A FIRM FOUNDATION

The Fifth Sunday of Easter

May 14, 2017

1 Peter 2: 2-10

                Well, it has been a quiet week in Lake Wobegon, my home town, the gateway to central Minnesota.  It was particularly quiet on Friday evening.  There was no traffic on Main Street, no parties going on in any of the homes, and The Bijou, our $5 movie theater, was practically vacant.  It was the night of the Lake Wobegon High School prom and all the Juniors and Seniors, their chaperones, teachers and school administrators were at the Sons of Knute lodge in Bemidji for the big event.

                Pastor Liz of the Lake Wobegon Lutheran Church however didn’t think it was all that quiet.  Her phone at the parsonage kept ringing off the hook all night long with anxious parents, usually a Mom, complaining that they shouldn’t have held the prom so far away from home.  “Surely the fire hall in Lake Wobegon would have worked just as well.  If they had come up with a prom theme like “Hot Time in the City,” why then even the fire trucks could have served as realistic decorations.  But Bemidji!  How are we going to be able to spy on our daughters and sons and make sure they don’t get into any trouble if they’re so far away?”

                Pastor Liz would offer words of reassuring comfort to calm them down, “They’re your children.  You taught them well.  They’ll follow your example.”  Then she wondered whether she should have included that last line, knowing some of the parents she had spoken to.  Then the minute she would hang up, the phone would ring with another hysterical mom.

                But perhaps the loudest noise that evening may have come from the back porch of David and Judy Engquist’s home.  David, you might remember, has been retired now for three years from Lake Wobegon Lutheran Church where he served a lengthy pastorate.  He had taken up a hobby in retirement, much to his wife Judy’s chagrin, of collecting individually different beer cans.  The walls of his home office were already covered with shelves of cans and he had just told Judy that he was going to have to put up more shelves to display new cans on her dining room walls.

                That’s when Judy blew her top.  And I know for a fact from my parents who live next door to the Engquists that when Judy began yelling at her husband’s hair-brained idea, their dog started barking and woke all of the other sleeping dogs who, with the kids all gone to Bemidgi, had nothing better to do than to for a chorus of howling throughout the town.  After Judy calmed down, she conceded that if her husband wanted to continue collecting more cans, he would have to put up a shed in the backyard to hold them all.

                “A shed!” thought Pastor Engquist, “what a great idea.  I could build a shed.”  Well, no, he couldn’t.  David Engquist has always been a hard worker, but he doesn’t know his way around a lumber yard and he’s never used a power tool in his life.  He’s only sawed wood, drilled screws and hammered nails by hand.  So he gave Karl Krepsbach a call to see if he could give him some help on Saturday.

                David had bought a “Do-It-Yourself” kit from The Shed Man, kind of like IKEA, but no good Norwegian would ever buy anything from a Swedish company, dontcha know.  Karl arrived at the Engquist home at 9AM. And David was ready to tear into the box and get to work building a shed.

                “Whoa!  Hold on, David,” said Karl, “You can’t build the shed until we have a proper, level foundation to put it on.  The sure foundation is the most important part of the project.  Or else, your shed would be crooked, the door won’t close together, and within a few years, all your work would be in vain.”

                So, the first four and a half hours of the morning were spent in building a level foundation.  They went to Mabey’s Lumber and Gravel to get wood and screws.  Karl did all the figuring and ordering with the owner, Lars Mabey, himself.  David’s only contribution was to ask if the offered a guarantee policy.  Lars just stared at him and finally said, “At Mabey’s Lumber and Gravel we stand behind our good name.  Is it the best quality wood?  Will we replace anything that might be defective?  Mabey – that’s my name.

                Lars looked at Karl quizzically and asked, “Is he helping you?”  Karl admitted, “It’s actually his shed.”  “Good luck with that,” quipped Lars.

                Then Karl and David got to work framing the foundation to the exact dimensions of the shed, leveling its placement, digging out a little on one side and filling in a little on the other side, finally getting t in place and then putting a covering of plywood over the top.  Then foundation was finally done and it had taken all morning long.

                For lunch, Karla and David went to The Sidetrack Tap and ordered a burger and a Wendy’s Beer – the beer with your name on it.  Karl said, “That may have taken a while, David, but in the end you’ll be glad we put so much time and energy into such a fine foundation.  And six hours later, a well-constructed shed was sitting upon a firm and level foundation.

                Now Pastor Liz had heard about her predecessor’s work project and stopped by in the evening for a look-see.  Plus, she always appreciated having the wizened, retired pastor as a mentor.  So she would often visit for consultation and advice.  Today, I guess they call it “spiritual direction.”  But David Engquist just thought of it a good, common sense.

                “Nice shed,” she said, Looks like you and Karl did a fine job on it.”  David admitted, “I couldn’t have done it without him.  How do you like the foundation?”  “The what?” she asked.  And then he realized that, with the shed in place, no one could actually see the foundation.  The most important part would go unseen.

                Pastor Liz changed subjects, “The church is declining.  I’m afraid Lake Wobegon Lutheran Church may have to close under my pastorate.  There are fewer children in Sunday School.  Most of the regular members now attend once a month instead of every week.  We never know who is going to show up for the choir anthem.  Church just doesn’t seem to be a priority in the lives of people anymore.”

