Fourth Sunday in Lent

 John 9:1-41

There are days in our lives when struggles seem to fill all our time.  Days when we wonder where God is, or if God really exists, or who God is.  In this scripture lesson for today, we have a story about a healing, but it is also a story about people trying to figure out who Jesus is.  We have a story of a man who, due to no fault of his own, finds that many in his society ostracize him, treat him as an outcast, want nothing to do with him, even ridicule him.  And into the life of this man comes Jesus, bringing the truth of God into the man’s life, or maybe it is telling us how the man’s life speaks the truth about God. 

This is a much longer lesson than we usually read.  I want to read the whole lesson, to get the whole story.  So, let’s walk through this lesson together, stopping many times to point out and talk about points in the story.  Reading from the Gospel according to John, chapter 9, verses 1-41.

Read John 9:1-5.  In the days that Jesus was walking this earth, some 2000+ years ago, medical knowledge was extremely limited compared to now.  There was little to no knowledge of why such things as birth defects occurred.  Even the term “birth defects” implies a point of view that some physical differences made a person inferior, as though they were defective.  With no knowledge of why such things happened, it became a common approach that one, like the man in this story who was blind from birth, was blind as a punishment for sin.  If the blindness was from sin, it seemed like the man himself could not have committed the sin before he was born, so often the parents were accused of some sin which had caused their child to be born with physical disabilities.

The disciples may just be making small talk, or asking a deeper question, when they ask Jesus who sinned, this man or his parents.  Jesus answers, “Neither”.  The guy was not born different as a punishment.  It was not just an accident.  This guy was born so that God’s works might be revealed in him.  That really is the case for all of us.  All of us are here so that God’s works might be revealed.

Read verses 6-12.  Jesus heals this man born blind.  Jesus spits on the ground, makes a bit of mud with the saliva, spreads the mud on the man’s eyes, and tells him to go and wash in the pool of Siloam.  Sometimes we see Jesus healing with just a word.  Sometimes we see Jesus healing when he lays his hands on someone.  This time Jesus does a bit more.  When the man is healed, people don’t seem to recognize him.

Sometimes that happens.  Sometimes we see someone in a different situation or dressed differently than we usually see them, and we don’t recognize him.  Here the neighbors can’t even agree if this is the same person.  It is he.  No, it is someone who looks like him.  But notice they don’t ask him if he is the same person.

Read Verses 13-17.  They take the man to the Pharisees.  Now we are told that the healing took place on the Sabbath day.  The Pharisees were very strict in their belief that all needed to strictly adhere to the law.  The law said that there was no work on the Sabbath.  Making the mud to put on the man’s eyes would be considered work.  On the Sabbath there were restrictions about how far one could walk.  You could feed the animals, but you should give them extra the day before, so not as much on the Sabbath.  There was the example that if your mule fell into a well on the Sabbath, and if it was ok, and would be ok until the next day, then you it would be work to pull it out of the well, but if it was hurt and needed attention, it was ok to pull it out.  So, if the guy had been blind since birth, it would be ok to wait a day before healing him. They figure that this is proof that Jesus is not sent from God.  And they do not believe the man when he tells them how he was healed.

Read verses 18-23.  So, they do not believe the man.  This guy is treated like he is a non-entity, like he isn’t even there when people talk about him, like he doesn’t even exist.  Well, they call in the parents and ask the parents about this man born blind who now can see.  Now the parents know that the Pharisees had already decided that anyone who confessed Jesus to be the Messiah would be put out of the synagogue.  And they knew that he was their son, and was born blind, and they did not know much else.  So, what do they say?  “He is of age, ask him.”

Read verses 24-34.  The Pharisees call the man who had been born blind and who now sees. They call him in to be questioned a second time.  They begin by saying that they know that this Jesus is a sinner.  And the man replies, “I don’t know if he is a sinner, but know that I was born blind and now I see.”  And he is asked again, “How did he open your eyes?”  I love the answer, “I have told you already, and you would not listen.  Why do you want to hear it again?  Do you want to become his disciples?”  And the Pharisees reply, “We know that God has spoken to Moses, but as for this man, we do not know where he comes from.”  And another brilliant zinger from the man born blind who now sees, “Here is an astonishing thing!  You do not know where he comes from, yet he opened my eyes.  If this man were not from God, he could do nothing.”  The Pharisees are insulted and drive the man out of the synagogue.

Read verses 35-41.  Jesus hears that they had driven him out, and goes to find him.  I think that is an amazing detail.  It is as though Jesus does not like the way this man was treated and goes to talk to him, to comfort him, after the Pharisees had been so rude, so very unwelcoming, and just plain not listening to what the man said.

The Pharisees, who would have claimed to know right from wrong, what was truth about God, how to live to please God, these Pharisees were judging others without knowledge and understanding.  If you don’t know what is right from wrong, it is difficult to get blame for doing the wrong thing.  But, if we claim to know right from wrong, then we can be held to a higher standard.

Jesus comes here to a man who was not in the mainstream of his society.  If the belief was that his blindness was the result of a punishment for sin, then his continued blindness would be a proof of his continued sin.  Jesus does not buy that explanation.  Jesus does not judge the ones on the fringe of society, or the ones not welcomed in society.  He does not act like they do not exist.  Instead, he seeks them out.  He comes to them.  He welcomes them.  That is a welcome into the Family of God.  Amen. 

-Neil Lindorff

Third Sunday in Lent

John 4:5-42

           The Gospel lessons that I want us to look at today, and next Sunday, are longer sections than we usually look at.  Both of them are from the Gospel according to John.  Today’s lesson is the story of Jesus meeting a Samaritan woman by a well.  It is found in John 4:5-42.  In this lesson no one is named, except Jesus.  It could be a story to teach a point that the disciples learned from Jesus, not giving names to the people, only people in general.

          In this part of John, Jesus and his disciples are traveling from Galilee to Judah.  In between Galilee and Judah was Samaria.  The Jews did not have dealings with the Samaritans.  They were looked at as an inferior group of people.  Most Jews would not eat with, travel with, talk with Samaritans.  Many would even avoid going through the land of the Samaritans.  If you picture going from here to Winnipeg, and not wanting to touch foot in Pembina county, you would not take the direct route of I-29, but you would have to go around.  Jesus did not do that.  He did not avoid Samaria.  He did not go around it.  He went through it. 

          So, here we have Jesus and his disciples coming to the Samaritan village of Sychar.  We have the image of a community well that all drew water from, and the well was just outside of town.  Jesus sits down by the well to rest while the disciples go into town to get some food.  It is about noon.

          It was a lot of work to carry all the water needed for a day.  Water for drinking, washing, cooking and anything else.  This was a hot and  dry climate.  Hauling water was the work of the women.  So, to avoid the heat of the day, the women generally would come to the well early in the morning.  The temperatures were cooler, and then they had the water that they needed for the day.  It was a social time for the women, as they visited while doing their work of carrying water.

          Jesus comes to this well about noon.  It is the heat of the day. He is just passing through. This Samaritan woman is coming to well in the heat of the day, to draw water, as though she was unwelcome to come when the other women came.  So, we have Jesus visiting with a Samaritan, and a woman, and a woman that is excluded even by the other Samaritan women.  This woman has at least three strikes against her.  Jesus stops her to talk to her.

          Jesus responds without hesitation or condemnation of this woman.  He asks her for a drink.  She does not catch on that the living water is Jesus, so she pictures the time and labor saving of Jesus giving her water.  Think of how often we do that, respond to our own personal need, just with a surface reaction.  Rather than catching on to a much deeper meaning.

          When the disciples return, they are astonished that Jesus was talking with a woman, to say nothing about a Samaritan woman.  When Jesus sends the woman back into town, she is so excited that she forgets to take her water jar along.  She literally forgets what she is doing.  She is still going to have to get water, but the visit with Jesus has taken priority.  Sometimes we see Jesus telling people to come and follow him, like when he called the disciples.  Jesus does not call the Samaritan woman to follow him on his journey, but he meets this woman on hers.

          She goes back into town and tells others about Jesus.  She becomes one of the first to proclaim the Good News of Jesus, as she brings the community she now reclaims back to Jesus and they are transformed.  We have a miracle of this woman being restored to her community, going from ostracized to one who is listened to and believed.  Her credibility is so much restored, that the townsfolk proclaim, “It is no longer because of what you said that we believe, for we have heard for ourselves, and we know that this is truly the savior of the world.”  Many believed because of the woman’s testimony.

          This story is typically told as a revelation of Christ’s divinity, “He told me everything that I had ever done.”  But it also speaks of so many other things.  It has Jesus responding to being tired, a very physical response, so he sits down by the well.  It has response to prejudice and exclusion as Jesus refuses to avoid Samaria, or an ostracized Samaritan woman.  It has people being drawn to water, first from the well, then living water.

          Think of water.  Water does not resist.  Water flows.  When you plunge your hand into it, all you feel is a caress.  Water is not a solid wall.   It does not resist when you enter it.  Water goes where it wants to go, and nothing in the end can stand against it.  Water is patient.  Dripping water wears away a stone.  Remember that our bodies are half water.  If you can’t go through an obstacle, then go around it.  Water does.

          This woman has very little understanding of Jesus.  Yet, she is excited about anticipation a divine connection that she does not understand, and which is inevitable.  May we all be so open to God, and to those around us, so as to accept each other, and even accept God when we don’t understand.  Amen.

- Neil Lindorff

Second Sunday in Lent

John 3:1-17

Today is the second Sunday in Lent and we’re going to continue my project of asking what the scriptures tell us about Jesus and his mission and purpose.  This may be a familiar scripture to you – at least the last few verses.  For many of us John 3:16 may be the first Bible verse we memorized in Sunday School.  (For God so loved the world…)  Before we take a magnifying glass to the end of this passage, let’s think a bit about what the beginning tells us.  It sets a context for our examination.

Nicodemus is a Pharisee.  What does that tell us about him?

• He is a man of wealth and influence who cares deeply about the Jewish religious tradition.

• He’s already somewhat of a reformer.  He’s not a Sadducee, the traditional party, but a Pharisee, the more progressive thinkers of the factions of the first century.

• He already believes in eternal life.  (The Sadducees did not.)  But his understanding of eternity is going to be very different from our twenty-first century view.  He would expect eternity to be spent on earth with all the folks resurrected and enjoying the reign of God right here.  And if the Messiah comes and begins that reign soon enough, he would expect to live in that reign without ever dying.

When Nicodemus hears the rumors circulating about Jesus, a new rabbi preaching about a new way to understand God, he’s intrigued.  He wants to know more about this man and what he thinks.  So he seeks Jesus out to have a conversation and see if they are on the same page.  He comes by night because he doesn’t want to ruin his reputation by consorting with radicals.  He’s not ready to publicly support this new teacher.  But he takes the risk of showing up in Jesus’ camp.

Nicodemus and Jesus have a theological conversation.  What we have in our Bibles isn’t a transcript of that event, but a summary written by the author of this gospel.  It reflects the way generations of Jesus followers have thought about the interface between Jesus and the Pharisees, who by the time the gospel is written down, have become the leaders of the Jewish faith in exile after the destruction of Jerusalem.  They are the religious leaders of the author’s time and so it’s important for new followers of Jesus to know how they are related.

What this conversation tells us is that Jesus was willing to go farther in reforming the faith of his day than even the more radical religious leaders.  It’s like being born again and starting over.  It’s something completely new in comparison to what they’ve always known.  It’s waking up to a new reality.  Think of it like those times in your life when you changed your mind completely about something – changed political parties, gave up red meat for a plant-based diet, decided to join a gym and actually showed up each day to exercise.  It’s not a small tweak; it’s a radical reorientation.  Being born again.  

