Twelfth Sunday after Pentecost

Ephesians 4:25-5:2

“If there is anything I have learned about men and women, it’s that there’s a deeper spirit of altruism than is ever evident.  Just as the rivers we see are minor compared to the underground streams...the idealism that’s visible is minor compared to what people carry in their hearts unreleased or scarcely released.  Humankind is waiting and longing for those who can accomplish the task of untying what is knotted and bringing these underground waters to the surface.”  (Albert Sweitzer). 

What if our purpose in each generation is to inhabit the human struggle on Earth for what the experience does to us? What if the goal is not progress but embodiment, not advancing knowledge but increasing compassion?  What, then is knotted within us and between us, and how can we unravel the knots?  Despite the harshness of reality, survival of the fittest isn’t the only rule of nature…As humans, we always have a choice to stand on the neck of the fallen or to lift them to their feet.  We can choose whether to dominate and be alone or to cooperate and mate for life. 

-Mark Nepo, Better Together than Alone.

Our scripture passage from Ephesians gives us good advice for living together in community.  Everybody works the best they can.  Those who earn extra, share.  When there are disagreements, you resolve them before bedtime. When you talk about each other, you do so with grace and compassion.  Everyone is kind.  We look out for one another. 

We’ve learned that the earliest followers of Jesus were all about forming compassionate communities.  They gathered in small groups; they ate long meals with conversation between courses; they took care of each other and welcomed those who were traveling through.  These groups stood in intentional contrast to the Empire which controlled their lives.  The Empire was violent and brutal.  In Empire people did whatever it took to get ahead, even if that meant lying, cheating, or betraying those close to you.  Empire looks out for those in power.  Jesus’ people made a choice to turn away from the values of Empire and to live in a different way.  They did so under the radar, simply by living out Jesus’ values of love and compassion in the privacy of their own homes.  They built communities that lived by Jesus’ example.

Many contemporary authors are writing about community these days. Mark Nepo, the author of our second reading, is one of those, calling us to learn how to live together in ways that build everyone up.  In our century the values of community still stand in contrast to the values of our Empire. What is the American dream? To get ahead?  To be a self-made man, taking advantage of the opportunities of the frontier to build a business and a fortune?  To spend a fortune on luxury for yourself and your family?  To do whatever it takes to build a good life for those closest to you?  Many folks are suggesting that this dream has never been a reality and that it doesn’t serve us well anymore.

Alongside our image of the pioneer family staking a claim and becoming real, prosperous Americans stands the also-true reality of homesteads claimed for almost free, transportation on government-subsidized railroads, land grant colleges educating generations, and communities of neighbors looking out for each other, forming schools and churches, sharing tools and labor and more.  America has always been a place where someone could start with almost nothing and get ahead.  It’s never been a place where those people succeeded alone.

Religion has been impacted by the idea of the self-made man.  Much of what goes by the name of Christian today is about the individual getting right with God by agreeing to the doctrine and following the rules set by those in charge.  Agree and you’re in, “saved”; differ and you’re out.  There’s not a lot of compromise or compassion or celebration in any of it.

I’m intrigued by Nepo’s suggestion that we are called to “in habit the struggle of human life” in a way that shapes us.  To “embody” community rather than to meet personal markers of progress.  To become compassion.  When we end worship each week, we sing about being the body of Christ – the actual hands and feet of Jesus among the people of our community.

Let’s take a minute and remind ourselves where we are embodying or inhabiting compassion…

I think it’s true, that when we do more than just volunteer some time or money, but we BECOME compassion and care, we see things differently.  Let’s start with people.  Who do you see with different eyes because of the ways we’re being compassion in our community?

When we connect with people, even people much different from ourselves, with compassion, it changes the way we understand the purpose of community.  It’s not just “us” with resources and “them” with needs, but all of us with a variety of gifts and needs we can meet together.  We become family.  And because we live in a place where it’s possible to impact the way the “empire” works, we can ask for changes that make life better for everyone, not just those with wealth or power.  So, given what we care about and the people we connect with, what changes would we like to see in our piece of the Empire?

I suspect we could write a 900-page document about changes we would like to make, just like some folks have done in Project 2025, but the content of our document would be quite different from that.  It would be different because we begin from a different perspective.  It’s about how we’re connected to everyone and want what’s best for the whole community.  Rather than protecting our advantage, we look for ways to share available resources so that everyone benefits.  We wouldn’t write the program and impose it; we’d invite those impacted to be in conversation about what’s needed.  We wouldn’t decide what the best outcome would be for everyone, we’d ask people what outcome is life-giving to them. 

I’m dreaming of a time when Christianity isn’t a religion, it’s a way to be; a way to live, from the inside out embodying the love of God for every person, every country, every being.  I want those who know God is love to love folks around them, all the folks.  I want those who know the stories of Jesus to practice radical inclusion and abundant hospitality and contagious hope.  I want us to start from “how can we be the presence of Christ in the world?” and move to “what can we do to make life better?” and “how can we think about life in a more holistic and compassionate way?”  I think we’ve made a good beginning.  I look forward to hearing what you think comes next.

Tenth Sunday after Pentecost

John 6:1-14

In our time, when many seem to think that Christianity goes hand in hand with right-wing visions of the world, it is important to remember that there has never been a conservative prophet.  Prophets have never been called to conserve social orders that have stratified inequities of power and privilege and wealth.  Prophets have always been led to change them so all can have access to the fullest fruits of life.

-Obery Hendricks Jr.

The Gospel of John is organized around a series of signs that prove Jesus’ power.  He has been healing, a sign, and great crowds come to see it happen or to have him mend a bad back or a crooked foot.  Jesus and the disciples try to escape, to take a day off.  They climb a mountain to get away from it all, and the people find them. It’s a little like that car insurance commercial where the man finds a secluded, beautiful spot, only to be joined in a few seconds by 100’s of people waiting their turn to see the view.  John tells us in advance that another sign is going to happen.  Jesus asks the disciples, “Where will we buy bread for these folks?”  Did you notice any bakeries on the way here?  How’s the money bag holding out?  The disciples, of course, want none of it.  They want to be alone, not emptying the treasury to feed uninvited guests.  But there’s a young boy who offers loaves and fishes, what fits in his backpack.  And the rest, as they say, is history.

In my lifetime I’ve preached a couple thousand sermons, most of them unremarkable.  But I remember early on preaching about this passage.  I remember because when I was studying in preparation, I had one of those lifechanging insights – a real aha! Moment – that I’ve never forgotten.  Something suggested to me that the sign of this story, the real miracle, isn’t about Jesus taking a bit of food and miraculously multiplying it a thousand-fold.  The real miracle is Jesus, and the little boy determined that what little there was would be enough.  The little boy shares.  Jesus acts like the problem is solved.  They start passing out the food, and little by little other folk start reaching into their backpacks and bringing out a loaf of bread, a dried fish, a handful of figs.  Five thousand people didn’t come out into the countryside for the day with nothing in their bags.  They were prepared to feed themselves.  But when you’re packed into a crowd, nobody wants to be the first to pull out what you tucked away and eat in front of everyone else. It’s likely everyone would have gone hungry because no one wanted to be first.  Except for the little boy.  He was willing to share, and Jesus believed it would be enough.

All my life I’ve believed that there is enough.  People are willing and able to share what they have when someone gets them started.  Every month I remind people that we have a checking account for LaGrave food, and no one ever asks me for money for groceries.  Each one decides they have enough to cover a meal.  We spend a lot of money from our community fund, and it fills up again.  Sometimes when we’ve paid rent for several people, I have to tell a social worker no.  When that happens, another church steps up and needs are met.  Whenever we study the first century groups of Jesus followers, we learn that they fed people who were hungry, gave shelter to travelers, taught skills to people without work.  Following Jesus meant that there would be a way to meet the needs of the day.  There would be enough because each one would give part of what she or he had, food, clothing, time, knowledge, until the need was met.

There’s a lot of talk these days about building our country on Christian principles.  You can call it Christian Nationalism or whatever you want.  I too think we should do everything we do based on the teachings of Jesus, or one of the other great spiritual leaders, because at the heart of their teaching, they mostly say the same thing.

Christian Nationalism seems to be based on rules and on those who have power making rules everyone else must follow.  It’s based on saving what you’ve got so no one else gets it.  These folks want to post the Ten Commandments everywhere (although they tend to follow them selectively).  They want to tell women what medical decisions they can make. They want to tell poor folk that they must work to eat, but not provide public transportation or daycare so they can get to jobs and leave their children in safety.  They want to tell immigrants they aren’t welcome, so no one takes the jobs no one wants anyway.  You can make your own list.  We hear their demands every day in the news.

Here's my simple guideline for whether or not a policy fits the teachings of Jesus:  is it generous and is it joyful?  What’s the sign that Jesus is a great prophet?  He puts on a potluck picnic for 5000 people and gathers up 12 baskets of leftovers.  When people believe there’s enough for everyone, there is enough for everyone and some to spare.  You think that wasn’t a good time?

Obery Hendricks Jr. is a new scholar to me, but he’s spent his life reminding people that Jesus was on the side of the ordinary folks, the poor folks, the sick and disabled, the women and children.  He can do that because it’s true.  Jesus could do that because he stood in a long line of prophets who denounced the rich, the selfish, those who used power to accumulate wealth rather than to serve the people.  God is on the side of the people.  And God has provided enough for everyone to thrive, if we are willing to share and if we trust that what we have will be sufficient.

Family of God Church has a really good time giving away some of what we’ve got.  We feed people – lots of people.  We house people, through our community fund and Pat Moore’s work with Homeless Helpers.  We help people with prescriptions so they can be well.  We help buy phones so people can make appointments and apply for jobs.  We help people with diapers and household supplies.  We plant flowers to make the neighborhood pretty and green beans to share.  It’s a good time!  If we can do it, so can the community.  So can the country.  So can the world. 

Don’t let anyone tell you to be afraid of immigrants.  They are our friends.  Don’t let them tell you to be afraid of spending money on education.  The children are the future.  Don’t let them tell you to be afraid of those who don’t match a preferred color or gender orientation or political party.  Jesus let everyone come.  He fed them all.  He loved them all.  So can we.

Let’s hold the vision of Jesus up against all the policies and promises of those who want to hold power in our nation, and then let’s choose the ones that match.  Is it generous?  Is it joyful?  That’s the way to build a future for everyone.

Eighth Sunday after Pentecost

Romans 12:10-13

The purpose of life is not to be happy.  It is to be useful, to be honorable, to be compassionate, to have it make some difference that you lived and lived well.

-Ralph Waldo Emerson

Today’s conversation is about how the United States, among all the world’s advanced countries, has the highest rate of gun violence, far beyond any other nation except those who are actively at war.  There are no scriptures about gun violence in the Hebrew Bible or the New Testament, because there were no guns when those books were written.  There were any numbers of wars fought with swords and spears and bow and arrow.  In the first century there was a great deal of state sponsored violence meant to keep the Roman Empire entertained and under control.  What we know of Jesus’ teachings were clearly nonviolent.  His followers also found ways to resist empire without violence, even when their Jewish cousins staged armed insurrections in the second century.  Paul’s guidance in today’s reading from Romans suggests ways that they lived together without violence, following very different values.

