November 20, 2011 - Christ the King Sunday

Jesus Cares for the Least of These

Matthew 25:31-46

Christ the King Sunday – November 20, 2011

This gospel passage is one of my favorites. I love it because of the vision it gives of what it will look like, at least in part, it gives us one aspect, when the kingdom comes and God's will is done – the place where the hungry are fed, and the thirsty given something to drink, and the naked clothed, and the stranger welcomed, and the sick cared for, & the imprisoned visited. And these, I think, are just a sample of the ways that the troubles and tragedies of this human life will be healed and returned to wholeness. They don't begin to speak of all of the ways people and creation are wounded and broken, but they remind us that God cares for the entire spectrum of human experience; that God is concerned for everyone, and is looking out especially for the last and the lost and the least; that God has not forgotten the lonely and the outcast and the neglected of this world.

Of course, this same passage – with God's vision of what the world will be like when the kingdom comes in its fullness – is a stark reminder that the kingdom has not completely arrived yet. We don't have to look far to know that we are surrounded by people in need – people who are hungry and thirsty, people who lack clothing and have no place to lay their heads, people who are sick or imprisoned physically, emotionally, or spiritually; people who are forgotten and ignored by the rest of the world; people who are powerless and voiceless in the face of the struggles and obstacles in front of them.

And that's where this passage goes from inspiring to challenging. Because what Jesus says to his disciples as he describes the end of time makes it pretty clear that we human beings have a responsibility to each other. We are expected to look out for each other, to help each other. We are called to move past self-interest and into compassionate action for the sake of those in need, in our individual and congregational and community lives – politically, economically, spiritually. And that's not easy to do, caught up as we are in living our own lives, in wrestling with our own problems, worrying about our situations. It's quite easy to turn a blind eye to the trouble we see around us – we're too busy to reach out and make the effort; we're afraid we'll be taken advantage of and made a fool – or worse!; we just don't see how whatever little thing we could do could begin to make a difference. We have lots of reasons for not getting involved, many ways to justify why it is we don't do something...

And then we read Matthew's gospel and it stops us short. Because Jesus says to those at his right hand (the sheep), “'Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me. '” - And then he says to those at his left (the goats), “'...[the king] will answer them, 'Truly I tell you, just as you did not do it to one of the least of these, you did not do it to
me.'  46 And these will go away into eternal punishment, but the righteous into eternal life."

Whew. Stark words – because we know we fail to live up to them. We know that there have been times when we have turned our backs on someone who needed help, when we have walked past someone, averting our eyes, pretending we can't see or hear their requests for help, when we have refused to see Christ in the least of these... and we really don't want to end up with the goats, going away into eternal punishment. We want to be put on the sheep side – righteous, entering into eternal life.

But eternal life isn't just something that starts when we die. In John 17, verse 3, Jesus says, “And this is eternal life, that they may know you, the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom you have sent.” Eternal life begins in knowing God the Father and Jesus the Son – and that starts here & now. We are invited into that relationship today – every day – continually. And if we know them, our lives will show the fruit of that relationship. Walking with them and living like them becomes a part of our daily living – so that we're not always fretting about being on our best behavior because we are afraid of being punished, but instead are being set free from fear, and formed to live like Jesus more and more every day. We learn to follow in his footsteps, to do the things he did and is still doing in the world – to see, really see those in need and stop to help, to show compassion and mercy. It's not so about making sure we complete a checklist – I said way back in the beginning that this isn't a comprehensive list – it's about the way we live our whole lives – leaving time and space in our day to day for relationships – so that we might be able to recognize the face of Jesus our King in the faces of the least of these. It's about honoring Christ, the good shepherd who looks for the lost sheep, who has a special concern for the downcast, the powerless, the voiceless, the victim.

