The Paradox of Faith - Sermon for the Twenty-First Sunday after Pentecost A - Narrative Lectionary 2

The Paradox of Faith

Pentecost 21A – NL2

October 22, 2023

Our Savior’s, Faribault, MN

2 Samuel 5.1-5, 6.1-5; Psalm 150; Mark 11.8-10

I love language, especially putting words together to both amaze and amuse. The events of the past few weeks and the texts this week prompted me to think of those things in language that we call oxymorons and paradoxes. An oxymoron is two words when put together make you scratch your head. My favorite oxymoron is “jumbo shrimp.” A paradox is two ideas which seem to be contradictory yet are both true. In the Lutheran church we say that we are both saints and sinners at the same time. We are saints because we have been fully redeemed by the blood of Christ. However, we are also sinners because we still mess up. To use another phrase, we are “already, but not yet.” Sometimes oxymoron and paradoxes seem to bleed over into each other as in these two wonderful desserts, a hot fudge sundae or Baked Alaska. These are paradoxically both hot and cold while using oxymoronic names.

There is a lot of truth in today’s readings today but there are inconvenient truths that are unfortunately left out. Last week we heard the story of Ruth, a non-Israelite living in the time of judges, who follows her mother-in-law Naomi to Israel with hesed, steadfast love and faithfulness. There Ruth marries Boaz and has a son Obed, who also marries and has a son Jesse, who marries and has eight sons. It is the eighth and youngest son, Ruth’s great-grandson, David, the boy shepherd, who becomes anointed king of all Israel. And, I should add, it is David who is the ancestor of the One anointed as Messiah, Jesus.

As I said, there is much truth expressed in our readings today. It is true that it is David who is able to unite the people of Israel, who is recognized as their de facto leader over and against the former King Saul. And it is true that it is David who chooses the neutral city of Jerusalem as his capital and who brings the Ark there ensuring that God is at the center of the life of the people. This movement is appropriately celebrated with unbridled joy. It is true that most theologians believe it is David who wrote Psalm 150, rightfully praising God. Finally, it is also true that Jesus enters Jerusalem to the cheers of crowds as the anointed Messiah.

Even so, there’s other truths lurking. David’s triumph has come with unbridled bloodshed, the killing of King Saul by his followers, the killing of those who opposed him, and the soon-to-be extinction of the Philistines. It’s also true that David brings the Ark to Jerusalem to consolidate his power and that this “man after God’s own heart” impregnates another man’s wife and then conspires to have him killed. Finally, it is true that Jesus enters triumphantly one day only to be arrested, tried, and crucified a few days later.

It’s important to recognize these paradoxes as we think about Israel and Palestine. It is true that Hamas is a terrorist organization that openly states that their goal is the annihilation of Jews and the Israeli state. It is also true that Israel openly states that their goal is the destruction of Hamas. It’s true that historically the Jews have been persecuted wherever they’ve lived in the world and it’s also true that the Jews who were once the oppressed have now become the oppressors of the Palestinians. They’ve had their knees on the necks of the Palestinians for 75 years.

It is true that Hamas is not the same as the Palestinian people but it’s also true that Hamas are the only ones standing up for Palestinians, albeit inappropriately. It’s true that Israel the political state is not the same thing as the religion known as Judaism and the religious and the secular often clash. It is true that Hamas is Muslim, but it is also true that most Muslims do not advocate terrorism. It is true that some Christians, especially in the US, support Israel’s oppression of Palestians because they believe in Zionism, that Jesus will return to Jerusalem.

So, what do we do about this? Does our faith tell us how we might deal with these tensions? I think so. First, we might humbly admit our part in this conflict, ask God’s forgiveness, and seek what we can do. Second, we recognize we can’t resolve the tensions but rather recognize them and live with them. Life is complicated and the Bible is honest, sometimes brutally so, about the human condition. Third, we realize that this is complex and will take time to work through. There are no easy answers, despite what some claim.

Meanwhile, we are to go where Jesus went: to the cross. The cross is the place where we stand with those who are oppressed and we do so by showing compassion, which literally means to suffer with others. There’s a phrase that might help, “Think Globally, Act Locally,” which could involve prayer for our leaders and advocating with them for just solutions. This could also include sending support to sufferers through Lutheran Disaster Response, the Red Cross, or other worthy organizations. And we can promote conversations and understanding, such as we are doing this next Wednesday.