Talking about gun violence is a hot button issue, often framed in all-or-nothing terms.  Should we have no guns?  Should everyone be armed?  It’s hard to have a conversation about how to keep innocent people safe from shootings and still allow for hunting sports that have been a part of our culture forever.  Today’s speakers come from a group committed to helping us have that conversation in respectful and productive ways:  Mom’s Demand Action for Sensible Gun Control.  I want to introduce you to Cheryl Blller who is going to lead our conversation today.

Cheryl introduced herself as someone who came to Mom’s Demand Action after her nephew’s friends were killed and injured in a school shooting in Spokane, Washington.  Most people involved in the conversation about gun laws that reduce the number of shootings in the United States have and “enough” moment when one more death pushes them to action.  On average there are 120 deaths and 250+ injuries from firearms in the US every day.

Cheryl helped us join in conversation about the complexity of regulating guns to keep people safe and allowing gun sports which are important to many.  There were many suggestions from the congregation of ways we could reduce gun violence.  Then Cheryl shared with us two laws which would significantly decrease the number of deaths:  background checks laws which closed the loopholes for small shops or private sales and red flag laws which allowed law enforcement to remove guns from someone who may be a threat to themselves or others until there can be a hearing to determine when it is safe to return them (if ever).

We started out saying that there isn’t a biblical position on gun control.  There isn’t a single right, faith-filled answer to this situation.  Even though the Bible doesn’t give us a clear answer about guns, it does show us that Jesus communities lived with respect and care for each other.  They practiced the virtues Emerson mentioned:  usefulness, honor, compassion, making a difference.  They worked together to create the best possible situation while at the same time they lived under difficult circumstances.  That might be the most important lesson for us as we wrestle with parts of our world that are broken and think about how to make them better.  Respect, problem-solving, compromise – these are qualities our faith teaches us and we can use them to find a better way.

Seventh Sunday after Pentecost

Galatians 3:27-28

The Work that is Theirs to Do

-Joanna Fontaine Crawford

And the day came when finally they put down their burdens
And said, “That’s enough of that.”
The moment was full of sorrow but also relief
Arms exhausted from carrying the burdens
Of trying to entice, persuade, people to be more
Compassionate, wise
They continued their own work of building a world more just
But were freer, lighter
The responsibility for others’ thoughts was gone
They taught through their actions
For anyone willing to read their lives
You can see them now at work in the daytime
Singing and laughing in the evenings
Ask for their views and they’ll give a mysterious smile
You can join them, you know, but you cannot fight them
For they just continue on their way
Doing the work that is theirs to do
They do not seek your agreement, your approbation
When they encounter an obstacle, they find a way over it
I have never seen people who worked so hard
Look so at peace.

Our reading from Galatians is often quoted by those who want the world to be more equitable and the playing field more level.  It’s an ideal that we know wasn’t achieved by the early Jesus followers, at least so far as the Roman empire goes.  Some scholars suggest that Paul quoted this passage from a baptismal formula.  When people were baptized into a group of Jesus followers, they repeated these words as the ideal for their life together.  And then in their small group, they lived by them.  It didn’t matter what country you came from, if you were enslaved or wealthy, if you were male or female…you interacted as equals and everyone had the same status at your meetings.  It was a beginning of reshaping the world. 

That’s a process we’re still engaged in today.  Roxanne is going to help us think and talk about one part of the process – becoming equals as male and female, or better yet, as human beings of all sorts.  She will help us frame our discussion questions.

In closing I want to lift up our second reading for today.  Trying to reshape the world into a more just and equitable place is hard work.  It’s scary and exhausting.  We’re in the midst of an election cycle where the stakes are incredibly high and the way forward is murky.  We’re learning about Project 2025 which is determined to remake the world by a very different standard, and we’re not sure how to win and what to do if we don’t.  Our reading and our scripture give us the same suggestion – no matter what the world does, live by your vision and your standards.  Just go about being the people we choose to be – just, fair, accepting, valuing everyone.  Maybe we’ll get to make laws and set policies that include and respect everyone.  Maybe we won’t.  At any rate, we get to choose who we are and what we value.  We can be a community that lives by those values. 

One important reminder as we do that – keep love at the center.  Love for God, love for self, love for each other. These are fearful times, but scripture reminds us that love casts out fear.  There’s strength in the quiet determination to hold fast to our values no matter what.  We’re not fighting for what’s right; we’re living by what’s right.  We’re letting our actions be our witness and the example for others.  We hold fast to the idea that love is stronger than fear or hate.  Together we change the world around us simply by being who we are.  In that we can find peace.

Sixth Sunday after Pentecost

Micah 4:1-4

The Christian response to aggression is not revenge and is not one of neutrality, rather it is to challenge evil and injustice with good.  It is choosing to see the image of God in the other, even in our enemy.  This logic of love seeks to engage the humanity of the other and transform an enemy into a friend.  This is the ultimate Christian mandate.

-Richard Rohr

I am in the process of lining up speakers to help us think about justice issues this summer.  July is filling up, today was blank.  So although I’m not an expert on peacemaking and warfare, I have a few decades of reflection about that – perhaps enough to help us have a discussion today.

Our scripture from the prophet Micah envisions all the nations coming to Jerusalem, high on a mountain, to worship at the temple of Israel’s God and to make peace.  There is a lot in the Hebrew scripture about war, in both the books of history and prophecy.  That’s at least partly because Israel was a small, weak nation almost always at war with its neighbors and fighting a civil war which divided it into two nations. The organizing principle of the history books is this:  keep God’s law/win the wars; ignore God’s law/lose the wars.  Kings are pronounced good or bad on that basis.  The prophets who give many calls for justice and keeping God’s way of life predict defeat as the result of disobedience, and they were usually right. Micah tells us there will be a time when not only Israel but all nations will acknowledge God and keep the law, and the result will be peace. That is a beautiful vision for the future, and I’m not sure God’s people have ever believed it applied to them.  My amateur view of history suggests that “God likes you if you win the war” is more of an operative vision for people.  It’s used to justify war for the winners.  The United States has applied this principle for our history, at least until we stopped winning wars. 

Christian theologians, many of whom worked for secular rulers, have over the centuries developed a theory of just war – when it is right to fight and noble to win. We can think about Just war theory ourselves.  Which wars would you say that the United States has been right to fight?

Which ones were a mistake?

I got in significant local trouble on the first anniversary of the destruction of the World Trade Center when I suggested we would only heal from that travesty if we included forgiveness in the response.  I didn’t suggest that we should allow terrorists to destroy property and murder citizens, but that retaliating only proved that their bad opinion of us was justified.  I am naïve enough to believe that there might have been a point when we could have listened to young men becoming terrorists and addressed their desire for a safe home for their families, jobs and education and food, and acknowledged their religious values.  That listening with respect might have turned their hatred into at least tolerance.  Fighting wars in Iraq and Afghanistan only made them hate us more and cost thousands of lives.

Israel finds itself in a similar position now.  A terrible terrorist attack demands some kind of response.  We can’t let people cross a border and murder innocent civilians.  Yet many leaders agree that bombing thousands of civilians to death and maiming many more isn’t going to end the threat from Hamas or other terrorists.  It’s not going to make people forget decades of oppression, the stealing of land for settlements, denying the freedom to travel, to be educated, to work.  What other options are there to resolve the conflict in this place?

Some of us or our family members have been in the military and some have participated in wars.  I wonder how that personal experience shapes their understanding of war and peace…

Let’s read the quote from Richard Rohr again.  Does Rohr have a point or is he an unrealistic dreamer?  What enemies we once had have become friends?  Which ones haven’t?   Is it possible to apply his vision to the war happening now in Ukraine?  Or to the violence in Sudan?

I’m old enough to remember when church folks talked about peace – a lot.  Women’s groups help annual peace banquets and denominations took up offerings.  Even the Rotary Clubs supported international peacemakers and sent young leaders to peace academies.  Now we seldom hear about peace.  Has climate change and poverty pushed it aside?  Have we given up because it’s too complicated?

Rohr talks about “seeking to engage the humanity of the other and transform an enemy into a friend.”  Maybe if we can’t do anything else, we can begin there.

We can begin by treating folks we don’t like with new respect, taking a second look at what makes them human and what God loves in them.

We can begin by learning more about people we’ve rejected – terrorist groups, authoritarian leaders, undocumented immigrants…  Knowing a person’s story can help bring understanding, even if it doesn’t bring agreement.  Even when we still hate the actions or beliefs of another, we can learn not to hate the person.

And we can encourage others to join us in looking more closely at those we fear. There’s a lot of rhetoric in contemporary politics that demonizes the other – the immigrant, the Christian nationalist, the socialist, the person of color, proud boys. If we fear someone, it’s easier to hate them. If we hate, it’s easier to justify harm. Yet we’ve all heard stories of minds and hearts being changed by friendship and respect. Sometimes even beliefs and policies change. We have the capacity to resist those who speak evil of others and to teach ourselves to change the way we ourselves talk about folks. It’s not easy to do. It is important. 

Fifth Sunday after Pentecost

Acts 3:1-10

We have lived our lives by the assumption that what was good for us would be good for the world.  We have been wrong.  We must change our lives so that it will be possible to live by the contrary assumption, that what is good for the world will be good for us.  And that requires that we make the effort to know the world and learn what is good for it.

-Wendell Berry

There are so many healing stories in the Bible we could choose for today’s topic of health care!  I like this one from Acts.  A beggar wants a coin or two to buy bread for the day.  Peter and John have no change to spare, but instead they heal his twisted feet so he can work and feed himself.  Being made well doesn’t just fix his body, it gives him a productive place in society, lets him participate in the community in a new way, and restores his dignity.  In every age health care is about more than medicine.

From the earliest days those who followed Jesus have been healers.  In the first century some used energy healing to perform miracle cures.  In the middle ages monasteries and convents opened the first hospitals and cared for the sick and dying.  In the years of the great missionary movements people traveled the world bringing not just religion but education and health care to far-flung places.  Today my brother-in-law  started 20 years ago as a doctor in a remote clinic and now in that same place he oversees a hospital, a clinic, a TB sanitorium, trains nurses and doctors, funds training for teachers and more.  Faith and health care go hand in hand.

In this first of our summer justice series, Brad Gibbens is going to help us have a conversation about health care.  Brad is the director of the Center for Rural Health at UND where he’s spent decades helping rural communities provide care for their people.  He’s going to help us reflect on that experience and on next steps in health care in our country.

Brad, would you start us off by telling us some things that have improved in the time you’ve been working in healthcare in North Dakota?  What are we doing right?

If you could name just one or two ways we could improve health care in our country, what would you like us to do differently? 

We want these messages to be conversations this summer, and I know you have a question to pose to us for discussion.

As we close this conversation today, I want to bring us back to the Wendell Berry quote for a minute.  Berry suggests that we need to reframe our perspective as we think about the common good. Whether health care is a right or a privilege fits with his reframing.  Health care as a privilege of those with resources benefits us in many ways.  Wealth funds research and brings important advances in knowledge and treatment.  But that system leaves many people out.  Worldwide there are many treatable diseases which go without care.  In our own country those who can’t afford insurance are treated for advanced disease rather than receiving preventive care over a lifetime.  How does seeing health care from a global perspective benefit us as well as others?