In following Jesus, we become like him, and in becoming like him, we learn to live like him. And in learning to live like him we become fit for the kingdom, the kingdom that we wait for yet still finds ways to break in and break through even now. We learn to speak the language of God's kingdom – the language of self-giving love. We learn the customs of God's reign – acts of sharing and hospitality and mercy. We practice here and now so that when the kingdom comes, we'll be ready to live there, under the rule of the one who does “these things” to the least of these, even us.

He feeds us with his body. He nourishes us with his blood. He welcomes us to his table, not as strangers, but as invited guests. He clothes us with his righteousness, cares for us in our sickness, and sets us free from all that imprisons us. Knowing how deeply we are loved by him, may we learn to share that love with the world.

Amen.

November 13, 2011 - Pentecost + 22

The following sermon was delivered at St. Peter's, Baldwin, NY, as part of a pulpit swap with Pr. Ed Barnett for both churches' "Commitment Sunday" - the culmination of the fall financial stewardship program.

God Entrusts Us with Great Resources

Matthew 25:14-30

Pentecost + 22, November 16, 2011

Commitment Sunday, St. Peter's, Baldwin

Good morning. I'm glad to be here with you in worship this morning as you bring your annual stewardship program to completion. It's kind of funny that the theme of this year was “Enter into the Joy!” Joy isn't usually the thing most of us think about when we think about our financial giving at church, whether when we're in the middle of the yearly commitment or any other time.

I think that's because money is a source of great anxiety. Whether it's how we'll make it, or how we should spend it, or whether we'll have enough to keep if we give some of it away, money causes us stress. That's always been true, at least for most people I know, but especially in the past few years, with the financial crisis and the recession and the stalled economy, we tend to worry about money. Can I pay the mortgage and the heat and still have money left for food? What am I gonna do now that my retirement fund has dropped? How will I find a way to get the car fixed? Even if we're relatively secure in our jobs and financial situations, there's always that little voice in the back of our heads, the one that pipes up late at night when we're trying to sleep - “What if...?” With all the uncertainty about our finances that haunts us, it seems a bit ironic, not to mention bold! – for us to talk about financial stewardship and entitle it “Enter into the Joy!”

It's hard to be joyful when we're afraid. We see that in the life and actions of the 3rd slave Matthew's gospel tells us about. We have 4 main characters in this parable Jesus shares: the master and three slaves. The master is getting ready to go away on a journey, and he comes to these three servants and “entrusts his property to them”. One gets 5 talents, one gets 2, one gets 1 talent, each according to his ability. Then he goes away. He never tells them what to do with the money he gives them. I mean, we can assume that he wants them to handle it well and get him a return on his investment, but he doesn't give them specific instructions. He trusts them to take care of it. And so off go slaves 1 and 2 - “at once” they go and trade with the talents and come back having doubled it. But then we come to the third man. He goes and buries his 1 talent in the ground, and when the master finally comes back to settle accounts, he digs it up, brushes it off, and brings it back with these words: “Master... I was afraid, so I went and hid your talent in the ground.”

That's all the gospel tells us, but can't you imagine this poor man worrying about this money, constantly going back to check on the spot to make sure it was still there. It makes me think of that insurance commercial with the dog who couldn't sleep for fear that his bone would disappear, so he kept going and getting it from its hiding spot and putting it someplace new, only to go out again in a little while and move it to a new place. The bone & his fear of losing it took over his imagination until he could not rest for worrying about it. Of course, in the commercial, that all comes to an end when he gets it properly insured... but that's not the case here. So not only does he face this harsh critique and punishment at the end of the parable, but the whole time the money was in his care, you can almost guess that he was worried about it, fretting over it, obsessing, losing sleep. All for fear of what would happen if he lost it.

Compare that to the other 2 slaves. We don't get the sense that they were worried or nervous or anxious. They just went out boldly and got to work, using what had been entrusted to their care to be about the master's business. Now when the Master returns, they get praise and congratulations, and the invitation to enter into the joy of their master – but I'm betting the joy didn't start there – The joy starts when the master gives them these tremendous amounts of money and trusts them with it. And these were tremendous, immense, unimaginable amounts of money. One talent was worth 15 years of wages. So the guy who got 5 talents – 75 years worth of wages. The one who got 2 talents? - 30 years of wages! Even the slave who only got 1 talent had 15 years worth of paychecks at his disposal. Wow! That's trust! That's confidence in these men! What an honor, a joy, to realize how much faith the master has in you!