It is meet, right, and salutary that we should at all times and in all places give thanks and praise God. We do so even, and especially when, our hearts are breaking amid the brokenness of this world. The best Psalms are the ones that lament our situation yet proclaim God’s love and faithfulness. That’s the great paradox of our faith, that to live for others means to die to ourselves. Because the One who died for us did so that we might live and that’s not oxymoronic, that's the truth of faith. 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.

Steadfast Love - Sermon for the Twentieth Sunday after Pentecost (Narrative Lectionary 2)

Steadfast Love

Pentecost 20A (NL2)

October 15, 2023

Our Savior’s, Faribault, MN

Ruth 1.1-17

This past Wednesday I asked the worshippers what made a good friend, just as I did with our young people this morning. As today, they gave several excellent responses: a good friend keeps confidences, doesn’t tell stories, is a friend no matter what you do or don’t do, gives you hugs, and is honest with you even if it’s hard to hear. I’m guessing that you could add several more characteristics to this list.

These characteristics could be summed up in the biblical term hesed, which means steadfast love, faithfulness, or loyalty. Hesed is something that is at the forefront of our reading from Ruth this morning. Since the Ten Commandments were given to the Israelites last week, they have wandered in the wilderness 40 years and finally settled in the Promised Land, grouped into 12 tribes. It’s a loose confederation with no central ruler and where disputes are settled by judges. It is in this setting that the book of Ruth finds context.

Because of a famine in the land of Israel, Naomi, her husband, and two sons travel to Moab for a better life. There the two sons take Moabite wives. Ultimately, all three men die, the two sons are sonless themselves. Naomi decides to return to Bethlehem because the famine has eased and decides to leave her daughters-in-law so they might be able to build families themselves. Orpah reluctantly goes back, but Ruth steadfastly refuses and utters that famous declaration, “Where you go, I will go; where you lodge, I will lodge; your people shall be my people, and your God my God. Where you die, I will die—there I will be buried”

We don’t know what Naomi did to stir up such steadfast love and loyalty within Ruth. Perhaps it was shared grief or that Naomi’s God was more attractive than Moab’s gods. But we do know that this relationship is remarkable because historically Moabites and Israelites were enemies. We also know that for Naomi to return as a widow in Israel was very precarious. Without a husband or sons, she would have no means of support and life would be very hard for Naomi. Perhaps Ruth saw that and was determined to help.

Another remarkable feature of the story is that Ruth would face certain discrimination in Israel for being a foreigner Now, discrimination isn’t remarkable in and of itself, given the history of Israel and Moab. We’ll learn that even when Ruth displays her incredible faithfulness to Naomi and, as we will see, her subsequent marriage to Boaz, a prominent Israelite, she’ll always be “the Moabitess.” Yet, through it all, Ruth remains steadfast, and she and Naomi find a way where there was no way.

Now, here is “The Rest of the Story” as Paul Harvey used to intone. Ruth marries Boaz, whose own mother, Tamar, was of questionable repute. They have a son, Obed, who also has a son, Jesse. Jesse will have seven sons, the youngest who is a “man after God’s own heart,” David. As we’ll see next week, it will be David who becomes king and unites the 12 tribes of Israel. And, if you read chapter 1 of Matthew, it will be David’s descendant, Jesus, who will be the Messiah. Ruth is the great-grandmother of Jesus 28 times.

The story of Ruth is not only some interesting bit of backstory to the Davidic monarchy and the Jesus story. The steadfast love and faithfulness of Ruth is a microcosm of that of the God who does the same. As we’ve seen already this fall, this is a God who makes a way where there seems to be no way. We saw God make a way by providing a son to a couple well past child-bearing age. This God made a way by freeing a people out of slavery, and making them numerous while bringing them into the Promised Land.

We still have a lot more story before we get to the Jesus story at Christmas, but through it all and beyond God will demonstrate God’s hesed, God’s steadfast love, loyalty, and faithfulness. It is this assurance that sustains us in our faith journeys, both individually and together as a community of faith. It is God’s steadfast love that carries us through this time of uncertainty, trauma, and chaos. As we gather around God’s Table, we receive God’s very self, God’s assurance that God will make a way for us where there seems to be no way. As God does so, we are not surprised when that way includes unlikely people like Ruth, me, and you. 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.