Fourth Sunday after Pentecost

Acts 2:44-47

“Don’t ask the mountain to move, just take a pebble each time you visit.” 

-John Paul Lederach

The work of change takes time and commitment, one pebble at a time. …the Hebrew phrase Tikkun Olam means You are here to repair the world….The Jewish understanding is that we repair the world by making the fragmentation of creation whole again.  The work of repairing the world is endless and beautiful.  (Mark Nepo)

I have always loved the description of the earliest communities of Jesus followers from Acts.  They were together, they shared all they had, the took care of one another.  In one way this description is a pipe dream, more of a wish than a reality.  The author of Acts was trying to convince readers that all the earliest communities who sprang up around the Jesus story were unified and coherent.  We’ve learned in the last few years that they were all diverse, believing a variety of things which they lived out in many different ways.  But the theme of caring for one another holds true from one to another. 

When I was younger it always confused me that American churches were so opposed to socialism, because this description sounds like socialism to me – all things in common, each receiving according to need.  There’s no evidence from the first century that this model ever was practiced on a large scale.  It didn’t replace the Roman economic system and become the rule of the day, so it doesn’t describe an economic model adopted by the Jesus folk.  Rather it was implemented across many small communities.  When it says, “All things were held in common,” we’re not talking about joint checking accounts.  Many of these people were enslaved and literally didn’t own themselves.    It must have been true that a few sold properties to fund the needs of others, because there are at least two times that’s mentioned, but there’s no evidence that everyone was pooling resources.

 I think this passage describes not socialism but compassion.  Those with plenty of food fed those with too little.  Those with a place to stay took in travelers.  Those with work trained those without with skills to support themselves.   These are the kinds of things we read about a few years ago when we read The Didache over a summer.  People helped each other get by.  Historians tell us that was common in the first century not just among followers of Jesus, but among many small groups of people – supper clubs, discussion groups, burial societies, trade associations and more.  It was a way to make life easier for everyone and be sure someone had your back.

And it’s surely accurate that these were joyful gatherings – people with common mind enjoying life together.  We know that joy.  Several times this week Victoria and I have shared joyful moments when she wrote a check from the community fund for me to deliver.  Some of you were able to gather at the celebration of World Refugee Day at Town Square.  Yesterday folks gathered in our building for meditation and lunch.  When we connect with one another and help each other, it’s joyful!  That sets the tone for our enterprise this summer as we enter into conversation about how we live more justly in contemporary times.  If we’re going to spend a few weeks talking about how we can care for people better, we need to remember to ground that in joy.  Otherwise, it will overwhelm us.

John Paul Lederach also gives us good advice for this journey – take small bites of big problems.  Lederach is a professor whose specialty is conflict transformation.  His theories suggest that people or groups in conflict need to look not just at a particular problem (like unhoused people in winter) but at the systems that give rise to that problem (like lack of affordable housing or adequate mental health care).  He encourages conversation and creativity and trains groups to find their own solutions rather than have one imposed from an outside authority.  For example, if my awful lawn is causing a neighborhood eyesore, my neighbors can report my weeds to the city, or they can offer to teach me what they are doing to eliminate their own weeds.  Lederach’s goal is world peace, so when he says move a mountain one pebble at a time, he speaks from experience.

This Lederach quote is from a book by Mark Nepo about building community in ways that make our world healthier, and he introduces us to the concept of Tikkun Olam or repairing the world.  This comes from the Jewish tradition and begins with God’s creation.  God has given all creatures a beautiful world to enjoy and to nurture all life.  We share that story with our Jewish ancestors.  But where some Christians see the world as a perfect creation broken by human sin and the solution to that lying in God’s action of salvation, Tikkun Olam sees the world in need of repair because Creation isn’t finished.  God began what was needed, and then placed the world in human hands to continue creating until it comes to perfection.  Lederach would be a part of that creation as he researches ways to make peace.  We are part of that creation when we help our neighbors or plant a garden.

All of these readings today come from the same foundation – the world is better when we work together.  We have resources.  We have knowledge.  We have human connections.  We connect with all creatures.  What if we view life not as a competition for who can get the most, but as an invitation for all to share their best?  Some folks want to define the world as limited and if I don’t get what’s coming to me, I’ll lose out.  It’s a competition for jobs and education and recognition and money.  Others describe the world as sufficient.  There is enough for what everyone needs.  We don’t have to be afraid that if we share, we’ll run out.  We do have to be clear about needs.  That may mean that Elon Musk doesn’t need a $45billion salary.  He may be that much more helpful to the world than we are, but I doubt it.

My hope for this summer is that our sermon time will be a conversation.  Today I’m trying to set some foundation for that, and honestly to give myself time to find folks to help us make those conversations informed and helpful.  But a little conversation is a good thing.  Let’s return to the idea of Tikkun Olam.  It’s similar to our sharing of Light Signs each Sunday.  Let’s spend a few minutes thinking together – how are you repairing the world?  How would you like to repair it?

Pentecost

Acts 2:14-21

Our North Dakota native theologian Marcus Borg once wrote: The Bible is full of many true stories, some of which happened. As many of you know, this is one of my favorite days in the church year, Pentecost, and I very much wish that all of it happened just like the story said. I want God to move the people with wind and fire so that they can't help but rush out and share good news. I want people to hear that news in every language and understand. I want there to be thousands of people converted to following Jesus with one sermon. Heck, I'd settle for two new members a year! Yet the more we learn from scholars about the early church, the more we know that none of it happened just the way Luke tells it in the book of Acts. Does that mean we can't use this story to celebrate? Of course not! Do we not keep the Easter Bunny, the tooth fairy and Santa Claus? We keep them because they make life magical and celebrate great moments in living. And the Pentecost story does the same.

Luke tells the Pentecost story in this particular way because writing 100 years or so after Jesus lived, he wanted to suggest that there is a large, unified movement that we know as the Christian church, which had a single origin. This is how it all began. In part he's right. It began with the conviction of the men and women who followed Jesus that even though he died, he was still with them. Even though Rome executed him, what he taught them made life better and should still be shared. The roots of the church really do lie in the followers of Jesus who were fired up about what he had taught them and wanted to share that good news with others. That part of the story is true.

Our assumption that they then created the Christian church as we know it is not true. No organization, no creeds, no common theology, no Bible, no Sunday school, no ordained preachers who've been to seminary. What they created was small groups of people who gathered to talk about things Jesus taught them, to share how they were putting those principles into action in daily life, and to support one another when life was hard for any one of them. And they ate. They broke bread and honored Jesus like he was still with them because they believed he was. Today we're going to get that part right when we share communion and then take the bread and add it to the potluck meal after worship. That simple act of eating bread together connects us with our spiritual ancestors back 2000 years ago, and that's a big deal. It matters.

What else is true about this story? I don't know if Peter actually gave a sermon and suggested that ancient prophets had looked forward to a day when God's Spirit moved the people to action. All the children prophesying. Young and old seeing visions and dreaming dreams. Even the enslaved, the insignificant in the culture, getting in on the action. I like to think about those claims as all the people fired up about possibilities. In spite of all the evidence of Empire around them, Jesus' followers believed God could change the world, their world. And if they couldn't change the big picture of politicians and occupying armies, of poverty and violence, then they could change the small details of how they lived. And that made a difference. They couldn't make Rome compassionate, but they could love their neighbor and care about each other. They couldn't equalize the economic system, but they could be sure everyone in their group had bread. They couldn't stop senseless executions or even most disease, but they could remember their members who died and give them a decent send-off. The origin story of Christianity is mostly about simple people taking care of each other the best they can as an act of resistance to a society that dehumanizes almost everyone.

Sometimes I get discouraged about the times we live in. There's a lot more war than we want. Just this week I've read about leaders wanting to give Ukraine to the Russians and some suggesting we drop nuclear bombs on Gaza and a report that once again there is mass genocide in the Darfur region of Sudan. Last night there was a young mom holding a sign at the corner of Sam's parking lot as a way to provide for her kids. On a global scale and the smallest scale there's a bunch of stuff broken about how the world works.

I suspect that you and I were raised to believe that because we live in a democracy, we can vote in good people and change the world so it works for everyone. I have a hard time when life proves that's not so much true. I want it to be so. But lately learning about the early church has given me hope. Their world was much harder than ours and there was much less they could do about it. We can and do make a difference on a large scale every once in a while. But even when we don't, we can follow their example and do what we can right here, right now. Every week we feed some folks and pay bills for some folks and that matters. After church we drink tea and coffee and talk about how we are, and that matters. Sometimes we write a letter or make a phone call and impact policy. That matters.

As a congregation we've been working toward a mission statement for a year or more. Who are we, what do we do and why? This week the Council made a commitment to a draft of that statement. First, they agreed our big vision is the words of Chris Gable's song: We're here for good. That sounds a lot like the early church to me. It also sounds like us. Then after lots of words we settled on this mission statement: We share God's light by being progressive servants in our community. We'll print that so we can all try it on for size and live with it a while. Maybe it's captured who we are and what we do. Maybe our why is the same why of the early church - this is God’s work and God is empowering us to do it.

I'll be honest with you, this week the weight of the work the world needs felt heavy to me. I'll bet you have weeks like that, too. So, I'm really glad to remember Pentecost today. I want to believe that the Spirit of God can move in us and through us and give us energy. I look forward to being empowered by good news. I'm excited about a little bit of rushing around telling people that life can be better, even showing people how life can be better. I want to be inspired by the dreams of young people and the wisdom of the old. And I dare to hope that even though 2000 years later there's a lot that's still broken in this world, there's a lot that's better than it used to be and tomorrow it will be better still.

Today is a day to celebrate! Tomorrow is a day to live into the joy of Jesus, creating a world of dreams come true.

Seventh Sunday of Easter

Luke 6:12-16 and Acts 1:15-17, 21-26

A list of names. If I asked you to name off the 12 disciples, how many could you name off? Most of us can name some of them. Not many of us can name all of them. Even if you memorized them in Sunday School or confirmation, not many of us can name all of them. Some of those we hear a lot about, some we hear virtually nothing about. We remember Peter and James and John, and a few others.

How many of you remember anything about Judas, the son of James?

What is in a name? Why list all these names? None of the people listed were people of influence or high standing in their communities of that day. Maybe Luke, the Gospel writer here, wants to simply remember these dozen men. Maybe he wants to get the names out in case the readers of his Gospel know some of them, or some of the families. Maybe it is simply to show us that anyone can be a follower of this Jesus.

The word disciple means a learner. So, if we are learning anything in our lives, we are disciples. The word apostle means one who is sent. There were a bunch of people we followed Jesus. Only 12 of them were set apart to continue the ministry of Jesus.

What is in a name? As the 12 apostles are listed in Luke, qualifiers are listed for some of them. Simon, whom Jesus named Peter, his brother Andrew, James and James the son of Alphaeus. We need to remember that there are 2 named James as well as a second Simon who was called the Zealot. And maybe the most important may be that there is Judas, the son of James and Judas Iscariot. And to be sure we notice the difference; Judas Iscariot is labeled as the one who became a traitor. And Matthias, who replaces Judas Iscariot, has no description of who he is at all, other than he had been following Jesus all along.