Today’s language might be becoming “woke.”  Awakening to facts that were always there but not widely acknowledged.  Seeing systemic racism for what it has always been.  Waking up to the seriousness of climate change.  Coming face to face with the realities of the world that you’ve ignored all your life and deciding to do something about them.

Jesus is telling Nicodemus that he can’t just live the relatively comfortable role of a Pharisee with its perks of wealth and prestige.  His religion doesn’t need an upgrade, it needs a complete overhaul.  It’s time to become really radical – born again to a new way of living and thinking.

Then Jesus tells him what that new way looks like – like the ministry he’s leading and the message he’s teaching, based firmly in God’s love.  God so loved the world that he sent Jesus to tell everybody. 

The tradition of the Pharisees said God ruled the world by giving the law to be followed.  God, through Moses, interpreted by the Pharisees, sent hundreds of rules and if everyone could only follow them, the reign of God would come.  Do everything perfectly and it will trip the key and unlock heaven on earth. But the problem was, the rules were a heavy burden and very expensive and time consuming.  The peasants Jesus hung out with couldn’t possibly keep them.  They couldn’t afford the dishes and other supplies to keep kosher.  They couldn’t spend the time for all the ritual prayers and washings because they had to work long hours to feed their families.  They couldn’t make the multiple journeys each year to the Temple in Jerusalem or pay for the sacrifices.  Religion the way the Pharisees defined it was out of their reach.

Instead Jesus walked among them, helped them by healing disease and providing food, and told them God’s main characteristic wasn’t rules, it was love.  God loves you.  Not because you keep the law but because you are loved.  Not because you get everything right, but because you are loved.  Right here and now in the first century under Roman rule when life is hard – God loves you.  Right here and now in the twenty-first century when life is hard in new ways – God loves you.

God has sent Jesus not as judge but as savior.  Over time that has come to mean that if you believe in Jesus you go to heaven.  That’s a good promise.  In the first century it also meant that if you believed Jesus’ message, your life could be better right then.  This saying is about faith in God, but it’s also about trusting that what Jesus says is true.  Some scholars suggest that it’s about confidence in Jesus and his message.  Trusting him enough to change – to be born again – and to try to live by his teaching.  Trusting Jesus enough to care for one another, love enemies, share your bread and your extra coat, form a new kind of community based on love.

Being born again isn’t just about what you think about Jesus.  It’s also about living the way Jesus lived.  Seeing other people the way Jesus sees them.  Treating others the way Jesus treated them.  Trusting that when Jesus says God loves everyone, it’s true.  Being confident that God’s love doesn’t depend on keeping rules – anyone’s rules.  It’s just love and it’s for everyone.

God so loved the world, God so LOVES the world, that God sent Jesus to tell folks they are loved.  And to invite them to be born again into a new way of living.  To live based on love, which is the way the reign of God has always come among us and still does.

First Sunday in Lent

Matthew 4:1-11

Today is the first Sunday in Lent, the time in which we get ready to celebrate Easter.  You probably know already that I’m not a great fan of Lent, not because I’m opposed to getting ready for a celebration, but because over time Lent has come to focus on the terrible thing that happened to Jesus and how he went through trauma for our benefit.  It’s like the long, dark musical buildup in a horror show to when the villain jumps out with a butcher knife or a chain saw.  You know the ending is going to be bad, but you keep watching anyway.  Lent also focuses on how underserving we are of Jesus’ sacrifice.  It feels to me like saying “You deserve coal in your Christmas stocking but I’m going to give you presents anyway.”  That may be true, but it also might not be.  

The scriptures we’re given for Lent focus on how Jesus becomes clear about his ministry and mission and how he comes to understand what it means.  They help us answer the question, “What is Jesus about?”  If you start with an answer like “Jesus is dying for our sins,” then you get an emphasis on how terrible it’s going to be and how grateful we ought to be for this great sacrifice.  It’s the horror story buildup.  And it’s truly a part of what’s happening – even I acknowledge that.  But it’s not the totality of what’s happening, and maybe if we don’t start with an answer, we find new ways to think about this story.  I’d like to suggest that this year we start with the question:  what is Jesus about?  What is the point of Jesus’ ministry?

Usually on the first Sunday of Lent we read the story of Jesus’ temptation.  After Jesus is baptized, Matthew tells us he goes away from people (to the wilderness) to pray about what comes next.  Matthew assigns 40 days to this time period because he wants us to connect it with other holy stories – 40 days of rain for Noah, 40 years in the wilderness for those who escaped Egypt.  It’s a short-hand way to say “a long time of spiritual significance.”  Going away to pray is something that was surely already a part of Jesus’ practice, and it matches other times in his story in which he spent time praying.  Jesus is looking for focus and clarity about what comes next.

After 40 days of fasting, Jesus was hungry.  That seems obvious.  Spending that much time in serious meditation and prayer leads to other realities as well.  He was surely clearer about what was to come.  He had undoubtedly sharpened his message.  He had perhaps formulated an itinerary – which towns to visit first.  He would have thought about who he wanted to help him – his disciples – and how many it would take, at least to start with.  Undoubtedly alone in the dark he thought about the danger of what he was going to do and the possible unhappy consequences.  The time apart is a time of preparation.  From then on, Jesus isn’t just wandering around his neighborhood talking about whatever comes to mind.  He has a plan.

The rest of this particular story tells us what’s not part of that plan.  It’s framed as a conversation with the devil – that inner voice that tempts us to deviate from our plan and our values.  Jesus is having one of those moments we all have when we know what we ought to do and are struggling not to be distracted – or when we know what we shouldn’t do and really want to do it anyway.

Matthew suggests this centers on three options Jesus rejects:  feed himself, put himself in danger, worship the devil.

First of all Jesus doesn’t use his power to meet his personal needs.  Matthew claims elsewhere that Jesus is able to create bread out of thin air.  Or to turn stones into bread to eat after a long time fasting.  Jesus knows he has a powerful message and the skill to connect with and influence people.  He also knows his primary mission is to help others live better lives, not to make himself rich or famous.  His ministry is to be outward focused, not for his own personal benefit.

Next the temptation is to do something dramatic to prove that God will take care of him.  If his message is really from God, couldn’t he just march into the seats of power and claim the right of prophecy?  Should he start in Jerusalem calling the religious and political powers to task for the ways they are abusing their own power?  Instead he travels among the poorest people.  He takes his message to the countryside and speaks in fields and on hillsides.  His message is a direct confrontation to the powers that be, but he takes it to the common people.  He’s building a new community “from the bottom up and the middle out.”  His work is with the masses of common folk and not the heady stuff of power lunches and known leaders.

Finally, and related to both, he rejects the idea of assuming power himself by ingratiating himself to those already in power.  He doesn’t become a Pharisee or a Sadducee.  His is a message of faith, but he doesn’t start with the religious powers that be.  He doesn’t become an insider in order to serve the status quo.  His message is about change.  He wants to reform the way Judaism functions.  He wants to change its emphasis.  He wants to focus on the people who have been left out and forgotten.  He rejects personal power in order to connect with the powerless.  

One of the messages of Christianity that most grates on my nerves is the idea that Jesus “saves” us because we can’t do it for ourselves.  I agree that we can’t individually reach perfection.  But Jesus himself rejects the idea that he can use his power to “fix” what’s wrong.  Instead he goes to the community, the peasants he grew up with.  He connects with people who see God in a new and more expansive way, like he does, and encourages them to change.  Jesus believes in what’s possible when people work together to live in a new way.  He takes that message to them.  He organizes the community and challenges them to make the changes for themselves rather than waiting for change to come from power.  Even Godly power.

I believe that’s also an important message of Lent:  change is possible and you can be part of it.  We believe that’s true because Jesus believed it’s true.  Then he showed us how.  How to care about one another.  How to start over when we’ve messed up. How to do better.  How to believe in ourselves.  Jesus was creating a movement and a new way of understanding God and living together.  He’s inviting us to continue that work.  Together over the next few weeks we’re going to look at how to do just that.

Last Sunday after Epiphany

Matthew 17:1-9

Every year on the Sunday before Lent starts we read the story of Jesus’ transfiguration.  This story is loaded with symbolism.  It takes place on a mountain top – like all important stories in scripture when people are coming near to God and about to have a transforming experience of holiness.  Moses met God on a mountain when he received the commandments.  Elijah met God on a mountain when he had given up being God’s prophet and thought all was lost.  So Matthew has Jesus take the disciples to a mountain to confirm for them that something very important is happening in Jesus ministry.  And of course Moses and Elijah show up along with Jesus because the tradition says they will return when the Messiah comes.

Matthew tells this story because he’s working very hard to convince people that Jesus is the Messiah who was promised, even though he doesn’t do what the Messiah is expected to do.  He doesn’t overthrow Rome and replace Ceasar with God’s rule.  In fact, by the time Matthew writes his gospel, Rome has conquered Jerusalem for another time and destroyed the Temple.  Most of the people who lived in or near Jerusalem during Jesus ministry have died, been killed in war, or been taken across the Empire as slaves, many of them to build the Coliseum.  There simply is no good evidence that the Messiah has come to save God’s people and Jesus was the one.

Except for the evidence of those who encountered Jesus in person during his ministry (like the disciples and others who traveled with him)  or had  a revelation involving Jesus later (like Paul).  These folks insisted that Jesus had changed their lives and the world.  It was as though he shine with a great light and the voice of God confirmed he was the one.  Those folks were so convinced that even Jesus’ death or the threat of their own deaths couldn’t dissuade them from saying the Messiah had come and Jesus is the culmination of God’s work on earth.

The most important message of Transfiguration Sunday isn’t that something strange happened to Jesus once when he was having an executive committee meeting on a remote mountain.  It’s that a generation later when the gospels were written – and for generations after that – people keep insisting that God is in Jesus reconciling the world to a new way of living.  Even today people insist that God is in Jesus changing the world.

What is the first century message of Jesus that people found so transforming? 

Each of us hears that message in a personal way, and at different times in our lives places the emphasis on various aspects of it.  But there are common themes we can lift up.

You are loved by God and you matter. 

For the most party no one told people they were important.  But Jesus did.  He ate with outcasts, noticed beggars, paid attention to women, healed people who couldn’t pay a fee, and reprimanded leaders for making life hard for those with no power.  He spent every day concentrating on people who needed to be acknowledged because no one else would do that.  That kind of attention can be life changing – just knowing that your life matters to someone, especially to God.

You can care for each other. 

Time after time religious leaders confront Jesus because he takes care of people and breaks rules in the process.  He heals on the sabbath.  He stands up for prostitutes and tax collectors.  He lets people take grain from the fields when they are hungry.  He insists that people matter more than rules and community is the heart of faith.  That’s now how the world worked in his time and it’s not often the way the world works now.  But those who follow Jesus keep holding the vision that life can be better for everyone.

God shows up in the small stuff. 

Transfiguration is about a miraculous sign with light and booming voices and dead prophets brought to life.  But it’s not the end of the story.  The disciples are blown away by the whole experience and not sure what to do.  Should they pitch tents for Moses and Elijah?  Should they stay on the mountain?  In the end, Jesus just takes them back to work – like what most of us do when lunch break is over and there’s a long to-do list waiting.  Sure, you can hear the voice of God, but someone has to plan the itinerary and deal with the crowds and shop for supper groceries.  The disciples come down off the mountain and go back to doing what they were doing before.  But maybe they do it with a little more hope and a little lighter heart.  It’s possible that the point is that God is present in the day-to-day stuff that makes up life, and how we do those small tasks is the way we show that we know God is with us.

