Saturday, June 28, 2008

I thirst

This week's sermon isn't being written down. It is based, however, on Matthew 10:40-42 and what Mother Theresa says here about satiating Jesus' thirst.

I hope to blog here about some of what I will say tomorrow.

God's Peace y'all... especially in Palestine and Israel.

Saturday, June 14, 2008

Send us Forth

The Fifth Sunday After Pentecost

A sermon based on Exodus 19:2-8a and Matthew 9:35-10:23

In the name of Jesus; amen.

We’ve been singing this song for a few weeks now: “The Lord now sends us forth with hands to serve and give, to make of all the earth a better place to live. The angels are not sent into our world of pain to do what we were meant to do in Jesus’ name; that falls to you and me and all who are made free. Help us, O Lord, we pray, to do your will today.” (Enviado soy de Dios)

It’s a song from Central America written by an anonymous author. Maybe it was a prayer at least it sounds like one when spoken out loud. I’ve been grooving on it though. We sung it a few times at the synod assembly a week ago and I found myself often playing auntie to Pastor K’s baby who was 6 ½ weeks old at the synod assembly. Like many babies he liked being sung to and I found myself humming this tune into his ear every time I had a chance to snuggle with him and hope that I could get him to fall asleep for his mom.

It’s the lullaby I want to sing to you. A lullaby that would make you dream and desire to make the world a better place. It’s liberation theology; theology that teaches that God desires a just world where people are freed from oppression. It is a theology that works through us as we hear the word of God and then go out and do something that realizes God’s purpose and plan.

The readings today speak about God’s purpose for us. In the Gospel Jesus sends out the disciples in order to bring in a harvest of those eager to hear the good news. It’s a purposeful harvest; you don’t just go out and collect wheat and let it sit… you do something with it.

In the psalm we are told to praise God; make a joyful noise and serve the Lord with gladness.

In Exodus God claims the people as a priestly kingdom and a holy nation and the people answer together as one: “Everything that the LORD has spoken we will do.”

And as soon as Moses hands them the law on stone tablets (all that the LORD has asked them to do) they make a golden calf and start worshipping it.

We fall short of doing just what God has asked us to do. We speak quite a few things as one in this congregation: We confess our sins as one; we sing and pray as one, we recite what we believe as one in the creed, we even come to the table as one in order to receive the one body and blood of Jesus, but we fall short when we are sent as one out into the world. It is part of our sinful nature to not always be the priestly people that God calls us to be.

Even the disciples, in the gospel we read today, fall short. After all Jesus says about sending them out – they don’t actually go anywhere. Well, at least not until the end of the Gospel of Matthew, but that is probably because they don’t understand the mission at the point where they are in chapters 9 and 10. Because in this reading, Jesus tells them to not go anywhere among the Gentiles or the Samaritans, only those of the house of Israel. But, at the end of the Gospel he tells them to baptize all nations in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.

Called to be a priestly people to all people the disciples go out and do acts of wonder and miracle in the name of Jesus… called to be a priestly people we are meant to go out and do acts of wonder and miracle in the name of Jesus too.

And there is no excuse for any of us because we are all priests. That’s right; I am not the only one in the room right now. In baptism we were called into what Luther called the priesthood of all believers. Each one of us is called to minister out in the world and here in this place.

We are not meant to go and do our own thing, but to answer God’s call together as one: “Everything that the LORD has spoken we will do” because the angels are not sent to do what we were meant to do in Jesus’ name.

And here’s the thing. It isn’t meant to suck the life out of us or make us feel alone, or that we are carrying the weight of the world on our shoulders. It’s meant to be life-giving and life-enriching and life-affirming because what we do for God is good.

So I am giving you homework this week. I want you all to pray that God will make us one and that God will show us how to do the work of angels in the world. I want you all to pray that God would help us to do his will today and every day to send us out as laborers into his harvest.

Amen.

Sunday, June 08, 2008

Hoping against Hope

The Fourth Sunday After Pentecost

A sermon based on Romans 4:13-25 and Matthew 9-13, 18-26

In the name of Jesus; amen.

Now the Lord said to Abram, ‘Go from your country and your kindred and your father’s house to the land that I will show you. I will make of you a great nation, and I will bless you, and make your name great, so that you will be a blessing. I will bless those who bless you, and the one who curses you I will curse; and in you all the families of the earth shall be blessed.’