                Pastor Engquist didn’t know what to say, “I wish I knew how to help.  But it’s not you, Liz.  You’re a better pastor and a far better preacher than I ever was.  And it’s happening in every church and in every denomination.”  Then suddenly an inspiration hit him, “I think the problem is that families no longer that the time and energy and effort to provide a firm foundation of faith in Jesus Christ for themselves and for their children.  It’s like they spend all their time on the walls of a shed – good grades in school, participating in sports, engaging in the arts, being good citizens – but provide no foundation of faith to hold it level and firm.  And then they’re surprised and angry when the whole thing seems to fall apart.  It’s like the apostle wrote in 1 Peter: Christ is the cornerstone, chosen and precious, and all the faithful will not be put to shame.”

                Pastor Liz was quite impressed,” OK, then help me with this one also.  I have a baptism at church tomorrow for a couple I’ve never heard of before.  They don’t even live around here.  They’re coming up from the Twin Cities just to have their baby baptized at Lake Wobegon Lutheran Church.  I just don’t get it!”

                “Oh, I do,” said the old pastor, “I know them.  I baptized and confirmed the mother here at Lake Wobegon Lutheran many years ago.  And I went down to the Twin Cities to marry the two of them.  They’re coming back to Lake Wobegon Lutheran Church because this is where her family put in the time and commitment to provide for her a firm foundation of faith in Jesus Christ.  And I’m confident that she’ll do the same for her child.”

                Pastor Liz returned to the parsonage thinking, “I don’t know how he does it, but he always seems to say just the right thing.”  The light was flashing on her answering machine.  She pressed the button to hear the voice of one of the distressed mothers from Friday night, “I wanted to call to thank you, Pastor Liz, for your comforting words when I was freaking out about my daughter being so far away at the prom.  It seems I was upset over nothing.  She had a great time and everything went smoothly.  I guess you were right about trusting in the foundation of faith we provided for her.  Somehow you always seem to say the right thing.  Thanks again, and God bless you.”

                Well, the next time I go back home to Lake Wobegon, I’ll have to check out Pastor Engquist’s shed, and his beer can collection, and thank God for my family and all the people of Lake Wobegon Lutheran Church who helped build for me a sure foundation of faith in Jesus Christ.

                And that’s the news from Lake Wobegon, where all the women are strong, all the men are good looking, and all the children are above average.   AMEN.

The Gift of a Grown Up Faith

Sixth Sunday after Epiphany

February 12, 2017

Deuteronomy 30: 15-20

1 Corinthians 3: 1-9

Matthew 5: 21-37

Grace, mercy and peace be unto you from God, our Father, and from our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.  AMEN.

                “You’ll understand it better when you’re all grown up.”  Have you heard that before?  Maybe you’ve even said it to a child yourself.  In your infancy, that was a phrase of acceptable reassurance because you knew there was so much more to learn about life and because you trusted your elders, your parents, your teachers, your leaders, who had so much ore life experience.  But as you grew older, more aware, more mature, and thinking for yourself, it became a phrase of intense irritation.  “How much more grown up do I have to get before it all begins to make sense?”  You ask that, hoping that your time of mature awareness was now at hand.

                But are we ever really ready for full awareness, for deeper understanding, for total revelation, for everything to make complete sense?  Often we can be frightened by the truth, and find its responsibility too hard to handle.

                The Old Testament book of Deuteronomy reviews the history of God’s chosen people after Moses had led the children of Israel, wandering through the wilderness for 40 years.  The key word in that sentence was the word “children,” the children of Israel.  In 40 years they hadn’t done much growing up.  They were still entirely dependent upon Moses, but questioned whether Moses knew where he was going.  They were grateful to the God who delivered them from bondage in Egypt, but were easily distracted by claims of false gods for momentary relief.

                Now they were about to cross the Jordan River to take possession of the Promised Land and become a responsible people, without having Moses any longer to guide them.  It was time for them to grow up.  So Moses sets before them a choice between life and prosperity or death and adversity.

                Sounds like a pretty easy choice!  But it wasn’t for them; just as it isn’t for us.  What choices did we make instead that have led to war and destruction in our world?  What choices have we made instead that have led us to drug addiction, obesity, anger and despair, meaninglessness and faithlessness?  Seeing the look of immature bewilderment again on their faces, Moses answers the question for them: “Choose life!  Choose life, love and faith!”

                It sounds like such a simple formula for success: 1) Love the Lord your God, 2) Obey all of God’s laws, 3) Live long and prosper.  Kind of a combination of Mr. Spock and Joel Osteen!  Many immature Christians still cling to that line of thinking.  It can be attractive when it seems to be supported by such well-defined absolutes.  That is, until, matured by human reality of day to day living and the complexities of life’s hard choices you realize that the only results can be either hypocrisy or impossibility.

                Jesus sat down on a hillside to teach immature hypocrites by focusing on the extreme of impossibility to reveal the gift of a grown up faith.

                “As children you were taught not to kill and you feel pretty smug thinking that you’ve never deliberately murdered anyone.  Well, that was easy!  But you know, don’t you, that every time you lash out in anger against your brother or sister you have killed a little bit of their soul each time.  For that, you should have been thrown into prison for life!

