"Where is He?"
Easter 2012, Contemporary Service
Mark 16:1-8 [with the shorter ending]
Grace and victory to you from our Risen Savior. Amen.
You know, it would be much easier if Jesus would just stay where we put him.
It would be nice if Jesus would just stay where we expect him to be.
That first Easter morning, the women got up early and went to Jesus’ tomb.
They expected Jesus to be there.
They had gotten up early, before dawn.
They had brought oils to clean the corpse of their beloved and to fight the stench of death.
Jesus is never where we expect him to be.
Here’s a fun fact from National Geographic.
Every year, the City of Jerusalem receives, on average, 1,000 letters addressed to God.
If only God would stay where we expect him to be.
So much easier to send a letter.
Most of the faithful have a better idea of where God is, right.
Where is God?
Up there, right?
We expect the ruler of the universe to be up there in the heavens, out there in the cosmos.
But God isn’t where we expect him to be.
God isn’t light-years away. God is here in this place, here on earth...in Jesus Christ.
It would be nice if Jesus would just stay where we put him.
At first, the Pharisees were impressed by Jesus’ teaching.
He could have taught at the biggest synagogues, the most prestigious schools.
But Jesus didn’t hang out with respectable people.
Jesus did not do what the Pharisees expected him to do, he didn’t stay where they wanted.
On Palm Sunday, the people had basically crowned Jesus king.
They waved palms, they put him on a donkey (the equivalent of a white stallion or a black, bullet-proof Cadillac limousine).
But Jesus didn’t act like the king the people expected.
By the end of the week, his approval ratings had plummeted...it turned out he wasn’t what they expected, he wasn’t going to do what they wanted.
Roman guards, the chief priests and, yes, the crowds nailed Jesus to the cross.
They thought that if they nailed him down, Jesus would stay put.
But Jesus didn’t stay put.
The cross could not hold him.
That first Easter morning, the women went to Jesus’ tomb, expecting to find his corpse.
Imagine their fear--”What happened to his body?”
Imagine their frustration--”Where is he off to now?”
He wasn’t where he was supposed to be.
And the angel said, “He is in Galilee--just like he told you.”
And here we are, on this Easter morning...and we are like the women at the tomb.
I have heard many people say of this room:
“It feels like a temple.”
And I suppose it does--high ceiling, tiled floor.
It is impressive.
But this morning, to me it feels like that tomb where Jesus’ body was laid on Friday.
It is cavernous.
Sometimes it is a little chilly.
You can almost imagine the dampness surround you.
This room is like that tomb on the first Easter morning.
Because this is a place of death.
That is an unexpected comment for an Easter morning sermon.
But think about it.
Right up front, we have hung an instrument of death.
Right in the middle of our worship is a place of death: a drowning pool.
Right up front, is a sacrificial table, where we set out a broken body and shed blood.
Right there, right up front, we place the coffin when there is a funeral.
This is a place where, every Sunday morning, we bring our worries and our sins and all of the things we struggle with.
We come as we are...we carry with us all of our life dreams that we never accomplished.
We carry with us all of the times that we have failed this week, all of the ways that we did not live up to others’ expectations of us.
We bring with us all of our longings...and life is full of longing...
Some of us come in pain...suffering in body or in mind or in spirit.
We come carrying the grief of loss.
We come in from a world that surrounds us with death and the fear of death.
And we carry that death in with us.
We come, realizing that we, too, will die someday.
Ashes to ashes.
We come with all of this.
And all of these things form a cross.
You see, the world doesn’t want us to escape from our shortcomings.
And so the world nails us to all of our failings. And we are trapped in life...a life of death.
Nailed to that cross, we cannot escape our past...what we have done, what we have left undone. And we die to.
We die to our worries, our idols, our sins...we die to ourselves.
We sit in the tomb, this place of death.
...
This room is exactly like a tomb in every way but one.
This room is not dark like a cave should be...it is not filled with darkness like a tomb should be.
The angel standing there, where Jesus’ body should be...light shining from the angel’s face, like from the face of the sun.
It is like the tomb on that first Easter morning, when the angel of the Lord was present, saying to the disciples: “Do not be afraid. You are looking for Jesus among the dead, but he is alive!”
And this tomb...this room is not what we expected it to be.
This place of death becomes a place of life.
And we realize that we have died to sin, so that we might live for good works.
We realize that despite all of the death in the world, we are blessed with life.
We realize that the funerals we hold here do not glorify death, they celebrate life...not just the life that has been, but also the life that will be.
We realize that the table is not just a sacrificial altar, but a dinner table where we share a nourishing meal and life-giving fellowship.
We realize that the baptismal font is not just a drowning pool, but a womb...we are born to new life when the water breaks and we are lifted up.
We realize that the table is not just a sacrificial altar, but a dinner table where we share a nourishing meal and life-giving fellowship.
We realize that the baptismal font is not just a drowning pool, but a womb...we are born to new life when the water breaks and we are lifted up.
We realize that the cross is not a symbol of the death that it causes, but it is a symbol of the life that it cannot destroy.
And we shout: “Christ is risen!”
And we shout it like we mean it, because we know that since Christ lives...we live.
We love happy endings, don’t we?
Easter seems to be that.
But the story of Holy Week would make a terrible movie.
Our hero is wrongly accused.
He endures a corrupt trial.
The deck is stacked against him.
He suffers torture.
All the while, we are watching, and we wait for the hero to win.
We wait and watch for him to find that argument that turns the tide.
We wait to see the cleverness of finding a way out of a no-win situation.
But he doesn’t.
He is killed.
Executed.
Even while he is on the cross, we hold our breath for an eleventh hour miracle.
Maybe his friends will take arms and fight to save him...like the Merry Men came and saved Robin Hood from execution at the hands of King John and the Sheriff of Nottingham.
Or maybe the angels will come down from heaven and the big final battle will ensue, and our hero will be vindicated.
But none of that happens.
Jesus dies. He just dies. Game over.
But then, just as we are about to change the channel, something happens.
Jesus is raised again to life.
Our hero wins after all.
He turns loss into gain...death into life.
And that is where the movie should stop.
That is where we would expect it to stop--end on a high note.
But with Jesus, the ending is never where we expect it to be.
The movie doesn’t end with Jesus’ resurrection.
In fact, the film is just getting started.
And we realize this movie is longer than “Gone with the Wind,” longer than the “Lord of the Rings Trilogy”--the extended edition.
Mark ends his gospel with these words: “And afterward Jesus himself sent out through them, from east to west, the sacred and imperishable proclamation of eternal salvation.”
That’s not an ending! We ask: “Wait. What happens next?”
We ask: “But what is that sacred and imperishable proclamation?”
Mark’s ending begs us to go back to the start and read all the way through again.
The “ending” says Jesus was just getting started.
Because there were a lot of people in the world who were still suffering.
People who were still struggling with temptation and sin.
People who were dying.