So Abram went, as the Lord had told him; and Lot went with him. Abram was seventy-five years old when he departed from Haran. Abram took his wife Sarai and his brother’s son Lot, and all the possessions that they had gathered, and the persons whom they had acquired in Haran; and they set forth to go to the land of Canaan. (Genesis 12:1-5a)

Some 4,000 years ago a family of Semitic nomads left Ur of the Chaldeans, perhaps in southeastern Iraq, and settled in Haran, Turkey, on the Syrian border. In Haran the father Terah died and his son Abram received a divine command to continue his journey: "Leave your country, your people, and your father's household and go to the land I will show you."

It was a leap of faith. Abram left behind a familiar place and packing up his family and all those who he was responsible for set off into an unknown. He left behind the comfort of the familiar and opened his arms up in an embrace of the unknown and strange.

And he did it at 75 years of age! It might be hard for some of you to believe that I am set in my ways, but at 38 I really am not a fan of change. Sure I like new things, but once I get into a habit I’m happy and content with I don’t really see a need to do something else.

For example, these past few days I have been at the New England Synod Assembly in Worcester, MA. For the last 3 years I have gone to the same restaurant for either dinner the first night or lunch the second day and ordered the same exact thing because I like it and I don’t really see a need to try anything else that I might not like. And now that I am used to going to Worcester, MA and I know my way around the convention center and the hotel I found out that we are going to another place next year and I really don’t wanna.

In the book of Hebrews it says: "By faith Abraham, when called to go to a place he would later receive as his inheritance, obeyed and went, even though he did not know where he was going. By faith he made his home in the Promised Land like a stranger in a foreign country" (Hebrews 11:8–9).

There is something counter-intuitive about what Abram/Abraham did. It’s worse than planning a trip to a place you’ve never been and not first looking up directions on Yahoo.com or going to AAA for a map or even knowing if you will have a place to stay when you get there.

But Abram does even more than simply allow God to make his travel plans for him. Abram lets God change his name and listens to and believes a promise that God makes saying: ‘Look towards heaven and count the stars, if you are able to count them.’ Then God said to him, ‘So shall your descendants be.’ 6And Abram believed the Lord; and the Lord reckoned it to him as righteousness.

Abram and his wife Sarai are 70-some years old when they make their move to the land that God promises. They are even older when God promises to make them the parents of un-countable descendants. In fact they are so far beyond the point when they can have children of their own that Paul later writes in his letter to the Romans that when Abraham considered his own body and the barrenness of Sarah’s womb he decided he might as well be dead.

This kind of faith is a journey all its own; a journey into an unknown, impractical, and counter-intuitive land where there is no other road map except hope.

Author and theologian, Daniel B. Clendenin says this of Abraham’s journey: “In his journey into the unknown, Abraham embraced his ignorance. He relinquished control. He chose to trust God's promise to bless him in a new and strange place. But this required a second choice on his part. He had to leave not only his geographic place. He had to leave behind his narrow-minded, small-minded, parochial vision, the tendency in all of us to exclude the strange and the stranger. God gave a staggering promise to this obscure, Semitic nomad: in response to his obedience God would make him the heir of all the world.”

But Abraham isn’t the only one to take a journey like this one. Approximately 2,000 years later a tax-collector named Matthew listened to and followed a man named Jesus on a journey of wonder and resurrection. A woman, outcast from society because of a horrible infirmity, journeyed from a place of illness and ritual impurity to wholeness and reunification with her community because she journeyed in faith with the tips of her fingers. And the grieving father of a dead daughter went on a journey of hoping against hope and once again held his child, alive and smiling in his arms.

We are invited on a similar journey on the nonsensical path of faith where hoping beyond hope is not just our map, but a righteous act. It is not an easy path because it takes us into an unknown world where we risk everything, but where we are reminded that there is nothing that God cannot do if we are willing to trust in the promises made to us.

Indeed God gives life to the dead and calls into existence the things that do not exist all for our sake. This gift of grace given to us is a gift of purpose meant to take us out into the world to experience the wonder of God’s love. It doesn’t always make sense and certainly there are times when belief in God is counter-intuitive. But the gift of grace through faith is meant to justify us and make us right with God.

Abram went off into an unknown world and trusted that God would create new life out of his old life and God did. Matthew dared to follow Jesus and became a disciple. A sick woman believed that she could claim health in the tips of her fingers and a grieving father, hoped that his dead daughter would come to life again.

Imagine what God will do for you. Amen.

Monday, June 02, 2008

A Life-Giving Lesson in Faith

Editor's Note: Without really meaning to I have neglected to post sermons for the last several weeks. This is somewhat due to the fact that the sermons for both Pentecost and Holy Trinity needed to be edited before being published because they contained the names of people in the congregation. All the sermons from the rest of May and this one from June 1 are now available and I hope you have a chance to read them and find meaning in them.


