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SERMON
ARCHIVE January-June, 2005 Click on the sermon you wish to read
Sermons may be printed using the Adobe Acrobat version of the sermon. Click on the "printable format" link. If you do not have Acrobat Reader installed on your computer, click on the icon above and follow the simple directions to download it free from the Adobe web site. The
Fourth Sunday after Pentecost Click here for printable .PDF format Exodus 19:1-8a Jesus saw the crowds, and it was gut-wrenching—for the people were severely wounded and helpless, like sheep without anyone to care for them. Then he said to his disciples, “There is much to be done, but the laborers are few. Pray God to send out laborers into the fields.” Jesus looks out
upon the world today, and it is gut-wrenching. Billions of people and
everywhere the walking wounded, the starving, the ill, the homeless,
the sick, the anxious, the depressed, the tortured, the terrorized,
the victims of war. Jesus looks out upon the world, and it tears at
his gut. Every people of the earth, harassed and helpless, like sheep
without a shepherd, left to the wolves, the mountain lions, and the
coyotes, left to sleet, hail, wind, heat, snow. “So much to be
done,” says Jesus, “but the laborers so few.” Oh yes,
people everywhere calling themselves leaders, fooling others into calling
them leaders – people in government, people in religion, people
in business and industry, but still one child dying of starvation every
three seconds. That’s 20 per minute; 1200 per hour; 28,800 per
day; 201,600 per week; nearly ten-and-a-half million per year —more
than died in the Holocaust, the Shoah—and that’s just the
children who die of starvation. Gut-wrenching. Pray to God to send out
laborers into the field. Leaders of government
living lives insulated from the daily grind of normal human-beings,
never worrying about how much it costs to feed and clothe their families,
never worrying about whether they will be able to afford health insurance
or not. They are doing the important works of war and cannot be bothered
with the wounded and the helpless. Let the poor lift themselves up by
their bootstraps as we and our fathers and mothers did. Jesus looks
upon the world, and his gut wrenches. Pray God to send out laborers
into the field. And leaders of religion,
peddling fear of the neighbor and perpetuating prurient interest in
the sex-lives of others so as not to look at their own lives. African
churches critical of whom an American bishop loves while turning a nearly
blind eye to the rampant physical and sexual abuse of women in their
countries, turning a nearly blind eye to the genital mutilation perpetrated
upon young females throughout their own continent. American churches
fomenting hysteria over sex and the rapture, while remaining deafeningly
silent about the consequences of petroleum-dependent economies gone
mad with greed and consumerism, while generating virtual mountain ranges
of discarded packaging and outdated electronic toys. And prelates in
their costly, flowing garments and pointy little hats more interested
in keeping women off the altar and out of the pulpit than in the number
of babies born throughout the world into the hopeless agony of death
by starvation and/or intractable illness. And the captains
of business and industry. Keeping us fearful of pickpockets and people
with brown skin who speak Spanish so as to distract us from the real
thieves among us—the ones in private jets who get paid the big
bucks for falsifying accounts, bankrupting corporations, and leaving
life-long employees with worthless stock and decimated pensions. And the well-off
people of North America lying upon their couches, remote control in
hand and breathlessly asking what Tom Cruise really things about Oprah,
Brooke, and a ring for Katie; worrying themselves over Brad and Angelina,
and who wore what to the MTV Movie Awards – all of this before
going to the gym to work off all the excess food and drink ceaselessly
shoved down their gullets at the promptings of advertisements that tell
all to buy, spend, eat, drink and be merry, for African mothers are
used to the death of their children. In Holy Baptism,
God has summoned each of us —by name—has anointed each of
us and has proclaimed that we are a priestly people, set apart –
not to set ourselves above others or to judge ourselves better than
others, but to care for all who are in any need, wherever the needy
might be, whoever they might be, high or low – to bind up the broken
hearted, to cure every sort of disease and dis-ease, to cast out the
demons of violence, consumerism, war, greed, and starvation, to hold
the hands of the frightened and the dying, to comfort those whose sadness
is without end, to speak kindness to those who have nowhere to lay their
heads, to teach the children, and to pray for all who ask and for the
millions whose names we will never know. Jesus has summoned
each of you—by name—to go out into the world and to be the
good news. God’s love has been poured into your hearts through
the Holy Spirit that has been given to you. All this you have received
without payment—give without expecting a single thing in return. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. AMEN The Third Sunday
after Pentecost Click here for printable .PDF format Hosea 5:15-6:6 “Do you have to believe that God created the world in 6 days in order to be a Christian?” she asked. “I was told by a friend of mine that I couldn’t both be a Christian and believe the world is billions of years old, that I couldn’t both be a Christian and believe that the big-bang theory or any theories of evolution might be true. I told my friend that I believe we’re justified by grace through faith. She said, ‘yes, that’s true, but faith means believing in the inerrancy of the scriptures.’ I’m confused.” Let’s listen
