This week's scriptures are Matthew 22:34-46 and James 2:14-26.
Among many christians the tension between "faith" and "works" creates significant problems.
On the one hand, we believe that faith is what saves us; faith being the trust that God is going to do what God has promised. That promise is captured in what has become my favorite benediction (those of you who are at church on Sundays will spot it immediately) "go in the knowledge that in the goodness of God we were born, by the watchfulness of God we are kept all the day long, and in the love and mercy of God we are all being redeemed and made whole." God is about the process of drawing us all into the Great Celebration, the party to which we are all invited and all are welcome.
On the other hand, we hear calls to justice, care for the poor, and the equating of our response to those who are 'hungy, naked, homeless, sick and in prison' as being a response to Christ Himself.
I want to do something that I don't usually do: I want to throw a really big word out here. It's a word that I don't use, but it's the only one that I can find that helps with the issue at hand. The word is "antinomy." According to Webster's it is an 'apparent contradiction between to valid principles or conclusions that seem equally necessary and reasonable.' This 'apparent contradiction' has many christians who believe in "faith alone" struggling with the role of works; and others wrestling with how their view of behavior and free will knocks heads with their faith in salvation as an act of God's Grace.
Do I have an answer? No, not if you mean, by an answer some absolute final word on this tension. I, personally, live in that tension on a daily basis. I believe in salvation as the result of God's Grace which we accept through faith. I also encounter behaviors which are truly acts of horror. Not to mention my own sins which, to quote David, "are ever before me."
But I do have a response to this 'antinomy' that lets me sleep at night and do the work that I do as a pastor and a therapist.
I believe, first of all that God is 'sovereign.' By that I mean that 1) God will have the final word; 2) that God understands the twists and turns of our lives...knows the places that pain and fear take us.
Which leads to my belief that God is compassionate. This understanding, loving God is at work (Revelation tells us) from the foundation of the world to redeem all of creation. And since God is sovereign, I have to believe that God is-finally, in the end-going to bring all of creation home.
In the meantime, (and I frankly don't know how long "meantime" is) I believe that I can refuse to participate in all, or part of, the Great Celebration that God began at the foundation of the world, made manifest in the incarnation of God's Self in Christ Jesus, and calls us to on a daily basis. I can refuse to come to the party because I don't like the other people there....and God's not going to re-write God's party list just to suit me. I can block myself from parts of the Celebration by cutting myself off from the tasks that living as a 'family member' in this New World calls me to. It's hard for me to "inherit the kingdom" as Paul puts it...enjoy all the benefits of being in God's family....if I'm treating my brothers and sisters like garbage. Because it is in these very relationships that Christ comes to us in the here-and-now.
A final thought. These acts of relationship: love, mercy, care, openness, understanding, patience, etc. They are responses of love and joy to the gift that I recognize in my own invitation to the party...my own salvation. They are demands of love, not of law.
My salvation does not (nor does yours) depend on my behavior. I am not so powerful that I can finally shut down the power of God's love and longing for me. Neither are you. But I can make right now a living hell by my refusal to join the party, or participate in the celebration. And my refusal has consequences in the lives of others as well.
A lot of my counseling work, both as a pastor and a psychotherapist, is helping people remove the barriers to coming to the party. Sometimes those barriers are extreme guilt that blocks faith that God could really want them at the party. Sometimes it is pain so deep that the heart's ability to trust has been crushed. And sometimes it is behaviors which, by their very nature, erect a wall between the individual and God in their cruelty and victimization of Christ as He comes to them in other human beings.
I take sin very seriously. But I take God's Grace even more seriously.
This is not a "final answer." It is, for me, an "answer in process." Maybe it will trigger some thoughts for you. Maybe it will give you some comfort. Maybe you will totally disagree with me.
Maybe on Sunday you'll let me know what you think. I hope to see you then.
Shalom,
Stephen
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
Monday, October 13, 2008
The God of History and the Nit-pickers
This week's scriptures are Isaiah 45:1-13 and Matthew 22:15-33.
In our passage from Matthew those who disagree with Jesus and are offended by the parable he uses to describe their refusal to come to the party try an different tack. If they cannot argue with his stance about God and God's open free invitation to the Eternal Party, they will catch him up in legal nit-picking about the Law. And they make a valiant effort. Laws about taxes, laws about marriage, laws about resurrection (this question came, by the way, from the Sadducees who didn't believe in the resurrection and who threw their favorite riddle about it at him).
Jesus isn't going to play. He swats away their arguments like Ali picking off a jab in his prime.
This response of the Pharisees and Sadducees is, of course, a response to Jesus' insistance that God loves ALL of God's children with a love that reaches past status and wealth and state of goodness. When you've spent your life chasing goodness like a hampster on an exercise wheel, this kind of preaching is bound to upset you. And if you've used your 'goodness' (read that as, for instance, "I have money and don't have to work at a job that makes me 'unclean' so I'm better than you") as a theo-political weapon to ensure your economic and social status; then the idea of all these hookers and cheats dancing into the Kingdom of God ahead of you is going to really upset you.