What is in a name? We use names for a lot of purposes. Of course we use names to identify people. We also use names to describe people, as we identify them. Like when I say, "this is Nell, my wife." Instead of just saying, "this is Nell." In New Ulm, Minnesota, I often have no name, but am recognized as "Karen's brother". In Cavalier I am often known as Logan and Lincoln's grandpa, or Kari's dad. The name is important, but sometimes we want to add something as a description or title to be sure people really understand who the person is.

What is in a name? All my life, my sisters and I have known that we were Danish. Both of our grandfathers were born in Denmark. The parents of both of our grandmothers were born in Denmark. My sister, Shirley, did a bunch of genealogy searching. She followed, as best she could, the family trees of our grandparents back a few hundred years.

To do that, she needed to follow the names. That was not always easy. Sometimes it was difficult because someone had changed their name, or had a different last name than the parent whose name Shirley was trying to follow. Sometimes the names were just too common.

We found that in many of the old records in Denmark, the people were not just listed by name, but also by occupation. My grandpa Justesen is specifically listed as a farmer. My grandpa Lindorff is specifically listed as a blacksmith. I was in Denmark recently. It was nice to drive through the farmland and picture my grandpa growing up there, farming there, and then coming to Minnesota. And to look at the ocean, a long and narrow and shallow bay, and to think of my grandpa working on ships there, before coming to Minnesota.

Following a name can get us to a person, their family, where they live or lived, what they did. It can tell us a lot about what was important to that person, even what was important to that family. It

can guide us toward a person or place or family. It could make us want to run from or hide from a person or place or family.

Over the years we forget a lot of the details of events that are going on around us. It is good when we have some of those important things recorded, so that we can remember. In that case, a name can be a very important thing in helping us to remember. It is so important to our remembering that we often get frustrated when we can't remember a name.

What's in a name? We have listings of the 12 apostles. We try to honor and remember those names.

Lately we have heard a lot of stories on the news of problems with airplanes. I remember a story of a new passenger plane being introduced. There was a big media event. Lots of media people and local dignitaries were invited to take the first flight on this new plane.

Soon after takeoff the voice of the pilot came over the intercom. "For those of you on the left side of the plane, you might see flames coming out of that engine. But don't worry, we can extinguish the fire. We can easily continue our flight safely". A few minutes later "For those of you sitting by the center aisle you may notice a crack developing that is running down the aisle. No need to worry. We can safely fly with no problem." A few minutes later, "for those of you on the right, you can see flames coming out of the right engine. We can easily extinguish the fire and make it back to the airport." A few minutes later, "For those of you sitting by the aisle, you can see that the crack has become much bigger. You can look through the crack and see the ocean. If you look closely, you can see a small boat. In that boat is someone waving to you. That is me, your pilot. Now is the time to worry."

What is in a name? When the angel appeared to Joseph and told him of the coming birth of Jesus, the angel said that Jesus would be called Emmanuel, which means God with us.

What's in a name? That pilot would never be called "with us".

And Jesus would never be leaving us when a problem is arising. Rather, Jesus is with us.

What's in a name? How will we be remembered? No matter how we are remembered, may we always remember that God is with us.

Amen.

Sixth Sunday of Easter

Matthew 11:2-6

John the Baptizer has been put into prison for offending people in power.  He wants to know that his life’s work has some meaning and that he’s not endangered himself for nothing.  So he sends his disciples to ask Jesus – his cousin, his successor, his friend – to ask, “Are you the One we’ve been expecting, or are we still waiting?”  Are you the one who is going to bring change to this broken world?  Are you the one God uses to overthrow Rome and create a new way of living here?

It would be nice if history recorded Jesus giving a simple yes or no answer to that question.  It would settle a lot of arguments.  Instead Jesus answers with a question:  What are you expecting?  What are you waiting for?  What is it that you think God should do?

He also says, “Take a look around at what’s happening wherever I go:

The blind see; The lame walk; Lepers are cleansed; The deaf hear; The dead are raised;
The wretched of the earth learn that God is on their side.

If this is what you’re expecting, then I’m the one.

This story put me in mind of the story the gospel of Luke tells about the beginning of Jesus’ ministry.  Jesus is attending a gathering of men and is asked to read scripture.  He chooses to read from the prophet Isaiah.

God’s Spirit is on me:
God’s chosen me to preach the Message of good news to the poor,
Sent me to announce pardon to prisoners and recovery of sight to the blind,
To set the burdened and battered free,
To announce, “This is God’s year to act!”

Then Jesus rolls up the scroll, gives it back to the attendant and says, “You’ve just heard Scripture make history.  It came true, just now in this place.”

We often take that to mean Jesus is announcing that he’s the Messiah Isaiah predicted, but maybe it means something more ordinary than that.  Maybe it means Jesus is committing himself to doing those things God wants for the world.  After this day, that’s what he does:  he heals, he teaches, he brings good news to the “burdened and battered.”

I’m in the middle of reading Jim Wallis’ new book False White Gospel, which is a critique of Christian Nationalism (and the politicians who have embraced that).  He summarizes Christian nationalism something like this:  The United States is a Christian nation because God wants it to be.  That means rich white men get all the good stuff because God likes them best.  Then he goes on to explain by many examples that the best information we have about the real Jesus looks nothing like Christian Nationalism.  Wallis would like today’s scripture. It shows Jesus doing what he did best:  taking care of people and encouraging them to take care of each other.

It seems to me that Jesus didn’t say to John’s disciples, “Yes, I’m the one.  God has sent me,” because we aren’t to expect a “one.”  We aren’t waiting for a person, even a person as amazing as Jesus.  God isn’t sending just one person to fix the world.  

• I think that because it’s not God’s job to fix the world.  God didn’t break the world.  Generations of people had a hand in that.  Like your mother always told you:  You have to clean up your own messes.  If we wait for God to fix the world in some mighty action, we’re going to be still waiting.

• I think that because what’s broken in the world isn’t that people aren’t believing in the right person, it’s that they aren’t treating each other well.  Jesus (and a whole lot of amazing Jesus people) show us how to treat one another better.  “Love your neighbor as yourself.”  Believing Jesus is important doesn’t matter much if you don’t also believe what he told you and try to do it.

So if we want to live in a Christian nation – or even a nation in which the values of many great religions have impact – we have to ask the right questions and expect the right things.  Jesus asks if people are getting well.  My Sunday school teachers used to tell me that Jesus could heal people but we can’t because we aren’t God.  That let us off the hook as far as health care and religion goes.  But it seems to me that we shouldn’t abide a world in which it’s okay for some people to be sick because only rich people can afford health care.  Of course some things are beyond modern medicine, but not good preventive care, or regular dental appointments, or equal access to physicians.  If those who are sick aren’t getting well, this isn’t a Christian nation.  And while we’re talking about the poor, let’s ask Jesus if he thinks it’s okay for some people to be hungry because they don’t get paid enough.  Or let’s ask him if he minds that immigrants have to wait months before they are allowed to work when they come to our country.  Or if he agrees that the best spots at the national table should be saved for people who look like us.  Let’s ask the man who said, “The wretched of the earth learn that God is on their side,” if it’s okay that 35,000 people have died in Gaza and those who still live are starving to death.  I wonder if he minds that we’re doing all we can to prevent abortion but nothing to stop rape and incest.  Or to care for children after they’re born.

It seems to me that maybe those who declare we are a Christian nation aren’t expecting that to mean the same things Jesus would mean by it.

And yet, look around.  There are folks who eat because of us.  They are folks who get well because of the care we give them.  There are folks who have hope because we believe in them.  There’s an army of case workers in this community who are on the front lines helping people figure out life and we are backing them up every day.  Through them we are telling lots of folks, “God is on your side.”

Jesus, are you the one?
What do you see?

I see a lot of work that still needs to be done.  I see a lot of expectations that need to change.  And I see a beginning.  I see folks trying hard to be on God’s side and to tell others there’s room for more.  Let’s not wait for another.  Let’s put our support behind the one who has already come and learn from him how to show other’s that God is on their side.

Fourth Sunday of Easter

Song of Solomon 2:10-13

The Thanksgiving Address of the Onondaga People

We are celebrating Earth Day today and our readings reflect that celebration.  This year our Wednesday Kids have been using materials provided by the Jane Goodall Foundation to think about ways they care for the earth and all creatures.  They have made toys and small blankets for cats and dogs at Circle of Friends Humane Society.  They are planning for a small garden of indigenous plants which have healing properties.  In the process they are learning that all creatures are interrelated and we have a responsibility for the health of this complex life system we call Earth.

The Thanksgiving address reminds us of the important ways Native peoples respect the Earth and the gifts we receive from her.  We benefit from their wisdom.  Their ancient practice of using the land for sustenance without owning land individually reflects the deep roots of the Judeo-Christian tradition.  Our oldest spiritual ancestors were nomadic herders who traveled looking for pasture and didn’t own land of their own.  When they were given land allotments, there were rules about allowing tilled land to lie fallow and rest every seven years, and about returning purchased land to its original owner every 70 years.  Custom held that the land was meant to feed everyone, so those who grew crops left the edges of their fields unharvested so those without land could glean grain there and feed themselves.

In our time some people use the biblical creation stories to say God has given Earth and all her resources to humans and therefore we have the right to use all the land, water, oil, or minerals we want, regardless of long-term consequences.  That’s not true to the Bible, to science, or to the good of all creatures.  Humans were entrusted with the care of the first garden on earth, an origin story which promotes the truth that Earth can only care for us if we care for her.  

This Earth Day we’re asked to think about the consequences of the growing use of plastics in our modern culture.  It’s difficult to purchase food without also buying plastic packaging.  Now we learn that microplastics are found in our water and soil, that we are consuming them daily without knowing it, and that the health of humans and all other species is being impacted by them.  The rise of plastic packaging came with the explosion of the use of oil as one of the most basic resources for life.  We often ignore the fact that fossil fuels are a finite resource and can be used up, just as we ignore the fact that their residue in chemicals and plastics may be with our descendants for countless generations.  

So people of faith are asked to be responsible in our use of resources.  That’s been a call in the background for almost all of my life, and still I manage to ignore it more than I pay attention.  It’s easy to agree to the theories of caring for Earth and harder to put principles into action.  I’m by no means an expert at that.  So today, I want us to think together about what Earth Day and Earth Care can mean for us.

First, I’d like to know what you are already doing to preserve the Earth, her creatures and her resources…

Second, I’d like to know what one thing you are going to do next.  As I’ve been thinking about this during the week, I’ve realized that I’m a lazy recycler.  I don’t do a good job of rinsing the cans and containers I put in the recycle bin, and that means most of them end up in the landfill and aren’t recycled.  So I’ve started rinsing before I toss things in the bin.  What will you do this coming week in the effort to care for the Earth?

Earth Day is a good reminder of our responsibility to care for Earth.  Like so many good ideas, one day a year isn’t nearly enough to get the job done.  It’s not easy to use less, to reuse more, and to make the lifestyle changes that have a long-term impact on the health of Earth.  But it’s important.  Together we can encourage each other to do our best.  

Third Sunday of Easter

Matthew 9:9-13

In the first century, tax collectors did dirty work.  The collected hated taxes, they added to the bill to enrich themselves, and they worked for the Roman occupiers.  Three strikes and you’re out!  This coming week our country is going to watch the start of a trial that features an actress in “adult movies” and a Playboy bunny.  I think their career respect in our time matches that of tax collectors in the first century.  Which gives us a sense of the critique Pharisees had with Jesus’ dinner companions.