to some things from this morning’s readings. Consider the woman
who had been suffering from hemorrhages for twelve years. If she had
held to the letter of scripture – had her faith been in an infallible
book – being made unclean by her hemorrhages, she would never have
gone near Jesus in the first place – she would not be out in public,
in a crowd. She certainly would not have been so brazen as to go up
and touch even the garment of a man. She was moved, however, by something
beyond the “rules” – we’ll call it the Holy Spirit
– to trust that this Jesus would bring her wholeness. Jesus does
not turn to this unclean woman (sort of a redundancy in the religious
culture of the day) – and say, “Listen, I’ll make you
well, but you have to believe in creationism first. You have to believe
that Moses really made the Red Sea part. You have to first be born again
of the spirit.” Instead, Jesus says, “Your trust has made
you well.” That’s it. That’s all. We hold that a person is fully righteous in the eyes of God by faith, apart from works of the law. Faith – outrageous trust. Trust – in the promise God makes through Christ. No need to assent to particular doctrines or dogmas. No need to trust in infallible leaders or infallible books. No need to have any religious, spiritual, or emotional experiences or epiphanies. You don’t need to be a member of a particular political party, and you may filibuster or not. You don’t need to vote a certain way, and you don’t need to be pro- or anti- anything. No need for anything – anything – other than trust – trust that in Christ, God comes to pay a friendly visit to sinners. No need for anything other than trust that God in Christ comes to eat and to drink with sinners. No need for anything other than to trust that Christ calls even the most rank of sinners his brothers and sisters, fellow sons and daughters of God. To trust that that is so is all that is necessary to be completely righteous before God. But there’s even more. Because on our own, we’re not able to trust God’s grace and love – maybe because there are so many who want to tell us that we have to do something more – God sends the Holy Spirit, the Holying Spirit – to tell us over and over again the stories of how God loves sinners, adores sinners, laughs and cries and drinks and eats – with the most rank sinners. And to prove it, God pays a call upon you this day and spreads a table before – feeding you with the essence of love – and says – this is for you and for all people – most especially for sinners and outcasts and those who have to take so much crap from those frightened people who find my unconditional grace and mercy a bit too outrageous to bear. But don’t let them trouble you, says Christ. I am the physician, and one way or another, sooner or later, I will receive them and heal them too. The Second Sunday
after Pentecost Click here for printable .PDF format Deuteronomy 11:18-21,
26-28 From Moses: Here are God’s commandments. Bind them upon your hand, and fix them as an emblem on your forehead; teach them to your children; write them on the doorposts of your house and on your gates. If you do them, all will be well—your days and your children’s days will be multiplied, and you will receive blessings upon blessings. But if you don’t do them—a curse upon you. These words of Moses are the conclusion of a particular set of commandments in the previous chapter of Deuteronomy. The commandments are these: love and worship the Lord God, care for the widow and the orphan—those without status; and love the alien within your land—provide food and clothing for those who do not have the rights of citizenship. Interesting. We hear a lot of blather these days from politicians, public pulpiteers, and presidential wanna-be’s that we are a country founded on Judeo-Christian principles. All right, if that’s the case why are women without husbands and their children those most likely in this country to suffer the effects of poverty— namely lack of quality education, of access to health care, of adequate nutrition? And what about undocumented workers—mostly from Mexico and Latin America? If we truly are a country guided by Judeo-Christian principles, why aren’t the fundamentalists and the so-called Religious Right working overtime to rectify a system wherein single women and their children have little hope of climbing up from a nearly permanent underclass status? If the fundamentalists were truly interested in Judeo-Christian principles guiding public policy, they would be enthusiastically supporting President Bush’s efforts to initiate a guest worker program that would be a large first step toward insuring that the non-citizens in our midst might be accorded the rights and responsibilities that are justly due them as human beings. The commandments in Deuteronomy are clear—you must give special care to widows, orphans, and non-citizens from other countries. So, how come no hew and cry from the fundamentalists or the religious right on any of this? Miserable hypocrites. We hear Jesus say in St. Matthew’s gospel this morning—those who are hearing Jesus’ words and are acting upon them are like a builder who builds upon a rock—when the tempests come, the house built on a rock will stand; by contrast, those who hear Jesus’ words but are not acting upon them are like a builder who builds a house on sand, when the tempests come, the house will fall apart. These words come after Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount. There, among other things, we hear that we are to love not only the neighbor, but that we are to