But before we get down on them too much, we need to admit that they sound a lot like us. You know the commercial that says "There's a little Captain Morgan in everyone"? Well, there's a little Pharisee/Sadducee in each of us. And it's not a pretty picture. Why do we do this? Because being out of control is a terrible feeling. And Jesus and all of scripture reminds us that when it comes to our salvation...we are soooooo not in control. It's all God, all the time. And God won't have it any other way. Our goodness cannot save us; and our badness cannot damn us. It's Grace all the way.
Isaiah has God saying, in fact, "you have no right to question me about my children or to tell me what I ought to do!" (Good News Bible). To prove it, God will use in Isaiah's time a king named Cyrus of Persia whose conquest of much of the known world will free Israel from their captivity. And what's more Cyrus won't know anything about how he's being used. He'll be off doing his conquering thing and there's God smiling as it sets God's people free; as God 'breaks down bronze gates and smashes their iron bars' (Isaiah 45:2) and claims the title "God of History."
I think this is one of the reasons that Jesus says to the Sadducees, "you're not reading scripture right." They'd gotten so caught up in the 'small stuff' that they were missing the sweeping brush of God in history that was transforming all of life.
In a time like ours; when financial systems falter (okay..they drop like hot rocks) and strong dividing lines are drawn on the basis of race, or social class, or money, (not to mention some of church people's favorite fights over the ordination of women and the marriage of gays) it is easy for us to get caught up in our version of the same nit-picking avoidance of the Eternal Party.
The door is open. The table is set. The food is really, really good; and the band is fantastic (and even I can dance there). All we have to do is trust. Faith. The great "Yes...oh Yes."
We'll be throwing a little bitty part of the party on Saturday at 10:00. Pumpkin Pancakes and Bible Study. I won't say that Jeremy and my cooking matches the food we're gonna have at Brunch in the Kingdom....but the door is open and everyone is invited. Hope we'll see you there.
Shalom,
Stephen
In our passage from Matthew those who disagree with Jesus and are offended by the parable he uses to describe their refusal to come to the party try an different tack. If they cannot argue with his stance about God and God's open free invitation to the Eternal Party, they will catch him up in legal nit-picking about the Law. And they make a valiant effort. Laws about taxes, laws about marriage, laws about resurrection (this question came, by the way, from the Sadducees who didn't believe in the resurrection and who threw their favorite riddle about it at him).
Jesus isn't going to play. He swats away their arguments like Ali picking off a jab in his prime.
This response of the Pharisees and Sadducees is, of course, a response to Jesus' insistance that God loves ALL of God's children with a love that reaches past status and wealth and state of goodness. When you've spent your life chasing goodness like a hampster on an exercise wheel, this kind of preaching is bound to upset you. And if you've used your 'goodness' (read that as, for instance, "I have money and don't have to work at a job that makes me 'unclean' so I'm better than you") as a theo-political weapon to ensure your economic and social status; then the idea of all these hookers and cheats dancing into the Kingdom of God ahead of you is going to really upset you.
But before we get down on them too much, we need to admit that they sound a lot like us. You know the commercial that says "There's a little Captain Morgan in everyone"? Well, there's a little Pharisee/Sadducee in each of us. And it's not a pretty picture. Why do we do this? Because being out of control is a terrible feeling. And Jesus and all of scripture reminds us that when it comes to our salvation...we are soooooo not in control. It's all God, all the time. And God won't have it any other way. Our goodness cannot save us; and our badness cannot damn us. It's Grace all the way.
Isaiah has God saying, in fact, "you have no right to question me about my children or to tell me what I ought to do!" (Good News Bible). To prove it, God will use in Isaiah's time a king named Cyrus of Persia whose conquest of much of the known world will free Israel from their captivity. And what's more Cyrus won't know anything about how he's being used. He'll be off doing his conquering thing and there's God smiling as it sets God's people free; as God 'breaks down bronze gates and smashes their iron bars' (Isaiah 45:2) and claims the title "God of History."
I think this is one of the reasons that Jesus says to the Sadducees, "you're not reading scripture right." They'd gotten so caught up in the 'small stuff' that they were missing the sweeping brush of God in history that was transforming all of life.
In a time like ours; when financial systems falter (okay..they drop like hot rocks) and strong dividing lines are drawn on the basis of race, or social class, or money, (not to mention some of church people's favorite fights over the ordination of women and the marriage of gays) it is easy for us to get caught up in our version of the same nit-picking avoidance of the Eternal Party.
The door is open. The table is set. The food is really, really good; and the band is fantastic (and even I can dance there). All we have to do is trust. Faith. The great "Yes...oh Yes."