A Re-Membering God - Sermon for the Eighteenth Sunday after Pentecost A - Narrative Lectionary 2

A Re-Membering God

Pentecost 18A NL2

October 1, 2023

Our Savior’s, Faribault, MN

Exodus 1.8-2.10; 3.1-15

After a long time the king of Egypt died. The Israelites groaned under their slavery, and cried out. Out of the slavery their cry for help rose up to God. God heard their groaning, and God remembered his covenant with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. (Exodus 2.23-24)

I was eating lunch with other interim pastors when the young woman approached our table. “Pastor Olson, do you remember me?” As I panicked a bit she revealed her name, Carwyn. Had she given me a few seconds more I would have indeed remembered her because I not only taught her in Confirmation but her older sister and brother as well. Not to mention I officiated at her sister’s wedding and the baptism of her sister’s first child. Besides, Carwyn hadn’t changed all that much. After inquiring about her and her family, she had to finish lunch and get back to her work. As I sat down, a colleague said, “Don’t you just hate that?” Actually no, because I was grateful she remembered me.

In the midst of their suffering, the Israelites in Egypt wondered if God had forgotten them. Much has happened since our text from last week when Jacob wrestled with God at the Jabbok River, getting a blessing and new name in the process. He reconciled with his brother, Esau, finally returned home, and had a twelfth son, Benjamin.

But it’s the 11th son, Joseph, who the rest of Genesis focuses on. Out of jealousy, Joseph’s brothers sell him into slavery down in Egypt where he ultimately rises to power as Pharaoh's right-hand man. Through dream interpretation, he helps prepare Egypt for seven years of famine. The famine results in his whole family moving to Egypt where they are welcomed and given a home. That is, until a king arises that doesn’t remember Joseph and becomes afraid of the Israelites and their ever-growing numbers.

God heard their groaning, and God remembered his covenant with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.

We don’t know how long the Israelites were groaning before “God remembered,” but we do know it was at least as long as it took Moses to be born, grow up, and spend years in exile in the desert. It seems as if God has forgotten God’s promises to the Israelites, but the Hebrew indicates that it may be more that God’s attention wandered. To the groaning Israelites, there is not much distinction. Regardless, the situation now has God’s full attention because Moses is ready for God to act through him. And this time, unlike last week, God is prepared to disclose who God is: “I am the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.”

In that statement, God not only discloses something of God’s self, God tells them they aren’t forgotten. God isn’t some Johnny-come-lately who happens to show up and claim to be their God at the last moment. God not only always has been, always is, and always will be, this is the same God who has always been with their ancestors, beginning with the promise made to Abraham, repeated to Isaac and Jacob. All evidence to the contrary, God has been paying attention, working to re-member them.

Though none of us has had to endure generations of slavery like the Israelites, there are times in the midst of our suffering when we wonder if God has abandoned us or even if God exists. In a book published after her death, Mother Teresa of Calcutta admitted to enduring a “dark night of the soul” for years, even decades. And with conversations with some of you, you wonder how much more trauma Our Savior’s can endure. The good news is that those promises made the Israelites continue to be ours through Jesus Christ.

The Exodus, God’s deliverance of the Israelites out of slavery in Egypt to the Promised Land will become a seminal and defining event. It will also become a prominent theme at Jesus’ Last Supper as Jesus becomes the Passover lamb who is sacrificed and whose blood sets us free from bondage to sin, death, and the devil. But through it all is the remembering, as Jesus admonishes us in the Lord’s Supper to “Do this in remembrance of me.” It’s important to know that this is a special kind of remembering, where Jesus is not merely brought to mind but rather is made present in a very real and tangible way, his very body and blood taken into our very selves.

In this meal we’ll be receiving soon, we’ll not only remember God’s saving acts that assure us that God has not forgotten, but we’ll also be re-membered, that is, put back together and made whole. “Do you remember me, God?” “Oh, my child,” God says, “more than you can possibly know. How can I ever forget someone who I claimed in baptism, marked with the cross of my Son? But so that you can remember that I remember, here is a piece of me to hold onto. For I am the God of your ancestors who will be with you always, even unto the end of the age.” 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.