Victoria was helping me think about this scripture on Friday.  She made the helpful point that this story tells us we can come face to face with awesomeness and mystery.  There is something that speaks of holiness and the presence of God when we least expect it.  That’s an important insight.  I suspect this story is also telling us that holiness and mystery aren’t often found in spectacular events in faraway places.  They happen in the heart of ordinary life when we care for one another and reinforce that everyone matters.

God is present when we buy coats on sale for kids who need new ones in February.  When we dish up chili and cookies for students far from home.  When we help with a rent deposit so someone can get her own place and maybe get her kids back from foster care.  When we listen to each other over coffee and really care about the hard things that are happening in our lives.

Matthew was convinced that in spite of all the evidence, Jesus was the Messiah and the world had changed.  Those who follow Jesus in our time believe the same thing.  In spite all the hard things that happen and the systems that beat people down, we can care about each other.  We can experience people caring about us.  And the world can change.  

It’s a matter of seeing light in darkness and believing that light will win in the end.  Sometimes there’s a transforming moment and we’re lifted up into the presence of God – quite beyond our ordinary selves.  But mostly it’s a matter of getting up and doing the work and believing that it’s enough just to be alive, just to care, just to hope.

Sixth Sunday after Epiphany

Selected verses from Job

Today is our celebration of Religion and Science Weekend, something we’ve made an annual event for several years now.  Michael Zimmerman began the movement which has become Religion and Science Weekend almost 20 years ago.  He’s written an introduction to this year’s event which I can’t improve upon, so I’m going to share it with you:

At a time when the anti-science movement is growing and when religion is being defined by its most extreme adherents, there is some very good news that might make a difference in how we approach some of our largest problems, problems that are ecological, economic, and health-related, as well as simply associated with our basic humanity.

The fact is that clergy members from all portions of the United States and from around the globe have come together to offer a better way to look at the world. They have come together to demonstrate that religion, in its best form, requires us to care for one another and for the planet on which we live. They recognize that the process of scientific investigation and the information it yields, trumps opinion, and can provide insight into a host of critical issues, from dealing with pandemics to climate change, from understanding that racism makes no sense given our shared humanity to appreciating the complexities associated with sexual and gender identity.

And, perhaps most importantly, these forward-looking clergy members know that religion and science need not be in conflict, that the two can work together productively to help create a greener, more equitable and more harmonious environment for all.

The clergy members I’m referencing are the thousands of members of The Clergy Letter Project, a grass-roots organization originally created to promote the teaching of evolution in public school science classrooms and laboratories. In an attempt to spread their message of the compatibility of religion and science, for the past 17 years they’ve sponsored Evolution Weekend, an opportunity to raise the quality of the dialogue on this important topic. For these 17 years, on the weekend closest to the birth of Charles Darwin (12 February 1809), clergy members have delivered sermons, hosted panel discussions, led children’s classes, participated in book groups, and done much more to influence the way people understand the relationship between religion and science. Over these 17 years, participating clergy members have reached well over one million people in their churches, temples, and mosques.

But this year, recognizing that more needs to be done, members of The Clergy Letter Project, voted to transform Evolution Weekend into something larger, more vibrant, and even more relevant to the problems we are currently facing.

They’ve voted to change Evolution Weekend into Religion and Science Weekend. This change, while continuing to acknowledge the centrality of evolution to science, demonstrates the myriad ways in which religion and science can interact productively in service of us all.

This year they selected an exciting theme for Religion and Science Weekend, Mystery, Awe and Wonder in Religion and Science.

This theme demonstrates not only the concordance of religion and science but also the excitement that can arise when we gain a deeper understanding of ourselves and the world around us. Both religion and science can lead us to this place and when we arrive, we are able to reach beyond ourselves to others and help create a more welcoming environment. This is a large part of what both religion and science are all about. Both recognize that the world is filled with mysteries, mysteries that we might untangle if we explore carefully and creatively, and both recognize that we might be appropriately awed as we make our discoveries. Both religion and science entail a journey — a journey joyfully taken by the congregations who have opted to participate.

Take a moment to explore our page of participating congregations. I hope you find one near you and that you opt to join us on this incredibly important journey. If your local congregation is not yet listed, ask your clergy member to join our effort reform public opinion about both religion and science. Together we can make a difference.

We are one of the congregations listed on the web page for this event, and long ago I signed the letter encouraging school districts to allow the full wonder of scientific discover to be shared with students.  Rather than threatening our faith, the wonder of science has the capacity to expand and strengthen our experience of God.  

There may have been a time when folks thought science could explain everything, and the science lab could replace scripture in our understanding of how the world works.  Now it seems that the more our scientists learn about how things work, the more they marvel at the world’s intricacies and the mysteries we can’t yet explain.   The Albert Einstein quote in your bulletin affirmed that a generation ago:  The most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious.  It is the source of all true art and science. (Einstein)  Our scripture lesson from Job said essentially the same thing 2500 years ago:  No matter where we look at the world around us, there is always more to wonder about.  We haven’t begun to unravel the mysteries of creation.  Rather than leading us away from God or challenging our faith, science has the potential to put us face-to-face with some power more astonishing that we can ever describe.

Both science and faith teach us two things we can celebrate today.  First, the universe is an intricate design of incredible beauty and wonder.  Whether we look at the expanses of space or the minute particles of being, everything is amazing.  Second, all of creation is interrelated.  Every tiny part matters to the whole.  When we’re called to take seriously the challenges to earth’s health posed by human negligence, we are talking about our future = and the future of every part of being.  None of us is immune from the dangers misuse poses in our time.  It’s time to pay attention because the health of our air, earth and water insures the survival of future generations.  When the Clergy Letter Project reminds us we can make a difference, it’s a call to action we can and should take seriously.  The awe and wonder of the universe will survive, but the future of our particular world is truly in our hands today. 

Fifth Sunday after Epiphany

1 Corinthians 2:1-12

The people of Corinth had a reputation among first century cities of being hard living, hard drinking, and unruly.  Paul had lived in Corinth for a year and a half, talking to people there about Jesus and how Jesus’ followers lived in community.  He taught them to care for each other and to get along.  Then he moved on to other towns and things in Corinth fell apart.  He got reports of infighting, misbehavior, and general chaos among community members.  This letter is his attempt to put things right.

Paul reminds the people that he didn’t come to them with high-minded philosophy – with big words and bigger ideas.  There were plenty of philosophers in his world, but he chose a different approach.  He brought them straight-forward teaching about practical things.  Above all, he brought them Jesus’ own teaching about how to live the best life possible in difficult circumstances.  He taught them ”nothing  except Jesus Christ and him crucified.”

From a 21st century mindset, Jesus crucified sounds like fancy theology and complicated thinking.  We have 2000 years of philosophy about what crucifixion means, most of it about ways God is manipulating the world to accomplish cosmic things.  In the first century crucifixion carried none of that baggage.  Crucifixion was a daily reality in the lives of ordinary people.  It was excruciating and bloody.  At one point Roman soldiers executed so many people in and around Jerusalem that they caused a shortage of wood. This wasn’t a justified execution of real criminals who deserved to die.  It was the way Rome frightened people into obedience.  Jesus did nothing illegal.  His message was nonviolent.  Even Pilate who tried him found no evidence to convict him.  Yet he was crucified because Rome could do anything they wanted to anyone they wanted.  It was a pure abuse of power and it happened every day.

What can we compare first century crucifixion to that gives us a sense of how horrific it was?  Maybe black men stopped for a traffic violation which leads to their death.  There’s no reason for it.  Usually there’s no crime and certainly not one worthy of execution.  Yet day after day people die because their skins are darker than ours.  What words describe that reality?  Futility?  Despair? 

When Paul preaches Jesus crucified he’s preaching the daily reality of life under Roman domination.  He’s talking about injustice, domination, crushing taxation, dying for the crime of breathing the same air as a Roman soldier passing by.  His audience understood the hardships of that life because they lived it too.  Surely they knew people who had been crucified for less offenses than Jesus.  Maybe they would be next.

And yet…and yet Paul tells them that Jesus taught another way of living that brought peace and joy and justice right under the noses of the Empire and still remained invisible to them.  In spite of the horrors of their lives, they could live in community, care for each other, and find goodness among themselves.  Paul taught them this way of life by teaching them the words of Jesus as he knew them.  Love your enemies. Share your bread.  Do unto others what you would have others do to you. Overcome evil with good.

Rome kept the pax romana, the Roman peace, through violence and domination.  They used fear to keep people in line.  It meant you could travel and do business across the whole Empire in relative safety, have good roads and clean water, pay your taxes and be left alone – unless you were one of the unlucky ones.  The unlucky ones were crucified on a whim, carried as slaves to far places, brutalized as an example of what Rome could do just because…  In contrast Jesus and Paul and others taught a different kind of peace.  Theirs was a peace built of compassion and mercy.  They valued human life and dealt kindly with one another.  They made sure no one went without food, clothing and shelter.  They healed disease and healed relationships.  Without confronting Rome, they made it possible for people to experience life in a very different way.  They made it possible to know that life can be good in spite of what Empire is doing around you.  

Jesus and Paul taught that no matter what Rome does – even taking your life – they can’t change your heart unless you let them.  You always get to decide what kind of person you will be, and you can always choose to do good and be good.

There are some things about living in our time that are like the first century and many things that are quite different.  We talk often about what we want to change in our world.  We long for more justice, compassion, and equity.  It’s important that we pay attention to those things and that we use the considerable power we have to work for change.

But it’s also important to start with the basics and one of those is what Paul tells us today – you get to choose how you are and who you are.  And God sees you as amazing.

In a world where most people simply didn’t matter, Jesus brought a much different message:  you are infinitely loved and valued by God.  You are loved.  You are a treasure.  God notices you and cares what happens to you.  You don’t belong to Rome, you belong to God.

In its own way, our time can be as difficult as any other time.  There are messages around us every day that try to tear us down.  We don’t look as good as we should.  We don’t make as much money as we should.  We don’t have the perfect family we should have.  We aren’t as athletic as we should be, or as healthy, or as funny, or as smart.  All of that may or may not be true.  This IS true:  God loves you.  God believes in you.  God will never give up on you.

Paul was teaching the folks in Corinth that it’s possible to form a community which treats people well and values them just because the exist – before they do or say anything at all.  They had formed a community like that.  Then they lost it.  They began arguing and treating each other badly.  Paul doesn’t give up.  He starts teaching them from the beginning how to do it again, and they remember and start over.

The church is the community of Jesus Christ where people always matter.  It’s the place where you count just like you are and where folks believe in what you can be.  Sometimes we get it right.  Sometimes we don’t, and we have to ask for forgiveness and try again.  We intend to be folks who don’t just long for a better world, but we create it.  Right here.  Right now.  We can live into a better way.  Each and every one of us is essential in that effort.  Thank you for who you are.

Third Sunday after Epiphany

Matthew 4:12-23

Last week we read one version of how Jesus came to gather his first disciples.  Today we read Matthew’s way of telling this story.  Both stories have a strong connection to John the Baptizer, who was the first to preach about a new way to live, following God into creating a just society.  Scholars have come to believe that Jesus began as a disciple of John and then took the movement further, particularly after John was arrested by Herod and then executed.

