I spent the first five years of my life and I haven’t been back to since. Of course, it’s not just the places that are important, but the experiences we have had and people we have met. They are so important that when they aren’t there we feel diminished and disconnected in some way.
The heart of today’s focus scripture is a place, perhaps the most important one in the Bible. Solomon, David’s son, is given permission to do what was denied his father: build a temple. The reason is that David was a man of war and the temple would not be a symbol of triumphalism. Temples and palaces were routinely built by newly crowned kings as monuments to themselves. The building projects were political moves, meant to consolidate their power. However, this temple would be built on God’s terms and for God’s purposes, not for any monarch’s political gain, even David’s.
This temple would also be different because it would be one of encounter rather than containment. The writer of 1 Kings clearly states that, although God’s glory fills the temple, God is not limited to the temple. After all, God is Lord of heaven and earth. Prior to this building of the temple, the Ark of the Covenant, symbol of God’s presence, has been in a tent. Though God refuses to be pinned down, God’s presence in the temple assures them that they now have the place that God had promised to their ancestors long ago. They won’t be abandoned. Even so, they will forget this lesson 300 years later when the temple is destroyed and they are exiled into Babylon.
In fact, the temple will be rebuilt by Ezra and Nehemiah, and subsequently destroyed a second time, and then a third during and after Jesus’ presence. So, Jesus startles the people when he claims he is now the temple, the locus of God’s divine presence. Jesus is now that place where we not only meet God, but God takes the initiative to meet us. This is a temple that when it is destroyed will be raised up on the third day and live forever. I in Jesus we see most clearly that God can be anywhere God chooses to be, but God promises to be in certain places for us to meet him. In “Solomon’s” Temple, the word in the form of the stone tablets, the Law is at the center; in Jesus, the Word is the center.
Five hundred years ago, a building project was the precipitating nit that Martin Luther picked with the church of the time. Though Luther didn’t object to the church being built, he did object to financing it through indulgences, “get into heaven cards” sold to unsuspecting peasants. He claimed that the church had no right to sell what God had freely given, God’s love in Jesus Christ. By the way, lest we Protestants get too snotty, we should remember that we have skeletons in our own ecclesial closets.
This past Wednesday night I asked folk, “Why are you here?” Answers were varied. “I was welcomed here and people remembered me when I came back.” “I felt acceptance for who I am.” “Our family has a long history here.” They all add up to one thing: to have an experience of the living God who, though can be anywhere, promises to be here. God meets us in the waters of baptism, making us his children. God is in, with, and under the bread and wine of Holy Communion, offering forgiveness and life. God meets us spoken words of grace and mercy. This sense of place is so critical in the time of “spiritual, but not religious”; God knows we need places like this to have an encounter with him.
Our leadership, in conversation with you all, have determined that we need to consider a building renovation project of our own next year, not as a monument to God but as a place of encounter. God willing, it will be to further support the mission and ministry God calls us to do here. It will continue to be a place for people to experience the graciously given love and acceptance of God. It will be a place where people can come and grow in the life of faith and be sent into the world, a hurting world that needs to hear the good news of God’s love. It will be a place where we can encounter the Word made flesh, whose death gives us life. Thanks be to God. Amen.
Reformation – Narrative Lectionary Year 4
October 27, 2013
Grace, Mankato, MN
1 Kings 5.1-5, 8.1-13; John 2.19-21
Whenever I fly, which isn’t very often, I love sitting by the window and looking out. In addition to enjoying the scenery, I try to identify landmarks to determine where we are. Flying back from Washington State, wondering if I’d fly over Taft Park, the flight path that went agonizingly close to my home where I grew up in east Richfield. Indeed, that’s where we were coming in, but it was a melancholy experience. Instead of my home, there was a parking lot of a Home Depot. Most of the houses, including ours, had been razed or moved because of the airport and became commercial property.
I have come to appreciate the importance of places: Rice Lake, WI, where my mother grew up; and Ft. Snelling, where a maker stands in memory of my parents. On my bucket list is 3301 Texas Ave., St. Louis Park where I spent the first five years of my life and I haven’t been back to since. Of course, it’s not just the places that are important, but the experiences we have had and people we have met. They are so important that when they aren’t there we feel diminished and disconnected in some way.
The heart of today’s focus scripture is a place, perhaps the most important one in the Bible. Solomon, David’s son, is given permission to do what was denied his father: build a temple. The reason is that David was a man of war and the temple would not be a symbol of triumphalism. Temples and palaces were routinely built by newly crowned kings as monuments to themselves. The building projects were political moves, meant to consolidate their power. However, this temple would be built on God’s terms and for God’s purposes, not for any monarch’s political gain, even David’s.