There are still people in the world who suffer, who sin and who die.
And Jesus isn’t going to rest until all of that is conquered, too.
Jesus is going to do it through you.
The story doesn’t end in the tomb.
The story doesn’t end in this room.
We have come to see Jesus. We expect to see Jesus.
But this morning we are told: “Jesus is not here.”
Because Jesus never seems to be where we expect him to be.
The story is still unfolding...out there...in Galilee.
Out there, a lot of people are carrying crosses. We know Jesus by the crosses he takes up.
And if we are looking for Jesus, that is where we head next.
Out there--to unexpected adventures. To a new, unwritten future.
We are trapped no more, but free!
We go out there to meet Jesus, to help others carry their cross.
Christ is risen!
Lights and action.
Amen. Alleluia.
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"Cross Examination"
Good Friday 2012
[Transcribed from recording.]
Grace to you, friends, and peace which passes all understanding, from our Lord and Savior, the crucified Jesus Christ. Amen.
We share again today the story of Jesus’ suffering and death.
How Jesus was despised, tortured, whipped, spat on, and nailed to a cross.
The irony, friends, is that we call this day Good.
This is the holiest day in the Christian year, the holiest day for you and I and all the followers of Jesus.
It is holier and more silent than Christmas.
In many ways it is even holier than this coming Sunday.
If there were a competition, I don’t know which holiday would win out.
So thank goodness that this service that we have here, now, continues on through tonight and tomorrow, and is finished on Sunday morning.
One long worship service...
Because the story is one and cannot be separated.
This day is the holiest of days for the followers of Jesus.
It is the center of our faith.
Now you might be asking, “Why on earth would we have at the center of our faith and our lives together so much suffering and death?”
And if you look around us, that is exactly what we are surrounded by.
Right in front of us we hang, front and center, and implement of torture, a tool of death...the cross.
Right here in our midst we have a symbol of death, our dying with Christ to be raised up again...this, friends, is a drowning pool.
Right in front of us is a table that we gather around for the meal, it is a place where we spread out a broken body and shed blood.
This is a room where we hold funerals, and right here, in this spot, is where we place the coffin.
Why do we have at the center of our faith so much suffering, why at the center of our faith is death...crucifixion.
Friends. it is because our world is full of suffering,
People who suffer in hunger and want,
People who suffer in natural disasters,
People who suffer in illness,
People who suffer in war and in strife,
People who suffer in domestic violence.
All of us, friends, die...ashes to ashes....dust to dust.
On this day, I am reminded of Job, who had everything in the world and it was all taken away.
All of his family was killed and all of his property was destroyed, and he sat there in his suffering and cried out.
Now Job is just a story, like one of the dialogues of Plato.
A group of thinkers wrote Job to discuss why bad and horrible things happen to innocent people.
They wrote it because our lives so often reflect that question: Why?
Why are innocent people crucified?
Why are people who God says that he loves...why do they suffer and die?
Why, if we are forgiven by the God of all grace, by the God of all steadfast love, why do we suffer?
That is the question that Job asked, because he was righteous.
And his friends came to him and tried to answer that question.
And one said, “Job, you must not have been righteous, you must have done some thing wrong. Why else would God have destroy your life this way?”
But Job, in his faith, said, “No.”
In faith, he said, “I was righteous. This is unfair.”
Then another friend said, “Job, you are right. This is unfair. This is not right. God is trying to take something out on you that you don’t deserve. Turn from your God, stop believing. If this is the way God is going to treat you, why bother, Job? You are going to suffer one way or the other.”
Two other friends came and had arguments like these.
Job, in his faith, was satisfied by none of them.
And cried out all the more, “God, why have you forsaken me?”
And when Job cried out, God came.
But God did not come in love.
God did not come that day in peace.
God came in the gale, in the hurricane, in the wind, with a booming voice and said, “Job, how dare you? How dare you question me, God most high? How dare you complain about how I have given and taken away? Were you there when I created the heavens and the earth? Were you there when I knit you in your mother’s womb? Where you there when I put the planets and stars in their orbits? When I created all the animals to survive in ecosystems? Were you there when I created light and wind and rain...and life?
Job could only say, “No.”
See, friends, God is right.
We have no ground to complain to the Almighty God, the God Most High.
In our suffering, we have no ground to cry out to him to ask for anything different, especially when we visit such destruction on ourselves and one another.
God, that day, was right.
But on this day, we read that God comes to us again, God comes to us in the form of a human being, Jesus Christ.
Because God didn’t want to be right anymore.
God was sick of being right.
And in his compassion and in his love he poured all of his wonderous majesty out, became mortal and then even gave up that body.
That which was perfect and holy became wrong...despised...rejected...denied...defiled...destroyed.
Because the world still suffers, and people still die.
That is why, today, God has died on the cross for us.
So that God, when we cry out to him, will come to us and say, “I suffer with you. I suffer with you and I will be with you through the shadow of the valley of death, and we will come through it together. Because I love you.”
Today we remember Jesus’ death on the cross...for us.
We ask ourselves, “What now?”
After we stood with the crowd--and didn’t just say it, but yelled it “Crucify him! Crucify him!”
After we got what we wanted and behaved in the destructive ways that we go back to like a habit--after all that Jesus is, indeed, dead.
And so we ask, “Now that we’ve gotten what we wanted, what now?”
So we wait...asking that question, knowing that God is present here.
We wait to see what God will do...how God will act...trusting in his unswerving love. Amen.
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"Why Worry?"
Sermon Series: Cross Examination
2/25/12--OSLC
John 12: 20-33
Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.
Our Cross-Examination today begins with the question:
Why worry?
Why worry, indeed.
We have a lot to worry about nowadays, don’t we?
The way things are going...
Even now, you might being carrying some worry with you.
At the very least, you might be worried that I am going to preach for 34 minutes like I did a couple of Wednesdays ago.
And I tell you, I am the last person that should be standing here preaching a sermon about worry.
I think I inherited the “worry gene” from my mother.
I suffer from hurry worry...especially in the car.
I worry about student loans.
I worry about the next steps in my vocation... the unknown adventures ahead.
I worry about my family.
So I can’t stand here and say: “Don’t worry, be happy.”
Because it isn’t that simple, at least it isn’t for me.
The Bible tells us outright: “Don’t worry.”
Jesus says over and over, “Don’t worry.”
But humans worry anyway.
We can’t help it.
It is the way our brain is wired.
Scientists from Harvard University have proven it.
They did a study about a year or so ago.
It turns out that 46.9% of our waking hours, our mind is wandering.
Scientists also found that "A human mind is a wandering mind, and a wandering mind is an unhappy mind.”
All worry is wandering.
Because we may not know what to do. Or they are things we cannot control, things we cannot change. We brood, hovering, wandering around our concerns.
But the road of faith is doubt and worry.
If you are looking for a life without worry, Christianity may not be for you.