We read today that Jesus gathered fishermen from the shores of Lake Galilee, near his hometown of Nazareth and his mission headquarters of Capernaum.  Matthew connects this to prophecy about the Messiah coming from that region, because one of his chief purposes in writing his Gospel is to prove that Jesus is the Messiah, even though he doesn’t conquer Rome.

We’re used to thinking of fishing as a small business, but in first century Palestine fishing was the same as share-cropping.  Rome owned the fish and those who caught and sold them owed most of the proceeds in taxes.  These were peasants, like many of the people who came to follow Jesus and probably Jesus himself.  

Jesus tells these fishermen that he will change their life’s work to “fishing for people.”  They are going to help him gather a following for his movement which envisioned a new way to live in community.  They attracted these folks by becoming energy healers, curing common diseases through laying hands on the body and praying.  Jesus taught them to heal and the healings attracted the crowds. 

When the people gathered, Jesus talked to them about how to heal society.  He worked on their understanding of the world as in God’s hands.  In contrast to violence and destruction, warfare and occupation, Jesus talked about compassion, respect, and dignity.  He taught what we call anger management in order to prevent people from retaliation from occupying soldiers – turn the other cheek, love your neighbor.  In a world where peasants and slaves held no value and were easily replaceable, Jesus told them that God loved them, cared for their daily living, and included all people – even women and children – in God’s kingdom.  We know Jesus traveled with 12 male disciples, but we also know that at one point there were at least 70 people actively involved in the ministry.  Jesus deployed them in pair to many villages to heal and talk about this new way of living. There were women traveling with them and helping to pay the bills.  The children in the crowds were welcomed and brought to the front where they could see.  One little boy helped provide lunch one day.

The Jesus movement directly challenged the ruling power of Rome and the local folks who worked for Rome.  In a land where many were hungry, they fed people.  Some stories tell of miraculous multiplying of the loaves and fish, and equally miraculous sharing of what was in backpacks so there was enough for everyone.  Jesus challenged the rulers by standing up for economic justice and calling out those who profited from the peasants.  He believed people should be housed and clothed and have work that provided for families and gave dignity.  The communities that formed during his ministry and after focused on those basic needs.  They took care of each other.

Next Sunday we’re going to celebrate what we’ve done in the last year to continue Jesus’ work in our own time.  We ARE a community that follows his vision for how life works.  

So we feed folks – at LaGrave, through the food pantry, at UND, for PRIDE.

We pay back rent and utilities so families can stay in warm homes.

We repair trucks and buy license plates so people can get to work.

We aren’t faith healers, but many support various kinds of health care in their professions and we pay medical bills and make quilts for hospice ministry.

We say right up front that every person matters and is welcome here and we advocate with the powers that be to extend that welcome across our society.

We support and care for each other in hard times, like the recent deaths, those who are coping with illness with loved ones, those who are helping friends and family overcome addiction or trauma and get whole.

Like any communities, we have fun, encourage children, make our space beautiful and more.

We are a people of faith who value the stories in scripture and the tradition of how people have followed Jesus over the centuries.  We believe the teachings of Jesus and others and we watch for new insights into how God is working in the world.  We say “God is still speaking” and we listen for what that word might be.

We are also a people of action.  We say “God’s work, our hands” and then find ways to put love into action.  It’s the way we share that love with the world.

We celebrate the three years Jesus was in ministry and the 2000 years his ministry has continued since.  I look forward to celebrating our part of that ministry next Sunday and to the ways we’ll create more ministry together in 2023.  It’s a way we’re still responding to Jesus’ invitation to “follow me” and create the Kingdom of God – a community that lives God’s love every day.

Second Sunday after Epiphany

John 1:29-42

During Christmas and Epiphany, we've been reading the stories about Jesus’ birth and the Jewish prophecies that people connected with Jesus - declaring that he was the chosen one or the Messiah that they were expecting. He would be the one who confronted their difficult situation as a conquered people and set them free.

Today and next Sunday we're reading the stories about how the adult Jesus began a movement to do exactly that - address the harsh realities of life in first century Palestine and free people to live in new ways. We know (from the perspective of centuries later) that this movement wasn't what they expected. We also know that it was world-changing.

The gospels agree with slight variations that this movement began with John the Baptizer who was calling people to change and follow God in new ways. He wanted to reform the injustice of society by asking people to re-commit to their faith and make faith principles the foundation for their life choices and behaviors. Scholars believe that Jesus was first a disciple of John.  He was attracted to John's call for change in society beginning with change in people's hearts. Like many movements, the disciple becomes an even greater leader. Today's scripture talks about how John saw Jesus as the one to expand his message and John's disciples became the core of Jesus' disciples.

When John's disciples are considering whether they might be better following Jesus, he asks them a key question: What are you looking for? Here were young men who had been following John, taking time away from work and family, because they wanted something different in life.

They were perhaps the young radicals of their time. Today we'd find them at protests and marches or lobbying at the legislatures. Jesus asks them, "What is it you want?"

It's true that you can't tell if you're in the right place if you don't know where you want to be? You can't change the world unless you know what kind of world you think would be better? Jesus wants people with him who have the potential for caring about the things Jesus sees as essential. He wants them to be on the same page. What he's going to do is going to be hard, and he'll need apprentices who can stick with him in the hard times. So, the question matters to Jesus - are these people who want what he wants. It's also true that it matters to the men who were coming to him.  There's no sense giving your life to a work that doesn't match what matters to you. "What do I want?" is a question we all need to ask, probably over and over throughout our lives.

"What do I want?" matters when we choose a church community to be part of as well. For many of us our original communities were chosen for us by our families. or perhaps our families chose that we wouldn't be part of any church. What feels comfortable to us as adults begins with what felt good - or what felt discordant - to us as children.  People seek out congregations that match where they started or avoid congregations because they were taught to distrust churches. But what we need from a church change over time.

Sometimes we need a place to belong and feel valued. Our congregation values welcome, and hopefully we live out that value as we interact with those who come through our doors. We need a place that matches our basic idea of how life ought to work. A little challenge from time to time is good for us. A complete disconnect is a sign we need to be somewhere else. We need to be seen and heard by a community. When we're ill or sad or struggling we need some support and comfort. Sometimes we need soup or a hug.  When we're celebrating or rocking life we need acknowledgement. We need a place to put our energy to work. Jesus disciples stayed with him because they connected to him as a person, not just as an idea. We all need connection.

We also need meaning and people who share that same sense of meaning. Jesus and his disciples were determined to make life better for the people of their day. We are too. There are lots of ways to define "better." We're here because we have a consensus about justice and inclusion and basic needs being met (food/clothing/shelter/education/work).  We don't agree about every detail, but we have a vision that matches what we see a core teachings of Jesus, and we have a commitment to working on some part of that vision. I have a friend that left a discussion group because she wanted to DO something at this moment in her life. We all have needs to learn and needs to act. At particular times in our lives the balance between those two shifts. We can pay attention to the shifts and adjust where we are and what we're about accordingly

It's interesting to me that when the disciples inquire about what Jesus is up to, he doesn't hand them a brochure or give them a mission statement. He says, "Come and see." If you want to know what I'm about, come hang out with me and see for yourself. Try it out and see if it works for you. Those of us who continue to follow Jesus today could use a little "come and see." Come and see why Jesus' words give me hope.

Come and see how Jesus' community supports me in my ups and downs.
Come and see how Jesus' inspires me to make a difference in this community.
Come and see how we work together and play together.
Come and see what this part of the Jesus movement is about.

Often, we assume that church isn't for everyone so we shouldn't bother folks with an invitation to join us. They might be offended. It might end our friendship. Inviting folks to be with us isn't about what we need them to do. (Although sometimes it's been exactly about that!)  An invitation is a chance to know people better. What matters to them? What would they like to be involved in? How can we encourage them in the situations they face right now? How can we support them in what they are becoming?   If we value our own connection to this community, we can be willing to share it. "Come and see" what we're up to, and if it matches what you are looking for, there's a place for you here.

Just like Jesus, we're building a movement. He's still our guide, but we're the ones doing the work right here, right now. If it matters to us, it may well matter to others. Let's invite them to come and see.

Epiphany

Matthew 2:1-12

Every year the church celebrates Epiphany on January 6 and honors the story of the wise ones, astrologers who followed an amazing star to find a newborn king.  In our time Epiphany falls right after the Twelve Days of Christmas, so we think of the journey as taking 12 days.  In traditional Christmas pageants this story comes at the end, right after the shepherds, so it takes about 5 minutes.  Last week we read that King Herod tried to eliminate this new king and murdered baby boys two years and younger, so that implies that the journey took much longer, which makes sense as there would be planning involved and camels aren’t the fastest mode of travel.  No matter how we understand the timing, this story is about Jesus being recognized as royal by people of other faiths and nationalities.  Matthew tells it as an infancy story, and we love it that way.  It’s also about people conviction that no matter who you are, where you live or how you worship, Jesus’ message is important to you.

The theme of Epiphany is light.  It’s symbol is the bright star that amazed everyone who saw it.  Light has many important meanings and all of them apply here.  We say Jesus is the light of the world and mean that he’s inspiring, that he illuminates our understanding of God and God’s will and ways.  When Jesus talked about God during his teaching, people were introduced to a god who was loving and just, rather than judgmental and capricious.  They “met” God in a new way, different from the religion they’d been taught by the priests and rabbis.  It was a “revelation” that God could care for them and not just require difficult obedience.

Jesus as the light of the world also means that he shines the light of truth into situations which are deceiving.  The religious authorities of his day talked about God in ways that benefited them financially or with power.  The political authorities used religion to reinforce their own power which benefited them financially as well.  When Jesus spoke of God as loving, encouraging us to be compassionate and merciful, he exposed the lies people had been told.  This light helps us today see how leaders can manipulate religion for personal gain.

Jesus as the light of the world is inclusive.  Matthew wants people to know that Jesus isn’t just for the Jews but can be a benefit to everyone.  It took generations for the message of Jesus to spread past the Jewish hope for a Messiah to impact the Gentile world.  Early church leaders argued back and forth about who can be included as a Jesus follower, and inclusive won. Jesus included rich and poor, men/women/children, those who were ill and scary to their neighbors, and those whose employment led others to ostracize them. The message is meant to be expansive.  We celebrate that when we highlight that everyone is welcome in the life of our congregation.  In the twenty-first century we understand this to apply to people of all faiths, not just those who call themselves Christian.  The values and principles Jesus taught are held in common by Christians, Jews and Moslems.  They are matched by the teachings of the Buddha and by other eastern holy ones.  Jesus’ vision is bigger than one person or even one movement.  It embraces everyone and invites all people to see what’s here and how it enhances their own beliefs.  (And invites us to see what gifts people of other faiths bring to us – the gold, frankincense and myrrh of their teachings.)

Jesus as the light of the world is hopeful.  Scripture tells us that “the light shines in the darkness and the darkness cannot overcome it.”  I don’t know about you, but often when life overwhelms it feels good to light a candle in the room.  Candlelight represents hope.  When we worship, we light candles.  When we march or protest, we carry candles.  When we pray, we light candles.  Light represents our conviction that there is always hope.  Jesus lived in terrible times – war, slavery, poverty, despair – and he told people that God cared about them and they could care about each other.  He taught them that they could change the way things are and establish life in the pattern of God’s good vision.  Using contemporary language, we say Jesus believed in the power of evolution – life getting better bit by bit.  Jesus believed in the ability of people to change – to become more honest, kinder, fair, generous.  Jesus invited everyone to become creators of God’s future and to believe they could make a difference.