This temple would also be different because it would be one of encounter rather than containment. The writer of 1 Kings clearly states that, although God’s glory fills the temple, God is not limited to the temple. After all, God is Lord of heaven and earth. Prior to this building of the temple, the Ark of the Covenant, symbol of God’s presence, has been in a tent. Though God refuses to be pinned down, God’s presence in the temple assures them that they now have the place that God had promised to their ancestors long ago. They won’t be abandoned. Even so, they will forget this lesson 300 years later when the temple is destroyed and they are exiled into Babylon.
In fact, the temple will be rebuilt by Ezra and Nehemiah, and subsequently destroyed a second time, and then a third during and after Jesus’ presence. So, Jesus startles the people when he claims he is now the temple, the locus of God’s divine presence. Jesus is now that place where we not only meet God, but God takes the initiative to meet us. This is a temple that when it is destroyed will be raised up on the third day and live forever. I in Jesus we see most clearly that God can be anywhere God chooses to be, but God promises to be in certain places for us to meet him. In “Solomon’s” Temple, the word in the form of the stone tablets, the Law is at the center; in Jesus, the Word is the center.
Five hundred years ago, a building project was the precipitating nit that Martin Luther picked with the church of the time. Though Luther didn’t object to the church being built, he did object to financing it through indulgences, “get into heaven cards” sold to unsuspecting peasants. He claimed that the church had no right to sell what God had freely given, God’s love in Jesus Christ. By the way, lest we Protestants get too snotty, we should remember that we have skeletons in our own ecclesial closets.
This past Wednesday night I asked folk, “Why are you here?” Answers were varied. “I was welcomed here and people remembered me when I came back.” “I felt acceptance for who I am.” “Our family has a long history here.” They all add up to one thing: to have an experience of the living God who, though can be anywhere, promises to be here. God meets us in the waters of baptism, making us his children. God is in, with, and under the bread and wine of Holy Communion, offering forgiveness and life. God meets us spoken words of grace and mercy. This sense of place is so critical in the time of “spiritual, but not religious”; God knows we need places like this to have an encounter with him.
Our leadership, in conversation with you all, have determined that we need to consider a building renovation project of our own next year, not as a monument to God but as a place of encounter. God willing, it will be to further support the mission and ministry God calls us to do here. It will continue to be a place for people to experience the graciously given love and acceptance of God. It will be a place where people can come and grow in the life of faith and be sent into the world, a hurting world that needs to hear the good news of God’s love. It will be a place where we can encounter the Word made flesh, whose death gives us life. Thanks be to God. Amen.
Sunday, October 20, 2013
"The Heart of the Matter" - Sermon for the 22nd Sunday after Pentecost
The Heart of the Matter
Pentecost 22 – Narrative Lectionary 4
October 20, 2013
Grace, Mankato, MN
1 Samuel 16.1-13; Psalm 51.10-14
Our trip through the Old Testament story presents us with another call story in a long line of call stories. In fact, one way to read the Bible is to see it as ways that God invites us into his unfolding vision to love and bless the world. Last week it was Samuel, who is now grown up and has the responsibility for anointing a new king. Saul, the first and current king, has messed up royally, rejecting God’s commands and acting on his own, so much so that we are told that God repents making him king, much to Samuel’s chagrin. A new king is needed, one who is after God’s own heart, though we aren’t told directly what that means.
We are told that this new king will not be chosen by his appearance, which was apparently a common practice in Samuel’s day. When Saul was chosen we learn that “there was not a man … more handsome than he; he stood head and shoulders above everyone else.” Did you know that in virtually all of the modern presidential elections the taller candidate has won? It seems that not much has changed in 3,000 years.
Appearances don’t only count when it comes to celebrities or politics. Billions are spent on market studies and focus groups to determine what people like or don’t like. Brand names are on everything, right down to the water we drink. And in an odd twist, blue jeans with holes in the right places are more valued and expensive. As country western singer Dolly Parton said in an interview on 20/20: “It costs a lot of money to make a person look this cheap.”
So, it’s a breath of fresh air to those of us who aren’t so tall or good-looking that God is going to use a different standard when it comes to the new king because God sees differently than we do. Furthermore, we are reminded that God continually picks the least likely person for his purposes. (Even so, after David is brought in the narrator can’t help but gush about his good looks. When I meet with couples for pre-marriage counseling I ask what attracted them to each other and what do they appreciate about each other, they always list admirable qualities such as a sense of humor and being able to talk openly. Then, almost as an after-thought they add “hotness.”)