                “As children you were taught not to break your marriage vows.  Single people and faithful couples are breathing a sigh of relief.  But you know, don’t you, that this commandment has more to do with the purity of your soul than with the purity of the bed.  When Jimmy Carter was President of the United States, he confessed in an interview with Playboy magazine that he had broken this commandment because he, along with all the rest of us, can’t help but look at another with lust in our hearts.  For that you should have had your eyes plucked out and your wandering hands cut off!

                “As children you were taught not to bear false witness and to put the best construction on everything.  Oh, come on!  We lie like a rug all the time.  We are all masters of alternative facts.  For that you should all have your mouths washed out with soap!”

                The crowds surrounding Jesus are mystified at his teaching.  It all seems so hopeless.  What then can we do to be saved, to be healthy, to live in everlasting peace?

                Nothing.  You can do nothing to earn your salvation.  You have no choice in the matter.  God can’t let it be dependent upon us children.  The choice is God’s and it is all God’s doing.  Jesus, in his death on the cross, would fulfill the sentence of punishment that we, because of our sin, our bad choices and our disobedience, deserve.  And Jesus, in his resurrection from the grave, would win the victory over sin and death and open the gate to true peace, true prosperity, true love and true life, that we, because of our sin, our bad choices and our disobedience, could never possibly deserve.  Jesus used the alarmingly bad news of our inability to decide to obey and turned it into the good news of a free gift, the blessing of a God who loves all the children of humanity.

                St. Paul is still concerned about this.  He’s not certain that the children of human flesh can fully appreciate and incorporate such a Gospel message of God’s grace, love and forgiveness in their words and actions.  It’s so much safer to continue to treat them like little children.  But if he were to treat them like grown up Christians, would they act towards one another lie grown up Christians and leave behind their jealousies and their quarreling?  Having heard and received the gift of a grown up faith, would they then act and speak in the maturity of that faith?  Having been reconciled to God through the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ, would they then be reconciled to one another, sharing the peace of Christ which passes all human understanding?

                I would rather choose to treat us all as adults, as grown up Christians, acutely aware of our sins, but even more joyfully aware of God’s grace, striving to make better choices for ourselves and for our world, focused on being connected and in touch with God’s will for our lives, praising and giving thanks to God for all the blessings we have received and that we have to share with others, and embarking upon a Promised Land where all God’s children may know peace, prosperity and everlasting life.

                Maybe we’ll all understand it better when we’re all grown up.  AMEN.

THE LAZARUS/JUDAS CONNECTION

 

            Firstly, please understand that this is an off-the-wall hypothesis, with no intention to challenge or harm anyone’s faith.  Nor do I believe that it is in any way disrespectful to the authority of Scripture.  I believe that the Bible is quite dynamic and constantly revealing.  It is indeed appropriate for us to ask the far out questions and allow the Bible to speak to us afresh today.  As long as there are unanswered questions, then we must keep asking and searching.  Such is one point about why I engage in such speculation.

            I have long been intrigued by the story of the raising of Lazarus (John 11:1-53).  It is surrounded by so many unanswered questions: Who was Lazarus?  Why is this story only told in the Gospel of John?  Is Jesus’ parable about the rich man and Lazarus (told only in Luke 16:19-31) about the same person?  Whatever happened to Lazarus?  If the Gospel of John is the first of the gospels written (as I suppose), did the other gospel writers deliberately exclude the story of Jesus’ miraculous and revelatory resuscitation of Lazarus?  And, if so, why?

            My hypothesis is that the raising of Lazarus became such a point of embarrassment in the early Christian Church that Mark and Matthew, writing gospels for the convincing and converting of Jews and Gentiles to Christianity, deliberately chose not to include this event from Jesus’ ministry.  It was difficult to explain why Jesus would chose to delay his visit to the ailing Lazarus (John 11:6) when he loved him so much.  It is difficult to explain why Jesus would raise someone from the dead, only for that person to die again.  The point is too difficult to explain in an evangelical treatise.  Luke, on the other hand, specifically tells us that he is making a scholarly attempt at reconciling all the evidence about Jesus (Luke 1:1-4).  How then can Luke ignore the raising of Lazarus?  Still being sensitive to the embarrassing nature of the incident, Luke includes Lazarus in the form of a parable told by Jesus about the great chasm between heaven and earth.

            How much more embarrassing does the raising of Lazarus appear if the person raised from the dead by someone who loves him so much becomes the person who later turns Jesus over to the Jewish authorities, leading to Jesus’ crucifixion!

            How did I ever get there?

            All the Biblical evidence supports the existence of a family unit in Bethany of two sisters and a brother: Mary, Martha and Lazarus ( John 11:1-3).  But when Luke tells the famous story about Mary and Martha (Luke 10:38-42) there is no mention at all of Lazarus.  Lazarus has again been expunged from the story.