The Third Sunday after Pentecost


A sermon based on Romans 1:16-17; 3:2228 [29-31] and Matthew 7:21-29

In the name of Jesus; amen.

This gospel troubles me. Actually, the gospel of Matthew often has that affect on me. By the end of this liturgical year, which will end the Sunday before Advent begins, I will be grateful to no longer have to preach on it. By the end of Matthew we will hear all about the gnashing of teeth that takes place to those who fall outside the scope of salvation and wind up in the eternal fires of hell.

By the end of this cycle of Matthew we will be thoroughly challenged by the law and commandments that have been given to us by God and reinforced by Christ and I will be relieved.

This text is scary. It should frighten you. It frightens me. I like to think that heaven is an infinitely large place where all are welcome and this text tends to contradict that thought. This gospel does not suggest some universalistic, everybody goes to heaven theology, but rather that Jesus will actually turn people away, telling them literally to “Get out of my face; I don’t know you.”

Those that Jesus recognizes will be those who did the will of his Father. They will get a pass to enter into the kingdom of heaven. But not everybody who acts as though they know Jesus will make it through the pearly gates. There will be some who will say they know Jesus who will not enter.

It’s as if heaven was an exclusive night club and Jesus is a celebrity who gets to decide which of us standing behind the ropes will be let in by the bouncers.

Jesus will point out those cool enough to be let in and the rest will be left out trying to get his attention, “Jesus, Jesus, remember me?”

This text doesn’t just challenge my universalistic tendencies, but also my Lutheran tendencies as well. It’s not enough that I know Jesus; I also have to do stuff too. We believe as Paul writes that a person is justified by faith apart from works prescribed by the law. In other words, we aren’t saved by anything we do. We cannot earn our way into heaven. We can’t do anything that will get us into heaven. Following the law doesn’t get us saved. We are saved by grace alone.

Only God saves us and we trust that God saves us because of the work that Jesus did.

But this reading seems to say that what we do does matter to our salvation.

We live in what most consider a meritorious system; that is a system which operates on merits. We get things because we earn them. Most people work hard to get the things that they need and the things that they want. And we tend to want to punish those who get things by taking them. And we tend to want to despise those who get things just because they are lucky or born into the right family.

So the idea of getting into heaven based upon what we do makes a lot of sense. And actually from a preacher’s perspective it sounds like a helpful tool: want you parishioners to act differently, put more money in the plate, volunteer more hours of their week, come to church more often? Make sure they hear loud and clear that to do otherwise would be against the will of God and would send them to hell for certain.

But here’s the problem: can any of us ever do enough to be certain that we’ve done enough to get into heaven?

Entrance into heaven doesn’t work based on merits, except for the merits that Jesus earned for us. We are saved because Jesus did the work and gave us the credit. This means that even though we cannot do enough we are still welcomed into heaven.

And here is the trick: because we have been saved, not by our own works, but by the work of Jesus, we should do the will of the Father. We shouldn’t follow the law, or what we know God wants from us because we are afraid that we won’t make it into heaven if we don’t. We should follow the law and do what God wants from us because God has given us everything.

There are some people who claim that they know Jesus; they even use Jesus’ name, but they do not follow the will of God by loving God and loving their neighbor. And perhaps we can all agree that there are days and moments that we fall right into that category.

What Jesus wants from us is not to use his name to drive out demons, but to let his name use us to drive out demons: to follow the way of loving God and loving neighbor because God loves us.

What Jesus wants is for us to do more than say we are Christians, but to actually be Christians in the way we live our lives. Not so we will get into heaven, because we can’t ever do enough for that, but because it pleases God who has already made certain that we will go to heaven.

The funny thing is that in doing those things that please God we actually live better lives and help those around us live better lives too.

So take this wonderful gift that we have been given of God’s grace and let yourself be used by it by loving God and loving others. And suddenly you will discover that these words of Jesus aren’t scary, but life-giving.

Amen.
The Second Sunday after Pentecost Year A

A sermon based on Matthew 6:24-34

In the name of Jesus; amen.

Here is a little song I wrote - You might want to sing it note for note - Don't worry be happy - In every life we have some trouble - When you worry you make it double - Don't worry, be happy......

Ain't got no place to lay your head - Somebody came and took your bed - Don't worry, be happy - The land lord say your rent is late - He may have to litigate - Don't worry, be happy

Ain't got no cash, ain't got no style - Ain't got not girl to make you smile - But don't worry be happy - Cause when you worry - Your face will frown - And that will bring everybody down - So don't worry, be happy (now).....

There is this little song I wrote - I hope you learn it note for note - Like good little children - Don't worry, be happy - Listen to what I say - In your life expect some trouble - But when you worry - You make it double - Don't worry, be happy......