Add that to the fact that eating a meal was one of the most important cultural experiences of the time.  We eat in restaurants alongside perfect strangers all the time.  But first century folks only invited close friends to dinner.  The food was prepared according to strict Jewish law.  It was served and consumed according to those laws.  Their custom and religious observance made the meal one of the most telling signs of their standing in the community and their purity as adherents of their faith. 

Jesus seems to have been willing to eat with anyone.  In fact, when someone invited him to dinner, he went.  When they invited their friends to meet the travelling teacher, he was glad to see them.  He welcomed the conversation around the table.  He welcomed the people.  There are plenty of examples in scripture where Jesus told people to change their ways.  He was in favor of people keeping the rules and behaving well.  He never said, “Do whatever you feel like, it doesn’t matter.”  But even if you broke the rules and were shunned by the community, Jesus welcomed you.  He would share a meal with you.  To Jesus, people were more important than rules, and even those who behaved badly could be loved into a better way of living.

Those of us who want to be followers of Jesus in this time and place, need to work at being as nonjudgemental as Jesus.  How do we do that?

Let’s start with two words:  should and ought.  How many times have you used these words in the last week?  I should rake the leaves still on the lawn.  I should go to the gym or take a walk.  I should clean the bathroom.  I should stop working for the day.    I ought to lose weight.  I ought to save more money.  I ought to…  What would you add?

When we treat ourselves like folks who can’t do the right thing, it’s no wonder that we see other people in the same light.  People begging on the corners ought to get a job.  People  needing help from the community fund out to be ashamed.  People disagreeing with us about politics ought to wise up.  People dealing with addictions ought to be clean and sober.  There are lots of rules about how life is supposed to work, and folks ought to pay attention to them.

Jesus surely knew that there were lots of ways people could change their habits and their minds and live a better life.  But that didn’t stop him from connecting with them.  He was willing to listen to their stories.  I find that when you hear someone’s story, it’s harder to judge them.  Lots of those stories are hard to hear. 

I was remembering a story when I was thinking about this scripture.  It seems that in some native tribes, when a young person did something wrong, the tribe didn’t immediately punish them.  Instead they surrounded that person and “sang their song back to them until they remembered who they are.”  Who they are is someone who is good, someone with wonderful talents, someone who is valued and loved by the community.  There are lots of reasons to forget who you are.  Anger, disappointment, illness or self doubt can cloud our memory.  How important it is for a community to see the good in each person’s heart and hold that vision until they can see it themselves.

One of the most important things that Jesus did was see the good in each one.  Sometimes the church has suggested that at our core, we are sinners, not good.  We’re destined to mess up.  Jesus never said that.  He believed in everyone – tax collectors and Pharisees.  He believed everyone had something positive to contribute to the community and because he believed it, people could believe it of themselves.  He saw their hearts.  He sang their song.  He called them back to themselves.

I talk to lots of social workers on your behalf these days.  The usually have hard stories to tell me about people who need just a little help to start a new path.  I never hear one of them criticize a person for falling on hard times.  I never hear judgement about a person’s health or choices or need to ask again and again.  They believe in folks.  When they ask, if we have money, we help.  It’s usually a long list of things we’ve done in a week.  The money we give people isn’t often a lot, but it makes a huge difference.  Even more important than the money is the fact that we believe in them.  If a case worker tells us someone needs help, we believe them.  We don’t ask for further verification or remorse or promises of change.  We ask that they have a case worker who can help them learn new skills as appropriate.  But we believe that everyone deserves help.  That’s what it means to be in community. 

There’s a Buddhist practice that teaches people how to overcome judgement or condemnation of others and to extend care to ourselves and all people.  It’s called metta or loving kindness and we’ve used it before in worship.  I’d like us to take a few minutes to remember the practice again.  We want to extend nonjudgemental good wishes, that everyone will have whatever it is that is good for them.

Begin by taking a deep breath, closing your eyes if that’s comfortable, and letting any stress fall away.

Picture yourself and say in your mind:  May I be happy.  May I be whole.  May I have purpose.  May I be at peace.

Now picture someone you love: And now someone you find very difficult to love. And now all people in the world.

It’s easy for judgement to creep into our mind throughout the day, as we drive around, do our work, listen to the news, interact with family.  Next time you notice yourself thinking about another person with criticism, stop just a few seconds and say in your heart:  May you be happy.  May you be at peace.   We can train ourselves to live in this world as Jesus did, and we’ll all be better for it.

Second Sunday of Easter

Matthew 8:1-7

I find it tricky to talk about Jesus and healing, but there are so many stories of how Jesus made people well and whole.  Clearly one of the reasons people were attracted to him was because he cured diseases.  Jesus wasn’t the only traveling healer in his day.  In fact, it seems to have been fairly common.  A big part of becoming Jesus’ disciple was learning how to heal like he healed.  “Faith healing” is strange to us today.  Some churches do practice healing by prayer, but it hasn’t been a part of our traditions.  I think of it in the same way I think of energy healers in our time – those who practice healing touch or Reiki or Qigong.  I don’t understand that either, but I know that sometimes clearing the energy channels of the body allows the body to heal itself.

In the first century the practice of medicine was largely a mystery.  People had knowledge of medicinal herbs, but not an extensive knowledge of how the body worked or what caused illness.  Today we are blessed with extensive knowledge which continues to grow thanks to the work of dedicated researchers.  We have skilled and compassionate people who practice medicine in many forms.  We have diagnostic tests, surgical techniques and medications which no one could have imagined in Jesus’ day.  We may not frequently heal in the same way Jesus did, but many people are continuing the healing work in new and amazing ways.

I’d like to think today about other kinds of healing we experience.  Let’s begin with prayer.  Every Sunday we pray together for lots of people who need some kind of healing in their lives.  Some are physically ill, others deal with addiction or mental illness and still others face the consequences of poor choices or hard circumstances.  Some of those folks get better and many of them don’t.  Regardless of the results, I think we experience healing through our prayers.  They are a way of sharing our concern for others, and in the process we lighten the load of worry we carry for them.  When there doesn’t seem much that we can do to help someone, praying calls on God and all the power of the universe to care as much as we do.  Praying shifts the fear and sadness we feel from our single hearts to the community and to the power that moves through all that is, and in the process we can find peace.  We can come around to the point where we’re able to see some good even in the hardest situations.  We are more at peace, and from that peace we can better support those we pray for.  I call this a healing that doesn’t depend on a cure.

Then there’s the healing that comes from belonging to a people or a place and being loved and included just as we are.  Thursday night we heard stories of some of our gay and lesbian friends about what it means to feel whole and at peace with who you are and welcomed because you are you.  It’s part of the process of many more churches in our towns becoming intentionally welcoming of all people.  We’ll be glad when they catch up with us!  Belonging isn’t just about acceptance of gender identity.  It’s about all people being whole people.  Belonging is being loved by the community with all our individual quirks – our passions and our fears, our abilities and our weaknesses.  Belonging is about support for what you want to do and for what you don’t want to do.  For what you think when you agree with everyone and when you don’t.  If we’re building a healing community that follows Jesus, everyone is accepted.

Healing is also about folks believing you can change.  I want to be accepted just the way I am AND I want people to care about me enough to expect me to get better.  That may mean overcoming addiction to drugs, alcohol, gambling or food.  It may mean understanding the world in a more humane way, giving up some prejudice or intolerance.  It may mean becoming more helpful or less helpful.  It might mean getting more serious or lightening up.  Taking more risks or fewer of them. Community is a place where each one of us can grow.  Growth is healing, and so is the support system that nourishes that growth.

This congregation is an instrument of healing in this community. 

We make quilts for families whose loved ones are at the end of life in Valley Memorial Homes.  We never know who receives those quilts, but they know someone cares enough about them to wrap them up in beautiful fabric that took a lot of time and effort. 

We make food.  We feed students and watch them begin to feel at home far from home.  Over the school year international students relax into a new culture, learn a little more English, see a familiar face who is genuinely glad to see them week to week.  Students missing family see grandmas and grandpas behind the serving counter, asking how the day is going.  Hospitality is healing.

We feed people at LaGrave.  Sometimes we feed people who are too ill to feed themselves.  Sometimes we feed folks who haven’t taken their meds and can hardly decide if they want our food or not.  Sometimes we feed people who cook better than we do but like having a friend to share the meal.  Over time we’ve watched people come and go, face trauma and get better.  Good nutrition and consistent friendship are healing to body and soul.

We are healing when we help people in a jam without criticism or judgment.  In the last year or so we’ve bought lots of bus passes and gas cards, fixed brakes, bought tires, replaced batteries, repaired bicycles.  We’ve paid off back rent and utility bills and put down rent deposits.  We’ve bought coats for kids and adults and dry socks and underwear for toddlers. Most of these folks don’t know who we are.  Many of them are grateful.  Not once do we say, “You shouldn’t need this.”  “You should plan better.”  “You should be more careful.”  We make sure everyone we help has a case worker who can teach them coping skills when it’s appropriate, and we provide what they need without judgment. 

None of these things is as amazing as Jesus’ healing folks with miracles, but I think they are as much a part of what Jesus would do to heal the world.  They let people know that they aren’t alone.  They say as clearly as we know how that every person matters and everyone deserves a fair chance at life.  When people are in need, they need a community to surround them and care for them.  When they get better, they need a chance to help the next person.

All these things are important ways that Jesus is healing the world through us.  In the process, we too are made whole.

Easter Sunday

Mark 16:1-8

Each year we choose which version of the Easter story we will read from among the four Gospels in our Bibles.  We don’t often choose this story from Mark.  It was the first of the stories to be written down and it is the most abrupt.  It has more of what happened and less of what it means than the others.  Even so, it was probably written fifty years or more “after the fact.”  It’s based on the oral traditions shared among Jesus’ followers and it will have been shaped by the telling and re-telling of the story over time.  That means it gives us the remembered facts of the event shaped by how two generations of followers saw its importance.  It’s both a recording of an event and an experience of living in light of that event.  Both are helpful to us as we receive the story and understand it in our own lived experience.

Mark tells us that resurrection was both amazing and terrifying.  The women went to the tomb expecting to mourn Jesus’ death by giving him a proper burial.  They were going to pack spices around the body and wrap it so that it could decompose with dignity in the tomb.  They would shed tears and tell stories and grieve together as they worked.  Instead they find an open tomb, a missing body, and a young man that tells them Jesus has left and will meet them in Galilee. 

We have been conditioned by a lifetime of hearing this story to hear it as cause for celebration.  That it certainly is!  But I also want us to acknowledge that nobody celebrated that first Easter in any way like we celebrate today. What had happened was simply unbelievable.  Crucified bodies don’t stand up and leave the grave.  Yet his followers were told Jesus has done just that.  That he was alive.  That he expected them to keep going with the movement he began.  These people had just watched their beloved leader endure a horrible death at the hands of Roman authorities.  They were in shock.  Then here is another shock, just as jolting, even if the news is good.  If nothing else, Jesus’ followers were real people, and real people don’t make that many u-turns in life on a moment’s notice. 