We'll be throwing a little bitty part of the party on Saturday at 10:00. Pumpkin Pancakes and Bible Study. I won't say that Jeremy and my cooking matches the food we're gonna have at Brunch in the Kingdom....but the door is open and everyone is invited. Hope we'll see you there.
Shalom,
Stephen
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
A Tale of Two Parables
This week's scriptures are Psalm 23 and Matthew 22:1-14.
The first thing that you will notice is that the passage from Matthew is a retelling of the parable we used from Luke 14:15-24 about the folks who refused to come to the banquet. Only this time, those who don't come are wiped out and their cities burned. In addition, even when the party is going on one of the guests in thrown out "into the dark, the place of wailing and grinding of teeth." WHEW!
Now the commentators are mixed in their view of what is going on here. Is this a parable that Jesus told that Luke tells one way and Matthew another, based on what they were trying to say to a particular audience? (In that case, as you'll see below, I have some issues with Matthew). Or, did Jesus tell a similar parable in two different ways in a different setting for different needs? (In which case I have to struggle with the question of what was Jesus trying to get across in the Matthew parable).
What I find interesting about this parable though as I write this blog is the way that my personal history affects the way I read scripture.
I grew up in a very conservative, Southern Baptist church where strong ideas of judgement, condemnation, and the need for salvation from hell were evident. I also grew up in a violent household where one of my parents often used God as an excuse for the violence directed at my siblings and myself. In light of that, this parable has always been terrifying.
What it says (to that part of me still influenced by that history) is you'd better not turn down God's loving invitation to salvation or God will kill you and burn your life down; AND NOT ONLY THAT but even if you accept the invitation, there's a good chance you won't be good enough and will get tossed into the 'outer darkness' anyway.
When viewed this way, this parable becomes truly terrifying. For read this way, there is no safety, there is no peace, there is no celebration. The party in the kingdom when the parable is read this way is like those old films from WWII of the citizens of Poland waving flags and cheering for the Nazi troops as they marched by while their true emotions showed in the tears streaming down their face.
As you can tell, I struggle with the message about God's intention that was given to me in early life. Though my beliefs are different now, every now and then this view of God as just waiting for the opportunity to snatch us up, smack us around, and throw us into hell rears its ugly head.
Then what do we do with this passage? How can we understand what Matthew was trying to do (you'll notice here the choice I made about the difference between the parables)? And how does this passage have anything to say to us today?
Now we're gonna talk more about this on Sunday...and I hope that you're gonna be there for the conversation....but here is what I think:
I think that the poor guy who got tossed is a lot like you and me. We come to the party....but we really can't celebrate (symbolized by the absence of the proper attire). We come still wearing our "I've got to earn it for myself" suit; or our "nobody could ever really love me" dress; or our "if they ever truly knew me and all that I've done/thought/fantasized, not even God could love and redeem me" ensemble outfit. And so, in the here-and-now (notice that I'm not talking about eternity...God's got that covered), we put our own selves outside the party. We're unable to enjoy the celebration that God wants to throw for us right now.
And there we stand...speechless, like the party guest; or like the Elder Brother in the story of the Prodigal Sons, standing outside the party trying to decide what to do.
Now let me tell you what I think we need to do....knowing what I know about God's love and desire for us. Imagine this:
We walk up to the door. We knock. The Host answers and we say, "I need your help. I don't have a party outfit...I never really thought I'd be invited...what's more, I can't seem to get this one off, no matter how hard I try. I don't think I can do this by myself...but I really, really want to come to Your party....and You're right, this outfit I'm wearing really stinks."
And the Host looks down at us, and smiles. Partying Love wraps huge warm arms around us, draws us back into the room and the Host says, "I thought you'd never ask."
Hope to see you Sunday.
Shalom,
Stephen
The first thing that you will notice is that the passage from Matthew is a retelling of the parable we used from Luke 14:15-24 about the folks who refused to come to the banquet. Only this time, those who don't come are wiped out and their cities burned. In addition, even when the party is going on one of the guests in thrown out "into the dark, the place of wailing and grinding of teeth." WHEW!
Now the commentators are mixed in their view of what is going on here. Is this a parable that Jesus told that Luke tells one way and Matthew another, based on what they were trying to say to a particular audience? (In that case, as you'll see below, I have some issues with Matthew). Or, did Jesus tell a similar parable in two different ways in a different setting for different needs? (In which case I have to struggle with the question of what was Jesus trying to get across in the Matthew parable).
What I find interesting about this parable though as I write this blog is the way that my personal history affects the way I read scripture.
I grew up in a very conservative, Southern Baptist church where strong ideas of judgement, condemnation, and the need for salvation from hell were evident. I also grew up in a violent household where one of my parents often used God as an excuse for the violence directed at my siblings and myself. In light of that, this parable has always been terrifying.