In 1988 Bobby McFerrin wrote the song, “Don’t Worry, Be Happy.” You might remember it because McFerrin used his own vocals for all the music; no instruments were used at all.

It was a happy song, with a ridiculous video that costarred comedian Robin Williams dancing around in silly, brightly colored clothes. It was incredibly popular and won several Grammy awards including Song of the Year.

McFerrin was actually inspired to write this song when he saw a postcard with an Indian Holy Man named Meher Baba who coined the phrase.

Today we are asked to be inspired by similar, but different words that we read in our gospel: “Do not worry about your life… can any of you by worrying add a single hour to your span of life? Do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will bring worries of its own. Today’s trouble is enough for today.”

Certainly there are plenty of things to worry about. I’m worried about being able to afford the gas we will need to go on our annual family vacation. But that doesn’t mean that I’m not also worried about being able to afford the gas I need to put into my tank today. And I’m worried that people are going to start to choose to stay home on Sunday mornings rather than come to church in order to save money on gas. And I’m worried about whether or not the church will be able to afford heating costs next winter if no one comes to church this summer.

But I am also worried about all those people who now have to choose between buying food and buying gas in order to get to work.

Of course worrying about the cost of gas isn’t going to bring the price of gas down at all.

Jesus’ words come in the middle of his sermon on the mount shortly after the beatitudes. The people that he spoke to had plenty to worry about as well. The worried about their livelihoods, about their children, about their own health, and about the clothes they would wear and the food they would eat. Their worries weren’t much different from ours. And what Jesus wanted them to hear was that worry would never solve their problems, but that faith would bring them through every situation.

Jesus wanted them to know that God cared deeply for them and would not forget them, would in fact suckle them at his very breast until they were satisfied and quieted.

He knew that worry trivializes the significance of our lives. Isn’t life more than the clothes we wear or the food we eat? Yes! Those things are important to life, but they aren’t life. God is life.

Worry distracts us from eternal pursuits. "Strive first for the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well." We’re taught that getting good things is most important to life; having the right clothes and the right things are supposed to define us. But they don’t. Our beliefs and how we act them out define us.

(3) Worry denies the love of God for us and his providential care for us. If God cares about little birds wouldn’t God care even more about us because we are of more value than birds.

(4) Worry dethrones God in our lives. In the end we are to trust God. Sometimes we can’t help but worry, and God forgives us for that; but ultimately God wants us to trust that we are cared for.

There are a great deal many things we worry about; some things even warrant our worry, but Jesus’ words are for us today just as they were for his disciples so long ago: do not worry about what will happen tomorrow, about whether or not we will have enough, God will provide for us because God cares deeply for us.

As Paul writes in his letter to the Philippians: “Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus" (Philippians 4:7).

Amen.

In God's Image

Holy Trinity Sunday and Confirmation

A sermon based on Genesis 1:1-2:4a and Matthew 28:16-20.

In the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit; Amen.

If there is one story that you: L, G, and I, should hear today it would be the story of creation. I think one of the reasons that it was chosen to be read on Trinity Sunday might be verse 26 when God says, “Let US make humankind in OUR image, according to OUR likeness.”

Some people say that God was referring to the Holy Trinity by speaking in the plural instead of the singular. When God said “us” God meant “Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.” But there are other reasons or options for why God would have used “we”.

The writer of Genesis could have been using what is called the “royal we” when God spoke these words. If you watch movies or read books about kings and queens sometimes you’ll notice that royalty refers to itself in the plural.

It’s also possible that God was talking to the other beings in heaven: the whole heavenly host of angels and archangels and cherubim and seraphim we sometimes hear about.

Yesterday my father called me and asked me if I was done writing my sermon for today. He told me to take it seriously… this was Trinity Sunday – Holy Trinity Sunday and I had to be careful not to be heretical because the salvation of your souls depended upon me delivering an orthodox and theologically correct sermon about the Trinity. If I wasn’t careful, he told me, I might damn you all to hell.

He wasn’t being serious, but the truth of the matter is I was somewhat relieved when we decided to hold confirmation on this day rather than on Pentecost. It gave me a good excuse to ignore the Trinity which always makes me worry that I will be heretical; that is… say something that isn’t true or in line with what the Church tells us is true about the Trinity.

We only talked about the Trinity once in class and some of the questions that you asked were near impossible to answer. “How could God be on earth and in heaven at the same time?” “Did this mean that Jesus prayed to himself?” and “If so, why would he do that?”

The truth is that people smarter than me have a hard time understanding or explaining the Trinity and so they will often give the same answer that I give: some things about our faith are just a mystery.