love our enemies as well. We also hear that we are not to judge anyone, but are to look to our own lives and what we are or are not doing. Well, that certainly takes all the fun out of bashing the fundamentalists and ragging on the religious-right. Seems I’m planted squarely upon a patch of sand and sinking fast. What’s a person to do? All of us fall short of what God wills for us to do and to be. If we are honest, when we measure ourselves against how Christ says we are to treat the neighbor, the enemy, the fundamentalist, the single mother and her children, and the undocumented worker—we’re all guilty. Seems there is no distinction between the fundamentalists and us. And as far as having no other gods than the Lord God—well I have lots of other gods—my possessions, my looks, my intellect, my personal comfort and security—shoot I could go on all day with the list—and I’ll bet most all of us here could too. If our standing with God is up to us...we’re all sunk, we’ve all built not just on sand—but quicksand at that. But thanks be to God who has assured us in Christ Jesus that our standing with God has nothing to do with what we do or do not do. In God’s eyes we are as Christ—completely righteous, complete innocent, perfectly fulfilling God’s will to love the neighbor, the stranger, the enemy as ourselves. Just trust that it is so, says Paul. Allie, allie in free! Free lunch, for everyone!!—for those who do good and for those that aren’t so good at doing good. No hierarchy in heaven, no boasting. Everybody the same in God’s eyes—perfectly perfect. Why then have commandments? Why care for the single mother and her children, why care for the illegal alien, why pray for our enemies and love them as treasured companions? Easy. Because that’s who we are. In Holy Baptism, our old selfish selves died and our new Christ self arose. And like Christ, we love and care for all people—because that’s who we are. That simple. We do good for the sake of the neighbor and the neighbor’s well-being. We don’t do it for God, for Christ, for our own good; we don’t do good to win people to Christianity—we do good to all for their own sake. Period. That’s what people reborn in the image of Christ do. End of discussion. But we also need to hear God’s commands, God’s law, so that we don’t start to think that on our own we’re any better than anyone else. Our old selves daily get in the way of who we are in God—every day we fail miserably in our calling to love the neighbor—be that neighbor friend or foe. Just by virtue of living in the richest, most powerful country on earth, we are part of a system that seems destined to trample on the poor and the needy. Just by virtue of living in a petroleum dependent culture, we are guilt of trashing God’s good earth. Our houses are stuck in the shifting sand of myriad situations too often beyond our control. We need to hear God’s commands, God’s laws, and we need to acknowledge our own selfish nature in order to realize that none of us is any better than the rest of us—that none of us, left to our own devices is anything but a lousy builder whose house is a total wreck. Repentance is to say: I can’t—on my own I can do nothing but build on sinking sand. But God does not
leave us in sand among the sopping wet ruins. You’re not guilty
in my eyes, says God. You’re perfect. You are as Christ. Like Christ,
you do perfectly trust God, you do perfectly love God, you do perfectly
love the neighbor, you do perfectly love your so-called enemies, you
do perfectly work for justice for those who have less, you do perfectly
feed and clothe the undocumented worker. The remains of your ramshackle
house have been hauled to the land fill and a new one has been built
for you—on solid rock—by the master carpenter—and when
the rain and winds come—as they shall come to all of us—it
shall not fall. The Holy Trinity Click here for printable .PDF format Genesis 1:1-2:4a We begin this day
in the strong name of the Trinity: For almost two thousand years invocations of the Trinity, like this one have been the morning prayer of Celtic Christians in Ireland and the Western Isles of Scotland. Echoing the words of the much longer prayer of St. Patrick, This invocation is a daily reminder that we belong to God, And that our Three-in-one God goes with us…Within, before, behind, beside us—in earth’s mysteries of wind, water, sun and moon. In each person we meet, shielding us all the day long to protect and keep us. In the first reading this morning, we heard our most ancient hymn of belonging—from Genesis. And the familiar words of our story once again reminded us that we are bound to our creator from the beginning. And in our beginning we heard that all was a formless void—The Hebrew words are tohu vabohu—topsy-turvey. Tohu, without form—no shape; and bohu, empty—unpopulated. What it really means is that everything was a mess! Nothing formed—all darkness, no light, no seas, no earth. Everything was mixed up, a swirling chaos. And in that empty darkness we feel the wind, that spirit, breathing order out of the confusion. And our grandmother/grandfather-God SPOKE—And with a word, tamed the chaos and ordered a world out of toho vabohu. And God breathed a word which separated the light from the darkness—day from night. And on the second day, God spirited forth a sky to separate the water below from the water above. And on the third day, God spoke forth the earth and its vegetation—bursting forth in beautiful good abundance. And the breath of God SAID: the Lights—sun and moon, and time and seasons. And God worded forth the Creatures in the waters and in the sky. And God’s breath spoke the animals of the earth into existence—and us—in God’s own image. (sigh) And then, God rested. And so do we here today—Come to this place, to rest, to offer up the chaos, the tohu vabohou of our lives in a moment of remembering who we are. And in today’s