For Real - Sermon for the Seventeeth Sunday after Pentecost Year A (Narrative Lectionary 2)

For Real

Pentecost 17A (NL 2)

September 27, 2023

Our Savior’s, Faribault, MN

Genesis 32.3-13, 22-30

Growing up, I would occasionally watch All Star Wrestling on TV, cheering or booing the likes of The Crusher, Verne Gagne, and Baron Von Raschke. I watched, knowing full well that it wasn’t real, or that’s what I learned from my older brother. Even so, All Star Wrestling made for great theater and entertainment.  One still came away with the understanding that wrestling is the most intimate of sports, that even in the cleanest of contests wrestlers get “down and dirty” with one another.

A lot has happened since last week, where we learned that Abraham and Sarah received the promised son Isaac. Isaac narrowly escapes being made a sacrifice by Abraham, grows up, and marries Rebekah. Rebekkah gives birth to fraternal twins who couldn’t be more different: Esau, “hairy red” the hunter, a “man’s man.” And Jacob, whose name means “supplanter” or “trickster,” who is the farmer. The Lord informs Rebekah that the brothers will be contentious. Indeed.

Jacob will trick Esau into selling his birthright for a bowl of stew and conspire with his mother Rebekah to deceive Isaac into giving Jacob a blessing rightfully belonging to Esau. Jacob flees the rage of Esau, going to his uncle Laban where he falls in love with one of Laban’s daughters,  Rachel. Jacob agrees to work for seven years to marry Rachel, but Laban is as big a cheat as Jacob, pulling a bait and switch with Rachel’s older sister Leah. So, Jacob works seven more years to gain Rachel’s hand.

Jacob earns Rachel, but unlike Leah she has trouble conceiving; shades of Sarah and Abraham. Rachel gives her maid to Jacob as a proxy, and so does Leah when Leah stops being able to have children. Finally, God “remembers” Rachel and she bears a son, the 11th between all four women. Meanwhile, God prospers Jacob at the expense of Laban, who is getting the tables turned on him for his treachery.

After 20 years of these shenanigans, Jacob wants to go home and so he gathers everything and leaves while Laban is away. Laban catches up with them, but they reconcile, make a covenant, and Jacob goes on his way. Jacob is finally heading back to the land of his ancestors, but there’s a catch: he learns that his brother Esau and 400 men are coming to meet him. Between this news and his nightly encounter, Jacob sends his flocks and family ahead, hoping to appease Esau.

Jacob’s wrestling match with the nameless, initially faceless man was extraordinary and is a metaphor for our own faith journeys. For Jacob is not only wrestling with God, but also with Esau and himself. Jacob knows he is a schmuck and knows he deserves retribution for what he did to Esau, but he also reminds God of the promises God has made to his family. In the end, though Jacob will never be perfect, he does extract a blessing and a new name from God. He now becomes Israel, one who strives with God, which will also become the name of the multitudinous people. A twelfth son will be born, and the eleventh, Joseph, who will end up in Egypt where the Israelites will become numerous, too much for the Egyptians to handle.

But what I found most extraordinary about today’s story is not so much that we wrestle with God, for I imagine that all of you have stories to tell of your intimate confrontations with God. In fact, it could be said that Our Savior’s is at our own Jabbok River right now. No, what I find is that God comes and wrestles with us and it’s not fake or staged. It’s for real. In Jesus Christ, God got down and dirty, becoming human in all its humiliation and embarrassment. As Paul in Philippians reminds us, that God voluntarily emptied himself to walk among us.

One of our sacraments that ties this together is baptism, where God again comes down through the Holy Spirit and gives us a new name, Child of God, just as he has done for Hudson this morning. Like Hudson, God promises to be with us always, especially in our darkest times, providing us with a wrestling partner who helps us see the face of God in the most unlikely of places. And as God does so, God pronounces a blessing on us that you are God’s beloved child. 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.

For All the Lonely People - Sermon for the Fifteenth Sunday after Pentecost Year A (Narrative Lectionary 2)

For All the Lonely People

Pentecost 15A (NL2)

September 10, 2023

Our Savior’s, Faribault, MN

Genesis 2.4b-25; Mark 10.6-8

“It is not good that the man should be alone; I will make him a helper as his partner.”