So, our first reaction is a fist-pump that God looks on our hearts, but that quickly gives way to a second: NO! I’m pretty sure I don’t want God looking into my heart, because I know what’s in there. Sure, there’s a fair amount of love for my family, gratitude for the blessings I have, compassion for those who are less fortunate, joy in the work I am called to do, and hope for the future. But I also know there’s far too much bitterness for past hurts, jealousy of others more talented or fortunate, dissatisfaction for what I don’t have, sorrow for how much I fall short, and despair over the direction our country and world is headed.
Well, if the Bible is anything, it is brutally honest about the human condition. Even David, someone after God’s own heart, acknowledges such with one of the most poignant Psalms in the Bible, Psalm 51. David, who lusted after another man’s wife, impregnated her and arranged for his death, is confronted by the prophet Nathan about his sin. David then asks God to create in him a clean heart and renewing a right spirit, praying that God will not break off their relationship. So, how is it that David would be the standard that neither he nor others could live up to? The Bible never tells us directly what it means to be someone after God’s own heart; we have to infer that from the surrounding story and make some educated guesses.
I don’t know for sure, but I want to propose some possibilities and let you try them on. First, I think that David was different from Saul in that he was open to God’s will for his life. Saul defied God in some important matters, effectively saying that he knew better than God did how to handle things. Second, David trusts God for what he needs, unlike Saul who takes matters into his own hands. Third, unlike Saul, who thinks he knows best, David seeks God’s counsel in what to do. Having a Godly heart may mean being open to God, trusting God, and asking for God’s guidance.
So, our story today doesn’t order us to check our hearts to see if they are godly so much as it invites us into a deeper relationship with God, where we humbly open ourselves to God by seeking God’s vision for us. This call on our lives doesn’t demand perfection, but rather calls us to discover who God has made us a person and live more fully into that kind of person God calls us to be. When we fall short or mess it up, as we most surely will, the true King, God in the flesh, will call us to himself, embrace us with love and forgiveness, and send strengthen us to go at it again. That really is the heart of the matter isn’t it, a God who says to each of us, “You are the one. Thanks be to God! Amen.
Pentecost 22 – Narrative Lectionary 4
October 20, 2013
Grace, Mankato, MN
1 Samuel 16.1-13; Psalm 51.10-14
Our trip through the Old Testament story presents us with another call story in a long line of call stories. In fact, one way to read the Bible is to see it as ways that God invites us into his unfolding vision to love and bless the world. Last week it was Samuel, who is now grown up and has the responsibility for anointing a new king. Saul, the first and current king, has messed up royally, rejecting God’s commands and acting on his own, so much so that we are told that God repents making him king, much to Samuel’s chagrin. A new king is needed, one who is after God’s own heart, though we aren’t told directly what that means.
We are told that this new king will not be chosen by his appearance, which was apparently a common practice in Samuel’s day. When Saul was chosen we learn that “there was not a man … more handsome than he; he stood head and shoulders above everyone else.” Did you know that in virtually all of the modern presidential elections the taller candidate has won? It seems that not much has changed in 3,000 years.
Appearances don’t only count when it comes to celebrities or politics. Billions are spent on market studies and focus groups to determine what people like or don’t like. Brand names are on everything, right down to the water we drink. And in an odd twist, blue jeans with holes in the right places are more valued and expensive. As country western singer Dolly Parton said in an interview on 20/20: “It costs a lot of money to make a person look this cheap.”
So, it’s a breath of fresh air to those of us who aren’t so tall or good-looking that God is going to use a different standard when it comes to the new king because God sees differently than we do. Furthermore, we are reminded that God continually picks the least likely person for his purposes. (Even so, after David is brought in the narrator can’t help but gush about his good looks. When I meet with couples for pre-marriage counseling I ask what attracted them to each other and what do they appreciate about each other, they always list admirable qualities such as a sense of humor and being able to talk openly. Then, almost as an after-thought they add “hotness.”)
So, our first reaction is a fist-pump that God looks on our hearts, but that quickly gives way to a second: NO! I’m pretty sure I don’t want God looking into my heart, because I know what’s in there. Sure, there’s a fair amount of love for my family, gratitude for the blessings I have, compassion for those who are less fortunate, joy in the work I am called to do, and hope for the future. But I also know there’s far too much bitterness for past hurts, jealousy of others more talented or fortunate, dissatisfaction for what I don’t have, sorrow for how much I fall short, and despair over the direction our country and world is headed.