To follow Jesus means to strive--struggle--for the Kingdom of God, to seek justice and mercy, to repent, to become better (sanctified) and to care about self, the world and all people.
Worry is a side-effect of caring. Worry is the collision of finite humans with an infinite task.
But thanks be to God that no matter how much we wander in worry, even that road still leads to God.
Earlier in the week, a friend of mine put it this way: “Two wrongs don’t make a right, but three left turns make a right.
God says turn right.
We make a left.
If we are looking at the landmarks, we might realize we went astray that our worries distract us from God’s path. We turned left instead of right.
So we repent--make another left. That’s the effect of the law.
But then the law makes us worry more--we worry about having messed up!
Finally, we realize that without God we are utterly lost.
So we make another left and turn to God. Grace is the final left turn.
What am I saying?
If you have turned down the road of doubt and worry, follow that road to God.
Don’t be paralyzed by fear or guilt.
The mystery of faith is that death leads to life.
The mystery of faith is that worry can lead to greater trust in God--but only if we keep turning left once we have gone astray.
Let me share the example of Jacob from the book of Genesis.
Jacob and his brother, Esau, were estranged.
Jacob had stolen his brother’s birthright--his inheritance, the blessing of their father,--everything.
Esau, as you can imagine, was angry...very angry. Esau was murderously angry.
So, Jacob ran away.
Eventually, God said to him “Go back home.”
Jacob heard that Esau was coming out to meet him, and reports said Esau had 400 men with him.
Jacob got scared. He got worried.
Jacob thought that Esau was coming to take revenge.
Looking for a way out of the situation, Jacob sent out his servants in waves with money, sheep, oxen, donkeys, servants.
Jacob hoped to appease his brother with these gifts.
And he made camp, waiting to follow the next morning.
Jacob didn’t get much sleep that night. His heart was troubled.
His mind was racing, trying to figure out a way to avoid what tomorrow would bring, trying to anticipate what tomorrow would bring.
He felt all alone. He was alone.
Suddenly, he was wrestling a man.
Later, Jacob would realize that it was God who had come to spar with him.
Jacob was out-matched. Who can beat God on the wrestling mat?
But Jacob was stubborn.
It was a stalemate.
God said, “Let it go.”
Jacob replied, “I will not let you go until you have blessed me.”
You see when we start wrestling with worry, we become strong and stubborn.
When we sit with our worry for a while, we sink deeper and deeper into it.
And no matter who or what comes along to comfort us, we use all of our strength to resist it.
God didn’t come for a fight, he came to comfort.
But Jacob wanted--needed--to struggle.
What grace that God struggles, that God is tenacious and patient with us.
Have you ever gone to a friend who was worried and said, “Don’t worry, be happy?”
What is the response? They argue. They give every reason why they should worry.
The worried person clings desperately to worry, struggles against any consolation.
And though we struggle and resist it, though we doggedly hold on to our worry, God grabs hold of us and doesn’t let go.
When we wander in worry, God says: “Focus on me.”
One way we do that is pray. In prayer we wrestle God as Jacob did.
Practical psychology will tell you that prayer focuses the mind.
But prayer also focuses the spirit.
In prayer we turn to God.
In prayer, we face our worries and listen for God’s promises.
There is a use of the word ‘worry’ that we don’t hear too often.
It means, “to tear at, gnaw on, drag around with the teeth.”
I will use it in a sentence: “I found my dog contentedly worrying a bone.”
Isn’t that how worry feels? Gnawing, tearing, dragging.
When we worry, all we do is gnaw on and tear at our own soul.
In prayer, we replace our worrying bone with God.
Our spirits are like rawhide, but God is too strong to wear out...we can trust in God’s permanent love.
The world says, “Don’t worry, be happy.”
The world would rather we forget our cares. It does not respect our troubles or our troubled hearts.
The world offers every vain and empty distraction so that we forget our worries in the busyness of life.
But God simply sits with us in silence and respect.
God struggles with our worries alongside of us. God struggles with us.
And we realize, “If God is for me, who can be against me?”
God is the only effective distraction from our worries, doubts, anxieties and cares.
God struggles with us, gnaws at us--lets us gnaw on him--until we accept God’s blessing. Until we are ready to hear peace, hope...comfort.
Jacob turned down worry lane...and kept on that road all the way back to God.
Every road leads to Jesus Christ.
Today, we give thanks for the life of little Gwendolyn. And we baptize her in the name above all names, the name that is forever and always glorified.
Robert and Jennifer, you are going to worry about Gwendolyn for the rest of your natural lives.
You are going to see Gwendolyn worry and fret as she goes through life.
It cannot be helped.
But as time goes by, when you fall deep into worry, remember this day.
For on this day, God’s name is glorified in Gwendolyn’s life.
Today God promises to struggle with Gwendolyn, to struggle alongside her.
Today God says, “I will continue to glorify my name in her. She is my child, and nothing can separate her from my love, no matter how many left turns she makes.”
So when you worry, gnaw on this:
God has glorified his name before, and God will do it again.
Jesus faced death on the cross, and his heart was troubled because of it.
But what was he to do? Turn away from God’s plan?
No, he went, worrying along the way.
But God did not leave his side.
God did not leave his child on the cross.
Jesus sank down into death.
God did not leave his soul in hell.
Even through death and hell, God glorified his name.
The LORD is with you.
God walks with you through life in this world--through every danger, every evil.
But no matter what happens, God will glorify his name again--in you.
That is a promise.
Thanks be to God.
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Sermon Series: Cross-Examination
Title: “Who’s Leading?”
Mark 8:31-38
There is a whole lot of rebuking going on in today’s gospel.
To rebuke someone is to show disapproval...to criticize their actions or behavior.
Peter rebukes Jesus...something that is hard to imagine anyone doing.
Jesus rebukes Peter. Then Jesus rebukes the Twelve.
Then he rebukes the crowd that is gathered.
It just goes to show that when two or three are gathered, even if they are gathered in Christ’s name--even if Jesus is present--people still disagree and argue.
But why on earth did Peter rebuke Jesus?
Jesus had just got done telling the disciples how he would be despised and rejected by the people, by the scribes and pharisees and chief priests.
He told them he would have to suffer and die.
Jesus was preparing them for the inevitability of the cross.
Peter examined this plan and decided it was no good.
So he pulled Jesus aside to scold him:
“Jesus, why are talking this way? You are going to scare people. No one is going to follow you if you keep talking about this cross business. Besides, what will it accomplish? What can we accomplish if you are killed? Surely there is another way. We love you, Jesus, we don’t want you to die. We will protect you. We can go into hiding if you want. We will find another way to do what God sent you to do.”
In response, Jesus turned on Peter and said, “Get behind me, Satan.”
And on that day, Peter was Satan.
Jesus didn’t want to die on the cross, but it was God’s plan.
And Peter was trying to tempt him to forsake God’s plan.
We remember back to last week--the story of Jesus in the wilderness.
God sent Jesus into the desert to meditate and to fast.