What it says (to that part of me still influenced by that history) is you'd better not turn down God's loving invitation to salvation or God will kill you and burn your life down; AND NOT ONLY THAT but even if you accept the invitation, there's a good chance you won't be good enough and will get tossed into the 'outer darkness' anyway.
When viewed this way, this parable becomes truly terrifying. For read this way, there is no safety, there is no peace, there is no celebration. The party in the kingdom when the parable is read this way is like those old films from WWII of the citizens of Poland waving flags and cheering for the Nazi troops as they marched by while their true emotions showed in the tears streaming down their face.
As you can tell, I struggle with the message about God's intention that was given to me in early life. Though my beliefs are different now, every now and then this view of God as just waiting for the opportunity to snatch us up, smack us around, and throw us into hell rears its ugly head.
Then what do we do with this passage? How can we understand what Matthew was trying to do (you'll notice here the choice I made about the difference between the parables)? And how does this passage have anything to say to us today?
Now we're gonna talk more about this on Sunday...and I hope that you're gonna be there for the conversation....but here is what I think:
I think that the poor guy who got tossed is a lot like you and me. We come to the party....but we really can't celebrate (symbolized by the absence of the proper attire). We come still wearing our "I've got to earn it for myself" suit; or our "nobody could ever really love me" dress; or our "if they ever truly knew me and all that I've done/thought/fantasized, not even God could love and redeem me" ensemble outfit. And so, in the here-and-now (notice that I'm not talking about eternity...God's got that covered), we put our own selves outside the party. We're unable to enjoy the celebration that God wants to throw for us right now.
And there we stand...speechless, like the party guest; or like the Elder Brother in the story of the Prodigal Sons, standing outside the party trying to decide what to do.
Now let me tell you what I think we need to do....knowing what I know about God's love and desire for us. Imagine this:
We walk up to the door. We knock. The Host answers and we say, "I need your help. I don't have a party outfit...I never really thought I'd be invited...what's more, I can't seem to get this one off, no matter how hard I try. I don't think I can do this by myself...but I really, really want to come to Your party....and You're right, this outfit I'm wearing really stinks."
And the Host looks down at us, and smiles. Partying Love wraps huge warm arms around us, draws us back into the room and the Host says, "I thought you'd never ask."
Hope to see you Sunday.
Shalom,
Stephen
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Sermons I Hate to Preach
This week's scriptures are Isaiah 5:1-16 and Matthew 21:33-46.
I hate preaching sermons which come out of what I call "judgement passages." These are the ones in which the prophets (such as Isaiah) or Jesus are holding up the ways in which God's people (meaning you and I) have failed to live up to what we have been called to be.
The reason I hate preaching about them is simple. Like David in the Psalms, "my sin is ever before me." I know enough about my own sins and shortcomings to know that these passages all too often speak directly to my own frailty and sin. There is no way.....EVER....for me to stand before a congregation and scold them for their shortcomings. Any time I preach about God's word judging us, the emphasis is on the "US" and I stand beneath that judgement with you. And, frankly, that's not a very comfortable place to be.
But there is good news. The good news is that God never speaks to us in judgement without the opportunity for repentence...a word which means to turn, to change, to move in a different direction.
As a wayfor to begin this examination of God's word of judgement to us, I would offer the words of G.K. Chesterton's hymn which we will be using Sunday. Think about it with me as we move through the week in prayer. The words ring as true today ans they did when he wrote it in 1906:
O God of earth and altar
bow down and hear our cry.
Our earthly rulers falter
our people drift and die.
The walls of gold entomb us,
the swords of scorn divide.
Take not our thunder from us,
but take away our pride.
From all that terror teaches,
from lies of tongue and pen,
from all the easy speeches
that comfort cruel men;
from sale and profination
of honor and the sword,
from sleep and from damnation
deliver us good Lord
Tie in a living tether
the prince and priest and thrall.
Bind all our lives together,
smite us and save us all.
In ire and exaltation,
aflame with faith and free;
lift up a living nation
a single sword to Thee.
Hope to see you Sunday.
Shalom,
Stephen
I hate preaching sermons which come out of what I call "judgement passages." These are the ones in which the prophets (such as Isaiah) or Jesus are holding up the ways in which God's people (meaning you and I) have failed to live up to what we have been called to be.
The reason I hate preaching about them is simple. Like David in the Psalms, "my sin is ever before me." I know enough about my own sins and shortcomings to know that these passages all too often speak directly to my own frailty and sin. There is no way.....EVER....for me to stand before a congregation and scold them for their shortcomings. Any time I preach about God's word judging us, the emphasis is on the "US" and I stand beneath that judgement with you. And, frankly, that's not a very comfortable place to be.