gospel the writer of Matthew brings us to a mountaintop, to a place
where the earth is still separated from the sky, but here only thinly….Brings
us to stand in this space between earth and heaven, between the human
and the holy, between Holy Week and the risen Lord. And the women carried those creating words from the living, breathing Jesus—And the women’s words bring the 11 to this mountaintop. It is the women who are leading them up the mountain, showing the way to the risen Lord, Bearers of God’s creating breath…the women with the eleven as they have been, all along, as Matthew has told us—from Galilee, from the beginning. And to this thin place which barely separates earth from heaven Jesus comes to them—and they worship him. But they doubt. Worship AND doubt; this is what they bring to Jesus. In those last few days ALL their lives were turned topsy-turvey. Shouts of hosanna had turned to crucifixion, palm branches became clubs and swords, dreams of the kingdom turned to terror— as the disciples panicked, lost sight of their future, denied who they were. Their lives swirling in chaos—all tohu vabohu. But Jesus’ word, carried by the women, sends them trudging up the mountain, bearing their heavy loads of sorrow, disappointment, fear, guilt—their leader gone, their movement in disarray, hiding out, no direction, no future, their lives in chaos—And when they meet Jesus he doesn’t say, “Where were you? Why did you run? How could you have been such cowards?” Instead, Jesus sees what they have brought—their worship and their doubt. And Jesus looks on them with compassion. For he is the one who had said, Put your sword back. And Matthew offers us no proof—no fish for Jesus to eat, no closed doors to walk through….no wounds to touch. Jesus simply speaks—A living, breathing Word. And Jesus does not “fix” their doubt, but in their doubt, Jesus-God-the-son simply says—GO. To this remnant –with their heavy load of doubt and confusion, this much-beloved- son-God once again breathes a WORD that speaks order out of the chaos. And Jesus SAYS—GO…make disciples. And this is a familiar word. The resurrection may be a mystery, but they know disciples. they have traveled with him in his way of discipleship, GOing out—among the people, GOing out—listening, healing, feeding, casting out demons, lifting up, giving hope, collecting the only the most disreputable, ragtag people, all nations and peoples, baptizing them. And this is how we become part of the story. For we are those baptized nations and peoples. We are the descendants of these eleven and those good-news-bearing women. We are the proof that they did indeed—GO with their heavy load of doubt –and lives all tohu vabohu. And on this mountaintop WE ALSO find Christ—Alive. And Jesus, the living, breathing Word, continues to speak, now to US…..And we, too, have lugged our load to the top of the mountain—the tohu vabohu of our lives. We carry this morning’s
news reports of how many people were killed in Iraq today. We bring
the picture from The Lutheran magazine of the 24-foot-high wall being
built in Bethlehem, right down the middle of the road into the old city.
We bring our despair over debates in our church concerning ofdination
of gay glergy. Our load is heavy with the latest layoffs, pension defaults
and filibuster battles. We bring our voicemail and email-boxes overflowing
with unanswered messages. Jesus says—GO—be my disciples. Carry YOUR fear and doubt into the chaos of the world—listen, heal, feed, cast out demons, speak hope. Offer your food to the family in our community room on Mondays. GO—be my discipleS. Answer the doorbell and listen to the man asking for help from our Local Assistance funds. He says, “I lost my job and I’ve been sleeping under a bridge for the last few weeks. And one morning I found an itchy red, bump on my leg. I didn’t think much about it, but it got larger and redder. I didn’t have a doctor and by the time I went to Denver Health. The recluse spider bite was badly infected, and the doctors said amputation or fusion. So now I’m in this wheelchair ….Hard to sleep under the bridge now. I need a bus ticket to Illinois. My aunt and uncle have offered to take me in while I recuperate. And Jesus says—GO—be my disciples. Listen to a friend who has just learned she has breast cancer. Or a friend whose partner has left him. Cast out demons of despair and hopelessness with bags of food for MetroCareRing. GO—be my disciples.
Write hope on your emails to legislators asking for restoration of health
services for the poorest in our state. Feed hungry people with your
offerings to World Hunger. I am with you always—Emmanuel. As I feed and nourish you with my body broken and my blood poured out, all the days, day by day by day, day in and day out—to the completion of the age. Sixth Sunday
in Easter Acts 17:22-31 Click here for printable .PDF format It sure is great
to be back in Denver after hanging out on the beaches of O’ahu
for the past couple of weeks —public life in Hawai’i wasn’t
nearly as interesting as it is here in Colorado. There was no one in
Hawai’i telling their U.S. Senator that he had betrayed his Christian
faith—likewise, no U.S. Senators there returning the compliment
by calling his accusers the anti-Christ. No group on Waikiki Beach quite
like Focus on the Family – the Colorado Springs ministry perhaps
best-known for its strident anti-gay stances. No members of Soul Force—a
pro-gay, faith-based ministry— gathering to vilify Focus on the
Family, accusing them of spiritual violence. And no members of the Rev.