            Later in Chapter 12:1-11, Jesus again comes to Bethany, to the home of Mary, Martha, and Lazarus, where Mary anoints Jesus and wipes his feet with her hair.  Judas Iscariot, who seems to be a distinctly different person, objects at the apparent wastefulness.  He seems to be a corrupt Treasurer (John 12:6).  Is this the same Mary and the same story as Matthew 26:6-13?  We are told here that this anointing takes place in Bethany at the home of Simon the leper.  Is Simon the father of Mary, Martha and Lazarus?  How interesting that immediately following this we are told about Judas’ contract to betray Jesus!

            Now go to John 13.  This is John’s version of the Last Supper.  Notice in verse 2 and verse 26 how Judas is referred to as: “Judas Iscariot, Simon’s son,” or “Judas, the son of Simon Iscariot.”  Is this the same Simon the leper who seems to be the father of Mary, Martha, and Lazarus?

            The table seating is a bit curious at John’s version of the Last Supper.  By the table conversation and actions that take place it is apparent that John, the disciple whom Jesus loved, is on one side of Jesus (13:23) and that Judas is on the other (13:26).  The place on the right hand of Jesus would be a place of honor for the disciple whom Jesus loved, while the place on the left hand of Jesus would be for the host.  Is Judas the host? i.e. this last supper is taking place in the home of Judas, the son of Simon?  It is interesting to read in Psalm 41:9 this prophetic word: “Even my bosom friend in whom I trusted, who ate of my bread, has lifted his heel against me.”  The term “bosom friend” may not be one we associate with Judas, but it most certainly is one we would identify with Lazarus (John 11: 3, 5, 36).

            Finally, what about the name, Lazarus?  I propose that “Lazarus” was something of a nickname that Judas, son of Simon, and brother of Mary and Martha, received at his raising from the dead.  Only John retains that nickname stemming from that event.  It is derived from 11:43 when Jesus commands the exit of the dead from the tomb.  Lazarus is the Greek version of the Hebrew name/word, Eliezar, meaning, “God is my helper.”  Rather than a calling out by name, this could be something of an invocation preceding the miraculous event.  Roughly translated it would be: “As God is my helper, come out!”  See Psalm 54:4 as an example of such an invocation.  And from then on, Judas is known as Lazarus; at least until Judas betrays the one who raised him from the dead.

            I wonder if the parable of the rich man and Lazarus in Luke - where the rich man, “Divas,” is in eternal torment and “Lazarus” rests in the bosom of Abraham - is meant to represent the two natures of Judas.

            That, in a nutshell, is my theory.  It’s meant to be as curious, interesting, and something to make you go, “Humm!”

 

 

WHO IS MY NEIGHBOR?

Eighth Sunday after Pentecost

Deuteronomy 30: 9-14
Colossians 1: 1-14
Luke 10: 25-37

            Well, it has been a quiet week in Lake Wobegon, my hometown, out there at the gateway to Central Minnesota.  Just when you might have thought there would be no more news from Lake Wobegon, there are still stories to be told about my peaceful little village.

            Pastor Liz felt the need to get away from it all; and by that, I think she meant everything going on in our country and in our world.  So she had requested permission of the council of the Lake Wobegon Lutheran Church to attend a three day, silent retreat in Minneapolis.  Vic Tollefson, who had replaced his father, Val Tollefson, as council president after his dad had served in that capacity for over 50 years – all throughout the tenure of the previous pastor, David Engqvist (there were no term limit at Lake Wobegon Lutheran Church) – Vic had questioned why the pastor would have to leave Lake Wobegon and travel to the Twin Cities for a quiet retreat.  But Vic wasn’t as stubborn as his sainted father, who opposed female clergy and vowed that the only way there would be a woman in the pulpit of Lake Wobegon Lutheran Church was over his dead body.  And that’s what it took for Pastor Liz to be called to serve there.  So her request was granted.

            The retreat lasted late into Saturday evening, later than Pastor Liz expected and it was dark by the time the closing service ended; probably because, with no one speaking, it was hard to tell when the worship was actually over.

            Now, whenever Pastor Liz drove in the Twin Cities, she would deliberately avoid the black sections of town.  She never thought of herself as a racist – she grew up in New Jersey, dontcha know.  But she was careful and she was practical.  When you live in a quiet town of Norwegian Lutherans and German Catholics, black people (and any other color) were considered suspect.

            But the fastest way to the interstate that would take her north, back to home, was straight through the heart of the most dangerous part of the city.  It was late.  She was in a hurry.  She hadn’t yet written a sermon for the next morning’s worship.  Lutheran pragmatism won out over prejudicial fear.  She would just lock all the doors, roll up the windows, and pray that nothing goes wrong.

            Then the car began to swerve and bounce.  It wasn’t a pot hole on the poorly maintained streets; she had a flat tire.  What was she going to do now?  About to curse God under her breath for not answering her prayer, she noticed in the rearview mirror that the driver of the car behind her was the Bishop of Bemidgi, who also had attended the retreat.

            Not wanting to block traffic, she pulled off onto a side street.  Feeling great relief, she jumped out of her car in time to see the Bishop drive straight on through, pointing at his wrist watch and shaking his head.  “I suppose he does have farther to travel,” thought Pastor Liz.

            She hopped back in her car and locked the doors.  There would be no more help from fellow clergy.  No one would be able to see her now.  She returned to her prayers, praying for God’s protection and deliverance.