In the northern hemisphere Christmas and Epiphany fall when the solstice has turned and light is growing.  All these hopeful themes get tied up with our longing for longer days and warmer times, for growth and renewal.

In our country they mark the beginning of a new year with its resolutions and commitments.  We’re still hoping, at least for a while, that we’ll make things new in our own lives this year.

They also come as legislative sessions are beginning, with folks of all persuasions thinking about laws and programs that will be helpful to our common life.

And at the beginning of a new semester with new classes to discover and new people to meet.

We are given the opportunity to reflect on how our faith and our learning, our work and our connections to people all work together to make something good, something better for everyone.

This is the time of light and hope and discovery.  May God bless what we make of it this year.

First Sunday of Christmas - New Year’s Day

Matthew 2:13-23

During the twelve days of Christmas we read the stories of Jesus childhood for our lectionary reading.  There aren’t very many days and there aren’t very many stories about that time so it’s a good match.  This year we read from the gospel according to Matthew, which focuses on the story of the wise ones from the east.  Because it’s our practice to celebrate Epiphany or the arrival of those wise ones on the Sunday after January 6, our stories are a little scrambled – talking today about what happens after that visit and next Sunday celebrating Epiphany. 

The Gospel of Matthew was written for a Jewish audience across the known world about two generations after Jesus’ life and ministry.  One of its purposes was to convince that group of people that Jesus was the expected Messiah and the prophecies about what God was going to do for God’s people had been fulfilled.  That was a big task because the Messiah was expected to overthrow Rome and establish Israel as a superpower under God’s leadership.  By the time the gospel was written, Rome and demolished Jerusalem and the temple there and scattered those folks who survived across the empire.  Jesus’ understanding of God’s rule was about how people lived in any circumstances rather than about conventional power politics.  Jesus emphasized compassion, justice, peace, generosity and all those values we so treasure as a god-like quality of life and a way to control our attitude no matter who oversees our circumstance.  Since he doesn’t do or say what a Messiah is supposed to do and say, the message needs spin – and Matthew spins it by showing that Jesus fulfills all the prophecies.

Today’s scripture is a great example of what our friend Marcus Borg talks about when he says, “The Bible is full of many true stories, some of which happened.”  There are actually two stories here about what’s known as “the flight into Egypt,” the first paragraph tells it one way and the second two paragraphs tell it another.  There is no historical evidence from other sources of either of these stories.  You’d think if the ruler killed every baby boy born in a two-year span, someone would mention it.  Or if Jesus had mentioned living in Egypt for several years one of the other gospels would have also told that tale.  The danger here is that we decide since we can’t verify the history, we should ignore the stories.  Then Dr. Borg reminds us that the Bible isn’t about history as we understand it in our time but about truth.  It’s the record of what folks who believed in God and Jesus thought mattered and why they stuck with that faith for centuries.  If stories sustain people over generations, then they matter, and we can receive them as a gift to our time.

Today’s stories are about people being completely convinced that Jesus is the one whom God has sent to transform the world.  They were so sure of that truth that they told tales of his childhood which proved he was the one they were expecting.  The gospel writer took those stories which were circulating in this church and included them in his story. He used them to help change the expectations to match what Jesus actually taught.  He insisted that Jesus’ understanding of what God was doing was correct and the hope for revolution and empowerment was a spiritual movement and not political.  That assertion is the birth of what has become Christianity and is the faith we claim today.  So these stories matter to us – if we believe them to be literally true or not.  Either way, they reinforce how essential Jesus’ teachings are to life as God’s people.

We come to these stories on the first day of a new year.  They are a gift to us as we’re anticipating what life will be like in 2023.  What does it mean to us as we make a new beginning to say that Jesus is the model of the best way to live?  Or that the teachings of Jesus reveal how God intends for the world to work for the benefit of all people and all creatures?

I invite you to reflect for a bit on which of the values Jesus lifted up are most important to you in this moment in your life.  I have my own list which you hear from me often – compassion, justice, generosity…  Would you be willing to share the words that matter most to you?

The current motto of the United Church of Christ is “God is still speaking.”  That means we believe God is relevant to the way we live.  That the Bible and preachers and most of all the community – all the people – can be inspired with insight into the way we should live by God’s love.  So what matters to you, like you’ve just expressed, can be a way that God guides us into a better way of relating to ourselves, each other and the world.

The current motto of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America is “God’s work; our hands.”  There’s not a motto much more on target for this congregation than that.  We put faith into action.  In our daily lives and our community projects we share God’s love for the world by meeting needs and making life better for others.  

Because we believe God is speaking today and we’re acting on what we hear, it makes sense for us to reflect on what we hope that might mean in 2023.  So we’re going to adapt something we’ve done before to that purpose today.  I’m going to give you a few minutes to think about your hopes and dreams for the new year.  It can be something personal – better health, a new job, or something global - improved immigration policy, peace, or anything in between.  You can write your hope on the paper we’ve provided and in a few minutes I’m going to invite you to bring your paper to the manger in the front as a way of declaring your intention for the coming year.  If you wish, you may read what you’ve written to the group or you may choose not to do so.  It’s a way for us to make a new beginning together and to ask God to bless the year ahead. 

Fourth Sunday in Advent

Joseph and the dilemma

Joseph was a law-abiding righteous man, we are told. He had a fiancé, Mary. And he learns she is pregnant. Under the law, this was a bad, bad thing for Mary.

Some background information about early Jewish marriages helps the setting of this text. In the first place, engagement in this culture was a formal contractual matter, usually decided on by the two fathers in question (i.e., it was an arranged marriage), and was, in fact, the first stage of the marriage itself, to be complete some months hence by the formal wedding ceremony. The reason Matthew says that Joseph had resolved to “divorce” a woman he was only engaged to, is because engagement then was a legally binding contract, unlike engagement in the West today.

Secondly, we need to understand in that patriarchal culture, the birth of the first born son was all important and crucial to the family line and property transfer. The fact Joseph is prepared to give up the right to sire his own first-born son and accept and even name Jesus (Yeshua/Joshua means “Yahweh saves”) says a lot about the character of Joseph. It leads to the oddest genealogy ever in Matthew 1:1-17 in which Jesus is shoehorned into Joseph’s genealogy by putting Mary into that genealogy despite the fact that it is a patrilineal genealogy (x begat y…).

Unless he claimed the baby as his own, Mary (and Jesus) might die.  He had to let Love overpower Law, and accept Mary’s baby as his own. This decision came to him in a dream. I myself have doubts about the whole angel part of the story, but I am ok with it, too.

Worth noting here are the Angel’s words “don’t be afraid”. Fear not. Because our best decisions are not made in fear, are they. Joseph’s decision changed our lives here, roughly 2000 years later. No giant discovery, just a very personal decision by Joseph, who was not anyone special.  And today we tell this story. It seems like a good time to reflect where we could be kinder and more forgiving and make the world better in some small way.   We cannot see the future that flows from our actions today, actions either done or not done.

I have a real problem with verse 22. This I think is a nod to contemporary Judaism and from our perspective seems strange. Joseph and Mary had a child and THAT was God’s purpose (in my mind). There is another often missed piece of this story. The name of the child. Jesus is a Greek form of the Hebrew Joshua, which means “the Lord saves”.  The community would have known this. Yet Joseph raised his son to be a carpenter and not a spiritual leader. He did not appear to expect a Messiah.

But he took a chance, and we are forever grateful.

— Don Medal

Third Sunday in Advent

Gaudete Sunday

Happy Gaudete - Rejoice. I had to look this up (including the pronunciation) but Gaudete is Latin for Rejoice which is what the 3rd Sunday of Advent represents. Like many who are lay people (not anywhere close to being an expert or even really a novice on scripture) I did a fair amount of research for today. Rather fun actually. I read sermons on Matthew 11:2-11 by deep thinking and learned ministers. I appreciated all their insights. Then I thought, as an amateur, I better tread lightly here.  A quote I did find on the subject of Gaudete is this though: “Rejoice in the Lord always; again I say rejoice. Let your forbearance be known to all, for the Lord is near at hand; have no anxiety about anything, but in all things, by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be known to God. Lord, you have blessed your land.” In many respects we choose to be part of a faith community “to have no anxiety about anything” and to give “thanksgiving” and to experience the wonders of Christ. Rejoice!

That sets the stage rather well. “…have no anxiety about anything…let your requests be known to God.” In Matthew, Christ says “the blind receive their sight and the lame walk, lepers are cleansed and the deaf hear, and the dead are raised up, and the poor have good news preached to them.” That is fairly vivid and powerful imagery. All of those acts cited in Matthew we want to believe in them – and whether actual and tangible or not, they represent or symbolize faith, the opportunity for renewal, the advent for our own rebirth by believing in the teachings of Christ.  Rejoice.

I think overall the Advent period, while leading up to the birth of Christ and then eventually the Resurrection, is certainly within a faith context, all about rejoicing. But as we all know even outside of our Christian faith rejoicing happens in a very secular way too. This time of year, is all about rejoicing. I am struck every December how everything changes: we are encouraged through advertising, events, and just simple one-on-one interactions to be positive, be happy, rejoice. People bust out in good cheer. Some even come to your door and force singing on you (whether invited or not). Our attitudes are reshaped, or are supposed to be, at least for the final four weeks of the year. Then we creep back into our regular lives in January. We are to be UP, UP, and UP. We know Christmas is about giving, about receiving, about some sense of renewal and rejoicing. However, we need to recognize that this is not a rejoicing period for all people. I am not being as critical as I sound, but I find it interesting whether a person is a Christian or an atheist -Santa has been watching. Be careful. Be happy. You will “rejoice” whether you want to or not. 

Don’t worry I will get to more actual rejoicing in this paragraph. However, remember I am an academic and a researcher so before I get to my main point, I have to analyze all angles, provide an inordinate amount of context, along with an acceptable number of digressions. It is in my UND faculty contract. Thus a part of rejoicing is also understanding that rejoicing is actually hard for many people. People sometimes contemplate loss at this time of year. I remember some years ago my mother died four days before Christmas. That definitely clouds things. We all have losses that come into focus at this time of year. One hope when that happens people can contemplate their loss, go to the loss and all the feelings intertwined, to struggle with it -yes; but ultimately to come out the other side with some degree of clarity, healing, and that ability to stay connected – to find the opportunities and renewal in spite of how hard life is at times, to find the way forward. That is rejoicing.  For many of us with a faith stance -that is the purpose and one I find from Christ or with Christ. That is what Christ is to me- a medium, a passage to find opportunity and to rejoice in Christ-like acts to make a difference and to impact the lives of others. I think of it as opportunity through meaning; opportunity through action, and opportunity through “light signs.” Every week we recount numerous “light signs.” We, as we often say “are the little church that does big things.” Asked what we do we proudly say “we feed people, we help to house people, we make quilts as gifts, we plant and care for a community garden (a very concrete example of renewal and rejoicing), we knit hats and scarves, we restart a community PFLAG, we initiate a new community process called ‘Connections,’ we are ‘Reconciled in Christ,’ we are ‘open and affirming’” -in short we are here to help people, particularly the most vulnerable. And we do this beyond our size. We are the “little church that does big things!” Rejoice! As a UCC member I have been encouraged to struggle with my faith, to question it, to question teachings, to tug and pull at it, and not accept others' definition of faith without first considering my questions and the answers that I find. I have had various UCC ministers explain that aspect of the need for struggle and not blind acceptance. The UCC national motto has been “God is still speaking,” It ends with a comma not a period as it implies that conversation between God and humans is an ongoing dialogue. Some feel it starts and ends with the Bible but in my tradition the Bible is part of the discussion but we carry it forward every day in our quest to understand our faith. Rejoice in that struggle.  