No one wants to fast, but it was what God told him to do. So Jesus went.
After 40 days of not eating, Jesus was hungry.
And just then, Satan came to him and said, “You know, you have the power to turn these stones into bread. You can eat and have your fill.”
But Jesus rebuked him, saying, “One does not eat on bread alone, but is fed by every word that comes from the mouth of God.”
In the gospels, Jesus only rebukes demons--the demons that possess people and he rebukes Satan.
He rebukes Peter because Peter was tempting him to deny the cross.
So, at first, Peter examines the cross, puts the cross in trial.
Peter concludes: “That’s nuts!”
Then comes Jesus’ rebuttal.
And all of a sudden, Peter is on the stand, Peter is being cross-examined.
Today, we are on the stand.
Jesus looks us in the eye and says, “Get behind me.”
Before the cross, we must ask ourselves: “Who’s Leading?”
A couple weeks ago in R.O.C.K., our Sr. high and college members, informed me about the “Jesus App.”
Does everyone know what an “app” is?
An ‘application’ is a program for an ipad or a smartphone. They are tools.
You can get an app that serves as a tip calculator, a GPS app, a app to help you follow the stock market, there are a ton of games you can get.
I think you can even get an app that will run water from the kitchen sink.
With the Jesus App you can type in a word or phrase that Jesus used or a big theological word that the church has come up with over the centuries, and the Jesus app will provide you an explanation of what Jesus meant.
I was amazed by this. Do you know how many books I lug around from seminary?
All this time, all I needed was an iPad!
There are all sorts of religious apps. You can have Bible verses sent to you each day. You can look up passages in the Bible.
You can have inspirational quotes sent to you.
You can access all sorts of devotional material.
These are great tools to deepen one’s faith.
With these apps, we can be bathed in the Word of God.
They are that can be used to become disciples, to share the Good News of God.
These apps can help us pray without ceasing.
But there is one danger to the Jesus app and others like it.
These apps can tempt us.
All of a sudden, we start carrying Jesus around with us like a cell phone.
We start treating our faith as an application.
We go out blazing our own adventurous paths in life, and as soon as we run into trouble, we pull out our cell phone and consult the Jesus App.
When we need an answer or a solution, we go to the Jesus App.
We go about our business, reassured that Jesus is in our pocket, that we can call on him when we need him, but only when there is a bump in the road.
But that isn’t the way it works.
Jesus is already out there, ahead of us.
Jesus is standing with the people of the world who are suffering.
Jesus is calling us to look for God in strange places.
Our way is Jesus. He has gone out ahead of us to prepare a path and a mission.
We are cross-examined: Who’s Leading?
The Bible is full of stories, stories of faithful people who thought God was at their side, only to find out that God was way ahead of them and they had to catch up.
[Brief Stories]
Abraham--call to leave the land of his forebears to go to the land of Canaan.
Noah--G:rains will come; N: I will build a yacht for my family; G: No, you will need an ark; N: but we don’t need that much room; G: Yes, you will. You will need to take all of the animals with you; N: the animals? Why?; G: Because when the waters subside, you and your family will need all of those animals.
King David--wanted to build Yahweh a beautiful temple, but God said, “No. It is not for you to build me a house. I give you another task. You will need those resources for other things, like providing for the people of Israel.
Jonah--didn’t want to go to Nineveh to preach to those pagans. Jonah didn’t want those sinful people to be forgiven. But God said, “Go.” Because God wanted to show mercy on all of humanity...even if that wasn’t the plan according to Jonah.
So what about Our Savior’s? Where is Jesus leading us?
You see Jesus meets us here. He is so glad to see us.
Here, Jesus asks us to follow him. We say, “Yes.”
And excited, Jesus dashes off to do what God sent him for.
As soon as we eat his body and blood, he transports--like in Star Trek--to someplace out there.
So where in the world is Jesus?
I don’t know for sure...that is what we figure out together in prayer and study and in faith.
But it is not going to be where we expect, I can almost guarantee that.
In Christ, there is no East or West.
In Rockford, there is. There is an East side and a West side.
So we follow Jesus Christ across the division.
In Christ, there is no Jew or Greek.
So we might be called to spend time with pagans or Jews or Muslims or atheists.
Some Christians call these people “Enemies of the Gospel.”
They need help, too. God loves our “enemies”--otherwise he wouldn’t ask us to.
In Christ, there is no slave. And there is no person who is free, either.
In Christ, there is no male or female.
In Christ, there is no rich or poor.
Jesus is not an app on the cell phone in our pocket.
This is why we are going to Mend Minot, this is why we are going to Virginia:
Because Christ is already there working, and we are going to join him.
This is why we partner with the ELCA, with the Northern Illinois Synod, with Lutheran Social services of IL, with Rockford Area Lutheran Ministries.
This is why we partner with organizations across Rockford, from Carpenter’s Place to the Rescue Mission to the Jail ministry.
Because Jesus is already there...and Jesus is the one leading us.
Jesus tells us that there are three steps to discipleship:
1. deny yourself
2. take up your cross
3. follow me
1. Deny yourself.
He says that those who lose their life will gain it.
This does not necessarily mean that we must literally lose our lives.
In some places in the world, Christians are killed because of the faith.
But not here.
And the idea of the cross is that Jesus died for the sake of the gospel so that we wouldn’t have to.
So what is losing our life?
It is denying our assumptions, our world-views, our self-focused concerns.
It is seeking first the Kingdom of God, and denying our own plans for the world.
God calls us to lose our life, that is lose the life of our choosing.
And thank God for it, because in my opinion it is a dreadful thing to be forced to always do what one wants to do.
2. Take up your cross.
When we put aside our own plans and desires, we are free to take up the cross.
We lose our life. We take on Jesus’ life. We imitate Christ.
We turn away from our path and follow Jesus...out there, where he is waiting for us.
What is your cross?
Some bear illness. Some bear the burdens of others.
Some fight for justice. Some work for peace.
The cross hanging here is a symbol of all of the crosses that people are carrying out there. It is a symbol of the cross that you might be bearing even now.
No one wants to carry a cross. Jesus didn’t.
But it is such a task, that if we deny the cross, we lose our life.
If Jesus had decided not to be crucified, if he had decided to live a long life and to die peacefully in his own bed at a ripe old age, then death would never have been conquered.
We can’t conquer death. We don’t have to, Jesus did.
But there are evils in this world besides death that we can conquer.
3. We follow Jesus.
That last one is the grace. The first two steps are requirements. They heap responsibility on us...they burden us.
But that last one: follow Jesus.
Ah, what a relief!
It sounds like another task: “After all that hard work and sacrifice, now we have to follow you all over creation on top of it!?!?!”
But to follow Jesus is grace, relief, a light burden.
Because we can trust that when we go out on a limb, when we cross human divisions, when we have left behind all of the comfort of the status quo, when we step out onto the sea of change, we know that we don’t step out alone.