            Further down the street, red lights were flashing.  As they approached closer, she could hear the siren of a police car.  “Thank you, God!” she exclaimed.  But there must have been a situation far worse than hers way beyond, and the police car screamed right past her.  “May God bless and protect our dedicated public servants,” she whispered, “now more than ever.”

            Tears welled up in the Pastor’s eyes; tears of frustration, tears of fear, tears of regret.  “I could sit here and cry,” she thought, “or I can assess my situation and do something about it.”  Her father, a Jersey mechanic, would not let young Liz drive a car until she was able to change a tire.  So she knew how to, she had just never had to do it.  She steeled herself to change the tire on her own, quickly and efficiently, with the hope of avoiding any trouble.  One, two, three steps, just like her father taught her, and she would be back on the road to home.

            She popped open the trunk and got out of the car.  There was the spare tire donut.  The jack and crow bar were lodged underneath it.  Why did she park under a blown out street lamp?  It looked like it had been shot out, of course.  Changing a tire in the dark of night would add to the challenge.  She braced the jack under the left, front tire well, inserted the crow bar and began pumping.  It was just like blowing up a kiddie pool, as the car began to rise.

            The thought of blowing up only increased her fear.

            The hub cap came off without any trouble and she set to work on removing the lug nuts.  Four came off, after great effort on her part, but the fifth was locked.  Who locks lug nuts?  Not anybody in Lake Wobegon!  Why, she even leaves her keys in the car at night.  At least now, nobody would be able to steal her flat tire.

            Throwing the crow bar down in disgust, she hit the hub cap, scattering the lug nuts she had safely placed there (as her father has taught her).  “Oh, frick!” she yelled.  But that wasn’t really the word she used.  She turned to see the legs of a tall, stocky black man hovering over her.  She fell backwards against the car as he took one step closer.  “What’ a nice, white girl like you doing in a neighborhood like this?” he snarled; at least, that’s what it sounded like to her.

            “Oh, God, please don’t hurt me!” she pleaded, “I had a flat tire and I just want to fix it and be on my way.”  “I ain’t God,” he said, “and I ain’t here to hurt you.  I’m here to help you.  I was driving in front of you when I saw your car swerve and you pulled into this side street.  It really isn’t safe here at night.  So, I came back around to give you a hand.”

            “O, my God, thank you so much,” she cried with relief.  “Again, I’m not God,” he said.  “It just looked like you could use a Good Samaritan.  Now, I see you need a lug nut key.”

            “I never knew there was such a thing,” she confessed.  Checking the glove compartment, nothing was found.  “I could call AAA.”

            “Naw, they won’t come into this neighborhood at night.  You’ll have to wait until morning.”

            “But what can I do?  I have to work in the morning.”

            “What is it you do?” he asked.

            “I’m the pastor of the Lutheran Church in Lake Wobegon.”  She noticed a change in his expression.  A snide look crossed his face, or was it a smile? 

            “You’re a long way from our home, Pastor Liz.”

            “Our home, and how do you know my name?”

            “I live just down the block from you.  We’re actually neighbors.  Stanley Murphy’s the name.  Pleased to make your acquaintance.”  A black man she had never seen or met before is her neighbor?  In Lake Wobegon?  Who would have thunk it?  “Leave your car here.  At least nobody will steal your tire.”  He laughed, but she didn’t.  “I’ll take you home.  Then I’ll come to your church service in the morning and we’ll drive back down here and take care of all this.”

            The lawyer, seeking to exonerate himself when he heard Jesus say that loving one’s neighbor as one’s self was a sign of righteousness, asked, “And just who is my neighbor?”

            Now Pastor Liz had her sermon for today’s worship.  During the silent retreat she had been reading this quote from Dr. David Lose, the president of the seminary in Philadelphia, out there in Pennsylvania and she wanted to use it in her sermon: (This) is not simply a lesson (to be learned); it is also a promise.  God comes where we least expect God to be because God comes for all.  The self-justifying lawyer and the outcast Samaritan; the refugees and (the politicians); those in need, those who help them, and those who turn away.  No one is beyond the pale of God’s mercy, grace, and redemption.  And if we’re not sure, keep in mind that Jesus…set his face to go to Jerusalem, and there he will not only suffer and die on the cross to show us just how far God will go to demonstrate God’s love, but also forgive those who crucify him.  No one is beyond the reach of God’s love.  No one.  And so Jesus brings (us) home by choosing the most unlikely of characters to serve as the instrument of God’s mercy and grace and exemplify Christ-like behavior.  That’s what God does: God chooses people no one expects and does amazing things through them.  Even a Samaritan… Even me.  Even you.

            Maybe Stanley did attend worship at Lake Wobegon Lutheran today.  Maybe he was the messenger of God, sent to answer the prayers of Pastor Liz.  I guess you never know who your neighbors are, or who your neighbor might be.

            That’s the news from Lake Wobegon; where all the women are strong, all the men are good looking, and all the children are above average.  AMEN.

July 10, 2016

Advent I 2015 - Karen McIntyre's sermon

Jeremiah 33:14-16 New International Version (NIV)

¹⁴ ‘The days are coming,’ declares the Lord, ‘when I will fulfill the good promise I made to the people of Israel and Judah.