Well, if the Bible is anything, it is brutally honest about the human condition. Even David, someone after God’s own heart, acknowledges such with one of the most poignant Psalms in the Bible, Psalm 51. David, who lusted after another man’s wife, impregnated her and arranged for his death, is confronted by the prophet Nathan about his sin. David then asks God to create in him a clean heart and renewing a right spirit, praying that God will not break off their relationship. So, how is it that David would be the standard that neither he nor others could live up to? The Bible never tells us directly what it means to be someone after God’s own heart; we have to infer that from the surrounding story and make some educated guesses.
I don’t know for sure, but I want to propose some possibilities and let you try them on. First, I think that David was different from Saul in that he was open to God’s will for his life. Saul defied God in some important matters, effectively saying that he knew better than God did how to handle things. Second, David trusts God for what he needs, unlike Saul who takes matters into his own hands. Third, unlike Saul, who thinks he knows best, David seeks God’s counsel in what to do. Having a Godly heart may mean being open to God, trusting God, and asking for God’s guidance.
So, our story today doesn’t order us to check our hearts to see if they are godly so much as it invites us into a deeper relationship with God, where we humbly open ourselves to God by seeking God’s vision for us. This call on our lives doesn’t demand perfection, but rather calls us to discover who God has made us a person and live more fully into that kind of person God calls us to be. When we fall short or mess it up, as we most surely will, the true King, God in the flesh, will call us to himself, embrace us with love and forgiveness, and send strengthen us to go at it again. That really is the heart of the matter isn’t it, a God who says to each of us, “You are the one. Thanks be to God! Amen.
Sunday, October 6, 2013
"Test and See" - Sermon for the 20th Sunday after Pentecost
Test and See
Exodus 16.1-18 Manna
Pentecost 20
October 6, 2013
Grace, Mankato, MN
We make another narrative leap today, though not as large as last week’s story about Moses’ commission to lead the Israelites. Moses has indeed succeeded in securing the Israelites’ freedom from Egyptian slavery via the 10 plagues. They have crossed the miraculously parted Red Sea and are now six weeks into their journey to the Promised Land. The bloom is off the rose of freedom and the realities of the journey ahead set in. So, now come the questions, questions about God and God’s provision for them, and about Moses’ leadership. In a story that is also our story, the Israelites make a startling discovery while experience a testing of sorts.
Fresh out of college and with no grad school prospects, I entered a management training program with Minnesota Fabrics, a retail fabric chain. The company had an extensive and intensive program where we learned everything from the ground up. The store manager would quiz us on a unit then the group manager would come in and check us off and approve us for moving on to the next level. In my first such unit and test I failed miserably. I learned later that I was almost fired, but at the urging of the store manager was given a second chance. I now knew what I didn’t know and set about learning it. That experience was a kick in the pants for me, a different sort of test, the kind that determines what you are made of and how you will respond to life.
As the Israelites looked back and preserved this memory of their time in the wilderness, they understood that God was working in, with, and through them in a way they hadn’t seen before. They were afraid, so much so that their awful Egyptian slavery looked better than the uncertainty of the journey ahead. What was hard for them to see at the time was that God was preparing them for life in the Promised Land. They needed to learn to trust God for everything and God helped them learn that through the gift of manna. As Beth Tanner notes, “Their bodies may be free from slavery, but it will take much more to free their minds and hearts.” Like my experience at Minnesota Fabrics, God was working in, with, and through them to bring them to a new place.
This past week I had the opportunity to attend the Nobel Conference at Gustavus Adolphus College, “The Universe at Its Limits.” There were many wonder-filled moments, but one highlights an aspect of today’s story. Dr. Samuel Ting, Nobel Laureate and professor of physics at MIT, shared his latest work to launch the Alpha Magnetic Spectrometer (AMS) to the International Space Station (ISS). The AMS is collecting data that aims to identify the origin of dark matter in the universe. That story is incredible in and of itself. However, what struck me was that Dr. Ting noted that, like several others projects before his, they might end up finding something far more important than what they are looking for.
The same is true for the Israelites; as they looked for their next meal, some were looking for bread and others were even looking backward, albeit romantically, to what they had in Egypt. What they discovered as God helped them see was manna. Many biblical scholars think manna is a naturally occurring phenomenon. There are scale insects that suck the sap of the tamarisk bush and excrete globules that crystallize in the sun and fall to the ground. These globules are rich in carbohydrates and sugar and can sustain a hungry traveler. The Israelites saw bug poop in a whole new way, one that supported life and developed trust in God. Almost 1300 years later, eyes will be opened to an itinerant Jewish rabbi who will die on a cross and rise three days later, the Bread of Life from heaven.