But there is good news. The good news is that God never speaks to us in judgement without the opportunity for repentence...a word which means to turn, to change, to move in a different direction.
As a wayfor to begin this examination of God's word of judgement to us, I would offer the words of G.K. Chesterton's hymn which we will be using Sunday. Think about it with me as we move through the week in prayer. The words ring as true today ans they did when he wrote it in 1906:
O God of earth and altar
bow down and hear our cry.
Our earthly rulers falter
our people drift and die.
The walls of gold entomb us,
the swords of scorn divide.
Take not our thunder from us,
but take away our pride.
From all that terror teaches,
from lies of tongue and pen,
from all the easy speeches
that comfort cruel men;
from sale and profination
of honor and the sword,
from sleep and from damnation
deliver us good Lord
Tie in a living tether
the prince and priest and thrall.
Bind all our lives together,
smite us and save us all.
In ire and exaltation,
aflame with faith and free;
lift up a living nation
a single sword to Thee.
Hope to see you Sunday.
Shalom,
Stephen
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
Who's Invited to the Feast of the Kingdom
This week's scriptures are Luke 14:7-14 and Luke 14:15-24.
In response to last week's blog, Kara wrote:
I think the next question is - are we 'letting them come' by way of acceptance or forgiveness?
Conditions are accepted. Sins are forgiven. And there still a lot of debate in the church about which is which. If I were a homosexual, or an addict, or a single-mother or a victim, or a person with a disability - I wouldn't take much comfort in a welcome that was based on forgiveness; I'd want acceptance.
The fact that many churches are divided on what's a condition and what's a sin leads to the question so many are asking: does letting them come, also mean letting them lead?
I think it should, but until we can distinguish between sins and conditions some people will keep fighting it and others will keep feeling unwelcome.
This week's scriptures offer a partial response to her questions....and I'd like to enlarge on it a bit with an answer of my own.
Jesus, in this Lukan passage and in others, refers to the Kingdom of God (which we as Church are called to imitate and try to bring in) as a banquet....a feast of celebration. We're told to deal with the fact that we've been invited with humility. Verses 8-11 are, in part, about coming into the feast with what folks in 12 Step programs refer to as and "attitude of gratitude."
This is important because our attitude about why we're at the feast will affect the way we respond to who else is there. Am I here because I'm 'good' and 'deserve' to be here? Am I here because the host 'owes me something'? Or am I here because I know the ways in which I am also like "the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind" that Jesus tells the host in verse 13 to invite.
And, when, in verses 15-24 Jesus goes on to expound on the Feast of the Kingdom, he points out that many folks miss their need and don't come to the banquet. Then we're told that the servants were instructed to go out into 'streets and alleys, highways and hedges' to bring people in.
[As an aside....I wonder if our "church growth" and "evangelism" isn't too often aimed at the 'worried well'...at those who figure that they're just fine and can take the community of faith or leave it. What does this passage say to us about who we need to be reaching out to?]
But back to issues that Kara raised. Many people with "conditions"-things in their lives over which they have little or no control-feel the church viewing their 'condition' as "sin." They feel judged on the basis of their sexuality, their victimization, their disability. We are commanded by Jesus to accept all persons. As someone said to Jesus "only God can forgive sins." Jesus' answer was to not argue with him, but to go right on forgiving sins....a bold statement about who Jesus saw himself to be.
We are called to offer forgiveness to those who have harmed us (Jesus' teaching about forgiving 70 times 7). But we are also commanded not to judge others.
But what, then, about "conditions" that lead to sins? What about, for example, the victim of child sexual abuse who now, as an adult, cannot commit to a trusting monogamous relationship, and engages in compulsive one night stands? What should our response be to them?
Perhaps we need to remember that the wounds ("conditions") in our lives, when left unhealed, can often lead us places where we harm both others and ourselves. Maybe this is why so often Jesus' healings also included the statement "your sins are forgiven."
There is a story that a sign above the entrance to the Green Beret training grounds with their motto which says "Kill them all...let God sort them out." I'm going to maintain that what you and I are called to is just the opposite. Our commandment is to LOVE THEM ALL AND LET GOD SORT THEM OUT. Whatever judging needs to be done, God will do. And God's judgement will be merciful. Because God knows the "conditions" that no one else sees. God knows the loneliness of childhood and how it made us fearful. God knows the anxiety that makes us afraid to leave the house. God knows the pain of life trying to live like a 'straight' and knowing that you're not....and all the place that this can take you....places that fill you with shame and self loathing. God knows the poverty of your youth that makes you fearful and greedy now. God's mercy seeks to help you, and all of us, heal. God wants us to heal so that we can be what we were created to be: companions for God and for one another.