¹⁵ ‘In those days and at that time
    I will make a righteous Branch sprout from David’s line;
    he will do what is just and right in the land.
¹⁶ In those days Judah will be saved
    and Jerusalem will live in safety.
This is the name by which it^[a] will be called:
    The Lord Our Righteous Savior.'

1 Thessalonians 3:9-13 New International Version (NIV)

⁹ How can we thank God enough for you in return for all the joy we have in the presence of our God because of you? ¹⁰ Night and day we pray most earnestly that we may see you again and supply what is lacking in your faith.

¹¹ Now may our God and Father himself and our Lord Jesus clear the way for us to come to you. ¹² May the Lord make your love increase and overflow for each other and for everyone else, just as ours does for you. ¹³ May he strengthen your hearts so that you will be blameless and holy in the presence of our God and Father when our Lord Jesus comes with all his holy ones.

Luke 21:25-36 New International Version (NIV)

²⁵ “There will be signs in the sun, moon and stars. On the earth, nations will be in anguish and perplexity at the roaring and tossing of the sea. ²⁶ People will faint from terror, apprehensive of what is coming on the world, for the heavenly bodies will be shaken. ²⁷ At that time they will see the Son of Man coming in a cloud with power and great glory. ²⁸ When these things begin to take place, stand up and lift up your heads, because your redemption is drawing near.”

²⁹ He told them this parable: “Look at the fig tree and all the trees. ³⁰ When they sprout leaves, you can see for yourselves and know that summer is near. ³¹ Even so, when you see these things happening, you know that the kingdom of God is near.

³² “Truly I tell you, this generation will certainly not pass away until all these things have happened. ³³ Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will never pass away.

³⁴ “Be careful, or your hearts will be weighed down with carousing, drunkenness and the anxieties of life, and that day will close on you suddenly like a trap. ³⁵ For it will come on all those who live on the face of the whole earth. ³⁶ Be always on the watch, and pray that you may be able to escape all that is about to happen, and that you may be able to stand before the Son of Man.”

 

Well, what a way to start this Advent season! The word advent means coming. You thought you were coming here this Sunday to begin focusing on the first coming of Jesus - with images of "Peace" - "Righteousness" - "Safety" - and instead our Gospel lesson skips right to the end of the story, to the second coming of Christ - with images of "Anguish" - "Terror" - "Death". In light of what's happening in our world today, I believe that what we need this morning is to hear the wonderful Advent messages from the angels, "Fear Not" and "Peace on Earth, goodwill toward Man." And so, that is the message I promise you. I'm going to challenge you to imagine and think and feel, as I take you to uncomfortable places, in order to get from "Fear" to "Fear Not," from "Death" to "Life," from the ending back to the beginning.

As we work our way through, we're going to look at reactions, so first let's look at the types of instinctual reactions. In the face of danger, there are three primal reactions for self-preservation: FIGHT, FLIGHT, and FREEZE. Each of us has one reaction that tends to dominate.

So back to our first lesson… What did people expect from the promised Messiah? They were expecting a righteous branch from David, a king that would deliver the people of Judah & Israel to safety. They didn't get what they expected, did they? Almost as soon as we hear the angels telling the shepherds “do not be afraid,” we have the story of them telling Joseph, “your family is in danger, flee to Egypt;” and of Herod ordering the murder of male children under two in the region surrounding Bethlehem. Can you imagine the chaos? What instinct can be stronger than self-preservation? The instinct of a parent to protect their child. Do you think that some of the parents got wind of the annihilation and tried to flee or hide to keep their sons alive? Wouldn’t you? And you would pray that a distant relative or stranger would assist you, give you or your child food and shelter, help you to find a safe place to live… perhaps to wait out the danger or perhaps to start anew.

Our only clue, to how few of the boys survived, is the passage from Jeremiah chapter 31, “Rachel weeping for her children and refusing to be comforted, because they are no more.” Perhaps those who might have helped were afraid to put themselves and their own families at risk.

Mary & Joseph were the lucky ones. They began to flee early enough to make it out of the region before the murder began. But picture this... First Mary and Joseph travel 90 miles by foot from Nazareth to Bethlehem; they leave their home and all they know behind. And when they get to what was once the home of Joseph’s ancestors, they don’t have any family or friends to stay with; they can’t find anyone to take them in. They end up accepting a shelter fit for livestock, because it’s better than no shelter at all. Now they face another journey of 300-400 miles to Egypt with no idea of how or where they will live; or when, even if, they can return to the home they left behind in Nazareth. That’s daunting. But you would do that if you believed it was the only way to save your child, wouldn’t you? And you would pray that you could gain entry to this foreign land and find foreigners that would assist you, give your family food and shelter, help you to find a safe place to live while you wait out the danger.