About 18 months ago, the church council in retreat adopted this story as our story for our journey of faith. One reason is that we wanted to recognize that we do food well here at Grace and the story is about food. But the main reason is that we see ourselves as on a journey from one place to another and it’s a bit scary. We wanted to acknowledge that some of the “good old days” weren’t as good as we remember. Most importantly, we wanted to remind ourselves that God is the one guiding and providing along the way.
We know that God will be with us even though we may not always see it. We know that what we discover along the way will probably be far more important than what we are looking for. Last of all, we know that God is working in, with, and through us to free our hearts and minds to love God and what God loves. We know this because of Jesus Christ, the Living Bread from heaven, who gives us abundant life. I look forward to discover with you what God will be showing us. Amen.
Exodus 16.1-18 Manna
Pentecost 20
October 6, 2013
Grace, Mankato, MN
We make another narrative leap today, though not as large as last week’s story about Moses’ commission to lead the Israelites. Moses has indeed succeeded in securing the Israelites’ freedom from Egyptian slavery via the 10 plagues. They have crossed the miraculously parted Red Sea and are now six weeks into their journey to the Promised Land. The bloom is off the rose of freedom and the realities of the journey ahead set in. So, now come the questions, questions about God and God’s provision for them, and about Moses’ leadership. In a story that is also our story, the Israelites make a startling discovery while experience a testing of sorts.
Fresh out of college and with no grad school prospects, I entered a management training program with Minnesota Fabrics, a retail fabric chain. The company had an extensive and intensive program where we learned everything from the ground up. The store manager would quiz us on a unit then the group manager would come in and check us off and approve us for moving on to the next level. In my first such unit and test I failed miserably. I learned later that I was almost fired, but at the urging of the store manager was given a second chance. I now knew what I didn’t know and set about learning it. That experience was a kick in the pants for me, a different sort of test, the kind that determines what you are made of and how you will respond to life.
As the Israelites looked back and preserved this memory of their time in the wilderness, they understood that God was working in, with, and through them in a way they hadn’t seen before. They were afraid, so much so that their awful Egyptian slavery looked better than the uncertainty of the journey ahead. What was hard for them to see at the time was that God was preparing them for life in the Promised Land. They needed to learn to trust God for everything and God helped them learn that through the gift of manna. As Beth Tanner notes, “Their bodies may be free from slavery, but it will take much more to free their minds and hearts.” Like my experience at Minnesota Fabrics, God was working in, with, and through them to bring them to a new place.
This past week I had the opportunity to attend the Nobel Conference at Gustavus Adolphus College, “The Universe at Its Limits.” There were many wonder-filled moments, but one highlights an aspect of today’s story. Dr. Samuel Ting, Nobel Laureate and professor of physics at MIT, shared his latest work to launch the Alpha Magnetic Spectrometer (AMS) to the International Space Station (ISS). The AMS is collecting data that aims to identify the origin of dark matter in the universe. That story is incredible in and of itself. However, what struck me was that Dr. Ting noted that, like several others projects before his, they might end up finding something far more important than what they are looking for.
The same is true for the Israelites; as they looked for their next meal, some were looking for bread and others were even looking backward, albeit romantically, to what they had in Egypt. What they discovered as God helped them see was manna. Many biblical scholars think manna is a naturally occurring phenomenon. There are scale insects that suck the sap of the tamarisk bush and excrete globules that crystallize in the sun and fall to the ground. These globules are rich in carbohydrates and sugar and can sustain a hungry traveler. The Israelites saw bug poop in a whole new way, one that supported life and developed trust in God. Almost 1300 years later, eyes will be opened to an itinerant Jewish rabbi who will die on a cross and rise three days later, the Bread of Life from heaven.
About 18 months ago, the church council in retreat adopted this story as our story for our journey of faith. One reason is that we wanted to recognize that we do food well here at Grace and the story is about food. But the main reason is that we see ourselves as on a journey from one place to another and it’s a bit scary. We wanted to acknowledge that some of the “good old days” weren’t as good as we remember. Most importantly, we wanted to remind ourselves that God is the one guiding and providing along the way.
We know that God will be with us even though we may not always see it. We know that what we discover along the way will probably be far more important than what we are looking for. Last of all, we know that God is working in, with, and through us to free our hearts and minds to love God and what God loves. We know this because of Jesus Christ, the Living Bread from heaven, who gives us abundant life. I look forward to discover with you what God will be showing us. Amen.