I am going to close with a quote. David Letterman once said always begin with a quote or end with one. I tend to listen to Dave, a significant influence on my life. 

I do not believe the quote was made during an Advent service; however, it is rather all encompassing and embracing. I read this (out loud) every week when I come here to do my prayers. It is, for me, an example of living our lives by providing light to others, by rejoicing, and how we can find that within ourselves.

This is a quote from a sermon given by Gretchen Graf. 

“Forgiveness welcomes us all into God’s way of living, but when we ourselves refuse to forgive, we fall back into the world’s way. Entering the empire of Heaven is a process. We get there when we live like we are there. When we love. When we forgive. When we extend compassion and mercy. We create the empire with God when we live like the empire is already here. Forgive and you will be forgiven because when you forgive you understand the forgiveness that’s already, always there waiting for you to receive.”

Rejoice! Rejoice! Rejoice!

- Brad Gibbens

First Sunday in Advent

Reflection

inspired by Cheryl Lindsay, a United Church of Christ writer and editor

Matthew makes the coming of the Son of Man sound like an ominous disaster in this scripture! “Stay Awake – you don’t know when your Lord is coming – and it doesn’t sound good!”

Imagine living your life, going about your daily routine, and being unaware that a seismic change was imminent. That never happens to any of us does it? Well, yes, kind of, all the time! Loved ones die or have manic episodes, or go to jail. My house floods, and floods again, and an entirely different house floods 20 years later!

And speaking of Floods… Matthew has name-dropped Noah in this scripture passage. Noah’s flood had actually happened decades earlier, but would still in the memories of those present. Matthew speaks to an audience who are experiencing a different disaster in their lives. The folks listening to this scripture for the first time had just experienced the destruction of Jerusalem by Roman soldiers.  So, the audience just had their city destroyed – not an easy thing, right? Matthew uses the story of Noah to link that past, to the future coming of the Son of Man, through the present, which was a political mess then, and let’s face it, usually is!  Maybe Matthew was trying to  relate to his audience. He has this great news, but his audience has just experienced the destruction of their city, so they may not be focused on the future. Maybe he makes the coming of the Son of Man sound scary so they will pay more attention.

Jerusalem’s devastation made an example out of Jewish people. It reminded the rest of the empire that Roman power was not to be challenged. It also made folks question their way of life, and the future of Jewish communities in the Roman empire. What was God doing? Was this destruction a punishment? If so, was there forgiveness? How should they live so as to prevent such a terrible thing happening again?
This military-political event was especially difficult for Jesus-followers. They followed one who had been executed on a cross, had been compared to local bandits.  In telling the story of Jesus, Matthew asks: How did followers of one crucified by Rome, like a thief, make their way in a world ruled by Roman power? The present is always difficult to navigate, so let’s set aside the disasters of the past and present for a moment.

Advent invites us to remember and anticipate. It is a season that holds the certainty of the past, and the unknown future, linked together by choices of the present. Your choices of the present moment. Have you ever kayaked, or sailed? There isn’t much cruise control. The waves will push you  one way; the wind will push you another – and then suddenly stop. You have to be alert constantly to those changes – literally, which way the wind is blowing. The decisions of the immediate present – constant course corrections – help you steer your boat. Trying to find the best way forward – while surrounded by swirling wind and conflict – kind of recalls the anticipation of Advent for me. Hope that’s OK to say.

Another, more literal, Advent analogy is preparing for company. Whatever the state of your home at the present moment, when you know company is coming, you see your surroundings with different eyes. You are suddenly alert not only to YOUR needs – and messes -  but what your company may need in the immediate future.  Preparing for someone else’s arrival by putting your own house in order – that sounds like Advent, too, right?

The vision Matthew talks is harsh, but it’s the promise of a reset, a restoration of God’s good creation. Unlike those folks in the days of Noah, or the residents of the destroyed Jerusalem, we do have more power and freedom to participate in creating the future end of our own story.

What if we lived our lives holding past remembrances and future visions in mind as we choose our present actions? What if we believed we could eliminate gun violence? What if we welcomed everyone who has lost a home, or a meal, or family – into our homes? What if we practice to eradicate every unfairness by staying alert to community actions – making as many course corrections as we can? What if we choose to make the possible – probable - by our own actions? Maybe that’s Advent.

BENEDICTION
Go forth with the gift of hope, Guiding you toward the path of peace.
Go forth with the gift of joy, Guiding you toward the path of love.
Go forth with anticipation – being alert for ways to make the possible, the probable.

Twenty-second Sunday after Pentecost

Luke 19:11-27

Often we think the parables of Jesus are about how the world ought to be.  Today’s parable is more about how the world is – or at least how it was in the first century.  There was a harsh and selfish ruler that nobody liked.  He had control over vast land and wealth and many slaves.  When he went on a long trip, he put his slaves in charge.  Some of them did well as managers and some didn’t.  The people of the land wanted a different ruler.  In that day, expressing their displeasure got them executed.

Let’s start with the issue of rulers.  First century folks had no control over who was in charge of their land or lives.  The issue was settled by warfare and the conquering army took control of everything, including enslaving the defeated people.  They maintained control by violence and used it to enrich themselves.  This sounds very different from our own times, especially as we’re in the midst of midterm elections.  We like to think that our vote determines the direction of our country.  We try to match candidates to our values and vote to influence what happens next.  There’s no story in scripture about how a vote matters because in those days there was no vote.  Instead we see in this story what can happen when the people have no say.  We can use that to remind ourselves that we have a great privilege in participating in our government.  Even today not all people have that opportunity.  That’s why churches encourage everyone to vote.  If you haven’t yet, please do.

Then let’s look at the issue of being put in charge of parts of the estate management and wealth.  This story always comes in the lectionary in the fall when churches are doing their stewardship campaigns and asking for pledges for next year.  In our tiny church we’ve left that practice behind and count on our members and supporters to do what they can in financial gifts.  On the other hand, we focus year round on people doing projects that matter to them as the heart of our church life.  In earlier translations instead of speaking of “pounds” left in the hands of the managers the text used the world “talents.”  A talent was a unit of money.  Because we use the word in a different way, understanding it to mean abilities, we often talk about how we put our personal gifts to use when we talk about this parable.  Let’s follow that custom today.

First of all this parable tells us that what we do matters.  The managers who did their best to get a return on investment were rewarded and the one who played it safe was punished.  Is the message to us that faith encourages risks?  There was danger in investing the money the ruler gave his slaves because he was indeed a hard man and his anger was life-threatening.  I suspect that the ones who did well enjoyed the opportunity to use their knowledge and skills and make a profit.  They had no wealth of their own and this was their chance to show what they could do.  Maybe the “lesson” is that we keep trying even in difficult circumstances.

We’re living in a time in our own country when there are at least two very difference visions of what life should be.  We disagree about whether we should look out for ourselves or function as a caring community.  Should people of wealth have all the advantages or should we try to level the economic playing field?  Should education and health care be a right or is it a privilege of success?  Should we welcome people coming from other countries looking for safety and a chance at a better life or should we close our borders and keep what we’ve got for those who are already here?  Should we value diversity and celebrate our variety or is there privilege in being white and straight?  Should we try to overcome the inequities of our past or are those principles inherent in our founding?  These differences are sharp and increasingly threatening violence as we work out who we will be and how we’ll live together.  It’s a great temptation to keep our mouths shut and our heads down and hope that we’ll get by.

Our Justice Conversations group has been reading the book Necessary Risks by Teri McDowell Ott.  Rev. Ott describes the temptation for people of privilege – that’s us -  to enjoy life just the way it is without taking a look at the struggles other face.  She tells stories of her work with incarcerated persons, students of color, and those dealing with gender discrimination.  In each case she encourages us to take the risk to know more about people whose lives differ from ours so that we can use our influence to support a more equitable world.  For most of us taking a risk is uncomfortable.  Unless we’re willing to face into that discomfort, we can’t grow and we can’t be part of creating a better life for everyone.

In our time when we disagree about how society should work, we take a risk by living out our vision and putting our values into action.  We risk alienating some of our friends by the work that we do.  Not everyone understands why these things matter to us.  When we learn about being incarcerated or homeless or hungry, that knowledge leads us to advocate for new policies and programs that get at the root of those problems.  Those positions aren’t always popular, but they are important if we’re going to treat all people with respect – like Jesus did.

This little congregation puts a lot of money where our mouth is.  You are incredibly generous with your gifts to others.  You help with emergency aid to people you’ll never meet.  You reach out to minority communities with aid to make repairs, which is a gift of both money and love in the face of hatred.  We feed people – lots of people in many places.  LaGrave, North Country Food Bank, Christus Rex, Northlands Rescue Mission, Ukraine. 

Sometimes I get discouraged that the need is so great and my effort is pretty small.  I called my Senators and they didn’t reinstate free lunch for all students this year.  I asked them to continue the child tax credit and they didn’t – so we had to help a family this week to make a rent deposit.  It’s hard to keep doing work that matters when the larger system doesn’t seem to care in the same way we do.  Maybe this parable, with all its first century oddness, is meant to encourage us in the twenty-first century.  Not all rulers are just and caring.  But we can take a risk and try to make a difference anyway.  The parable says that those who have something will get more.  I hear that today telling me that those who try hard and do what they can will have some success. When you make a small effort, the results multiply.  This fall I asked for apples and tomatoes and the response was slow coming, but when it came it filled up my garage and my dining room table.  It translated into 23 gallons of spaghetti sauce, 25 gallons of applesauce and 35 apple crisps – which many of you helped make.  That’s not enough to feed everyone who’s hungry in the Grand Cities, but it feeds quite a few.

Maybe this is the message from this story for us today:

You can’t fix the whole world but what you do matters.  Keep up the good work

Reformation Sunday

Luke 19:1-10

Folks who grew up in Sunday School find an old favorite in the story of Zacchaeus – the wee little man who climbed a sycamore tree to see Jesus.  Zacchaeus was a tax collector and so not a favorite with his neighbors in Jericho.  He heard that the new rabbi Jesus was passing through town and went to see what would have been a parade because Jesus traveled with a large group of people.  Others from the village were already there taking the front row places along the route.  Zacchaeus was short, but because he worked for Rome and collected taxes and fees, no one wanted to welcome him or even show him common decency.  He simply couldn’t see over the crowd.  Being somewhat resourceful and very determined, he climbed a tree so he could see over their heads.  And Jesus saw him and invited himself home with Zacchaeus for lunch.

What is the moral of this story? Often it’s phrased something like “even tax collectors and sinners can be saved because of Jesus.”  Or God loves everyone, even the scum of the earth.  We all hear the story and nod our heads over how kind and loving Jesus can be.  We share it as the “good news of the gospel” – Jesus loves even folks as bad as Zacchaeus.