Let’s flash forward about 1940 years, when Jews, not unlike Jesus’ family, are trying desperately to flee, first Hitler’s Germany, and then other Nazi-occupied territories. Some acted on their initial instinct to flee or to send family members to safety when the unrest first began. Anne Frank’s uncles were among those that were able to obtain visas to the US and re-settled in the Boston area. Her immediate family, however, first fled to the Netherlands where they had family ties. It wasn't until later that they began the application process for visas to the US. By this time, American anxieties and suspicions towards European immigrants had increased, and the US government enacted restrictions that made an already difficult process, impossible for most. Despite family members already in the country and highly-connected people making appeals to the National Refugee Service on their behalf, Anne Frank’s family was not able to obtain visas to the US. They later were forced into hiding, but were eventually discovered. Anne, her sister, and her mother, together with millions of other Jews, died in a concentration camp.

Who remembers Anne’s words from a 1944 entry in her diary, "It's a wonder I haven't abandoned all my ideals, they seem so absurd and impractical. Yet I cling to them because I still believe, in spite of everything, that people are truly good at heart."

While the Franks, and other like them in occupied Europe, were trying to fight, flee, or hide to protect themselves and their families – And wouldn’t you? – here in the US, people were also filled with fear. They were afraid of these foreigners: maybe there were spies among them, or a relative back in Germany that could be used as leverage to force them into actions that could put us, and our families, at risk.

Now I’ve really sunk this message into an ugly place, this pit where everyone is reacting out of fear. Our reactions to fear, as I’ve said, are primal – preservation of self and family, and sometimes, of family over self.

But, thank God we have heroes. These are the amazing people that seem to be programmed with a heightened altruistic instinct to put themselves in harm’s way to save or protect fellow human beings - often complete strangers:  firefighters, the Red Cross, Doctors Without Borders, military, humanitarian workers.

These are the trained emergency workers that ran towards danger on the morning of 9/11, when others followed their instincts to run out. And those fleeing, who put themselves at risk, because they came upon a person that couldn’t make it out without their help. Or those that initially seemed to freeze, and then weighed options and came up with plans that involved working with or assisting others to save one another.

These are the men and women that hid Jews, sharing meagre food rations, often for years – despite the ever-present danger to their own families. The ones that ran networks to smuggle Jews to safety. The ones that snuck back into the Warsaw ghetto to try to help get others out.

These are the men and women and children, like you and me, who despite our fear of strangers, remember that Jesus once was a refugee and a stranger in Egypt, and that people assisted his family in their flight and settling into a foreign land; and remember what Jesus taught us in Mark chapter 3, that every human being is our brother and our sister; and remember that Jesus died on the cross to save us, and to secure us a place in his heavenly home when we come to him in paradise.

 

So, we suppress our instinctual reaction to fight or to flight, and we freeze for a bit. We don’t react out of our fear, we pause to pray and focus on Christ, then when we chose to act – not react – we do so out of love for our human family, all of our brothers and sisters, including the refugees, who like Mary and Joseph, and the Frank’s, had no choice but to attempt to flee to a foreign land.

We believe it when the angels say “Fear Not” because we know that Christ came into this world to die for us that we no longer have to fear death, but will have eternal life.

Outside of the Bataclan Concert Hall in Paris, a discussion between a father and his little three year old son ensued when a reporter asked the boy if he understood what had happened here yesterday.

The boy says:  We have to be really careful, we have to change houses.

F:  Oh no don’t worry… we don’t need to move out. France is our home.

B:  But there’s bad guys daddy… They have guns and they can shoot us because they’re really, really mean.

F:  It’s okay, they might have guns but we have flowers.

B:  But flowers don’t do anything daddy.

F:  Of course they do, look, everyone is putting flowers here. It’s to fight the guns.

B:  And the candles, too?

F:  Yes son, it’s to remember the people who are gone yesterday.

B:  The flowers and candles are here to protect us, daddy?

F:  Yes.

Yes indeed, the flowers and candles are there [point to altar] to remember the people who are gone – and right in the middle of them is the Cross… our reminder that they may be gone to us, but they are alive with Christ. Fear Not, through that Cross, Christ conquered death, and in turn, will bring us to a new life in his kingdom.

And that is the message this morning: we can move from "Fear" to "Fear Not," from "Death" to "Life," from an ending to a new beginning, when we invite Christ into our home and our hearts.

Amen

FREE MEAL

The Eleventh Sunday after Pentecost

1 Kings 19: 4-8

Ephesians 4: 25—5:2

John 6: 35, 41-51

Grace, mercy and peace be unto you from God, our Father, and from our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.  Amen.

                Well, it has been a quiet week in Lake Wobegon, MN, my hometown.  And the weekends are especially quiet in the summertime when everyone in town heads out to their lake camps, and once they’re settled in at camp there’s nothing that will lure them away.  You can’t lure fishermen; they know all the tricks when it comes to hooking a walleye.  So the quietest place on a Sunday morning is inside of the Lake Wobegon Lutheran Church.  On a beautiful Sunday morning you could shoot a cannon through the pews of the Lutheran Church and not hurt a soul.

                Pastor Liz is from that part of New Jersey where a tornado would cause one million dollars worth of improvements.  She has no understanding of the traditions of the folks from the land of 10,000 lakes.  Whether fleeing the hustle and bustle of the Twin Cities or the gossip and keen eyes of their neighbors, the folks of Lake Wobegon find refuge and escape in their lake camps.  Pastor Liz has tried everything she can think of to bring them back to town for Sunday worship – picnic services, hymns sings.  She even tried a Saturday night service at the lakefront park using her guitar and singing camp songs, but only a visiting Lutheran pastor and his wife from Bemidji attended.  She put up a sign on the front lawn of the church advertising “Free meal every Sunday morning.”  Maybe people would think it clever and come on in.