Even more amazing is when we start to realize the great resources God has entrusted into our care, in order for us to be carrying out God's work in the world. Not so we can double God's money – but so that the work of God's kingdom is multiplied and increased! Certainly we are blessed as individuals – but also as churches. The average Lutheran gives slightly less than 2% of their income to the church – yet look what we do with that tiny amount. We use it for God's work, through our congregations and the national church, to change lives, to make a difference, to open places where God's kingdom can break through – God's kingdom showing up wherever God's will is done – where, as we'll hear in next week's Gospel, the hungry are fed, and the thirsty are given a drink, and the stranger is welcomed, and the naked are clothed, and the sick are cared for, and the imprisoned are visited. We do all of these things – from food pantries to after school programs to disaster response and relief – and it starts with that meager 2% of giving from our members.

But imagine that instead of being afraid of losing what we have (as individuals or congregations), we took a leap of faith. Imagine if, instead of describing ourselves as prudent and cautious when it comes to money in the church, we decided to take a page from the 1st two slaves and became bold, willing to take a risk for the sake of God's work. Imagine if we began to see that we have been given what we have, not so hide it away in some hole in the ground to ensure its mere survival, but as a chance to partner with God in God's dream for the world!

And then imagine if we were all bold and brave enough to grow into tithing – that instead of 2% we each gave 10% of our resources. Imagine St. Peter's budget multiplied by 5 times what it currently is. Think about what that would mean for the mission and ministries for this congregation. Not only would you not be worried about money, and meeting the budget and making ends meet – but money would become a source of joy because of the ways you could bless God's creation through it, the difference you could make in the lives of your members, and your neighbors, and your community, and even the world!

There's one council meeting every year that I always look forward to. The rest kind of have their ups and downs, but every October, I am glad to go to council, because that's the month when we have our annual Harvest Festival. And when all the money has been tallied, and expenses paid, that's the meeting where we get to sit around the table and talk about where we get to give that money away. We do keep about 1/3 of it, but the rest of it, usually a couple thousand dollars, we use to bless other people and organizations. And how awesome it is to sit down and talk about money in a way that focuses on what we have to give, rather than what we are afraid we won't receive. That is when I rejoice, knowing we are doing what the Master longs for, that we are multiplying what God has given us for the sake of the other, for the sake of the world.

That joy can be ours. Jesus invites us to enter into this joy – the joy that is found in working with God, trusting deeply enough to take a risk. May the Spirit make us bold enough to put aside our fear and enter into God's joy! Amen.

October 30, 2011 - Reformation Sunday

God Makes A New Covenant
Jeremiah 31:31-34
Reformation Sunday – October 30, 2011

Marriage vows are meant to be kept. They're meant to be forever. That's built right into the traditional vows. The two people getting married promise each other something like this: “I take you to be my spouse; to have and to hold from this day forward, in joy and in sorrow, in plenty and in want, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish as long as we both shall live. This is my solemn vow.”

As long as we both shall live. This is my solemn vow. And yet we all know relationships where those vows are broken, where for one reason or another, the relationship ends before death. Some break-ups take us completely by surprise, the ones where everything seemed good from the outside. And then there are others that we can see coming from a mile away – there are plenty of warning signs along the way that let everyone around know that there's trouble ahead.

The relationship of God and the people of Israel was like that. It was like a marriage – a relationship built upon vows, built upon the covenant – the promises – of God and God's people. God had long ago taken the Hebrew people as God's own, to have and to hold, in joy and in sorrow, in plenty and in want, in sickness and in health, for all time. God promised to care for them, to lead them into the promised land of milk and honey, to provide for them. And in return, the Israelites had promised to love and serve God above all else.