Jesus is already out there waiting for us.
Waiting to hold us in his arms.
Waiting to stand in front of us to protect us.
Waiting for us to join him in mission.
Jesus is out there, waiting to lead us.
Thanks be to God for that.
Amen.
"Open to God in Prayer"
Lenten Mid-week Service, February 29th, 2012
Psalm 1.1-3
“Happy are those who do not follow the advice of the wicked, or take the path that sinners tread, or sit in the seat of scoffers; but their delight is in the law of the LORD, and on his law they meditate day and night. They are like trees planted by streams of water, which yield their fruit in its season, and their leaves do not wither. In all that they do, they prosper.”
This Lent we are talking about the marks of discipleship.
When we talk about marks of discipleship, we are talking about actions--things that disciples do so that people can see them and re-mark on them. Actions that we do that others can learn from and that others can imitate, just as we imitate Jesus.
Last week, Pastor Jeff broke down the marks of discipleship into two groups.
On the one hand, there are things that disciples do through which they receive things from God.
And on the other hand, there are things that disciples do to give.
One hand receiving and one hand giving.
Today we are talking about prayer.
I realized something about prayer: when Christians pray, they usually use both hands--they bow there heads and fold their hands.
Then I realized that, yes, when Christian’s pray they use both hands.
When we pray, we give our words to God and our attention.
When we pray we give thanks to God.
We give praise and honor and glory to God.
When we pray, we lift up all of the concerns on our hearts and we give them over to God.
But when we pray, we also receive things from God.
In prayer, we become open to receive God.
And that is what I want to focus on. How, in prayer, we receive.
The question now is what is something that we do (mark of discipleship) that helps remind us and helps show others that in prayer we are open to God?
And that’s when it hit me. The orans position.
Now, this is a very ancient, Christian way to pray [standing with arms lifted up].
And it is the perfect symbol of the openness of prayer.
For the next forty days--less than that, we are already a week into Lent--for the rest of Lent I encourage you to pray like this.
Try it. When you pray at home, when you pray here at church, and wherever you pray, for the rest of Lent pray, “lifting up holy hands” as Paul says in 2 Timothy.
At first you will feel a little silly, it takes getting used to.
But try it. And if, after the 40-day trial you still feel ridiculous, then go back to praying the way you are comfortable with.
But no matter how you pray--and there is no right or wrong way--I ask you to keep the image in your mind of lifting up holy hands--to remember that when we pray we are not only giving but receiving.
Prayer is being open:
What I am suggesting is that when we pray, we open ourselves to God.
We open our lips to speak. We open our ears to listen.
We open our minds to understand. We open our hearts to love.
Why would we not open our arms to call, to welcome, to accept?
Why would we not open our arms to receive?
It is winter in the Northern Hemisphere. It is cold.
And all of creation cries out for the warmth and life of spring.
Even now, the earth is moving around in its orbit.
Earth has begun to tilt back again, like a sunflower, to catch the sun’s rays more directly.
The Northern Hemisphere flings its arms wide to welcome the return of the sun, to receive warmth and light.
And after a long winter of hurrying from building to building, huddling against the cold.
But on a warm day, like this morning...when the sun is shining and it is unseasonably warm, we stop halfway.
We stand—faces to the sky—and enjoy the warmth and brightness.
We stretch out our arms so that we can catch as much of the sun’s power as possible.
God is brighter, warmer and more loving than the sun, why would we not greet him with the same openness?
Open to receive Grace:
I am told that when I was a baby, I hated having dirty hands (I still do). You know that soap with the grit in it...exfoliating beads, I think they are. That stuff grosses me out.
I wouldn’t mind getting them dirty—I relished every meal that my hands brought to my mouth and smeared all over the highchair. But as soon as the grubby activity was done, I would lift up my hands and call for my mother to wash them.
Our first prayer in Lent, or first prayer when we stand before God is a prayer of confession and repentance. We ask to receive God’s forgiveness.
God comes to wash our hands clean…should we not present these to him?
Open to receive God’s help:
When we gather to worship, we carry many burdens with us from the previous week.
We are called as disciples to share one another’s burdens.
Discipleship is an infinite responsibility...to help all in need, to share the Good News with all the nations.
We begin to feel like Atlas, from pagan mythology, holding the world up on our backs.
Jesus said, “Come to me, you who are weary and heavy laden...take my yoke.”
In prayer, we don’t just give these burdens up and throw them off on God.
Instead, we lift them up to the Lord...and receive God’s own strength to bear through.
Atlas bore the world on his shoulders and was bowed down by it.
We bear the Kingdom of God to the world—much heavier cargo—and yet our backs are straight!
Open to God, open to others:
Psalm 1 says that we are trees planted by the streams of God.
We are trees that bear fruit.
So when we pray like trees, we are not only opening ourselves up to God, we are opening ourselves up to others.
Sisters and brothers, I have often wondered how the Statue of Liberty—a symbol of our nation’s ideals—can stand the way it does.
Her body language is so different from the words at her feet. Remember those famous words from the poem by Emma Lazarus:
“Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”
Lady Liberty says these words as she stands sternly with a clip-board in her hand.
I might believe her plaque, which speaks about welcoming undesirable immigrants, more if she had her arms out to greet them.
But that book she holds has paperwork that sends many back.
Her torch truly shows everyone the door—one way or the other.
But she does not look prepared to gather in the huddled masses.
By the grace of God, sisters and brothers, we are ready. We stand ready with open arms.
The Statue of Liberty is a symbol of a nation of this world—based on good ideals without means or will to truly attain to them.
But we are symbols—nay more than symbols, ambassadors—of Jesus Christ.
With both hands Christ gathers us, the wretched, and lifts us to God’s light.
As his ambassadors, we are conduits of the divine...lightening rods of God’s glory, cell phone towers communicating God’s Word, trees bearing fruit to feed the world.
Prayer from the Cross
Jesus lifted his hands up on the cross.
There, in that position, he prayed for the whole world.
On that tree, he became fruit for all of humanity to eat.
As Disciples, we strive to become like Christ, we strive to imitate him.
And so we lift our hands to pray.
We stand like trees to bear fruit to the whole world.
Conclusion
Friends, during this Lenten journey, the world is a desert.
The world’s oases are just a mirage.
And yet we as Disciples stand as tall trees amidst a sea of sand.
We wait for the refreshing rains of grace, the streams of baptismal waters.
For without those waters from God we cannot bear fruit.
And with these graces poured out on us, we open our arms in pleasure, thankfulness and satisfaction—bold against the dryness and heat!
We are disciples...we are trees planted by streams of God’s grace and love in Jesus Christ.
In prayer we stand, arms outstretched, open to God.
Soak it in!
Amen.
______________________________
"Recognizing Jesus"
Transfiguration Sunday
2/19/2012
Grace to you and peace from God our Father, and the Lord, Jesus Christ. Amen.
Our Christian faith is offensive.