Fred Phelps’ Westboro Baptist Church also picketing Focus on the
Family because it isn’t anti-gay enough. Yes, the Christians are
at it again. Who needs lions? We’ve got each other. Returning to
Colorado I know what it must be like to be a parent coming home from
vacation to a bunch of squabbling, scrapping kids. You just want to
scream, knock their heads together, and send to them all to their separate
rooms. Can’t I ever leave you kids alone? I go away and you’re
fighting with each other; the minute I leave, you’re at each other’s
throats. What’s a parent to do? If you love me, says Jesus, you will hold dear my teaching, you will hold dear my commandments, the commandments I received from God in heaven. In St. John’s Gospel we hear these commandments acted out in the narrative of the Passion. Jesus puts aside all power and all privilege and takes on the role of the lowliest of the lowly and performs a menial and degrading task – he takes the role customarily demanded of a female slave—and washes the feet, not of deserving disciples, but of the pathetic, flawed, inadequate disciples who will deny and abandon him—and he commands them to do likewise. Empty yourself of every claim to superiority—moral, ethical, spiritual, social, educational, occupational—you name it—lay it all aside and make yourself lower than the lowliest—and them serve. Without qualifications. Without reservations. No ifs, ands, or buts. And love, says Christ, as I love—without judgment, without striking back, sacrificing yourself so that others may go free—and not the deserving others—but the undeserving others who will fail you, desert you and deny you. Love your enemies and forgive them – even if that means death—of the body —or perhaps worse—of the ego. Do not call each other evil—do not squabble about who has true faith. Do not condemn one another, says Jesus, for I have come into the world, not to condemn the world—but that you might know the God whose love for the world is infinite. Love all, serve all—especially those who wish you evil. Yes, love Fred Phelps and his followers, even—or perhaps especially—when their pickets call death and destruction upon us, our friends, our families, our beloved brothers and sisters in the faith. Yes, love and serve any and all who impugn our faith, who say we are not Christian, who say we are anti-Christ. Love and serve James Dobson and Focus on the Family—pray for them with genuine care. And this one is especially hard for me because I have tangled with him and his followers—I am to love Mel White and the members of Soul Force who have vehemently criticized me for the positions I have taken. Christ commands I love them, serve them, pray for them, forgive them—genuinely, selflessly—letting my pride and ego be put to death upon the cross. Each and every one of us—hearing Christ’s command that if we love him we are to hold dear his way of the cross—all of us must call to mind those who despise us and those whom we despise—and then we are to go the next step—we are to act toward these dear children of God in self-emptying love—to really act out that love—not just imagine what it would be like and then go about our merry way, business as usual. Ouch. I don’t know about you—but I am brought up short by all of this. I can’t do that stuff—hell, I don’t even act with complete love toward those who love me, toward those whom I say I love. Frankly, it’s probably much more gratifying for most of us to see how cleverly nasty we can be to those who are nasty to us—how much more we can dish back to those who dish against us—how much we can give others this day their daily come-uppance. Yes, Jesus, we say we love you—but in terms of holding dear your commandments, holding dear your teaching...we are seemingly powerless against our worst selves, powerless against the way things work, powerless against the sin that is bred in our bones. Little children —I will not leave you orphans—I send another—I do continually send another—the Advocate, the Comforter, the Spirit of Love Divine—and it is that Spirit, my sisters and brothers, who frees you this day from all that is past. The ways you have thought and acted in the past no longer have power over you. All is forgiven, the old self-absorbed, self-justifying, turned-in-on-self self is dead, and the new Christ-self lives —within you—within each and every one of you. God sees each and every one of you perfectly fulfilling the way of Christ. And to that end the Advocate, Comforter Spirit makes Christ truly present here in the Holy Eucharist—and taking Christ into your body this day, you shall become—in spite of the powers of this earth —more and more who you already are by Baptism. Each day, returning to the promise of Holy Baptism, you shall die to your past and each day you shall rise in this promise: namely, that you already are and yet shall become the body of Christ in and for the world—pouring out your life’s blood even for the sake of those who betray, despise, and desert you—judging no one, forgiving everyone. Thus it is this day and thus it shall be every day until that day when the Advocate, the Comforter, the Holy Spirit has finished God’s work within you and you are brought forever home—God’s perfect new creation. The Festival of
the Resurrection Click
here for printable .PDF format Acts 10:34-43 The angel said to the women, “He has been raised from the dead, and indeed he is going ahead of you to Galilee; there you will see him.” Gaililee. Why of all places would Jesus go there to show his resurrected self? Galilee—shorthand for Galil ha’goyim—Region of the Heathens. Galilee, once the northern part of the Kingdom of Israel, but now a broken and conquered territory. Conquered and colonized first by the Assyrians, then in successive waves by Babylonians, Persians, Macedonians, Egyptians, and Syrians. By the time of Jesus, the original people of Israel were very few in number, and many, if not most of them, were intermarried with godless heathens of one sort or another. Anyone claiming to be a true Hebrew was likely a half-breed at best, and it was an area much looked down upon by the keepers of religion in Jerusalem—the people of Galilee had intermingled the Hebrew traditions with so many other cultic practices that nothing even resembling decent religion could be found there. Why would the risen Christ wish to make himself known in such a god-forsaken place as Galilee? And why would Jesus ever desire to show himself to his cowardly disciples, the very disciples who had only three days earlier denied and deserted them? Red Lake, Minnesota.