It’s helpful to remind ourselves that when we’re reading Bible stories it’s unlikely that we are the good guys in the story.  We aren’t the ones welcoming even Zacchaeus into the reign of God.  Most of the time I fear we show up in this story as the people of Jericho – astonished that Zacchaeus was worthy of Jesus’ attention.  I was trying to read this story with an open mind this week and noticed some things I hadn’t seen before.  Let’s start with the fact that he hero of this story isn’t Jesus who “saves” Zacchaeus by paying attention to him and encouraging reform.  This story’s hero is Zacchaeus.  He’s the one who had heard about Jesus and wanted to see for himself this reformer.  He’s the one who didn’t push and shove when he was shut out by his neighbors but just climbed a tree.  And he’s the one who turns out to be kind and generous.  Even before Jesus stops, he has a plan that he’s eager to share when he gets a chance.  He’s heard Jesus’ message about caring for others and has decided he can give away half his assets to help those who are poor.  We all assume that because he’s a tax collector, Zacchaeus is a cheat, but the story doesn’t say that.  He says, “IF I’ve cheated anyone I’ll make reparations – returning the overage with interest.”  It’s possible he’s been honest, even though his job gave him a chance to enrich himself by cheating.  He’s willing to double check his records and be sure he’s charged folks fairly.  If there’s an error, he’s going to make it right.  Zacchaeus doesn’t deserve his bad reputation but is a leader in the new movement Jesus is promoting.  He’s going to help the community that’s rejected him.

This story gives us a chance to take a look at assumptions we make about other people and ways that we rush to judgment without cause.   There’s a lot being written these days about how those of us who come from a position of relative privilege are blind to the assumptions we make about how the world works and who has value in it. The people of Jericho missed the kind-hearted neighbor in their midst because he was labeled by his job.  He used the good pay his job gave him to help others – including those who had been mean to him.  Where does that happen in our lives.

This week I was picking up my granddaughter from school and watching the students heading for home while I waited for her.  I noticed that I was surprised by the children of color who were walking home.  “These people live in my neighborhood?” I thought.  I caught myself, realizing that I assumed “they” wouldn’t live near “me”!  I work hard at overcoming racism and negative assumptions, but they work just as hard at sticking in my brain.  I needed to think differently!

This time of year all of our neighborhoods are sprouting political yard signs.  It’s tempting to drive down the street and think that one house belongs to sensible folks voting for great candidates while their neighbors are uniformed and supporting others.  We can’t make judgments about whether or not these are good folks based on their politics – but we do.

When we first started cooking at LaGrave, I was a little intimidated by the fact that these neighbors had lived hard lives and been homeless for a long time.  They seemed rough and sometimes scary.  We were cautioned not to take children to help, and at first that was good advice because there were some bugs needing to be worked out in behaviors.  Now I take my grandkids along to serve and everybody welcomes them.  Folks are healthier and I think of them as friends.  When we were talking with leadership there about menus and budgets, getting ready for them to hire a cook, one top official said to me, “What can it cost to buy a little white bread and bologna?”  I was horrified!  I don’t feed bologna sandwiches to friends who visit for supper and I’m not about to serve them to my friends at LaGrave.  It was a sign of how much we’ve learned in our time there.

Our Tuesday morning book group is reading a Inner Anarchy right now.  Jim Palmer, the author, suggests that the message of Jesus isn’t “God can fix you if you believe in me” but “God has given you the ability to create heaven on earth right now.”  Zacchaeus is a good example of the difference.  Instead of thinking “Jesus made even Zacchaeus okay”  we can think “Zacchaeus had a lot to offer and Jesus helped the community recognize that.”  We’re not waiting for Jesus to fix everything that’s wrong with folks and so create a better world.  Jesus is calling us into community where we can see what everyone has to offer and work together to realize the vision of a better life for all. 

If we’re going to work together to make God’s dream for life real, we’re going to have to start with the way we see each other.  It’s an opportunity to recognize unhelpful assumptions that are getting in the way.  We all have old tapes playing in our heads that tell us people are different or dangerous.  That not everyone can be trusted and not everyone has value.  Those old messages are wrong and the first step in forming a Jesus community is learning to recognize them and set them aside.  Every person has worth.  Jesus helped Zacchaeus make a plan and act on it, bringing his value to light.  The people who follow Jesus today do that same work – treating everyone with respect and dignity and finding ways to let each person shine in his or her own way.  It takes some re-training and lots of practice, but we can do it.  I’d like to think that the next time something important happened in town, people stepped aside and moved Zacchaeus to the front row.  I’d like to think we’d do the same.  Together, we can make it happen.

Twentieth Sunday after Pentecost

Luke 18:9-14

The Pharisee in today’s scripture reminds me of the old song that starts “Lord, it’s hard to be humble when you’re perfect in every way.”  The Pharisee lists off all the good things that he does – fasting, tithing, keeping all the rules.  Those are good things and he should be proud of them.  But he spoils it by saying, “unlike all those nasty folks who…”  It’s not enough for him to do what’s good, he has to be sure we know he’s better than others who aren’t as compliant with the law.

I think it’s consensus that humility is a good thing and Christians are supposed to be humble.  Sometimes we take that too far – that humility requires that we never take credit for good things we do.  Or even beyond that, that we never admit we CAN do good things.  As kids that meant we were taught not to brag.  There’s a difference between bragging and acknowledging our talents.  Every one of us is good at some things.  It’s not helpful to anyone if we pretend we have no skills or natural abilities.  Ask a group to introduce themselves by naming one of their gifts.  There will be a lot of hemming and hawing as we try to overcome that “don’t brag” rule.  We’re a small enough group that we can try that out.  Each one of you can name something you do well.  [If you’re reading this, stop right now and say something you do well out loud.]

How does it feel to speak truth about your gifts?  In the best of all possible worlds, it would feel great.  Hiding our talents doesn’t serve anyone well.  In a group we need folks to own up to what they can do to help.  It gets the right people in the right jobs.  It also keeps the wrong people from having to take on jobs outside their comfort zone.  Everyone benefits when we’re honest about what we like to do and what we do well.  Humility doesn’t require us to pretend we’re incompetent in order to be nice.

The Pharisee in our story isn’t criticized for doing good things.  He’s taken down a notch because he thinks he’s better than everyone else.  This story isn’t about honesty, it’s about judging others as inferior.  That doesn’t help anyone.  If the Pharisee had said, “God I thank you for the opportunity to practice my faith” we wouldn’t be talking about him centuries later.  He’s still getting a bad rap after all these years because he thought what he did well made him better than those who did other things well.  Difference is important to make our community whole.  Some gifts aren’t more valuable than others.  All of them matter.

If you want someone to help you organize a dinner, you want to ask me.  I’m your girl.  If you want art for your wall, you don’t want me anywhere near that project.  It would be a disaster.  But both dinner and art are good parts of life.  One isn’t better than the other.

It’s hard in a time when our country is polarized to remember that each person has important gifts to contribute to the whole.  Even in a conversation when we are coming at an issue in vastly different ways, we get to a better end result if we hear from everyone and consider all angles.  It’s hard to think of those who disagree with our whole view of the world as important, but they have an equally difficult task when they think of us. 

Yesterday we had the first meeting of what may become the Connections group – folks who came together to think about how to make our community and our world better.  We talked about issues that matter to us and problems we’d like to solve.  There were lots of dreams that you’d recognize.  What I heard most often was the hope that we could talk and listen with more open minds.  That we could be in conversation with everyone, not just the folks who agree with us on everything.  It would make community better if we all felt like we mattered, even if we don’t see everything exactly the same way.

Being able to hear each other starts with setting aside the assumption that we’re right and others are wrong.  The Pharisee was a spiritual leader in his town.  What would have happened if he’d stepped up to the tax collector and introduced himself?  What if he’d said, “You have a really hard job.  How is it to be a tax collector?”  Or how about if he’d asked, “I spend a lot of time keeping the rules of our faith.  Do you?  Do they matter to you?  Or do they make your life harder?”  Would the tax collector have felt like he could be honest?  Would he have asked the same questions back, trying to learn about the struggles of being a Pharisee?

Every person has successes and struggles.  It’s easy for us to agree that “walking a mile in someone’s shoes” is a good idea.  But it’s hard to set aside the judgments that come naturally as we look at folks who seem different from us.  Learning to recognize that we view life through a narrow lens and trying to widen the scope of understanding takes practice.

Jesus was always telling people that everyone mattered – rich and poor, employed and beggar, men, women and children.  Maybe the most important thing he’s teaching us is that all people have value.  Before we see what’s wrong or even just what’s different in each other, we need to look for the value.  It’s okay to admit our own value.  It’s great to see the gifts in others.  We can be grateful for what we can contribute and even more grateful for what we receive from friends and even strangers.  Humility isn’t saying we have no worth or nor skills.  It’s realizing that the worth and skills of others is just as important as our own.  That it takes all of us to make the community complete.  And that we have so much to gain from seeing one another with eyes of acceptance and gratitude.

Nineteenth Sunday after Pentecost

Luke 18:1-10

Today’s story is called “the persistent widow.”  I’m thinking about the traditional interpretation of this story:  if you pray long enough and hard enough, God will give in and give you what you want.  There’s an unspoken corollary to that interpretation which says:  if you don’t get what you want, you didn’t pray long enough or hard enough.  I don’t know about you, but my “pray into existence” average isn’t so great.  There are a lot of times I ask for something that doesn’t happen – world peace, the end to addiction, everyone to be healed.  That may be true for you.

Many years ago an older woman was tired of being sick and tired and asked for me to pray for her to die. I did the best I could in a round about way.  The next day I went to see her and she was furious that I had prayed and she was still alive.  Overall, I think that’s probably a good thing.  None of us has a win/lose prayer record that’s perfect.

Overall, I don’t think this interpretation of the story is very helpful and I generally think that Jesus meant to BE helpful, so I wonder if there’s more to the story.  What else might it mean that gives us hope?

I mentioned that this is the story of the persistent widow – a woman who needed an unjust situation fixed and pestered the local judge until he relented and did the right thing.  In her honor today I’m wearing my “persistent” t-shirt.  It’s a reminder of when Elizabeth Warren got in trouble on the floor of the Senate for reading from Coretta Scott King and challenge to the status quo.  Eventually the powers made her stop, but she didn’t stop talking about it and she inspired a lot of folks who want more justice in our country.  I’m not wearing this as a political statement but because I’ve been inspired to be more persistent myself.

I think this story is telling us a couple of things about persistence.  First of all, this woman isn’t pestering God with prayers, she’s pestering the judge who’s supposed to be acting lawfully and isn’t bothered.  She’s dealing with a situation in her life by sticking with her request for justice to the people who have the power to do something about it.  Jesus says her persistence paid off.  I wonder if he’s telling us to keep pestering about things that need to be changed until they are rectified.  The story tells us that persistence is a virtue that can have real life results.

When has that been true for us?  When we’re ill, persistence can lead to healing.  We keep on taking the medicines and doing the PT and putting one foot in front of another and eventually we feel well again.  Not always, but often.

When we’re trying to learn a new skill, persistence leads us to keep practicing.  We through a football or turn a cartwheel or knit a row over and over again until it comes more easily.  Eventually we become good at something that matters to us.

When we want something to be changed, persistence wears down the opposition and inspires the supporters.  When we started cooking for LaGrave on First, we realized that two meals a week wasn’t going to do the trick.  So I asked everyone I could once, twice, over and over until we found enough partners to fill seven nights each week.  When the volunteers got tired, Taylor went to the last legislative session week after week testifying, and they funded a part-time cook to relieve the load.  Persistence paid off and the program is making a difference.

Persistence is why we write school board members and legislators about things that need fixing.  It’s why we complain about potholes and neighborhood weeds.  It’s why we repost on facebook messages that support positive change.  The noisy wheel gets the grease because it squeaks persistently.  We can be noisy wheels when we care enough to keep at it.  Jesus encourages us to do just that.

But being persistent can be discouraging.  There are lots of times when our good vision for the world doesn’t match what’s really happening.  This is election season and folks on all sides of many issues are determined to elect people who think and act like they do.  We’re all going to vote and results aren’t going to be even close to unanimous – because we don’t all see things the same way.  What we think is important differs.  That’s part of living in human community.