Sunday, September 29, 2013
"It's Not about You..." - Sermon for Confirmation Sunday
It’s Not about You…
Confirmation Sunday (Narrative Lectionary 4)
September 29, 2013
Exodus 2.23-25; 3.10-15; 4.10-17
Grace, Mankato, MN
It will be no surprise that our Confirmands are very bright young people. Now, we don’t do public examinations anymore, but if we did I know they would pass with flying colors. For example, Confirmands: Was the Bible written by God or by humans? [Yes!] Here is another: Was Jesus fully God or was he fully human? [Yes!] One more: In Holy Communion, are the elements bread and wine or body and blood? [Yes!] Do you see what I mean; aren’t they brilliant? I mention this today because our texts pose some provocative questions and there’s one I’ve been chewing on all week: Who needs the other more, God or Moses?
Our journey through the story of the Old Testament this fall has taken a giant leap forward. Jacob, the stealer of the blessing from his brother, Esau, and his father, Isaac, has married and sired 12 sons, 10 of whom conspire to sell one of them, Joseph, into slavery into Egypt. With God’s help, Joseph rises in prominence and helps save Egypt from a devastating famine. The famine forces Joseph’s family to Egypt where he is ultimately reconciled with his brothers and reunited with his father. The whole clan moves to Egypt where they flourish as a people, that is until a king who does not remember Joseph fears the Israelites and makes them slaves. Enter Moses, who is saved from infanticide by Pharaoh’s daughter, raised in her household, but flees because he has been seen killing an Egyptian and now makes his livelihood tending sheep. Whew!
Our story for today tells us that God sees the plight of his people and remembers the covenant he made with their ancestors. This doesn’t mean God has forgotten his chosen people or the promises, but that God is now going to act. God appears to Moses in the burning-but-not-consumed-bush calling him to active duty. What follows is one of the most interesting exchanges in the Bible. Interestingly, most commentators put down Moses, describing his response to God from “reluctant” to “conniving.” However, I don’t think Moses is acting unreasonable; he is simply asking good questions. You see, nowhere in the story does it indicate Moses has had any contact with the God of his ancestors, I think he has every right to ask who it is that is calling him to do some pretty outrageous things. In fact, I think that the life of faith is lived more in the questions than it is in the answers.
I also think that some of the most stimulating questions are the ones that can be answered, “Yes!” So, who needs each other more, God or Moses? Yes! Certainly, Moses needs all the help he can get to do what he needs to do, but clearly God needs Moses because for some reason, God has chosen to work through human agents. Moses has a pretty good life going. He’s married, has a family, and a steady job. Why would he want to leave that? And what about this God that is calling him to this crazy venture? When God tells Moses that his name is “I am who I am,” is he revealing who he is or not? Yes! God tells us he is a God of relationships, living and active, close at hand yet incredibly mysterious and beyond knowing. Then there is this one last question: is this story about Moses or is it about God? Yes! The Bible makes clear there is never a story about God when it’s not about us, and there’s never one about us that it’s not about God.
This is where I tell you Confirmands that today isn’t about you … and yet it is. Today is about a God who called you and set you apart in your baptisms, about parents, family, and congregation members who have journeyed with you along the way. And yet, it is about you because God needs you as much as you need God, and it is not only good but necessary that you ask questions of this God, because that’s how faith grows. Remember as you are called by God to serve others: God does not call the gifted; God gifts the called. Who are you? You are the ones loved by the God who was, who is, and will always be with you. Thanks be to God! Amen.
Confirmation Sunday (Narrative Lectionary 4)
September 29, 2013
Exodus 2.23-25; 3.10-15; 4.10-17
Grace, Mankato, MN
It will be no surprise that our Confirmands are very bright young people. Now, we don’t do public examinations anymore, but if we did I know they would pass with flying colors. For example, Confirmands: Was the Bible written by God or by humans? [Yes!] Here is another: Was Jesus fully God or was he fully human? [Yes!] One more: In Holy Communion, are the elements bread and wine or body and blood? [Yes!] Do you see what I mean; aren’t they brilliant? I mention this today because our texts pose some provocative questions and there’s one I’ve been chewing on all week: Who needs the other more, God or Moses?