Which is to say on the first Easter and the almost 2000th Easter, resurrection is a process.  It takes time to find life in the midst of death and destruction.  Resurrection is about finding life in the midst of death.  Yes, it’s about something that happened to Jesus.  AND it’s about how his followers figured out what it meant in their time and through the ages.  Easter may be about celebrating Jesus rising from the dead, but resurrection is about all of us rising from the deaths of ordinary living and finding new life and hope on the other side.

Jesus’ death was real and ugly.  Even though thousands of people were crucified by Empire in those days, it was never easy.  His followers were devasted when they watched him die and surely terrified that they would be next.  That fear and anguish isn’t going to be wiped away by a young man saying, “He’s raised.”  That’s a lot to process and it takes time.  Thankfully, no one we know and love is going to be crucified, but even  the calmest most expected death in old age is gut wrenching.  We are never the same after each one we love dies.  Yet there is also a resurrection.  There is a healing of grief that comes with time.  There are memories to share which eventually give us joy.  There is a sense that life can be good again and that our loved ones, although gone, are still with us.  We believe that in a new way they live.

I think of the refugees we’ve come to know this year who are celebrating Easter in North Dakota for the first time.  Surely they have known fear and danger or they wouldn’t be here.  They have loved ones still in danger with no guarantee that they will find safety.  They must know some very bad days as they adapt to a new climate, a new language, find jobs which are much different from before.  Yet I think most of them a grateful for this new life.  They have found their own resiliency as they adapt to this new home.  They have made new friends and see that strangers can accept them and offer support and encouragement.  These families are surely still in the process in making the many transitions that are required of them, but they see hope and resurrection beginning.

Tonight we’ll serve Easter dinner at LaGrave on First.  In five years of serving meals there we’ve become friends with many of the residents.  Those who came first came from decades of living without shelter.  They had to learn again what it meant to have a reliable home. They had to learn to trust each other and us.  Some of them came from living death, from the clutches of addiction, from the trauma of unmedicated mental disease.  Many of them still struggle to find health.  But today LaGrave represents hope to me.  People have found stability, health care, work, and family.  I’m glad we get to celebrate Easter by serving dinner there, because it’s a daily sign of resurrection in our community.

The first generations of Jesus’ followers lived in difficult times.  The Pax Romana or peace within Rome was maintained by constant warfare to extend the boundaries of Empire and violence to control slaves and conquered peoples.  Many followers were themselves slaves.  Many struggled to feed themselves and their families.  It was a hard time to be alive.  They coped by forming communities of friends and sharing the teachings of Jesus with each other.  They learned from Jesus how to live with dignity, compassion and hope in any circumstances.  It was a process of shaping a life by life-giving values, supported by those who cared.  They talked about Jesus’ resurrection and about their own resurrections, finding life in the midst of forces of despair.

I want to affirm to you who follow Jesus in this moment in history, Resurrection is real.  Jesus’ death was not the end of his ministry, but the beginning of his movement.  His followers then were convinced that he was still alive, teaching them and encouraging them to create the reign of God in their time and place.  His followers today are convinced that he is still alive, teaching us and encouraging us to create the reign of God in our time and place. 

In our own lives we face moments of discouragement, illness, broken dreams, but we never face them alone.  We believe Jesus is with us, and the community of Jesus is with us.  In every hardship, there is hope.  After every dark day, there comes a dawn – a new beginning, a new possibility, a new friendship, a new opportunity.  Each sign of new life is a resurrection and all of them are real. If you aren’t seeing that now, we’re here for you.  We’ll hold hope for you until you can hold it for yourself.  We’ll walk with you until your path is clearer.  We believe in Resurrection – for Jesus, for our community, and for you. 

Palm Sunday

Mark 11:1-11

I think this is my 49th Palm Sunday sermon.  The story of Jesus entering Jerusalem, welcomed by people who had heard rumors of his teaching and his healing is a great story.  It’s certainly worth reading every year.  Besides that, it calls us to celebration about how important Jesus still is in our lives.  We like celebrations.  Waving palm branches makes us feel young again. It honors the fact that we’ve signed on to something important.  It’s a good thing.

If you’re going to preach about something 49 times it has to mean something.  So I ask myself, “Why does this matter?”  In order to answer that question, we have to ask, “Why did it matter to the people who first remembered it and to those who wrote it down a couple of generations later?”  It’s a fun story to remember, and it certainly was part of what drew enough attention from the authorities to get Jesus executed.  But it has to be more than just the explanation of why Jesus was in trouble for every gospel writer to include it in their stories.

In the past few years scholars have suggested that this story is more than just an event.  It takes on mythological dimensions in the context of Passover week in Rome.  We’ve talked before about how Jesus is riding into Jerusalem from the east on a donkey, a symbol of peace, about the same time Roman legions are marching into Rome from the west, leaders on war horses, to keep peace by threatening violence as the crowds gathered for the Passover celebration.  It’s a stark contrast between peace and war.

We’ve also learned that the earliest Jesus followers formed communities of support to help them deal with the violence of their era during Rome’s conquering of most of their world.  They gathered together, shared meals and conversation, and talked about living in Jesus’ way as an antidote to the horrors of their daily lives.  If this story is about the contrast between Rome’s control of life through violence and Jesus’ way, what are some of the principles it would have represented to his early followers?  What can we lift up and apply to our world today?

Jesus honored everyone and treated them with dignity and respect.  We see him hanging out with the peasants who were his people, his neighbors for his whole life.  Fisherfolk and farmers.  We also see him welcoming women, who were almost always separate from whatever important was happening in the world.  He broke with custom to speak directly to women he didn’t know, and we are told that some women traveled with his band.  They were disciples. Jesus healed those who were ostracized from the villages because of illness – beggars, lepers, the mentally ill and more.   Jesus is often criticized for befriending tax collectors, representatives of the hated government.  We love the story of how he helped Zacchaeus turn his life around.  Leaders of the religious community came to talk theology with Jesus.  He challenged them to use their power and influence to help people rather than to make life harder for them.  Some of them also became disciples.  Jesus tells us that the whole of the law people can live by is love God, love your neighbor, love yourself.  In a world where it’s popular to emphasize difference and separation, to fear those who are strangers, Jesus gives us a new basis for community.  He asks us to look for our common humanity with all people and to treat everyone like a friend.  He often disagreed with some influential people; he challenged their thoughts and actions; he did so respectfully.

Jesus advocated for economic equality and generosity.  One of Jesus’ critiques of his own society was the heavy economic burden carried by the poor.  The peasants eked out a subsistence living because most of what they produced went to wealthy land owners.  Fishers owed a portion of every catch to Rome, who owned the waters.  Slaves worked for food.  The 1% lived in luxury.  Their life expectancy was double that of ordinary folk.  Jesus fed people and told those who had something to share with those who lacked basic necessities.  The Jewish people were used to the concept of owing a tithe of their crops and livestock to the Temple to support the priesthood.  It was an obligation.  But Jesus isn’t asking people to feel obligated to share what they have.  It wasn’t a requirement, it was a way of supporting each other.  If you have two coats, share one because you can.  The community that formed became its own safety net.  If you share now, when you are in need, someone else will share with you.  It’s like when we feed LaGrave or Christus Rex or when we use the community fund to help those who have no where else to turn.  We do it because we can, not because we’re forced to.

When that principle of community comes into our century, it doesn't look like putting everyone on welfare, as some assume.  It looks like economic equity.  Labor unions advocating for a fair wage for workers.  A minimum wage that actually covers expenses for those who work a 40 hour week.  For a few months our country had a child tax credit that lifted millions of children out of poverty.  Then we let it go.  Giving children the security of a place to live and enough food to eat is an investment in the future for all of us.  When children thrive, they become adults who contribute their abilities to us all.  It’s good that we help those who are in urgent need, but it would be even better if we advocated for policies that meant no one was one illness away from poverty. 

Jesus called for peace in the face of violence.  One of his best-known teachings is to turn the other cheek.  Remember he lived in a time when no one could fight a Roman soldier and win.  Everyone was at the mercy of their bullying.  But to turn the other cheek gives dignity to the one struck.  It gives control.  And it de-escalates the situation.  When the Empire is always at war, living in peace is an act of defiance.  It challenges violence.

Standing for peace in the 21st century is complicated.  I called Senator Hoeven’s office and asked for funding for Ukraine as a way of bringing peace.  My friend there suggested that billions of dollars in armaments was an odd way of peacemaking.  He’s right.  How do we stand up to aggressors without violating our commitment to peace?  Maybe it’s giving Israel defensive armaments and insisting they end the destruction of Gaza.  Maybe it’s negotiating a two-state solution.  Or a nuclear deal with Iran.  Maybe it’s choosing not to be the largest manufacturer of arms in the world.  Maybe it’s ending the threat of gun violence in our schools.  Maybe it’s learning how to talk with people whose politics differ from ours with respect.

Palm Sunday is a celebration about Jesus standing up to Rome and showing people a better way to live.  We get to decide what that means today.  And then we get to work together to make it happen.

Fourth Sunday of Lent

Matthew 7:24-26

I want to remind us about where we are in the sermon enterprise right now. Last summer/fall we "read" After Jesus: Before Christianity over several months. Through that we learned that the earliest Jesus communities (in the first two centuries) were a diverse and loosely related number of small groups who lived by Jesus' teachings in a variety of ways. Their common focus, which they lived out with endless variation, was how Jesus' vision for the world made their own lives better when they put it into practice. As we finished that, I began to wonder: if we put Jesus' teachings into practice in our century, what would that look like? Which led me to the question: What did Jesus teach? What were the principles and practices that the first followers remembered and tried to implement?

We've been hanging out since then in the Gospel according to Matthew because it's the source of what's called The Sermon on the Mount, which is a collection of what people remembered about Jesus' teachings gathered into a single literary device- a sermon. They were written down two generations after Jesus died, so by the time they were gathered, they had already withstood the test of time. If we assume that a preacher tells you what he or she really wants you to know or do, then The Sermon on the Mount become what early followers thought Jesus really wanted them to know and especially do.

I'm finding the teachings a little repetitious. Jesus wants us to love God by loving one another. He admonishes us to feed and clothe people, to share resources fairly, to be just and inclusive and compassionate and merciful. This doesn't seem to me like rocket science and it makes me wonder why in 2000 years we haven't come much closer to making it the heart of our society than when he first suggested it. In fact, global culture as a whole may be further away from this vision of life than the small groups who hid themselves in plain sight and tried to help each other live good lives.

Let's remind ourselves that these early Jesus folk weren't about creating a new religion or reforming an old religion. They were about making life better for themselves and others. Their faith didn't focus on what they believed so much as what they did with and for one another. They trusted the teachings of Jesus to describe a better way of living and they trusted each other to put those teachings into practice.

Today's scripture says that those teachings are rock solid. If you build your life on their foundation, it will be strong. It will support you through the storms of life. You can rely on it.

This week I read a new novel by Kristin Hanna, The Women, which tells about the Vietnam war and the experiences of the women who volunteered as nurses there. It's a tough read because that was a terrible war. It mangled bodies and it mangled psyches. It took a long time for our country to honor the people who fought the first war we lost in our history. Reading the novel, I was reminded of those times- my high school and college years.  It was about war and it was about protests at home. Some of those protests against the war were made by those who had fought it. It was tangled up with the civil rights movement and the protests and riots of people standing up for racial justice. It was the beginning of the women's movement as women proved they had important knowledge and skill and wanted to be able to use it.