Dick and Anne were members of a congregation we plugged into while I was in seminary at Gettysburg, PA. Our two young daughters were particularly close to Anne, who was the children’s choir director. That is until Anne was tragically killed in an automobile accident, which devastated all of us. Anne was a beloved member of both church and community. Not long after Anne’s death, I encountered Dick at an event. As he discussed his life without Anne he casually said, “You know I’ll get married again. I’m not meant to be alone.” Those words startled me because they seemed premature and rather cold. But as I thought about that comment, I realized it was not a slight to Anne, rather a tribute to the life they had together.

God says, “It is not good that the man should be alone; I will make him a helper as his partner.” We begin this second year of the Narrative Lectionary that takes us on a whirlwind tour through the biblical story. Starting with Creation in Genesis we survey the Old Testament this fall that takes us to the Jesus story at Christmas. We then continue with Jesus’ life through his passion and death in Lent and resurrection at Easter. In the time of Easter and following we’ll hear about the experiences of the early church as they try to figure out what Jesus’ message means. This year, we will hear readings from the Gospel of Mark, either as the central text or in support of the Old Testament readings.

Prior to this morning’s reading from Genesis 2, God has created everything and pronounces it good. Today, the narrator goes “back to the future” by being more specific about the creation of a garden and humans to care for it, including an apparent miscalculation by God to provide Adam with a partner. Now, I need to say something about this text: though I believe this story expresses a deep truth about humanity and or relationship to God, I don’t think it is true in the way many people think of it as true. For example, I can say that I love my wife with my whole heart, and that would be a true statement, but it would not be factual. I cannot take my heart out of my body and love my wife with it in some physical way. So, one of the consequences of understanding this kind of truth is that this reading is not meant to be a proof text for the exclusivity of heterosexual relationships. We intuitively know that there are other important relationships. Besides, the Hebrew word for “helper” is often applied to God in the Old Testament, as in “God is a very present help in times of trouble.” 

At the heart of the text is the truth that God created us to be in relationship with God and each other. And these relationships are meant to be mutual, even with God, as we are, theologian Phil Hefner said,  “created co-creators.” To be “bone of my bone and flesh of my flesh” is to realize that we are interdependent with one another. To paraphrase the poet John Donne, “No one is an island; everyone is a piece of the continent, a part of the main,” ending with, “Ask not for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.”

Unfortunately, we know what happens next and it’s not pretty: the cooperative and collaborative interdependence gets broken as humanity distrusts God and places blame upon each other. Work becomes difficult, brother kills brother, nations are scattered, and the earth is flooded. Yet through it all, we’ll hear the rest of the story as God works tirelessly to reconcile God’s self to humanity and humanity to each other and the promise that God never, ever gives up.

A story is told about a visitor who visits a friend on a cold, blustery day. The friend invites the visitor in and they settle before a roaring fire. After pleasantries have been exchanged, the friend says to the visitor, “I know why you’re here. It’s because I haven’t been to church lately.” The friend then relates to the visitor all of the slights, hurts, and offenses he has experienced from the church, mostly real and some imagined. The visitor doesn’t say much, nodding to indicate he is listening. When the friend is finished, they sit silently for a moment and then the visitor rises and  silently takes a glowing ember from the fire and places it to the side of the hearth where it loses its heat. Presently, the visitor gets up and places it back in the fire again, where it quickly heats up. The visitor again wordlessly sits down. After a few moments, the friend says to the visitor, “I understand. I’ll be in church Sunday.”

I think that Our Savior’s is a “fireplace church” where even in our brokenness we depend upon God and each other and the heat of God’s grace and mercy carry us through. Chris told me this morning that today is the third anniversary of his son, Aaron’s, death, something that understandably is still painful and leaves a hole in his heart. But he also said how important the grief group here is to him. I’ve heard other stories about the importance of this place, that no matter the brokenness we experience, God’s love sustains us. For it is not good that we should be alone, for God has made us helpers and partners. 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.