                Last Sunday, after spending the night on a park bench in Millett (which if you know Millett you know that is luxurious accommodations!) anyway – Chad Michael Orozco had already hiked seven miles when he arrived in Lake Wobegon at about the time worship had started at Lake Wobegon Lutheran.  He was hungry and thirsty and the sign out front offing a free meal seemed like a sign from God.  God had been miraculously providing for him all during his crusade to raise up soldiers for Jesus to travel with him to Israel to fight the final eschatological battle of Armageddon verses Satan and his demons.

                He sat down in the last pew, usually occupied by good Lutherans, as Pastor Liz began her sermon, figuring this must be like the Salvation Army where you get fed a sermon before you get fed a meal.

                Pastor Liz was in a funky mood.  All her creative evangelism efforts weren’t working, except for this one suspicious looking and sounding stranger.  The few in the pews all turned their heads to stare at him.  Plus, now in her fourth year of ministry, she was going through the lectionary readings a second time, dealing again with a month of Sundays on the Gospel of John, chapter 6.  I mean, how much more could she say about the feeding of the 5,000?  Especially when hardly anyone was there to be fed.  For her, it was more like the feeding of the 15, and that didn’t seem like much of a miracle.

                In her mind it was inconceivable that people could go a whole week without being nourished at the table of the Lord.  Corporate worship is that unique opportunity to be fed both by the Word of God in song, scripture, sermon and prayer; and fed by the Word of God in bread and wine, the very presence of Jesus in flesh and blood.  We call it Holy Communion because we commune with Jesus and with one another in community.  In the sharing of bread and wine, Jesus promises to be with us and to feed us just as he miraculously fed the 5,000.  You can’t do that watching Joel Osteen or Joyce Meyer.  You can’t do that alone at your summer camp.  It is the essence of what it means to be the church.

                There have been times when she has come this close to giving up, feeling that all her work as a pastor was to no avail.  But, even as she preached that Elijah had the choice to give up and die or to get up and eat, so she wasn’t about to give up and she surely didn’t want to die.  So she would continue to get up and eat and to live in the promise of the living bread from heaven.

                So also thought Peter (Chad Michael Orozco went by the name of Peter because it was a holy name.  Peter was a disciple’s name.  There was no disciple named Chad or Michael, even though that was at least an angel’s name), “I have also come close to giving up and dying.  And now, I really need something to eat.”

                People began to stand up and form something like a serving line, so he got up and joined them.  Kneeling with the others at the altar railing, he was disappointed to get a small wafer of bread placed in his hands and a tiny shot glass of wine.  But then he thought, “Ah, appetizers!  Cool.”  But just then everybody got up, went back to their seats, sang a hymn and then they were done.

                Following the others out down the center aisle, he was greeted by Pastor Liz.  “Hello,” he said, “You can call me Peter.  I came for the free meal.”

                “Yes,” laughed Pastor Liz, “Thank you for joining us today.”

                Peter stared at her for an uncomfortable moment and finally broke the silence, “So, when do we eat?  I’m starving.”

                “Oh, no,” replied Pastor Liz, ‘The bread and the wine, that’s the meal of Holy Communion which Jesus gives to us freely by his grace and love.  It’s not food for the stomach that fails after a few hours and then you’re hungry again.  It’s food for your soul.  Jesus is the living bread that comes down from heaven.  When we eat his body, that is the bread, and drink his blood, that is the wine we are fed for eternal life.  That’s why we gather every Sunday to share this holy meal.

                Pastor Liz quickly realized how disappointed Peter seemed.  While feeding the soul is done every Sunday at Lake Wobegon Lutheran Church, she knew that feeding the body was ministry also.  Every Tuesday in the summer the church serves hot dogs and macaroni and cheese to the poor children in town who have no camp to go to.  And they host a free hot dinner every Tuesday night during the grueling Minnesota winter to anyone who wants to come.

                “Come on downstairs with me, Peter,” invited Pastor Liz, “we can whip you up some macaroni and cheese.”  From the dozen of boxes on the counter Pastor Liz grabbed one and mixed up the ingredients and cooked it in the microwave.  Peter ate until he was stuffed and Pastor Liz joined him in the meal.  And there was still plenty left over.  Pastor Liz then realized that she had just witnessed a true miracle of divine providence.  She only wished 5,000 people could have witnessed it as well.

                Refreshed and full, Peter got up to leave and continue his journey.  Pastor Liz refused his invitation to go to Israel with him, saying she would take her chances staying right there in Lake Wobegon.  This time Peter shook Pastor Liz’s hand gratefully and said, “I’m really glad your sign out front wasn’t lying.  Thanks for the free meal – both of them.”

 

                That’s the news from Lake Wobegon where all the women are strong, all the men are good looking and all the children are above average.  AMEN.

Rev. James Slater

Emanuel and St. Luke’s Lutheran Churches

Stuyvesant Falls and Valatie, NY

August 9, 2015