Our journey through the story of the Old Testament this fall has taken a giant leap forward. Jacob, the stealer of the blessing from his brother, Esau, and his father, Isaac, has married and sired 12 sons, 10 of whom conspire to sell one of them, Joseph, into slavery into Egypt. With God’s help, Joseph rises in prominence and helps save Egypt from a devastating famine. The famine forces Joseph’s family to Egypt where he is ultimately reconciled with his brothers and reunited with his father. The whole clan moves to Egypt where they flourish as a people, that is until a king who does not remember Joseph fears the Israelites and makes them slaves. Enter Moses, who is saved from infanticide by Pharaoh’s daughter, raised in her household, but flees because he has been seen killing an Egyptian and now makes his livelihood tending sheep. Whew!
Our story for today tells us that God sees the plight of his people and remembers the covenant he made with their ancestors. This doesn’t mean God has forgotten his chosen people or the promises, but that God is now going to act. God appears to Moses in the burning-but-not-consumed-bush calling him to active duty. What follows is one of the most interesting exchanges in the Bible. Interestingly, most commentators put down Moses, describing his response to God from “reluctant” to “conniving.” However, I don’t think Moses is acting unreasonable; he is simply asking good questions. You see, nowhere in the story does it indicate Moses has had any contact with the God of his ancestors, I think he has every right to ask who it is that is calling him to do some pretty outrageous things. In fact, I think that the life of faith is lived more in the questions than it is in the answers.
I also think that some of the most stimulating questions are the ones that can be answered, “Yes!” So, who needs each other more, God or Moses? Yes! Certainly, Moses needs all the help he can get to do what he needs to do, but clearly God needs Moses because for some reason, God has chosen to work through human agents. Moses has a pretty good life going. He’s married, has a family, and a steady job. Why would he want to leave that? And what about this God that is calling him to this crazy venture? When God tells Moses that his name is “I am who I am,” is he revealing who he is or not? Yes! God tells us he is a God of relationships, living and active, close at hand yet incredibly mysterious and beyond knowing. Then there is this one last question: is this story about Moses or is it about God? Yes! The Bible makes clear there is never a story about God when it’s not about us, and there’s never one about us that it’s not about God.
This is where I tell you Confirmands that today isn’t about you … and yet it is. Today is about a God who called you and set you apart in your baptisms, about parents, family, and congregation members who have journeyed with you along the way. And yet, it is about you because God needs you as much as you need God, and it is not only good but necessary that you ask questions of this God, because that’s how faith grows. Remember as you are called by God to serve others: God does not call the gifted; God gifts the called. Who are you? You are the ones loved by the God who was, who is, and will always be with you. Thanks be to God! Amen.
Sunday, September 22, 2013
"In This Place" - Sermon for the 18th Sunday after Pentecost
In This Place
Pentecost 18 (Narrative Lectionary 4)
September 22, 2013
Grace, Mankato, MN
Genesis 27.1-4, 15-23; 28.10-17; John 1.50-51
A long time ago and far, far away, I received a phone call from a funeral director asking if I’d be willing to do a service for a non-member. The deceased had a Lutheran affinity but was not affiliated with any congregation and the family wanted to honor him with a “Lutheran funeral.” The funeral director went on to say, however, that the family also requested a minister “who wouldn’t preach at them.” That’s why he thought of me. After giving him a hard time, I said that I think I understood what he meant; they wanted to hear Gospel, not Law, and I accepted the offer to preside at the service. On my way to visit the family, I wondered how to handle discussion of the funeral service. How was I to talk about God with folk that didn’t want to be preached at? How was I to bring God to them? To my surprise, I discovered upon my arrival that they had been talking about God before I got there. God was already in that place.
“Surely the Lord is in this place—and I did not know it,” Jacob says after his dream about God. Much has happened since last week when Abraham was asked to sacrifice his son, Isaac. Isaac has grown up, gotten married to Rebekah, and had fraternal twin sons, Esau and Jacob. Esau is born first and therefore has the privilege of inheritance, much like Will and Kate’s son, George. Foreshadowing a twist in the story, when Esau is born, Jacob follows holding Esau’s heel. Jacob is appropriately named: it means “heel” or “supplanter.” Prior to our readings today, Jacob catches Esau in a week moment and buys his birthright for a bowl of stew.
But there’s still the matter of the blessing, which Rebekah and Jacob conspire to steal from Esau. Having tricked Isaac and Esau both, Rebekah tells Jacob that it’s a good time to find a wife, and not from the pagans they live among. So, Jacob flees and exhausted, stops for the night in the desert and lays down to rest, hoping for some relief. God comes to Jacob in a dream and gives him some unexpected news: the Lord is Jacob’s God just as he was of his grandfather Abraham and father Isaac. He learns that the blessing of a promised land and descendants to fill it is given to him as well, and that through him all nations will be blessed. Jacob wakes and declares, “Surely the Lord is in this place—and I did not know it!”