Foolish Faith - Sermon for the Thirteenth Sunday after Pentecost, Narrative Lectionary Summer Series: Creeds

Foolish Faith

Pentecost 13A – NL Creeds 2

August 27, 2023

Our Savior’s, Faribault, MN

John 1.1-5, 9-14, 16-18; 1 Corinthians 1.18-25

Ron was a faithful member of a congregation I served. He was almost always in worship and involved deeply in its life. When Ron passed away, I met with his son to plan the funeral service, as I always do. I was surprised when Ron’s son asked me not to include the promise of the resurrection in my funeral sermon. He explained that Ron really didn’t believe in the resurrection, but instead followed the teachings of Jesus in how he lived his life, which by all accounts, was one of integrity, kindness, and grace. 

Today we reflect on the Second Article of the Creed, the one having to do with Jesus, the Second  Person of the Trinity, and I know that Ron isn’t the only inhabitant of our church who puts less stress on Jesus’ resurrection. That’s interesting given that perhaps you’ve noticed as I did a few years ago that there is something missing from the creed:

We believe in one Lord, Jesus Christ,

the only Son of God,

eternally begotten of the Father,

God from God, Light from Light,

true God from true God,

begotten, not made,

of one Being with the Father;

through him all things were made.

For us and for our salvation

he came down from heaven,

was incarnate of the Holy Spirit and the virgin Mary

and became truly human.

For our sake he was crucified under Pontius Pilate;

he suffered death and was buried.

On the third day he rose again

in accordance with the scriptures;

he ascended into heaven

and is seated at the right hand of the Father.

He will come again in glory to judge the living and the dead,

and his kingdom will have no end.

Did you notice that there is no mention of Jesus’ ministry or teachings? There is nothing about his command to follow him or to go his way. The Creed goes from birth to death to resurrection to ascension and finally to consummation.

Luther, in his explanation to the Second Article does something similarly:

I believe that Jesus Christ, true God, begotten of the Father from all eternity, and also true man, born of the Virgin Mary, is my Lord, who has redeemed me, a lost and condemned creature, freed me and delivered me from sin, death, and the power of the devil, not will silver and gold, but with his holy and precious blood and innocent suffering and death, in order that I might be his, live under him in his kingdom, and serve him in everlasting righteousness, innocence, and blessedness, even as he is risen from the dead and lives and reigns to all eternity. This is most certainly true.

Now, we know that Jesus’ ministry of preaching, teaching, and healing are important, and that Jesus does indeed call us to follow his way, the way of the kingdom, to love God and neighbor. What the creeds strive to do is to emphasize that Jesus is far more than a good teacher or role model. In echoes of the creation story in Genesis, John’s Gospel emphasizes that Jesus was present from before there was any beginning, that all things were made through him. In essence, John claims, Jesus, too, is God.

Now, even that claim isn’t much different from mythologies of other cultures where gods often take human form. That is, until we get to the foolishness of that same God willingly dying on a cross for our sakes. In essence, the Apostle Paul says that if you want to know what God is like, look to Jesus. And if you want to know what Jesus is like, look to the cross, which sounds like utter foolishness. We are a broken people, and Jesus takes the brokenness upon himself and in doing so sets us free.

We Christians are an odd bunch. We foolishly believe there is more than the broken and dead things of this world, that death and brokenness are not the last words, nor are they the most important words. We believe that in death and brokenness we see life and healing, just as we did with Theone’s celebration of life this past week. We believe, some from the outside might say foolishly, that God will work through the brokenness and pain we have experienced as a congregation to bring new and abundant life.

It is in that assurance and promise from God through Jesus Christ that frees us to live foolishly. Because of what Jesus Christ has done for us, picking us up when we stumble, dusting us off, and sending us on our way, that we can dare to live. In doing so, we are able to walk as children of light, bringing hope and healing to a hurting world. Jesus Christ is more than a good person, so much more, and through that “more-ness” we are more as well. We are more because we foolishly believe. This is most certainly true. Amen.