It is hard enough to believe in a God “up there.”
It is hard to believe in an unseen God who created the cosmos...who is always hidden in nature, hidden from sight.
But Christians say more about God than this.
We say that God came to earth as a human being.
How could God be a human being? It doesn’t make sense!
Think of the Wonderful Wizard of Oz.
The Wizard ruled over the land of Oz, was feared and beloved. He had such power, commanded such devotion because he was magical...seemingly omnipotent.
He appeared as a giant, green floating head...a really loud, giant floating head.
All of their hopes: to go home, to get a brain, heart or courage, to be protected from the Wicked Witch...all of there hopes were placed in the power of the Wizard.
Dorothy and her companions feared the Wizard, obeyed the Wizard, believed in the Wizard.
Only one of them, Toto, didn’t buy it.
And when the curtain is pulled aside, what is revealed? A mere mortal, a human.
The Wizard was a fraud.
Dorothy and her company, seeing the wizard was merely human, despaired.
Peter struggled with the same despair.
When the curtain was pulled aside to reveal God, humanity saw...a human being.
And the world did not recognize Jesus.
The world saw God face-to-face without recognizing it.
Peter saw Jesus face-to-face. We today imagine that this would have made faith easier.
But did seeing Jesus make it easier for Peter? I am not so sure.
The Bible says that God neither slumbers nor sleeps.
Jesus got tired. Jesus slept.
Jesus ate (breakfast, lunch and dinner--not just one last supper).
Peter, I am sure, saw Jesus go off to use the bathroom.
Is that something gods do? Bet you never thought of that.
Jesus wept; Jesus laughed.
Shylock in Shakespeare’s Merchant of Venice exclaims, “If you prick me, do I not bleed?” Shylock, a Jew, was trying to argue that Jews were human beings just like Christians. Humans can be hurt, they are mortal.
Jesus bled.
Peter was faced daily, constantly, with Jesus the human.
Was this God? Peter wasn’t so sure, until...
One day, when Peter woke up, Jesus wanted to take a hike up a mountain.
Peter wasn’t so excited.
They just got done with a six day stint with a huge crowd--healing, preaching and serving the masses.
Before that, they were in Bethsaida; before that they were in the countryside where they hosted a meal for 4,000 people; before that they were in Sidon with side trips to 9 other cities; before that they were in Tyre.
Peter was tired.
And now a long walk up a tall mountain. Why for? But they went: Peter, James and John, and Jesus.
Finally, they get to the top. Turns out it was a perfectly normal mountain...nothing was up there but rock and some brush.
Suddenly Jesus changes before their very eyes!
His robe is now white, luminescent.
A halo appears.
A couple of important dead people show up--out of nowhere.
The disciples see Jesus in the full glory of God, exuding the power of the Kingdom.
James and John don’t say a word.
Jesus is carrying on a perfectly normal conversation with Moses and Elijah.
Peter, careful not to touch any of the three dazzling men, walks up beside Jesus.
He didn’t know what to say, we are told.
But that wasn’t gonna stop him.
“This is nice. We found a good spot here.”
Silence.
Peter was uncomfortable not knowing what to say, wanted something to do.
“I know. How about I build three booths, one for each of you.”
Now, we don’t use booths today like the ones Peter offered.
If it happened today, it might have gone like this:
“Um, do you guys want to sit down someplace, stay awhile? I could build a couple of chairs.”
Just then, as if to save Peter from further embarrassing himself, a cloud comes over the mountain, and a booming voice says:
“This is my Son! Listen to him!”
The Wizard said “Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain.”
God says, “Pay attention to the man.”
With that Elijah and Moses--the law and the prophets--fade away.
They are left with Jesus...
And whether we recognize it or not, we are too.
It is unfortunate for us that we hear this story from the gospel.
All of the miracles of Jesus in the gospels are unfortunate.
Because they distract us.
We see humans every day. We see very mundane and ordinary things.
We look for God in different things.
We look for flashes of light, booming voices. We cry out for miracles and supernatural experiences...so that we might have proof of God’s existence.
We look, but God remains unseen, unrecognizable.
I am convinced of a funny idea.
We have all seen Jesus. We have, each and all, witnessed a transfiguration like Peter.
Jesus was just hard to recognize...because he still today looks all too human.
A woman is dying at the hospital...her daughter is there and a caring nurse.
The woman dies--all three are transfigured...in sorrow, in compassion...in peace.
Death is a holy moment.
But who is Jesus? The one who dies?
The loving daughter who has walked with her mother to the gates of death?
The compassionate nurse who cares for them both?
A few weeks ago, I went with members of Our Savior’s to serve dinner at the Rockford Rescue Mission.
I saw two of our members carrying on a very normal conversation with a homeless man.
They hand him a meal.
The homeless man is transfigured, his face shines with gratitude, love...and maybe
hope. But the other two are shining, too...for the same reasons.
But who is Jesus?
The suffering homeless man who was turned out of every inn?
Or the two that shared with the man a meal and a few words of good news in a life filled with bad news?
There is a party...there could be any reason. New year’s, a graduation, a birthday; or no reason.
Good friends sit around a table. Maybe they don’t see one another very often anymore; maybe they see each other every day.
They sit talking after a meal.
All of a sudden, the whole table is transfigured in laughter.
But who is Jesus?
God touches our worldly experiences--the things we do every day:
Marriage; work; maintaining a home; bearing children; growing into adulthood.
Life in the face of hunger, disaster, and disease. Joy in the face of suffering.
These are the true miracles.
Jesus is present with us in very human moments.
And these moments are transfigured into Holy Moments.
Moments when we feel that God exists...moments when we recognize God is with us.
But just like in our Gospel this morning, we find that these moments are fleeting.
As quick as they come, these moments pass.
A moment later, the dying one is still dead; the homeless man is still homeless.
Jesus becomes a mere human again, leads us back down the mountain.
We go back to our tasks....
But things aren’t quite the same.
We have hope and strength to go forward, trusting that God is here by our side.
Jesus came so that we might see all of creation transfigured, so that we might recognize God in the places and people we least expected.
With Jesus, a hike becomes a journey.
Every human is made holy.
Every human relationship, from spouse to stranger, becomes an opportunity to recognize Jesus, God in our midst.
Amen.
_________________________________
"A Healing Word"
January 28th/29th
Fourth Sunday after Epiphany
Service of Healing
Mark 1:21-28
In the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.
[Saturday Only: Last Sunday I was in Seattle, finishing my final seminary class. As the day ended, I gathered with my classmates and professors for dinner at a Chinese restaurant in the neighborhood of Phinney Ridge. At the end of dinner, we all got fortune cookies. I would like to share my fortune with you, it read: “This coming Saturday will be an exciting time for you.” Here we are. And it is exciting to celebrate the resurrection of Jesus Christ with you. And the scripture we have before us tonight is exciting, too. Mark shares a tale of an exorcism with us.]
