All Saints Sunday Year A 2008
A sermon based on Matthew 5:1-12.
In the name of Jesus; amen.
Four years ago I preached on this text shortly after coming here to Salem. Truth is that I never liked preaching on the beatitudes, but I had a great idea. I found pieces of a script from the Monty Python Movie, the Life of Brian and read it to you.
In perfect sacrilegious Monty Python fashion, The Life of Brian is about a man whose life parallels Jesus. He’s born in the stable next door to Jesus, winds up at the same major events as Jesus, and is even crucified along side of him. In one scene Jesus climbs up onto the mountain and begins preaching what we now call the beatitudes, but the people in the back have a hard time hearing him and the message gets lost as they hear it.
“Blessed are the peacemakers.” Jesus says, but the folks at the back hear something else entirely. What they hear is: “Blessed are the cheese makers.”
After church, once I had greeted everyone at the door, I was making my way down the aisle to check on the Parish Life committee who had gathered in a pew to discuss plans for my installation.
They had two questions for me. The first was: who did I want to ask to pour the coffee? I remember saying, “I don’t know.” It took awhile for me to understand that pouring the coffee was a big deal. “Pastor, it’s considered an honor” I was told by one member of the committee, “maybe your mom would want to do it.”
Well, I was sure my mom wouldn’t want to do it, but in the end I asked my dad who was indeed honored.
The second question they wanted answered was what did I want written on my cake? Again I answered, “I don’t know” then irreverently added, “Blessed are the cheese makers.”
And sure enough, on the day of my installation as your pastor there was a cake with the words, “Blessed are the cheese makers.”
The point of that sermon 4 years ago was that we often mishear the words that Jesus says in this gospel. We read it as a directive or as a pie-in-the-sky-when-you-die text. Jesus’ sermon that day was meant to be gospel for those who were suffering and struggling. It was a sermon for those who endure the harsh realities of discipleship and wonder if it will ever get any better or if it will really be worth it in the end.
The point of this sermon today is a little different.
The point of the sermon today is, “Blessed are the cheese makers.”
My friends, you are cheese makers and you are blessed.
Let’s get the obvious pun out of the way first. I have spent a lot of time laughing here at Salem. Often times the laughter has come from cheesy jokes; some of you have even been brave enough to tell me some off-color jokes. Some of the laughter has come from irony and some has been the kind of laugh one makes when the only other alternative is tears. But we have laughed together.
Laughter is a blessing in and of itself. God laughs with us when we share joy with one another and when that feeling of joy erupts from our bellies out through our mouths.
And to prove the wonder of just how God made us research has shown health benefits of laughter ranging from strengthening the immune system to reducing food cravings to increasing one's threshold for pain.
Blessed are the cheese makers.
There is perhaps another obvious pun and that is that we have done a lot of eating while I’ve been here. We haven’t always had cheese at every meal, but we have eaten some wonderful food. From pancake breakfasts to Italian night dinners we have had pot lucks and bread and soup. Each meal is a blessing. Every coffee hour and sheet cake has connected us because families eat together.
Jesus fed thousands with five loaves and two fish and then every Sunday he has invited us to eat his very own body and blood. When the disciples encountered the resurrected Christ on the road to Emmaus they ate together. Each time the altar has been set, the good china taken out, the pancake mix poured onto the grill, or a box of Dunkin Donuts Munchkins has been put out for coffee hour Jesus has blessed that meal and that time.
Blessed are the cheese makers.
The abundance of food produced in this place has never been limited for our own consumption. 150 cans of green beans, countless Stop and Shop Cards bought with money from the Fund for the Needy, strawberries cut for the festival at the Lutheran Home, cookies for Glendale residents and shut-ins, and so much more has been collected in this place and sent out to feed others.
Together we have been a blessing to those who hunger and thirst, not just for righteousness, but for sustenance.
Blessed are the cheese makers for they shall know the joy of laughter and food; laughter shared with God and food eaten at Jesus’ own table.
Blessed are you, my brothers and sisters who have been food for me these four years. Even in lean times I have been fed here. Blessed are you, cheese makers because you have become a blessing.
I have tried as often as I can to remind you in my sermons that God loves you; loves you so much that through baptism you became children of God who share in Christ’s resurrection and glory.
But God doesn’t love you because you are cheese makers. It’s God’s desire that you make cheese; that you share laughter and love, food and fellowship, but it is not the reason why God loves you.
God loves you because God is our maker. God sculpted and crafted us, called us beloved, adopted us through baptism, and recreated us as saints. God loves us because we are God’s.
God will forget our sin, but God does not forget to love us.
Remember that; see it when you look at yourself in the mirror and when you look into the face of another. Remember that God loves you and keep making cheese.