As I read I wondered about all those movements which had a vision for a better world. What happened to them? I remember when church meetings passed resolutions calling for racial equity and women's gatherings called for peace. I remember when our government worked to increase justice and not roll back rights. It made me nostalgic for that time, and sad that we quit too soon. was tempted to be discouraged.

Then I remembered that the earliest Jesus followers had no illusions that they could change their world. They had no political power. They were just keeping their heads down and trying not to be noticed. And they were doing what they could to live like Jesus.

This week I took one of our refugee friends to Spectra Health for an eye exam. While I was there, several staff people were helping a man who had come in from the street. He needed help with a housing issue. He didn't have an appointment. They called him by name. They adjusted their schedules so he could see the most knowledgeable folks for his situation. They were kind and respectful. They treated him like Jesus would have treated him.

I was still waiting when I got a call from a school social worker about a young man who needed to move out of his home. He couldn't get into an apartment until Monday. Would we pay for a hotel for the weekend? Of course we would! The next day she called to say we wouldn't be needed. One of his friends' families invited him to stay with them. They welcomed him.

I realized about that same time that I was going to be late to take another friend to work. I called my daughter and she stepped up to that plate. I double scheduled the refugee appointments needed for this coming week. One text and someone had taken half of that load.

Wednesday Kids are thinking about ways to help the earth and our community. We have 3 families involved in the program. Every one of them has a parent or a friend who knows how to plant for pollinators, native plants or medicinal herbs. They gave Mary the right website to learn what the kids needed to know. They offered to come next time and share knowledge.

Thinking about all these things in just one week, I realized that public movements may be quiet right now, but there's a lot happening to shape the world by Jesus' vision. People are kind and respectful, willing to help a stranger, acting on strong principles of community.  People are remaking the world on purpose by the way they live.  Surely if we are surrounded by so many examples of good, the vision of Jesus is being made real today.

Third Sunday in Lent

Matthew 7:12

In everything, do to others as you would have them do to you, for this is the Law and the Prophets.

Several years ago I led the memorial service for the annual district convention of Rotarians in our area.  The Rotary Four-Way Test (used to make decisions in business and all of life) is this:

1.  Is it the truth?

2. Is it fair to all concerned?

3. Will it build good will and better friendships?

4. Will it be beneficial to all concerned?

Rotarians pride themselves in living by that standard.  I think you can see how it reflects the guide Jesus gave for living:  do unto others as you would have them to do you.  As part of that service, I did a little research and found a similar saying in virtually every religion.  Not just Christianity, but also Judaism, Islam, Buddhism, Hinduism, Jainism, the Tao, many Native religions…all tell their followers to treat other people in the way they want to be treated.

Since the whole world thinks this is a good idea, we should give some attention to how that happens and what it looks like.  If you’re in worship to hear this sermon, you’re about to be invited to help write it.  If you’re reading at home, please stop a bit to think about these questions:

• How do you want to be treated?  What does it look and feel like to be treated that way? Respect?  Compassion?  Freedom?  Appreciation?  Like a treasure?

• How do you treat people in the same way?  What are some examples of ways that you’ve extended the same consideration to others that you want for yourselves? In the way you treat your children & grandchildren?  Those who need some help?  Those you work with?  Those of another political party?  Those who are new to our country?  Those whose values or actions are different from you own?

• What about our world would be different if we were all living by this “golden rule?”  In politics?  In the way we spend the government budget?  In the way we teach our children?  In the way we do health care?  In the way we incarcerate prisoners?  In the way we treat addiction?

Many times we talk about the possibilities of the Golden Rule as Impossibilities.  It’s a great idea, but no one can really do it.  I suspect that lets us off the hook before we even try.  If we can’t get it right, no one can blame us for not trying.  It also shifts what we expect of others.  Of course politicians look out for themselves.  Of course teachers or nurses or plumbers are going to be tired and cranky; they have a tough job.  If people aren’t nice to me, I don’t have to be nice in response.  The world is tougher than any sissy idea.  

Maybe this kind, respectful, ennobling idea is tougher than the world.  Maybe if we held ourselves and one another accountable to it, life would be better for everyone.  Maybe trying and messing up isn’t as sad as not trying at all.  Isn’t it the musical South Pacific the place where they sing about being cockeyed optimists?  If every religion in the world believes that people should treat one another well, then that’s a universal call to cockeyed optimism.  If everyone believes it’s important, then maybe it’s time to believe it’s possible.  Or at least to try.

Second Sunday in Lent

Matthew 7:7-11 

 “Ask and it will be given to you; search, and you will find; knock, and the door will be opened for you.”  What a comforting scripture!  No matter what happens, God will take care of us.   

Let’s talk first about the ways this scripture isn’t true and just get that out of the way… Two sports teams playing each other both pray to win – and one loses. A family facing homelessness prays for a miracle – and doesn’t get one. A little girl praying for a pony – goes without. 

Praying for something we want is no guarantee that God is going to bend the arcs of time and space to give it to us.  I wish I could tell you that God is micromanaging the universe and our lives and nothing bad is ever going to happen.  We all know that’s not true. 

At the same time, we hear about double blind experiments with prayer and healing that demonstrates the people prayed for when they are ill do better than those who are not prayed for, even when they don’t know the prayers are happening.  Every one of us has stories of prayers answered.  My favorite is from 50 years ago when my pastor’s wife prayed for a ham to feed visiting missionaries and received 3 hams in 24 hours from people who dropped them off at her door. So how do we understand why sometimes prayers seem to be answered and other times they don’t?  (Right about now I’m wishing I hadn’t decided to preach this sermon.) 

Let’s talk first about what I don’t think is true: If you pray and get what you want, God likes you better than other people. If you pray and don’t get what you want, God is angry with you or punishing you. 

Too often people think about prayer as a guarantee.  Today’s scripture certainly implies that it is.  So when prayers appear to go unanswered, we wonder what’s wrong with us.  Not enough faith? Not enough sincerity? Not enough good works stored up to earn a reward?  I suppose that blaming ourselves for unanswered prayers is safer than blaming God.  After all, if it’s God’s fault that prayers aren’t answered even when they are heart-felt and important, then maybe God isn’t love or God is petty and pays people back for unintentional slights.  There are so many rabbit holes to fall into when we start thinking about prayer.   

This scripture helps us avoid one of them by clearly saying the bad stuff doesn’t come from God.  A child asking for fish won’t be given a snake.  You may not be healed, but the illness doesn’t come from God.  Your country may not avoid war, but God isn’t the one dropping the bombs.  It’s common for some people to say that disasters are God’s judgment – a hurricane for New Orleans because they like to party.  Let’s just say that isn’t so.  

Then let’s back up a bit.  What if the benefit of prayer isn’t getting what you ask for?  What if God isn’t Santa Claus, delivering toys to everyone all at the same time?  We seem to live with the fact that we don’t always get what we ask for at Christmas time.  We ask for a pony and we get a new basketball, and we’re okay with that.  What are the things about prayer that can be satisfying if not magical? 

One of the hard parts about this scripture is that it’s focused on material things.  In my experience, the best parts of prayer aren’t getting a reward.  The best part of prayer is a feeling of connection – someone to listen and care.  When praying is pouring our hearts out over something hard, it helps to feel like we are heard.  That it actually matters to someone how we feel, how scared we are or how sad.  There have been times in my life that I’ve really felt comforted by prayer – like climbing into a parent’s lap and being held close.  That feeling gets reinforced when flesh and blood people also listen and care.  One author calls that “God with skin on.”  Sometimes people are an answer to prayer. 

When I was working up to this sermon, I saw a quote from Kierkegaard on Facebook: The function of prayer is not to influence God, but rather to change the nature of the one who prays. 

In that case prayer functions very much like meditation.  It helps us clarify what it is that’s happening to us.  We get in touch with fear or anger or confusion.  We notice what it is in our lives that’s broken.  A loved one who is ill, a job that isn’t working, a pet that’s missing, a war about to start.  Having named what it is that’s wrong, we are better able to live with the problem.  It becomes less overwhelming when we understand it.  We can put a little space around it and then begin to find ways to manage it.  We can request a second opinion from a doctor.  We can look for a new job.  We can ask for help from a friend who listens well.  The problem doesn’t disappear, but our ability to deal with it shifts a bit.  That too is an answer to prayer. 

I no longer think of prayer as God on speed dial, ready to hear what’s up in my life and fix it for me.  Instead I think of God as the energy that permeates all that is, the vibration of life in every cell and particle of the universe.  That God is always present within and around.  That God connects me to everything that is – all people, all creatures, the earth and all that’s beyond.  I’m convinced that this God energy is, as Jesus told us, Love.  It is benevolent.  It wants everything to be Good – as the creation story tells us.  God said it was good. 

Prayer then becomes connecting with the energy of Love that wants what is best for all life.  Physicists tell us that a scientist can change the results of an experiment by the thought they hold about what will happen.  Expect a particle, see a particle; expect a wave, see a wave.  If that’s true, then surely we can change the reality of our lives by the way that we think about them.  Our positive energy connects across space and time to impact others.  That connection gives us strength and hope.  Two teams about to play a football game each pray to win.  And the energy of the universe helps every player do their best, the teams to work together, to capitalize on opportunities, to use skill.  One team wins and another loses, but the game is a good thing.  Someone we love is ill and we pray for healing.  Doctors and other caregivers do their best.  They use medicines developed to be helpful.  Sometimes our loved one gets better.  Sometimes they don’t because every life ends at some point.  But in the meantime there are good moments, times of connection, words spoken, memories shared, love expressed.  All those connections can be holy.  They speak of a love greater than any one of us and all of us. 

I no longer believe that God fixes the world for us when we pray.  But I do believe that the love that connects us all is activated by our attention.  That it matters when we hold a friend in loving thought when they are struggling.  It matters when we send out a hope for peace.  It matters that we believe the universe is on our side.  It matters that we believe in the power of community to make life better for everyone.  It matters when we answer prayers in our community – a prayer for rent, a prayer for food, a prayer for recognition.  Prayer changes us.  It makes us more kind, more loving, more hopeful.  And kind, loving, hopeful people change the world. 

Sixth Sunday after the Epiphany

Matthew 7:1-5

 I want to start today with a few program notes.

• Today is officially Religion and Science Sunday across the country.  We plan to celebrate this year, but our speaker, Tyler Bublitz, who is coming from Bemidji is better able to come next week.  So join us next Sunday for a consideration of Religion, Science and the Common Good.

• This coming Wednesday is both Valentine’s Day and Ash Wednesday.  Both are important days in the calendar.  We’ve found that attendance at an Ash Wednesday service at Family of God is so small that it’s hard to do a meaningful worship service, so we won’t be having a service here.  But every larger Lutheran and Catholic church in town will be having a service and I encourage you to attend one of those if this is a day which speaks to your heart.