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

The Prodigal Sower - Sermon for the Seventh Sunday after Pentecost Year A

The Prodigal Sower

Pentecost 7A

July 16, 2023

Christ, Preston, MN

Matthew 13.1-9, 18-23

By way of introduction, I’m going to give you a little glimpse into the life of a preacher. One thing you need to know is that most preachers work very hard on their sermons and take them seriously. Furthermore, we’ve all had the experience where a sermon we thought was good got no response and the opposite is true. A sermon we thought was a dud, but didn’t have anything else to offer, went over big. Frankly, while we appreciate it when people say, “Good sermon, pastor,” the response we’d like to make is, “That remains to be seen.” If you’ve said that to me, chances are I’ve not been that snarky, instead saying, “I was preaching to myself. If you got something out of it, so much the better.” I truly believe that if the text doesn’t speak to me, it probably won’t speak to you. Even so, my favorite comment from parishioners is, “You made me think.”

The response (or lack of it) to the Good News of Jesus Christ is at the heart of today’s Gospel reading in Matthew. Jesus tells the Parable of the Sower and to be clear, in spite of his explanation, there still remains a variety of interpretations. Today I’m going to think along the lines of what Matthew’s community dealt with and why some commentators think Matthew included this parable in his collection. That is to say, Matthew used this parable to address an important question: why did some people respond to the Good News and why did some of them not, a situation in the early Jewish synagogues that caused some conflict.

It’s a similar question put to Martin Luther by his protégé Philip Melanchthon 1500 years later. If God’s Word is so powerful, why doesn’t everybody accept it? Luther, in response, breezily answered, “The Spirit blows wherever and whenever it wills.” Of course, that’s no real answer at all, but it’s the best he could do. But before we proceed, it’s helpful to remember that parables are not puzzles to solve; they are mysteries to be entered. They are to open us up more than we are to open them up. So, when we enter this parable, it needs to be from a place of humility as we realize that all soil conditions apply to each of us at one time or another. In other words, we’re not always good soil.

The aspect of the parable that stands out for me today is the prodigious behavior of the Sower, who could be known as the Prodigal Sower. Though some people make a case that casting seed far and wide was a common practice in Jesus’ day, it seems to me excessively generous and perhaps downright wasteful, as Jesus’ explanation shows. Yet that doesn’t stop the Sower from the practice; God’s Word is thrown about like glitter. One interpretation is that God never, ever gives up on people, no matter what the result, and keeps spreading the Word regardless of the consequences.

It’s important to remember that most of Jesus’ parables are Kingdom parables. Jesus often begins his parables by saying, “The kingdom of God is like…” His parables try to describe the way of God’s activity and values that are difficult to pin down, and not “this is how we should live” kind of parables. Having said that, and reminding you that I’m not proposing the final solution, I think that there are questions raised by actions of a God who liberally and tirelessly spreads the Word. So, let me raise a few questions based on my time with you that you might find interesting to entertain.

Some of you have wondered why more people haven’t returned to worship or reengaged in the life of the congregation. Perhaps you know people who have fallen away, or may even have gone to other places. This is a complex question that the Transition Team touched on and your leadership discusses often. But rather than address it head on, what if we allowed the Parable of the Sower to creatively expand our thinking with these four questions: 

• What would it mean to scatter God’s word extravagantly and not worry about the results? This is not to say that outcomes don’t matter, but what if they are less important than liberally broadcasting God’s love, grace and mercy?

• What would it mean to remember that it’s God’s job to give the growth, not ours? The Apostle Paul reminded the early church of that when he declared that he planted, Apollos watered, but God gave the growth.

• How could you walk alongside people on their faith journey rather than criticizing their “soil?” Can you be cultivators, helping to prepare people to receive God’s Word?

• Could you be patient, realizing that the seed you scatter might lie dormant for years before bearing fruit? 

The Good News is I think you have begun to take these questions to heart, whether you realize it or not. You’ve recommitted to building partnerships in the larger Preston community and want this wonderful facility to be used by more groups, both inside and outside the membership of the congregation. Furthermore, rather than criticize the number of people who join you electronically, you are strengthening your digital presence and wondering how you can creatively connect even more so. But most importantly, you are opening yourselves to God’s Spirit, wherever it leads.

Thank you for inviting me to walk with you on this portion of your faith journey. I’ve never felt as welcomed and supported as I have here, and I trust your new pastor will, too. I can think of no better words to leave you with than those of the Apostle Paul told the church at Philippi, “[I am] confident of this, that the One who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.” If that’s all you remember from this sermon and my time with you, that will be enough. Amen.

My sermons often preach a little differently than written and you can find the video here.