Amen.
A sermon based on Matthew 5:1-12.
In the name of Jesus; amen.
Four years ago I preached on this text shortly after coming here to Salem. Truth is that I never liked preaching on the beatitudes, but I had a great idea. I found pieces of a script from the Monty Python Movie, the Life of Brian and read it to you.
In perfect sacrilegious Monty Python fashion, The Life of Brian is about a man whose life parallels Jesus. He’s born in the stable next door to Jesus, winds up at the same major events as Jesus, and is even crucified along side of him. In one scene Jesus climbs up onto the mountain and begins preaching what we now call the beatitudes, but the people in the back have a hard time hearing him and the message gets lost as they hear it.
“Blessed are the peacemakers.” Jesus says, but the folks at the back hear something else entirely. What they hear is: “Blessed are the cheese makers.”
After church, once I had greeted everyone at the door, I was making my way down the aisle to check on the Parish Life committee who had gathered in a pew to discuss plans for my installation.
They had two questions for me. The first was: who did I want to ask to pour the coffee? I remember saying, “I don’t know.” It took awhile for me to understand that pouring the coffee was a big deal. “Pastor, it’s considered an honor” I was told by one member of the committee, “maybe your mom would want to do it.”
Well, I was sure my mom wouldn’t want to do it, but in the end I asked my dad who was indeed honored.
The second question they wanted answered was what did I want written on my cake? Again I answered, “I don’t know” then irreverently added, “Blessed are the cheese makers.”
And sure enough, on the day of my installation as your pastor there was a cake with the words, “Blessed are the cheese makers.”
The point of that sermon 4 years ago was that we often mishear the words that Jesus says in this gospel. We read it as a directive or as a pie-in-the-sky-when-you-die text. Jesus’ sermon that day was meant to be gospel for those who were suffering and struggling. It was a sermon for those who endure the harsh realities of discipleship and wonder if it will ever get any better or if it will really be worth it in the end.
The point of this sermon today is a little different.
The point of the sermon today is, “Blessed are the cheese makers.”
My friends, you are cheese makers and you are blessed.
Let’s get the obvious pun out of the way first. I have spent a lot of time laughing here at Salem. Often times the laughter has come from cheesy jokes; some of you have even been brave enough to tell me some off-color jokes. Some of the laughter has come from irony and some has been the kind of laugh one makes when the only other alternative is tears. But we have laughed together.
Laughter is a blessing in and of itself. God laughs with us when we share joy with one another and when that feeling of joy erupts from our bellies out through our mouths.
And to prove the wonder of just how God made us research has shown health benefits of laughter ranging from strengthening the immune system to reducing food cravings to increasing one's threshold for pain.
Blessed are the cheese makers.
There is perhaps another obvious pun and that is that we have done a lot of eating while I’ve been here. We haven’t always had cheese at every meal, but we have eaten some wonderful food. From pancake breakfasts to Italian night dinners we have had pot lucks and bread and soup. Each meal is a blessing. Every coffee hour and sheet cake has connected us because families eat together.
Jesus fed thousands with five loaves and two fish and then every Sunday he has invited us to eat his very own body and blood. When the disciples encountered the resurrected Christ on the road to Emmaus they ate together. Each time the altar has been set, the good china taken out, the pancake mix poured onto the grill, or a box of Dunkin Donuts Munchkins has been put out for coffee hour Jesus has blessed that meal and that time.
Blessed are the cheese makers.
The abundance of food produced in this place has never been limited for our own consumption. 150 cans of green beans, countless Stop and Shop Cards bought with money from the Fund for the Needy, strawberries cut for the festival at the Lutheran Home, cookies for Glendale residents and shut-ins, and so much more has been collected in this place and sent out to feed others.
Together we have been a blessing to those who hunger and thirst, not just for righteousness, but for sustenance.
Blessed are the cheese makers for they shall know the joy of laughter and food; laughter shared with God and food eaten at Jesus’ own table.
Blessed are you, my brothers and sisters who have been food for me these four years. Even in lean times I have been fed here. Blessed are you, cheese makers because you have become a blessing.
I have tried as often as I can to remind you in my sermons that God loves you; loves you so much that through baptism you became children of God who share in Christ’s resurrection and glory.
But God doesn’t love you because you are cheese makers. It’s God’s desire that you make cheese; that you share laughter and love, food and fellowship, but it is not the reason why God loves you.
God loves you because God is our maker. God sculpted and crafted us, called us beloved, adopted us through baptism, and recreated us as saints. God loves us because we are God’s.
God will forget our sin, but God does not forget to love us.
Remember that; see it when you look at yourself in the mirror and when you look into the face of another. Remember that God loves you and keep making cheese.
Amen.