Which brings us full circle to the issue of humility that started our blog. When I am humble about my own "conditions" and my own "sins"....my own needs for both healing and forgiveness; I am more compassionate about those same needs in those around me. I walk tenderly and carefully around their wounds; and I pray for them and offer my support as they struggle with what it means to accept God's forgiveness for their sins. I remember that I'm one of those invited to the feast from the 'highways and the hedges' the 'streets and the alleys.' I remember my own blindness and all the things I bumped into...bruising myself and others.
When I live like this, I am able to do what Jesus asks and throw open the door to the Feast of the Kingdom as it takes place in the here and now. Maybe this needs to be the Church's motto:
LOVE THEM ALL AND LET GOD SORT THEM OUT
Hope to see you Sunday.
Shalom,
Stephen
In response to last week's blog, Kara wrote:
I think the next question is - are we 'letting them come' by way of acceptance or forgiveness?
Conditions are accepted. Sins are forgiven. And there still a lot of debate in the church about which is which. If I were a homosexual, or an addict, or a single-mother or a victim, or a person with a disability - I wouldn't take much comfort in a welcome that was based on forgiveness; I'd want acceptance.
The fact that many churches are divided on what's a condition and what's a sin leads to the question so many are asking: does letting them come, also mean letting them lead?
I think it should, but until we can distinguish between sins and conditions some people will keep fighting it and others will keep feeling unwelcome.
This week's scriptures offer a partial response to her questions....and I'd like to enlarge on it a bit with an answer of my own.
Jesus, in this Lukan passage and in others, refers to the Kingdom of God (which we as Church are called to imitate and try to bring in) as a banquet....a feast of celebration. We're told to deal with the fact that we've been invited with humility. Verses 8-11 are, in part, about coming into the feast with what folks in 12 Step programs refer to as and "attitude of gratitude."
This is important because our attitude about why we're at the feast will affect the way we respond to who else is there. Am I here because I'm 'good' and 'deserve' to be here? Am I here because the host 'owes me something'? Or am I here because I know the ways in which I am also like "the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind" that Jesus tells the host in verse 13 to invite.
And, when, in verses 15-24 Jesus goes on to expound on the Feast of the Kingdom, he points out that many folks miss their need and don't come to the banquet. Then we're told that the servants were instructed to go out into 'streets and alleys, highways and hedges' to bring people in.
[As an aside....I wonder if our "church growth" and "evangelism" isn't too often aimed at the 'worried well'...at those who figure that they're just fine and can take the community of faith or leave it. What does this passage say to us about who we need to be reaching out to?]
But back to issues that Kara raised. Many people with "conditions"-things in their lives over which they have little or no control-feel the church viewing their 'condition' as "sin." They feel judged on the basis of their sexuality, their victimization, their disability. We are commanded by Jesus to accept all persons. As someone said to Jesus "only God can forgive sins." Jesus' answer was to not argue with him, but to go right on forgiving sins....a bold statement about who Jesus saw himself to be.
We are called to offer forgiveness to those who have harmed us (Jesus' teaching about forgiving 70 times 7). But we are also commanded not to judge others.
But what, then, about "conditions" that lead to sins? What about, for example, the victim of child sexual abuse who now, as an adult, cannot commit to a trusting monogamous relationship, and engages in compulsive one night stands? What should our response be to them?
Perhaps we need to remember that the wounds ("conditions") in our lives, when left unhealed, can often lead us places where we harm both others and ourselves. Maybe this is why so often Jesus' healings also included the statement "your sins are forgiven."
There is a story that a sign above the entrance to the Green Beret training grounds with their motto which says "Kill them all...let God sort them out." I'm going to maintain that what you and I are called to is just the opposite. Our commandment is to LOVE THEM ALL AND LET GOD SORT THEM OUT. Whatever judging needs to be done, God will do. And God's judgement will be merciful. Because God knows the "conditions" that no one else sees. God knows the loneliness of childhood and how it made us fearful. God knows the anxiety that makes us afraid to leave the house. God knows the pain of life trying to live like a 'straight' and knowing that you're not....and all the place that this can take you....places that fill you with shame and self loathing. God knows the poverty of your youth that makes you fearful and greedy now. God's mercy seeks to help you, and all of us, heal. God wants us to heal so that we can be what we were created to be: companions for God and for one another.
Which brings us full circle to the issue of humility that started our blog. When I am humble about my own "conditions" and my own "sins"....my own needs for both healing and forgiveness; I am more compassionate about those same needs in those around me. I walk tenderly and carefully around their wounds; and I pray for them and offer my support as they struggle with what it means to accept God's forgiveness for their sins. I remember that I'm one of those invited to the feast from the 'highways and the hedges' the 'streets and the alleys.' I remember my own blindness and all the things I bumped into...bruising myself and others.
When I live like this, I am able to do what Jesus asks and throw open the door to the Feast of the Kingdom as it takes place in the here and now. Maybe this needs to be the Church's motto:
LOVE THEM ALL AND LET GOD SORT THEM OUT
Hope to see you Sunday.