• Folks have been asking me what sermon or study series I’m doing for Lent, which begins on Wednesday.  Most of you know that the traditional understanding of Lent isn’t my favorite.  Lent concentrates on penitence, or being honest about what’s wrong with us, so we can celebrate new life more enthusiastically on Easter.  I’m in favor of being honest about our need to be more aware of the needs of the world and how we contribute to those so we can be more intentional about bringing new life to broken places.  I’m not in favor of setting aside six weeks to focus on what’s wrong with us.  I prefer that we be honest about how both good and bad mingle in everyday life all the time, that we do our best to be more informed and more self-reflective, and that we celebrate how God’s love works in us and through us always, bringing life to the world.

• That said, we ARE in the middle of a learning series.  Last year we learned about the early church and how in a variety of ways Jesus Communities tried to live by his teachings and his example.  Now I’m finding in the Gospels stories that tell us what Jesus said and did so we can think about how they inform our living in this community today.

In today’s scripture, Jesus clearly tells us not to judge others.  He amplifies that by saying not to pay attention to what’s wrong with other people until after you’ve been honest about what’s wrong with you and fixed it.  That’s just simple good advice for living in community.

Every group of people has to be careful not to become a group of complainers.  It’s easy to see what’s wrong.  If we were a church of complainers, we could say that not many people came today, the service didn’t start on time, the Christmas banners are still up in February, we sang the wrong hymns (too old or too new), the sermon was wandering, the coffee was too weak or too strong, the treats were boring, the stuff on the bulletin board was old, the books on the bookshelf hadn’t changed…   Or we can say we saw some of our friends, the musicians did a valiant job of helping us sing, we heard about some interesting projects we helped with, Correen put great pictures on the front of the bulletin, and we got to linger over coffee.  The exact same situation can be annoying or uplifting, depending on how we look at it. 

That reality is true in marriages.  Every couple goes through times when they find each other vastly irritating and times when they have a great time together.  It’s true in families.  The children who fight as teens become best friends in adulthood – or vice versa.  It’s true in neighborhoods, community organizations, and work environments. Whenever people gather, we have a choice to look for the best or point out the worst – because both will be there.

One of the ways Jesus people infect the world for good is by lifting up what’s working rather than what’s not.  The neighbor who runs a noisy leaf blower to clean the driveway every day grows beautiful dahlias.  The club president who can’t run a meeting is great about welcoming new people into the group.  In our own thinking and in conversation we get to choose where we’ll put the focus.  Our choices change how we see the world and also how others see it.

There have been times in my life when I’ve been focused on what’s wrong and not on what’s right. The housemate with an annoying habit. A planning group going off the rails.  Some of those times I’ve been lucky to have a friend who called me on it.  To remind me that I was being unkind and that a lot of what was wrong was my attitude.  Just having someone point out how our focus is running along a negative path can be the trigger to helping us change.  When we realize what we’re doing, we can make the shift.  We’re better for it – and so are those around us.  It’s not easy to be the friend who points out what’s happening, but it’s a great gift to those involved.

Jesus reminds us that when we see a speck in someone’s eye – a little irritant making them see things a bit off – there is probably a log in our own.  When we’re noticing what’s wrong with people or groups is a great time to take a step back and ask, “What part of this is my doing?” 

• Am I offending someone by the things I say or the way I say them?

• Am I being kind and encouraging others?

• Am I irritated by something that doesn’t really matter?  Do I need to let it go?

• Am I angry because not everyone wants to do this my way?

•  Is there something I can do to help another person be more successful?

•  Take minutes, make coffee, say less or more?

•  Is it time for me to move on?

• Groups change, we change – sometimes the kindest thing I’ve done for a group is leave.

Finally, this teaching of Jesus is about group dynamics and interpersonal relationships.  It’s not about public policy, criminal behavior, or major ethical standards.  There are times when we need to judge behavior as wrong.  The Ten Commandments tell us not to murder, lie, or steal.  We make rules about how people behave in order to support the good of the community.  Jesus isn’t telling us not to discern when something is harmful. 

Jesus does tell us that even when we draw a line and prevent some behaviors, we still love the person involved.  That’s hard:  judge the action, not the person.  The person is a beloved child of God and entitled to our love and care.  In our country, we too often confuse the action and the actor.  A person is a murderer, not someone who committed murder.  A person is an addict, not someone with a harmful addiction.  A person is a liberal or a conservative, not someone with particular ideas about how the world works.  It takes practice to separate how we think about an action or a belief and how we feel about the person doing those things.  We have to remind ourselves that they aren’t the same.

Jesus says we aren’t to judge others in ways that break down community, but he doesn’t say we can’t disagree, present alternative possibilities, or even make rules that discourage some behaviors.  We can make ground rules about civility and respect and participation and expect them to be followed.  We can ask our neighbor to mow their weeds and our cousin not to smoke in our house.  We can enforce rules and at the same time work to stay in relationship with the people involved.  It used to be that our government representatives compromised on important matters, found some common understanding and remained friends.  It’s not too much to expect that they begin to do that again.

In some countries in the world people who commit crimes are put into rehabilitation.  They learn what caused the crime – anger, illness, poverty, desperation – and they are given tools to act differently in the future.  The actions have consequences, AND the people are valued.  Those who can learn to do better are empowered to do so.  Those who can’t are cared for in ways that prevent them from harming others.  The actions are judged, the people are loved.  We have a lot to learn from those models, which would make all our lives better.

Changing systems begins with changing people.  Jesus tells us not to judge each other when we don’t have to do so.  To work together to build community in which everyone thrives.  When we practice this every day, it’s a gift to ourselves.  Our lives are easier and more joyful.  And it’s a gift to the world.

Fifth Sunday after the Epiphany

Matthew 6:25-34

Thirty-five years ago Bobby McFerrin was winning awards for his song, “Don’t Worry, Be Happy.”  I remember that I used that song as a sermon illustration, saying something like “This is great music and bad theology.”  My forty-year-old self wanted people to take seriously the way the world was broken and not simply ignore major issues in order to feel good.  How many sermon illustrations happen in almost 50 years of preaching and why would I remember that one?  Maybe because I need to correct the record.  I remember it because I got it wrong.  In today’s scripture, Jesus is reminding me:  Don’t worry, be happy is a good way to live.

Living without worry doesn’t mean that there aren’t things broken in the wider world or in our particular lives.  It doesn’t ignore the need to make things better when we can.  Jesus who said, “Don’t worry about what you will eat” fed people who were hungry. He said, “Don’t worry about what you will drink” and made wine for a wedding. He said, “Don’t worry about what you will wear” and told people who had two robes to share one of them.  The early Jesus communities focused on taking care of people who were feeling the weight of a hard life.  They held common meals so that those who had food could share it.  They sheltered people who were on the road without a place to stay.  They found work for people who had literally lost the farm and needed a new trade. 

Throughout history, Jesus’ followers have taken care of people who were in crisis.  They were innkeepers in medieval monasteries.  They began the first hospitals to care for the ill and spread hospitals throughout the world through the missionary movement.  We claim that heritage when we help people in our community.  This story doesn’t let us off the hook.  It reminds us that we are the hands and heart of Jesus, the love of God, in this time and place for those who need God to intervene and save their lives.

It also reminds us that the world works better when people take care of each other.  Jesus lived in a world where there was a gulf between rich folks and poor, powerful folks and those who did most of the work.  So do we.  He critiqued his world and chastised those who had the power to make it better and chose not to.  So do we.  Jesus told people who had nothing not to worry, God would provide.  Then he taught his followers to do the work of God and provide.  There’s a vast difference of opinion today about whether we as a society are responsible for the wellbeing of all people or not.  American individualism suggests that if people are hungry it’s because they are lazy.  Now that we know some of the folks who are hungry, we know that’s not true.  The root causes of hunger are much deeper.  They include mental illness and addiction and emergency medical conditions and gaps in education and a low minimum wage.  Domestic abuse and the need to flee to safety causes hunger and homelessness.  So does not having a safety net of family members.  We are getting pretty good at feeding people.  We need to get smarter about changing policies so that people can feed themselves.

While we’re waiting for people to come together and make the world an easier place to live, we come back to Jesus’ advice to those whose lives were difficult beyond anything we can imagine:  don’t worry.  Don’t worry doesn’t mean “ignore bad things.”  It means that when life gets hard, do what you can to make it better, but worry isn’t one of those things.  Much has been written about how worry makes hard situations harder and does nothing to make them better. 

Our Buddhist friends are so much better at understanding this than we are.  We’re lucky to have a Buddhist sangha available to us right here on Monday evenings.  We are always welcome to come learn meditation practice and join in their conversations about helpful books.  Our church library is full of books left by Tamar Reed, who collected them over a lifetime.  The Buddha was raised as a child of privilege and sheltered from all the harsh realities of the world.  As a young man he suddenly learned about some of those things he’d never faced:  illness, poverty, hardship.  In compassion, he set out to learn how to alleviate suffering of every kind, taking years to meditate and learn.  A very over-simplified explanation of his discovery is that life is often hard but suffering is optional.  Much of the suffering we experience comes from our own worry about what might happen or how things might turn out.  Scholars see a lot of overlap between the Buddha and Jesus who came centuries later and this might be one of them:  don’t worry.  Neither of these spiritual leaders tell us not to see what’s broken or to ignore what’s wrong.  Both ask us to face reality head on.  Not worrying doesn’t mean pretending there isn’t a problem.  Instead it puts a space around the problem and fills that space with confidence and peace rather than with worry. 

Worry tells stories that make whatever is wrong grow and become less manageable.  When I was first diagnosed with leukemia, I made the mistake of reading an official website that described symptoms and disease progression.  I learned that people with my diagnosis often died within 5 years and there was no medication that was particularly helpful.  I went into a panic.  What was I going to do?  What was I going to miss in life?  I set aside one evening to feel completely sorry for myself.  I cried.  I was miserable.  Then I set that down.  I went to the doctor and did what he told me to do.  I learned about medications and treatments.  I got better.  But over the years that getting better took, I lived life a day at a time.  I focused on living rather than on dying.  I enjoyed the people around me.  I did work I cared about – and some I didn’t. 

I learned to say about life:  it is what it is. I can worry and make up possible scenarios about how bad things are going to be, or I can take one day, even one minute, at a time and deal with what’s real in that moment.  Not every hard reality has an easy escape route.  But the events of our lives are only tragic if we decide they are tragic.  Some are very, very hard.  But we don’t face them alone.  God is on our side.  God’s people are on our side.  We can learn to face facts without worry and in the process, the burden of life gets lighter.  One moment at a time.

Learning not to worry about what’s hard in life sets us free to face life head on.  We do what we can.  We leave what we can’t do.  We set aside despair and anger and fear because each of them is just a story we tell ourselves.  In their place we choose stories of hope and compassion and possibility.  We can’t fix every problem life sends our way, but when we stop worrying and focus instead on what we can do, we make progress.  We may not be able to cure a dying loved one, but we can spend quality time with them.  We can’t keep adult children from making decisions we wouldn’t choose, but we can be there to help if it doesn’t work out and to cheer if it does.  We can’t personally end oppression in the world, but we can welcome New Americans one family at a time. 

Living without worry gives us back our power to live life with courage and hope.  Even if it doesn’t change the circumstances of life, it changes how we deal with them.   It helps us see what is possible and take a step forward with strength.  Don’t worry.  Trust God and the goodness of the universe.  We may find that we are happy.