Arguably the poorest Indian reservation in the United States, and the
Red Lake Indian Nation, a conquered people—a people no one really
gives a damn about. A people seemingly cursed—ringed ‘round
by poverty, drunkenness, depression, suicide, fetal-alcohol syndrome,
and drug addiction. Red Lake Indian Reservation—a place and a people
as different from Jefferson County and Columbine High School as anyone
could ever imagine—except for what happened there on Monday of
this Holy Week. What happened Monday at Red Lake ranks second behind
the Columbine High School massacre as the worst school shooting in the
nation’s history. At Columbine, two shooters, Dylan Klebold and
Erik Harris, killed 13 people before they killed themselves. At Red
Lake, one shooter, Jeff Weise, killed 9 people before turning his gun
on himself. Joe Garner writes in yesterday’s Rocky Mountain News:
“The Columbine killers were reviled in Jefferson County, and trees
that had been planted days after the killings as a sign of forgiveness
and remembrance of the young killers were chopped down. But in Red Lake,
Weise is remembered among the victims of the tragedy he caused. His
name is written large on a sign near the names of students he killed,
10 red candles placed at the bottom of a section of fence.” Ten
yellow roses at a memorial. And Chongai’la Morris, a survivor of
the shooting says, “’I forgive him for what he did.’” And the angel said,
“He has been raised from the dead, and indeed he is going ahead
of you to Galilee; there you will see him.” There, at Red Lake,
there in the forgiveness of a grave and tragic sin, there in that seemingly
godforsaken place—there stands the Risen Christ. There and here—this
day—amongst us sinners—amongst us and all sinners who will
never, ever by our own thoughts and deeds come within a thousand miles
of righteousness—there and here amongst us sinners who by our thoughts
and deeds make of our worlds a Galilee, a Region of the Heathens—Galilee,
and the Red Lake Indian Reservation, and here and anywhere and anytime
forgiveness rises radical, unconditional, untamed, untrammeled, overflowing,
and free—here and here the Risen Christ appears, glorious in his
cosmic victory over death. And so beloved people
of God, very truly I tell you, the Risen, glorious, victorious Christ
is here today—in the one baptism for the forgiveness of sins, and
in the Eucharist, the Risen Christ’s true body and blood—given
and shed—for you, for each and every single one of you—and
for all people, and yes, for Jeff Weise, Dylan Klebold, Erik Harris—for
the radical, unconditional, untamed, overflowing and free forgiveness
of all your sin, past, present, future, and forever. And the angel said: “He has been raised from the dead, and indeed he is going ahead of you to Galilee: there you will see him. This is my message for you.” Fourth Sunday
in Lent Click here for printable .PDF format 1 Samuel 16:1-13 To see or not to see; that is the question. Teacher, who sinned,
this man or his parents, that he was born blind? Who sinned, teacher,
that so many perished in the tsunami the day after Christmas? One nation
under God, no tsunami here. In God we trust,
therefore, rich beyond all counting. God has been good to us...white
males. You know what they
say, an eye for an eye; a tooth for a tooth...AIDS: God’s judgment
upon homosexuals... Africans and infants too I guess. Well, the sins
of the parents you know. “Neither,”
Jesus said. “I have come into the world not to condemn the world.
I do not judge anyone—not even those who hear my words but do not
keep them—for I came into the world not to judge the world, but
to love the world. You judge according to human standards; I judge no
one. God does not see as mortals see. I have come into the world to
bring about a crisis so that those who do not see, may see; that those
who are lost may be found; and that those who are sure they see may
become blind—that those who are sure they know their own way may
become lost. When you say, Oh, but we see just fine—it’s those
other people...then your sin remains.” Many of them were
saying of Jesus, “He has a demon, and is out of his mind.” Jesus said, “Whoever
has seen me has seen God...The words I say to you I do not speak on
my own...Trust me—I am in the Father and the Father is in me. Whoever
sees me sees the one who sent me.” We have a law, and
according to that law, he must die—for he says he is the Son of
God. It is not for doing a good work on the Sabbath that we seek to
kill him, but that he has made himself equal to God. Though we suppose
that would be OK...if he behaved like we want God to behave. You know,
smash our enemies to smithereens, wreak vengeance upon the earth (but
not upon our part of it). Bless us, the chosen ones, but forget listening
to the prayers of the Jews, the Muslims, certain Episcopalian bishops,
women priests, and other godless types. And send a hurricane upon Florida
because Disney World hosts Gay Pride events. Then it would be OK for
him to say he is from God. But he says he comes not to condemn. He says
he judges no one, so obviously he cannot be from God. We have a law
and according to that law he must die. “And I, when
I am lifted up, will draw all people to myself.” Jesus said this
to indicate the kind of death he was to die. Scripture says, curséd
is the one who hangs upon a tree. “Father,” says Jesus, “the
hour has come: Glorify your Son. For this death upon the tree I was
born and for this death upon the tree I came into the world.” This
is God’s glory: God dying upon the tree rather than God acting
in vengeance, judgment, condemnation. So they took Jesus;
and carrying the cross by himself, he went out to what is called The
Place of the Skull, which in Aramaic is called Golgotha. There they
crucified him. And standing near the cross was his mother, Mary. “I
and the Father are one. Whoever sees me sees the Father. Father, forgive
them.” The Lord does not see as mortals see. Then he gave up
his spirit and died. Curséd is the one who hangs upon the tree.
Teacher, who sinned?