Shalom,
Stephen
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
Does He Know?...And Does That Stop Me?
This week's scriptures are Luke 7:36-50 and Acts 8:26-39.
Both of these stories are about people who would,under their cultural context, be cut off from worship and relationship with God. One is a woman with a shady reputation; the other is a eunuch.
In the story from Luke, the Pharisee who had invited Jesus to dinner sees this woman crying over Jesus feet and drying them with her hair as says to himself, "If this man were a prophet, he would have known who and what kind of woman this is who is touching him-that she is a sinner." He uses this incident to judge not only the woman, but Jesus as well.
The Ethiopian Eunuch is on his way back from Jerusalem where he had gone to worship. Think about it....here is a man who is a convert to the Jewish faith, who has come to Jerusalem to worship KNOWING that because of his physical condition (having been castrated) that there are limits to where he will be allowed to worship. There are places in the temple where he cannot go. Yet he still comes to Jerusalem.
Both of these people come to faith with questions about whether they will still be outcasts. Can you hear the trembling question in the eunuch's voice when he says to Philip, ":look there is water! Is there anything that will prevent me from being baptized?" A paraphrase of that question might be, "Does Jesus hold my condition against me too?"
I think many of us still ask that question. In the deep part of our hearts we want to know if the things we know about ourselves, the secrets that we clutch so tightly will keep us from Jesus love.
And there are those outside the church who look at us and ask the same questions. This is AIDS Awareness Week. On Thursday I'll be at the AIDS Awareness Luncheon with Joann and others who are deeply committed to this issue. We need to ask ourselves, "What do persons with HIV/AIDS hear from us about their welcome into the fellowship of those who seek to follow Jesus?" We can ask the same question in regard to those with mental illnesses, addictions, questionable sexual behaviors, and disabilities. What is our answer when they look at us and say, "Does Jesus hold my condition against me?" "Is there anything that will prevent me from being baptized (welcomed completely into the fellowship)?"
While 'litmus tests' may be okay for political parties; they are off limits when it comes to who we welcome into the Body of Christ. Jesus said, "Who so ever will...let them come." That's pretty clear. He didn't say, "Let them come after they clean up their act, after they've been in recovery for a year or two, after they're on their medication" no, He said, "Let them come."
I love the old Hymn, "Love Lifted Me." I especially love the bass line in the chorus where the response to "love lifted me" is "even me." And the final line, "when nothing else could help....love lifted me." When nothing else could help, when nothing at all could save me from my shame and my alienation and my fear of rejection.....Love lifted me.
The doors are always open into the Kingdom....God's arms are always reaching out. Thanks be to God.
See you Sunday.
Shalom,
Stephen
Both of these stories are about people who would,under their cultural context, be cut off from worship and relationship with God. One is a woman with a shady reputation; the other is a eunuch.
In the story from Luke, the Pharisee who had invited Jesus to dinner sees this woman crying over Jesus feet and drying them with her hair as says to himself, "If this man were a prophet, he would have known who and what kind of woman this is who is touching him-that she is a sinner." He uses this incident to judge not only the woman, but Jesus as well.
The Ethiopian Eunuch is on his way back from Jerusalem where he had gone to worship. Think about it....here is a man who is a convert to the Jewish faith, who has come to Jerusalem to worship KNOWING that because of his physical condition (having been castrated) that there are limits to where he will be allowed to worship. There are places in the temple where he cannot go. Yet he still comes to Jerusalem.
Both of these people come to faith with questions about whether they will still be outcasts. Can you hear the trembling question in the eunuch's voice when he says to Philip, ":look there is water! Is there anything that will prevent me from being baptized?" A paraphrase of that question might be, "Does Jesus hold my condition against me too?"
I think many of us still ask that question. In the deep part of our hearts we want to know if the things we know about ourselves, the secrets that we clutch so tightly will keep us from Jesus love.
And there are those outside the church who look at us and ask the same questions. This is AIDS Awareness Week. On Thursday I'll be at the AIDS Awareness Luncheon with Joann and others who are deeply committed to this issue. We need to ask ourselves, "What do persons with HIV/AIDS hear from us about their welcome into the fellowship of those who seek to follow Jesus?" We can ask the same question in regard to those with mental illnesses, addictions, questionable sexual behaviors, and disabilities. What is our answer when they look at us and say, "Does Jesus hold my condition against me?" "Is there anything that will prevent me from being baptized (welcomed completely into the fellowship)?"
While 'litmus tests' may be okay for political parties; they are off limits when it comes to who we welcome into the Body of Christ. Jesus said, "Who so ever will...let them come." That's pretty clear. He didn't say, "Let them come after they clean up their act, after they've been in recovery for a year or two, after they're on their medication" no, He said, "Let them come."