Jesus said, “Be silent, and come out of him!” And the unclean spirit, convulsing him and crying out with a loud voice, came out of him.
It is a scene out of the Exorcist or The Rite or any of the other exorcism movies.
Bodily contortions; unearthly voices; demon howls.
Stuff that only happens in tall tales and films. Exciting. And a little scary.
But demons don’t really exist, do they?
St. Paul writes in one of his letters about sin, he says: “I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate.” (Rom. 7.15)
Paul knew the Commandments, wanted to follow them with all of his being, and yet still could not.
Paul goes on to talk about sin like it is a demon trying to possess his body and soul.
“For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want to do--this I keep doing. Now if I do what I do not want, it is no longer I who do it, but sin that dwells within me.”
(Romans 7.19-20)
Don’t we sometimes wrestle with ourselves this way, like Paul?
Have we no demons of our own?
Let us suppose that we are the ones with an unclean spirit.
What do we make of this story, then?
They came to Capernaum and on the Sabbath day Jesus went into the synagogue and began to teach.
And the people were astounded by his teaching.
A closer translation is: “Jesus blew their minds.”
What on earth did he say?
We know what he said, actually. Jesus had only one message: “The Kingdom of God is at hand.” Whatever else he said or did, he was simply unpacking that one sentence.
But, if you notice, the people in Mark don’t talk about what Jesus said.
No, those gathered in the synagogue start twittering and tweeting about HOW Jesus said what he said.
They say: “What is this? A new teaching? Yes...but with authority.”
Who speaks with authority in our lives?
Politicians?
Do bloggers speak with authority?
How about newspapers? Television news shows?
Do terrorists speak with authority?
There are many in the world who want authority over us.
Jesus spoke with authority.
He blew people’s minds, turned their worlds upside down.
Jesus spoke the truth, and people started to realize the untruth they were living in.
The people didn’t know what to make of it.
Everyone was stunned.
But one man in that synagogue understood the implications of Jesus’ words.
That man stood up, and the evil in him shouted, “Have you come to destroy us?”
You see, when a person hears the truth, and realizes what they had known was false, something has to give.
When the Spirit of Truth dawns on us, the Father of Lies perishes.
Untruth dies when we learn the truth, and we change.
We have a name for this, and we call it conversion.
Learning the truth, we turn away from our old way of thinking.
And when the truth in-forms, when we know it by heart, when the truth forms us inwardly, we turn away from our old ways of behaving.
There was a man who lived in Seattle. He and his wife did not attend church.
But when they had a child, they decided to get her baptized.
Before the pastor would baptize the child, this man and woman were invited to hear the Word in worship, to receive the sacraments, and to study the Scriptures with a small group preparing to take the baptismal vows.
It was a year long process--a big commitment, really. But they decided to do it.
Suddenly, six months into process, the man called the pastor: “We need to talk.”
They met the next day.
The pastor asked, “What is it?”
The man said, “It’s my job. I have been studying the Bible and learning what it means to be a Christian. If what I have learned is true, I can’t be a good husband to my wife, a good baptismal father to my child or a follower of Jesus if I keep the job I have.”
They had never talked about work, so the pastor asked, “Well, what do you do?”
“I manage a “gentlemen’s club.”
The pastor paused, then said “I think you’re right.”
The pastor asked, “Well, what do you think you would like to do instead?”
The man said, “My wife says that I would make a great funeral director.”
The next week, he and the pastor had lunch with a local mortician to see what was involved with becoming a funeral director.
The next week, he and the pastor had lunch with a local mortician to see what was involved with becoming a funeral director.
After their child was baptized, the man quit his job. He and his family sold their house and moved so that he could go to mortuary school.
When he graduated, they moved across the country to a small town where he is today a funeral director, and a highly respected person in the community.
He and his family are happier for the change.
Every encounter with Jesus results in a conversion...
We get angry and frustrated. Foul moods color the way we look at life and the people around us. We get comfortable with these attitudes, they begin to fit us like old leather, or like our favorite jeans.
Jesus does not leave us at the mercy of these spirits. Jesus speaks; patience and love grow.
Illnesses possess our bodies. Jesus comes to speak a healing word. Sometimes the demon of disease gives way to health. But even if the body succumbs, that healing word feeds and frees the spirit.
The Bible calls depression the “noon-day demon” because the despairing sit in darkness even in the bright light of day.
But day and night, Jesus is there, saying: “You are a baptized and beloved child of God. Do not be afraid.” Light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.
If you look in a mirror and despise what you see...by whose authority do you judge? Who has charge over your eyes? For what God sees is beautiful. God has called his creation good, God has deemed you perfect. Hearing this truth frees the eye and changes the heart.
Are these not exorcisms? Are these not conversions?
When we meet Jesus our sinfulness is revealed.
The lid on the sin in us is blown open. The truth of the gospel, the power of Christ, compels us to change.
When the evil that holds us captive comes to light, Jesus does not turn his back on us, he doesn't leave us in bondage, but works to free us. How wonderful a Savior, how great a healer! For even if we stand up in the crowd, even in the midst of the synagogue, and resist--though we fight against the truth and the way of Jesus Christ seven times seventy times, God does not give up on us.
You may be struggling with a demon even now in your own life, for we see that demons take many forms.
I am not called to be a judge sitting in authority.
I am called to point to the place where all of your sins, all of your demons, will die.
In the waters of Baptism we die with Christ. Our old self, beset by disease and demons, dies away. And just as Christ was raised, we are raised to new life. In the twinkling of an eye we are changed. All things become fresh and new.
I am called to share this Good News: the Kingdom of God is at hand, the time is now.
Jesus is coming to you this morning, this week--in flesh and blood.
Jesus is coming to speak truth to you in the midst of half-truths, misinformation, confusion and lies.
Jesus is coming to speak a Word of healing to you--whatever that looks like.
Jesus is coming to restore to you your life.
It is the Sabbath.
Come. Hear a Word of healing.
Thanks be to God.
Amen.
_______________________
Weeds and the Eye of the Beholder
July 24th, 2011
Sermon on Matthew 13:31-33, 44-52
Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.
I have seen a lot of brown lawns this week.
Things have been dry here.
It makes me think of Texas, and surrounding states.
I think of the drought conditions they endure now, conditions that have been compared to the dustbowl of the early 20th century.
It is much worse there than here, but our brown grass has made my heart go out in compassion and empathy.
My own lawn has turned almost entirely brown, it looks as though nothing can grow with the lack of moisture, and yet there is still one thing growing around my house: WEEDS.
They are still popping up everywhere...I don’t understand it.
Last week, Pastor shared with us Jesus’ parable of the wheat and the weeds.
She shared how weeds, children of the evil one, will crop up amidst the wheat, the children of God.
And the Master wisely tells his servants not to pull them up, but to wait for the harvest, for the sake of the wheat.
She shared how each of us is a field, and that through the Holy Spirit we bear fruit: grains of wheat to feed the world.