This one or this one’s parents? First Sunday in
Lent Genesis 2:15-17;
3:1-7 Click here for printable .PDF format Two temptations—one in a lush tropical garden, the other in the barren desert. The first temptation, willingly and willfully embraced; the second temptation faithfully and trustingly rebuffed. Two temptation stories, both of them narratives that hit at the very essence of human sin—and neither of them have one whit to say about sex in any way, shape, manner, or form. Imagine that. Given the current state of affairs in much of the church you’d think that sex and sin were nearly synonymous. What’s more, given the current debates you could quite easily think that if you just conform to a particular set of culturally prescribed sexual behaviors, you are indeed far along on the path of righteousness and salvation. Of course, there are those inner thoughts and deeply denied urges, but that’s the stuff of a good confession—after all if we say we have no sin we deceive ourselves and the truth is not in us. In all seriousness, our preoccupation with sex as sin trivializes sin and helps us to ignore the much more weighty aspects of our human condition. In our first scripture
portion this morning we hear—albeit in highly mythic language—we
hear what the early Hebrews considered to be the origin and essence
of sin—our desire to be like God. “God doesn’t want you
to eat the forbidden fruit,” says the tempter, “because when
you do you will be like God.” The essence of sin in this story
is nothing other than our human desire to be number one, our yearning
for immortal power—our yearning to be the one who is right—to
be the richest, the best-looking, the strongest, the smartest, the one
with absolute control—you name it. Go larger—look
at the struggles for power, domination, control in a group of three
or more. Take two parents, add a child—and let the games begin.
From the beginning of consciousness, the child works overtime at trying
to control her parents; there are few parents, who if honest, don’t
have a story or two about the powerful tyrannies of two-year-olds. Now
add another sibling and watch as everyone in the family strives for
control of everyone else; the possibilities are nearly endless. In this morning’s
Gospel, we hear about the temptation of Christ. In Matthew’s telling
of the Christ story we have just heard that after Jesus rises from the
waters of baptism a voice from heaven says, “This is my Son, the
Beloved, with whom I am well pleased.” Apparently the great tempter
hears this proclamation too and so when Jesus goes into the desert,
the tempter follows. “Since you are the Son of God you presumably
have divine powers—use them. Do some magic. Interfere with the
natural order—show you are the king of creation. Turn stones into
bread.” Jesus will not; rather Jesus remains a down-to-earth creature,
wholly, totally trusting in God to provide sustenance—even when
there is absolutely no evidence that any food will ever be forthcoming.
“OK,” says the tempter, “since you’re into this
trusting God thing, throw yourself off the roof of the temple—after
all Scripture says that God will save you—if God really loves you,
God will send the angels to protect you.” Again, the tempter is
rebuffed. Again Jesus remains a down-to-earth creature. Jesus tells
the tempter that putting God to the test is nothing more than a not-so-subtle
attempt to control God, to turn God into one’s personal body guard.
Lastly, the great tempter tells Jesus that Jesus can have power over
the whole earth if only Jesus does one thing: turn over his trust and
loyalty to the devil. Or put another way—if Jesus will take on
the vaunting ambitions of the rest of humanity—if Jesus will take
control of the situation and make himself number one—with his godlike
powers, he can rule the whole world forever. Such a deal. But Jesus
will have none of it. He remains steadfastly, trustingly—a down-to-earth
creature, fulfilling God’s original intent for humanity - to give
good care to the garden—the earth—to care for the other—to
be centered upon the neighbor—and to enjoy the good creation. A
simple plan. Lent is a season
centered upon repentance and repentance is nothing more nor less than
turning from one way of thinking to another way of thinking—repentance
is, literally, a change of mind. St. Paul in this morning’s second
scripture portion puts two ways of thinking before us: on the one hand,
the way of fallen humanity—as exhibited in the story of Adam and
Eve—on the other hand, the way of obedient humanity—as exhibited
by the Christ. Throughout his writing Paul cautions, however, that on
our own, we cannot simply change our minds, change our way of being.