I think this story is also telling us that God/faith/hope can give us the strength to keep going when the going is hard.  Certainly Jesus and his disciples were trying to make hard changes in their day.  Clearly Jesus was sustained by prayer.  How?  I wish there was a clear and easy answer.  But he kept at it, so there must be something to it.

If we believe that God is a being, a force, or an energy that is benevolent – that wants what is good for life and the creatures who live it – then when we are working for good, we can believe that God is on our side.  That the lifeforce of the universe wants good things to happen and will lend support and encouragement to them.

We find that support when we work together to accomplish something important.  When we feel good about making a difference.  We find that support when we’re surprised by a word of encouragement.  When someone says “thank you” or “I noticed you cared.”  We find that support when deep within us we pull up a strength we weren’t sure would be there and keep going.  We find that support when a friend or even a stranger gives us a hug.  We find that support when we’re convinced that we’re working in partnership with God and God’s people – even if we don’t all define that in the same way.

Think about the times when persistence has paid off in your life.  When did you do something hard?  When did you accomplish a task that took time and effort?  When did you win a victory that was in doubt?

This story about persistence is telling us at least two things:
Persistence matters
Persistence is possible

When you persist, you never do so alone.

Fifteenth Sunday after Pentecost

Luke 16: 1-13

This scripture lesson is difficult!  How do we make sense of Jesus seeming to tell us to cheat the folks we work for to ensure our own advantage?

This gives us a good chance to review what we know about the gospels and their historical accuracy.  Because these stories were written down decades after they happened and because they depend on the memory of people who weren’t there for the action but only heard those who were there tell about it later, it’s impossible for us to know exactly what Jesus said.  He made no you-tube or tik-tok videos as it happened.  We all remember important events accurately, but no two people remember them exactly the same way.

Scholars then are given the job of figuring out “what really happened” and that’s not actually possible to do.  There are some general rules for thinking about what’s probably original to Jesus and what’s been re-interpreted as the stories were told and retold over the years.  One of those rules is that the most accurate story is the most difficult.  People aren’t likely to make up or re-imagine stories that are hard to understand or exceptionally challenging to the way things work in the world.  This story qualifies on that account.  We aren’t sure what Jesus really meant by praising the employee who seems to have cheated his employer out of debts owed to him and for doing so in order to protect his own future.  The middle part of the reading explains what Jesus meant by talking about being faithful in small matters and large ones.  In the whole scheme of things the explanation is more likely added by folks remembering the teaching than original.  When you’re retelling a confusing tale, you try to make it easier for folks by telling them what you think it means.  The core of this teaching is the story about the employee and debts forgiven and then the final bit “you can’t serve God and wealth.”

If we’re going to understand this story centuries later, we have to remember what we know about wealth (and poverty) in the first century.  This was a time of rich and poor and not much in between.  There were property owners and peasants.  The peasants worked for the owners as farmers or fisher folk or even slaves and barely squeaked by.  The owners inherited their wealth in the form of land and land-based businesses or were given it as a political reward or the spoils of war.  There were a few folks who worked as managers and were able to improve their financial lot, but for the most part you ended life in the same place you started or maybe a little worse off.  There was nothing fair or just or compassionate about the economic system of the times.

It makes sense then that Jesus, who was advocating for everyone being valued and treated fairly, would critique the economic system of his day.  In fact, Jesus talks more about money that almost anything else.  Most of the point is that the rich exploit others for their own advantage rather than sharing equitably with those who were poor, hungry, widowed, disabled or otherwise able to provide for themselves.  

Most of us have been raised in an American mindset that says if you work hard, you’ll get ahead.  If you get a good education or take advantage of business opportunities, you can move up in the financial world.  The reverse of that is that if you’re poor it’s a sign of being lazy or unwilling to try harder.  In this part of the country where many of our families can point to homesteaders who came to claim land and worked incredibly hard to turn prairie into a productive farm, or we can talk about ancestors who started businesses or were the first to go to college and get a job as a teacher or manager, this American myth holds true.  We are the ones who have worked hard and been able to provide for our families.  

In recent years we’ve become more aware that this story doesn’t hold true for many of the people in our country and certainly not for those in developing countries.  It’s simply not true that every person has an equal chance to succeed.  Not everyone gets a good education simply by going to the neighborhood school.  Which neighborhood you live in makes a difference.  Not everyone has access to a good job even if they are willing to work very hard.  Yesterday I was listening to a review of the book Nickled and Dimed which decades ago chronicled how hard it was to make a living if you started out poor.  If the job you can get is cleaning houses or stocking shelves at Walmart or changing oil in cars, you can work even harder than many people and still not make enough to support yourself and your family.  During the pandemic we heard often that the people most exposed to Covid dangers were the ones who worked the hardest and made the least income.  It’s an important reminder that in our time as well as in Jesus’ time economic inequity is real.

Maybe people loved this story from Jesus because he advocated sticking it to the man in charge with the big bucks.  It’s not right that some few folks are rich and the others are vulnerable and hungry.  If you can do a little something to change that, go for it.  Certainly the first followers of Jesus formed communities where those who had wealth shared it and those without were cared for.  When we read The Didache we learned that the community planned ways to help people learn skills and find work so that they could support themselves and contribute to the community.  Our president keeps reminding us that work and dignity are closely related and that it's good for government to help people prepare for and find good jobs.  That’s a first century theme that still works today.

Mainline Christianity in our time is a middle class endeavor.  We think about faith and money from that mindset that’s ingrained within us.  It’s important for us to hear this story Jesus told from the mindset of poor folk, because that’s who first heard it.  It’s important for us to hear this call for equity of opportunity and of wealth, and Jesus implies that the God-message of worth for everyone is more important of the wealth message of get as much as you can.  In our time we’re being challenged to think about what our responsibility is to all people – to everyone who can get an education, learn skills, find work.  To everyone who deserves to eat and be housed and have access to health care regardless of their ability to work.  To everyone who contributes to the good of our whole society in many different ways – and sometimes just by living among us.

People of faith have something to say about economics and human dignity.  It’s not a simple message today just like this story wasn’t a simple message two thousand years ago.  But it’s up to us to have the conversation about wealth and to seriously advocate for equity.  There’s a lot that needs to be improved and we need to be part of that improvement.  We begin by believing that God cares about everyone, and we care more about God than about our personal comfort or amassing assets.  It’s a beginning place.  Let’s see where we go from here.

Fourteenth Sunday after Pentecost

Luke 15:1-10

Today’s stories in Luke are sometimes called the “lost” stories.  We read about the lost sheep and the lost coin.  If we’d keep going, we’d read about the lost son next.  They give us a chance to think together about the experience of being lost or of losing something important to us.

In a religious context what first comes to mind when we say someone is “lost”?  The hymn sings “I once was lost but now I’m found, was blind but now I see.”  In that context “lost” means going the wrong direction, often as in not knowing God’s love or believing in Jesus.  In bygone years the purpose of the church was to “seek and save” the lost – or to convert people to Christianity.  When I think about “lost” in that way I feel hopeless.  Being lost implies we won’t find our way to heaven or know the blessings of life with God.  It’s often paired with being a sinner or doing all the wrong things for the wrong reasons.  It’s a bad thing to be lost.

Sometimes in my life “lost” has been a good thing.  When we lived in Seattle we used to play a game called “let’s get lost.” We’d drive off our usual route and see what new things we could discover.  Some days my kids worried I’d never find our way home, but in a town with one north/south freeway, a big lake and a sound you can’t get permanently lost.  Before we found our way home, we discovered lots of adventures.  That kind of lost opens us up to new opportunities.  It pushes us beyond our comfort zone to learn new things. 

The other day I was lost in a book.  I sat down to read a few pages and came to hours later in love with a new cast of characters and a world I’d never imagined.  Like wandering back roads, getting lost in literature or music or the wonders of nature helps us find the true center of our lives.  It too pushes us to learn and grow.

A less magical kind of lost comes when life throws us curve balls and we temporarily lose our sense of purpose.  We’re feeling “lost” when familiar work or relationships no longer seem to fit.  We have a sense that we should do something new, but it’s not clear what that is.  That kind of lost is one of the most uncomfortable.  If we stick with the feeling and explore where it’s coming from, we can often “find” a new way forward.  We change careers, make new friends, start a new hobby, learn to play an instrument or paint a picture.  Again, being lost can be productive when it challenges us to become more than we’ve been before.

If we think about “lost” in these ways, what does it mean to “find” God?  That too can be a way of growing into our own.  Not because what went before was wrong but because there’s a possibility of much more.  If we think of God as the highest good in life, then finding ourselves more closely aligned with that good opens our hearts to more love.  We gain a sense of purpose and find peace in the ways we belong to God’s community.

If these stories are about being lost, they are also about being the loser.  What is the experience of losing something or someone?  The stories tell us that what is lost has value and so the one who has lost it works hard to find it again.  The shepherd counts the sheep at night and hurries to find the one who’s missing.  The woman counts her coins and turns the house upside down looking for the one she’s short.  Why?  Because they don’t want to be without.  What’s gone begs to be found. 

You and I don’t go looking for things we don’t care about.  When I drop a tissue out on a walk, I just take another.  I don’t retrace my steps looking for the first one.  In my house I sometimes find things I didn’t even know were missing.  I think:  Where did this come from?  How long has it been there?  These aren’t things of great value.  In fact, life goes on just fine without them.  But what about those things we do care about?  The remote to the air conditioner carefully stored away for winter demands a thorough search when the weather turns warm.  I’m looking for my favorite pair of earrings I’ve misplaced recently.  The other day I decided to wash the waste basket and when I dumped out the water, here came a bracelet I’d given up ever finding.  

Losing things can be a nuisance, but other losses are more devastating.  We lose our loved ones to illness or age – or sometimes to careless words or lives that take different paths.  Those losses take our breath away and we wonder if we’ll survive them.  In the course of a life we lose a job or two and wonder if we’ll find another. We sometimes lose our sight, or our mental acuity, or our flexibility.  Most of those things don’t come back.  The sensation of losing can be devastating.

The message I love most about these stories isn’t that we’re lost and in trouble.  I’m not sure that’s true.  I love the fact that God is devastated when God’s thinking the connection with us is gone.  When we’re missing, God throws over everything to find us and to reconnect.  Do you remember the panic you feel when a young child wanders off in a store?  Imagine God caring that much about being with you.  

These stories aren’t about what’s wrong with you, they’re about what’s right:  you are beloved by God.  You are of infinite value.  God would spend your whole lifetime looking for you.  There is nothing God won’t do to find you and to let you know how amazing and important you are.

And here’s one last way to think about these stories of lost and found:  in the infinite realm of God’s love you can’t be lost.  Like a child who thinks Dad is missing when Dad is watching all the time.  Like the mom who follows from a distance so the child can think she walked to school all by herself.  If we feel separated from God, it’s not God who is absent.  The moment we turn and acknowledge God’s presence, God is there for us.  

When I’m feeling snarky and someone asks me if I’ve been “saved” I say no – because I was never lost.  It’s not possible to live outside of God’s presence.  It’s possible to ignore God’s love, but it’s not possible to not BE loved.  God is the air we breathe, the movement of our cells, the pull of the tide and the ground of our being.  God is always in us, around us, between us.

And what is the response when we realize this truth?  Joy!  Our joy; God’s joy; the world’s joy.  The end of the story is rejoicing and celebration. 

Because God is with us and we are always, forever, tightly held in the love of God.