How the Trinity works is a mystery. How God is three people in one is a mystery. And just who God was referring to by using the plural “us” is a mystery.

Here’s what isn’t a mystery: God made us in God’s image, according to God’s likeness. God made us and when God was done God saw that what was made was good. We were made in the image and likeness of God, which of course means to some people that we look like God or that God looks like us. But in actuality what it really means is that God made us so that we could be in relationship with God.

We were made to be in relationship with God.

L, G, and I … you three were made to be in relationship with God. That relationship began when your parents brought you to the baptismal font and asked that you be drowned in the waters and reborn not just their child, but God’s child.

When they did this they made promises that they would teach you to pray, and encourage in you the study of scripture by giving you a Bible, and that they would teach you the creeds: those things that say what we believe about God, and that they would bring you to the table so that you could be fed by God’s own body and blood.

And then some pastor poured water over your heads in the name of the Trinity: The Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit and you became a child of God.

Today, the church has deemed you old enough to make promises of your own; to say that you will continue in the lives that your parents gave you when they brought you to the waters of baptism.

These promises that you make are promises that you will continue to ask questions and strive to understand what it means to be made in the image and likeness of God. In other words, what it means to be in a relationship with God.

I ask that you honor these promises – God will always be there for you in your lives and so you should be present for God as well. Relationships require commitment and conversation; come to church and continue to pray.

God made you in such a way that you could receive the gift of grace and peace and so that you could share it with others. You were made to care for creation and for all those others who share creation with you.

Today is a gift for you, but it is also a gift for the rest of us because today we remember that we too were baptized and made into children of God. Today we too remember that God gifted us with grace and peace and called us to share our gifts with others.

Today we remember that, despite all the other mysteries of our faith, we know that God made us so that we could be in relationship with God.

Thanks be to God. Amen.

Fire

Pentecost Year A

A Sermon based on Acts 2:1-21

In the name of Jesus; amen.

This past weekend members of our congregation experienced the destructive powers of fire when they suffered the loss of their home from a grease fire that took several other condominiums at Lantern Park.

I had just gotten home from church last Sunday and realized that there was a voice mail on my phone from D telling me what had happened. I called him back and talked to him and A for some time about their ordeal. The fire had burned away just about everything they had with the exception of a pick-up truck worth of things.

I had barely gotten off the phone with them when another fire began burning. My phone started ringing over and over again as other members of this church began to call me, “Pastor, I just read about the M Family in the paper. Are they ok? What do they need? What are we going to do? How can we help them?”

It was a different kind of fire but it burned through quite a few people and by Monday people had offered me, for them, a sofa, love seat, ottoman, television, computer, set of dishes, pots and pans, bedroom furniture, and almost $400 worth of gift cards… and that’s just the list from Monday.

Today N, T, B, and R are going to become members of this congregation and there is something they should know about us. We are a small church, but we burn. Once the flames start it’s near impossible to put them out and this past week is not the first time I’ve seen and experienced the fire in this church. We are a small congregation, but I have seen us engulf a problem and burn it away until all that is left is a clear picture of God’s grace.

This fire will burn you too. At least I hope and pray that it will. This fire is a gift of the Holy Spirit and just like it was given to the disciples that very first Pentecost it has been given to us. The spark was lit in the waters of our baptism, the flames were fed by the food of the holy supper that we have been given, and it burns through us into those around us as we engage in the mission of this church: to Proclaim Christ through worship, fellowship, and caring for our neighbor.

This is a fire that does not destroy but that builds up and creates us into a community, a family. But let me be clear that while we care for the members of this church, for our brothers and sisters in this community we are also to care for and support our brothers and sisters who live outside the walls of this home.

The fire that was ignited in our baptism also united us with all those who are baptized and believe. And when we go to the table of grace we are fed with the same food that feeds our neighbors at Immanuel in Naugatuck and at a Baptist Church in Harlem, a Methodist Church in Iowa, an Episcopal Church in Honduras, a Pentecostal Church in Tanzania, at the Vatican in Rome, and in a little Lutheran church in Palestine. And that same baptismal fire calls us to reach out to others… even those who are not believers, to care for and support them whether they live next door to us or around the world from us.

We do not contain the fire of the Spirit here at Salem Lutheran Church; we are only a part of it with our gifts to share with each other and with the other. As Paul writes “For in the one Spirit we were all baptized into one body.” Together we are the body of Christ and it is the breath of God that flows through us and kindles the fire in our hearts.

Breathe in the fire that burns but does not destroy. Breathe in the fire that brings peace and forgiveness of sins. Breathe in the breath of God, the power of the risen Christ, and the gift of giftedness for the whole world.

Amen.