That thing called sin, that thing called self-centeredness, that thing
called “we want to be number one” is too powerful. Trying
to change on our own just sets us up for the noxious hobby of moral
striving - one of the more tried and true ways to set ourselves up as
superior to the neighbor. The change of mind that is called for here
is one of surrender. Instead of saying, “I can by my own reason
and strength be obedient,” we can only say, “I can't”
I cannot by my own reason or strength trust God. I cannot by my own
reason or strength be a down-to-earth creature. I cannot by my own reason
or strength delight in caring for the creation, delight in caring for
my neighbor, delight in enjoying what God
gives me. I cannot, and you
need not. In the Christ event, the very nature of the universe was changed—in
time, for all time—in Christ the nature of your being was cataclysmically
overturned. In God’s time-outside-of-time each and everyone of
you became dead to that thing called sin. In God’s time, each and
every single one of you has already become a new, trusting, obedient
self in Christ. You need not strive to be like Christ because you are
already like Christ—by the proclamation and promise of God. In
the mind of God, all of you are already trusting, down-to-earth creatures,
all of you content to give good care to the earth, to give good care
to the neighbor—all of you content to enjoy for a time the great,
good gifts of God’s wondrous creation. Repentance, therefore, is
not about putting on a long, sad face. Repentance is to shout for joy—for
everything is already accomplished and all of you are already God’s
new creation in Christ. It really is just that simple. Click here for printable .PDF file Isaiah 9: 1-4 I had the great good fortune of growing up on the north shore of Lake Superior. Those of you who have been to the shores of Lake Superior know what an awesome body of water it is – that it's nothing less than a great, inland ocean. Its beauty is staggering, dramatic, beyond an easy description. Its dangers are also staggering, dramatic, beyond an easy description. Lake Superior's waters can change from calm and serene to violent and deadly in the course of a few short minutes. Sky-blue and mirror calm waters can become dark gray and mountainous in a heart-beat, terrifying even the most seasoned of fishers and sailors. Just as terrifying, even when the seas are placid, is Lake Superior's deadly cold. Those who somehow find themselves thrown into these icy waters have less than a half-hour before bone shattering chill renders them unable to tread water, unable even to breathe. Even on a hot summer's day, those who are not quickly fished out the lake's deadly cold face certain death. For those of us who have ever lived or worked or played on Lake Superior, the women and men of the United States' and Canadian Coast Guards are among our greatest heroes. Day in and day out they risk their lives for those in peril upon this great inland sea. Whether the lake be calm or the waves be ten, twenty, thirty feet or more these brave souls venture forth to fish people from the waters that threaten. The women and men of the Coast Guard are fishers of people and are ready to give their own lives for the lives of others. In this morning's Gospel, Jesus summons the disciples, summons the church, summons us to be fishers of people, not unlike the women and men of the Coast Guard. We are summoned by the Lord of sea and sky to venture forth upon life's waters to protect and to serve all who live, work, and play upon the sea of life. Whether the waters be stormy or calm, the Christ of God has called us, the church, to leave the safety of the shore and to launch our boats upon the unpredictable oceans of existence, with trust in God's love our only guide, our only light. We are not called upon to calm the waters – there is only one who can do that; we are called upon, however, to be ready to die upon those waters, trusting that the darkness and cold of death will not have the last word. Last week, we on the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America Task Force on Human Sexuality reported on our three years of work and made recommendations to the church regarding the blessing of same-sex unions and the ordination, commissioning, and rostering of persons in committed, faithful same-sex unions. The report recommended a great deal less than full inclusion, and its recommendations are disappointing to many, disappointing especially to those who are engaged in ministry with and to faithful gay, lesbian, bisexual, and transgender Christians. Sad to say, we on the Task Force quickly discovered that many, if not most, aspects of human sexuality are for many people a dark, threatening, and uncharted sea – and rather than sailing forth upon that sea in faith, much of the church would rather confine themselves to the relative safety of the shore. Even though far too many people have been cast adrift upon dark and stormy waters – often by the church itself – much of the church is unwilling to go fishing for or with gay, lesbian, bisexual, or transgender people. Yes, there are places in the church, such as this community of St. Paul, where people have, in faith, set out upon uncharted seas – welcoming all people without regard to sexual orientation or gender identity into the fullness of the church. But these places are still relatively rare – and much of the church would rather not be in the same fleet, let alone the same boat, with these communities. It would be easy for us at St. Paul, from our vantage point, to look back in judgment at those who seem to be as yet clinging to the safety of the shore. I am as guilty as anyone of standing up in the boat and calling back – "Oh ye of little faith!" That, however, is most emphatically not what we have been summoned to. We have been summoned to be fishers after people – not blamers or judges of people. And perhaps we have our geography a bit mixed up. Perhaps it is a trick of the light that those who are fearful of change only appear to be clinging to the safety of the shore. Perhaps they have after all set their boats upon the waters but have been overcome by wind and storm and are themselves struggling to keep their heads above water, struggling against the cold and dark. Those of us who are gay, lesbian, transgender, bi-sexual; those who love us; and those who minister with us know all too well how perilous the seas can be. And knowing that, we are all the better equipped to reach out in love to those who struggle. No matter how discouraged we may be by sailing into the wind, by constantly rowing against the tide, we are called to trust in the one who is ruler over wind and sea and to keep on going, to keep on fishing for those threatened by dark waves and strange water. And we are called to do so without counting the cost to ourselves – for when Christ calls us, Christ bids us come and to die. Only God knows what the Task Force's report and recommendations will lead to. That is up to the voting members of the Church Wide Assembly this coming August. In the meantime, our tasks are clear. We shall confess our own words and deeds of judgement; we shall confess our own tendencies toward moral, ethical, and theological superiority; we shall confess our own tendencies toward self-righteousness and self-justification. And we shall daily confess that we have not fully loved our neighbor as ourselves – especially those neighbor whom we think are against us. And then we shall set out once more upon the rough and stormy seas for God in Christ calls us to be fishers of all people, to be lovers of all people, to be forgivers of all people. God calls us, Christ's fishers of people, to ventures of which we cannot see the ending, by seas as yet uncharted, through perils unknown. And God's Holy Spirit will give us faith to go out with good courage, not knowing where we go, but only that God's hand is leading us, God's love supporting us. AMEN
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