But when we enter into Jeremiah's tale this morning, we find that God and God's people have come to a crossroads. The relationship has been strained to the breaking point. They're undergoing what we might call a trial separation. And everyone should have seen it coming a mile away. After all, God had sent prophet after prophet to them, reminding them of the promises they had made, pleading with them to return to the LORD God with all their hearts. And yet they had gone astray. They have been unfaithful. They have not kept the great commandments we heard Jesus talk about last week – the 2 great commandments that were part of the covenant relationship long before Jesus came along: To love God with all their heart and soul and mind, and to love their neighbors as themselves. They had turned to the worship of other gods. Fearful of the nations surrounding them, they had put their trust in human leaders and human power to protect and shield them, instead of trusting God. They had failed to care for the widow and orphan and stranger in their midst.

And so now here they are, carried into exile in Babylon, cut off from the God who loves them, wondering if there is a chance for reconciliation, if there is any way for love to conquer betrayal, for forgiveness to heal the hurt they have caused God.

We too, break covenant with God. In our baptism, God makes promises to us – claims us as God's own children, vows never to leave us or forsake us, cleanses us from the power of sin – and yet time and time again, we succumb to sin's death grip on us. Like the siren's song, we hear sin singing, and it lures us to our doom, but often we go willingly. We turn away from the God who created and loves us to follow our own path. We fail to be faithful to the promises we make at our baptism – promises which boil down to the 2 great commandments – to love God and love our neighbor. We fall into greed and anger and self-righteousness, into apathy and judgment and harshness. As Jesus says, “Everyone who sins is a slave to sin.” And there are times when we find ourselves at the crossroads, face to face – finally – with the depth of sin, with our own brokenness, forced to admit that we have turned away from God, and wondering how to make it right. Wondering, as the series in Ladies Home Journal says, “Can this marriage be saved?” Can this relationship between God and humankind be healed? Can it be restored?

We hear God's answer to the people of Israel in the words of Jeremiah this morning. It is an announcement and an open invitation for the people to come to the renewal of vows ceremony. Sometimes we do renewal of vows to mark an important anniversary. But sometimes, people who have been through a rough time in their marriage, who have been on shaky ground and come through it want to recommit, want to publicly make promises, to renew their relationship. That's what's happening here: “The days are surely coming, says the Lord, when I will make a new covenant with the house of Israel and the house of Judah. It will not be like the covenant that I made with their ancestors when I took them by the hand to bring them out of the land of Egypt—a covenant that they broke, though I was their husband, says the Lord. But this is the covenant that I will make with the house of Israel after those days, says the Lord: I will put my law within them, and I will write it on their hearts; and I will be their God, and they shall be my people. No longer shall they teach one another, or say to each other, “Know the Lord,” for they shall all know me, from the least of them to the greatest, says the Lord; for I will forgive their iniquity, and remember their sin no more.” God promises a new covenant, a renewed relationship – not based on laws written and recorded on stone tablets, like the Ten Commandments, but a law written on their hearts, inscribed on their souls, where it cannot be lost or misplaced or broken, but is carried within them, built into who they are, revealing their relationship to God, spilling over into their relationships with each other.

This is God re-committing, renewing the vows, through this tremendous willingness to forgive and forget, to put the past behind them and move forward, to grant grace and compassion and mercy that opens the way for the people to return, not just to their homeland, but to God.

God calls us to the same vow renewal ceremony – offering us a new covenant – not one written in stone, but one that comes to us in flesh and blood, the Word Incarnate – Jesus Christ who offers us his body and blood, and with it, forgiveness, mercy, love – this great, undeserved free gift of grace – always free, but never cheap, this grace that cost Jesus his very life.

May we come before God and renew our vows, offering our lives and our love, giving thanks for the love of the One who has promised to love us and be with us - in joy and in sorrow, in plenty and in want, in sickness and in health – all the days of our life.

Amen.