I love the old Hymn, "Love Lifted Me." I especially love the bass line in the chorus where the response to "love lifted me" is "even me." And the final line, "when nothing else could help....love lifted me." When nothing else could help, when nothing at all could save me from my shame and my alienation and my fear of rejection.....Love lifted me.
The doors are always open into the Kingdom....God's arms are always reaching out. Thanks be to God.
See you Sunday.
Shalom,
Stephen
Tuesday, September 9, 2008
Hospitality as Noticing
This week's scriptures are Luke 13:10-17 and Luke 14:1-6.
There are a lot of things that can be said about the story found in Luke 13:10-17; and we're going to talk about some of them on Sunday. But I'd like, for just a moment to focus on one thing in particular...that is that Jesus noticed this woman.
Unlike many of the people whom Jesus healed, she didn't come to him asking for healing. She wasn't part of throng that cried out to him or gathered when he was surrounded by the sick and the lame. She was at church...she was worshipping in the synagogue...bent and in pain....and Jesus noticed her.
Probably everyone in the synagogue knew this woman. They passed her on the street, at the well, in the market. They had come-perhaps-to be so accustomed to her bent shape that they took for granted that this was how she was. Even those women who had grown up with her as children, who remembered her as a playmate, had shifted out of their awareness their memory of her as someone whose back was once straight and strong. She was just the bend woman of the village....until Jesus noticed.
He could have done nothing. He could have gone and finished his teaching message and gone about his regular pattern when he was in the synagogue and it wouldn't have been in any way remarkable. But Jesus noticed and out of that noticing, he acted to free this woman from her pain.
It makes me wonder if hospitality doesn't begin with our eyes. With what we notice. Does 'making a place' for people begin with noticing that they need a place?
Does it begin with paying attention to the people we pass each day who are 'bent' in some ways by how the years have affected them. Does having the 'eyes of Jesus' mean looking at our world in a way that notices what needs to change, who needs help, rather than sliding by thinking like the song from the musical "that's the way it goes; everybody knows. That's the way it's always been and how it's gotta be."
"Noticing." It is such a small thing. But it's interesting that Jesus follows up this incident...perhaps immediately...by talking about small things. Listen to verses 18-21
And he said therefore, "What is the kingdom of God like? And to what should I compare it? It is like a mustard sed that someone took and swed in the garden: it grew and became a tree, and the birds of the air made nests in its branches." And again, he said, "To what shaould I compare the kingdom of God? It is like yeast that a woman took and mixed in with three measures of flour until all of it was leavened."
A small thing, noticing, may be the very thing that opens the door of God's hospitality....the hospitality that Jesus called The Kingdom of God.
See you Sunday.
Shalom,
Stephen
There are a lot of things that can be said about the story found in Luke 13:10-17; and we're going to talk about some of them on Sunday. But I'd like, for just a moment to focus on one thing in particular...that is that Jesus noticed this woman.
Unlike many of the people whom Jesus healed, she didn't come to him asking for healing. She wasn't part of throng that cried out to him or gathered when he was surrounded by the sick and the lame. She was at church...she was worshipping in the synagogue...bent and in pain....and Jesus noticed her.
Probably everyone in the synagogue knew this woman. They passed her on the street, at the well, in the market. They had come-perhaps-to be so accustomed to her bent shape that they took for granted that this was how she was. Even those women who had grown up with her as children, who remembered her as a playmate, had shifted out of their awareness their memory of her as someone whose back was once straight and strong. She was just the bend woman of the village....until Jesus noticed.
He could have done nothing. He could have gone and finished his teaching message and gone about his regular pattern when he was in the synagogue and it wouldn't have been in any way remarkable. But Jesus noticed and out of that noticing, he acted to free this woman from her pain.
It makes me wonder if hospitality doesn't begin with our eyes. With what we notice. Does 'making a place' for people begin with noticing that they need a place?
Does it begin with paying attention to the people we pass each day who are 'bent' in some ways by how the years have affected them. Does having the 'eyes of Jesus' mean looking at our world in a way that notices what needs to change, who needs help, rather than sliding by thinking like the song from the musical "that's the way it goes; everybody knows. That's the way it's always been and how it's gotta be."
"Noticing." It is such a small thing. But it's interesting that Jesus follows up this incident...perhaps immediately...by talking about small things. Listen to verses 18-21
And he said therefore, "What is the kingdom of God like? And to what should I compare it? It is like a mustard sed that someone took and swed in the garden: it grew and became a tree, and the birds of the air made nests in its branches." And again, he said, "To what shaould I compare the kingdom of God? It is like yeast that a woman took and mixed in with three measures of flour until all of it was leavened."
A small thing, noticing, may be the very thing that opens the door of God's hospitality....the hospitality that Jesus called The Kingdom of God.
See you Sunday.
Shalom,
Stephen
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