Jacob was talking about the place called Haran, but he could as easily been talking about his life. Jacob was scared and fearful for his life, understanding full well that his predicament was of his own making. He had no reason to believe that God was going to show up and do some incredible things in his life. Yet God, as we will learn, continually does just this, coming in the midst of our daily struggles. As Isaiah 43 proclaims,
Today is Campus Ministry Sunday, a time to intentionally lift up our connection to campus ministry in general and Crossroads Lutheran Campus Ministry in particular. The issue isn’t so much, “Is God in that place we call MSU-Mankato?” We know God is there. The issue is, are we going to have a place to help students know that God is with them? We have had a long history saying, “Yes, we will help these students know God’s love and grace in this place,” and I trust we will continue to do so. Surely God is in this place, long before we recognize his presence. Let us look for it and proclaim it, remembering that God comes, blessing us to be a blessing. Amen.
Pentecost 18 (Narrative Lectionary 4)
September 22, 2013
Grace, Mankato, MN
Genesis 27.1-4, 15-23; 28.10-17; John 1.50-51
Surely the Lord is in this place—and I did not know it! (Genesis 28.16)
A long time ago and far, far away, I received a phone call from a funeral director asking if I’d be willing to do a service for a non-member. The deceased had a Lutheran affinity but was not affiliated with any congregation and the family wanted to honor him with a “Lutheran funeral.” The funeral director went on to say, however, that the family also requested a minister “who wouldn’t preach at them.” That’s why he thought of me. After giving him a hard time, I said that I think I understood what he meant; they wanted to hear Gospel, not Law, and I accepted the offer to preside at the service. On my way to visit the family, I wondered how to handle discussion of the funeral service. How was I to talk about God with folk that didn’t want to be preached at? How was I to bring God to them? To my surprise, I discovered upon my arrival that they had been talking about God before I got there. God was already in that place.
“Surely the Lord is in this place—and I did not know it,” Jacob says after his dream about God. Much has happened since last week when Abraham was asked to sacrifice his son, Isaac. Isaac has grown up, gotten married to Rebekah, and had fraternal twin sons, Esau and Jacob. Esau is born first and therefore has the privilege of inheritance, much like Will and Kate’s son, George. Foreshadowing a twist in the story, when Esau is born, Jacob follows holding Esau’s heel. Jacob is appropriately named: it means “heel” or “supplanter.” Prior to our readings today, Jacob catches Esau in a week moment and buys his birthright for a bowl of stew.
But there’s still the matter of the blessing, which Rebekah and Jacob conspire to steal from Esau. Having tricked Isaac and Esau both, Rebekah tells Jacob that it’s a good time to find a wife, and not from the pagans they live among. So, Jacob flees and exhausted, stops for the night in the desert and lays down to rest, hoping for some relief. God comes to Jacob in a dream and gives him some unexpected news: the Lord is Jacob’s God just as he was of his grandfather Abraham and father Isaac. He learns that the blessing of a promised land and descendants to fill it is given to him as well, and that through him all nations will be blessed. Jacob wakes and declares, “Surely the Lord is in this place—and I did not know it!”
Jacob was talking about the place called Haran, but he could as easily been talking about his life. Jacob was scared and fearful for his life, understanding full well that his predicament was of his own making. He had no reason to believe that God was going to show up and do some incredible things in his life. Yet God, as we will learn, continually does just this, coming in the midst of our daily struggles. As Isaiah 43 proclaims,
“But now thus says the Lord, he who created you O Jacob, who formed you O Israel: Do not fear, for I have redeemed you. I have called you by name, you are mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you. The rivers shall not over whelm you. When you walk through fire you shall not be burned and the flame shall not consume you, for I am the Lord your God, the Holy One of Israel your Savior. ”Jesus, upon whom the angels ascend and descend, becomes the promise enfleshed: “I will be with you always even to the end of the age.” We cannot explain God’s presence in the dark place of our lives, we can only look for it and proclaim it.
Today is Campus Ministry Sunday, a time to intentionally lift up our connection to campus ministry in general and Crossroads Lutheran Campus Ministry in particular. The issue isn’t so much, “Is God in that place we call MSU-Mankato?” We know God is there. The issue is, are we going to have a place to help students know that God is with them? We have had a long history saying, “Yes, we will help these students know God’s love and grace in this place,” and I trust we will continue to do so. Surely God is in this place, long before we recognize his presence. Let us look for it and proclaim it, remembering that God comes, blessing us to be a blessing. Amen.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)