But that weeds also grow out of each one of us. We are tempted by the enemy, and we all fall into sin.
Between her sermon and the relentless weeds growing in this heat, I have had weeds on my mind in the last several days.
Weeds even crop up in today’s gospel, so we gotta take a look at weeds this morning.
For two summers, while I was Out East, I worked at Yale’s Marsh Botanical Gardens.
It was one of my favorite jobs.
I learned all sorts of things about horticulture and agriculture.
I watered, planted and transplanted green, growing things; I mulched, felled trees and pruned shrubs; I did a lot of weeding...a lot of weeding.
Weeds are job security for a gardener.
I learned something about weeds during my time at Marsh Gardens.
“Weed” is a relative term.
“Weed” is not a category of plant.
Instead, a weed is simply a plant that does not belong.
It is a plant that springs up on its own, and is not a part of the planned landscaping.
See, every gardener has a purpose and a plan...but there are always plants that spring up that don’t belong...these are weeds.
Let me share an example.
Marsh Gardens had many beautiful Japanese Maple trees.
These trees are highly desired in botanical gardens and yards.
Their branches spread out in wonderful, gnarled patterns.
Their leaves have a beautiful shape and pretty colors.
But Japanese Maples also propagate quickly.
At Marsh Gardens, I pulled a lot of Japanese Maple seedlings out of the ground.
I pulled them because they were weeds growing where they didn’t belong.
Dandelions are the same way.
In our yards, the dandelions are weeds...our purpose is to have lush, green grass.
The voracious, yellow blossoms are not a part of that plan.
But one of the most beautiful sights I have seen, I saw in Wisconsin.
I was driving along the road, and I looked out the window onto a green field of grass that was covered with the bright, golden flowers of the dandelion.
It was breath-taking...even though it was a reminder that I was in Packer territory.
The dandelions belonged there...but not on my lawn.
These are judgement calls.
And it is human nature to make such judgments...it is so tempting for us to focus on what we think the plan is, and to cut or pull out whatever doesn’t fit.
This is what the servants last week wanted to do: pull the weeds that didn’t belong.
But the Master had a different plan, and told the servants to wait for the harvest.
I believe that God’s plan and purpose is so much larger than our purposes and plans.
I believe that there are a lot of things that we call weeds...
But when God looks upon them, he doesn’t see weeds, but wheat...
I believe that when God looks upon our sinfulness, he doesn’t see an evil person, but a beautiful, fruit-bearing field.
God pronounces us wheat...God pronounces us righteous, even while we are sinners.
I believe that humans look at a lot of things and people and think, “that’s a weed.”
But when God looks, God sees wheat for the harvest.
Because God’s plan is bigger than we are able to see.
And that is the message of the parable of the mustard seed that we share today.
The Kingdom of God is like a mustard seed, the smallest of all seeds, that grows into a large and strong tree.
Jesus means that the Kingdom starts in small ways...but grows and grows.
But the parable has another meaning, just as deep and rich.
You see, the mustard tree was considered a weed in ancient Israel.
Like the Japanese maple, it would spring up where it didn’t belong.
In reading the Bible, you might have heard about the cedars of Lebanon.
One of Lebanon’s most valuable resources were these large, tall cedars.
They were exported all over the Middle East and the Mediterranean to build ships and buildings.
King Solomon purchased cedars from Lebanon to build the Temple in Jerusalem.
Well, cedars didn’t grow in Israel.
Mustard trees did.
Compared to cedar, the mustard tree was a weed.
On top of that, Jews were not allowed to plant mustard trees in their gardens.
Rabbis, looking at the 19th chapter of Leviticus, took biblical law to mean that mustard was a weed, undesirable...and not to be planted, but to be pulled out.
So, when Jesus said that the Kingdom of God is like the mustard seed, it was a scandalous statement. Israelites would wonder why the Messiah would want to plant weeds in the garden of paradise.
It would be as though a landscaper coming to your house and saying, “I want to plant a bunch of dandelions in your yard.”
God’s kingdom, his plan and purpose, is larger than we can fathom...and he uses plants in his garden that we would rather pull out as weeds.
If we humans pulled all of the weedy people out of the Bible, the scriptures would be a pretty bare field.
Think about it.
Moses killed a guy in Egypt. I would have judged him a weed.
But God planted Moses along the waters of the Nile to bear the fruit of freedom from slavery for the Hebrews.
King David saw Bathsheba on the rooftop and made her his consort. Then he tried to murder her husband to cover it up! I would call that a weed.
But God saw David as the leader that Israel needed...and David’s branch, the Root of Jesse, indeed, provided shelter and blessings for God’s people.
In Matthew, chapter 12, Jesus told his disciples to pick grain and cook it on the Sabbath so that they could eat. Jesus broke the Commandment, “You shall observe the Sabbath and keep it holy,” he did work when he should have been resting.
The Pharisees called Jesus a weed, saying to the disciples: “You really think this man is the Messiah? He refuses to obey God’s commandments.”
To human eyes, Jesus often looked like a weed. He was hung on the tree because he acted like a weed.
Yet, Jesus was the seed from which would grow the tree of the Kingdom of God.
Now we see why Jesus said, “Judge not lest ye be judged.”
We don’t know God’s purpose or plan.
Our sight is limited and we get confused about what is wheat and what is weed.
Our idea of the Kingdom is too small and too narrow...our idea of the Kingdom is often all too human.
On Monday, I was watching the evening news.
A story came on about a Mr. Stroman.
This man was to be executed in Texas this week.
In the days after 9/11, Stroman lashed out in anger and fear.
He targeted three convenience stores that he thought were owned and operated by Muslim-
Americans.
He went into these stores with guns, seeking retribution.
He shot two men dead.
He shot the third, but the man lived.
Stroman was tried and sentenced to death for murder.
While he sat on death row, the sole survivor of his hate went on a campaign.
The survivor has fought tirelessly to have the state of Texas commute Stroman’s death sentence.
The victim was asked why.
The survivor replied, “My faith compels me to forgive. My God asks me to seek peace and reconciliation.”
The convenience store operator that survived is indeed Muslim.
Many would call Islam a weed growing in the Christian field of America.
And yet, on that news program, I saw that Muslim man bear the fruit of the Kingdom of God.
Is that a scandalous statement?
Yes.
But Jesus told the same story many years ago.
A man was beaten and lying at the side of the road.
And the only one that stopped to help him was a Samaritan.
A Samaritan who didn’t worship in the true house of the Lord in Jerusalem.
A Samaritan who was considered a weed in Israel.
After telling the story, Jesus asked, “Who, then, is your neighbor?”
And we realize that sometimes...sometimes...
The weed that we see might very well be our neighbor.
And that God’s Kingdom sprouts up where we least expect it.
Thanks be to God that the weedy mustard seed belongs in the garden.
And for a Kingdom that just won’t die...no matter how dry the conditions seem. Amen.
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