To tell the old, old story (Sermon 3/14)

1 Reply

Joshua 5:9-12; Psalm 32; 2 Corinthians 5:16-21; Luke 15:1-3, 11b-32

The story of the prodigal son is so familiar, most of us could give the highlights of the tale if we were woken up in the middle of the night. Boy takes inheritance, goes and wastes it, comes back, father welcomes him, older brother gets mad, father tells him that he’s been welcome all along.

It’s interesting because as this story becomes familiar and as we hear about prodigals returning more and more often, we begin to miss the sharp edges of the story. The edges that made the story shocking to Luke’s original audience, the edges that made the story uncomfortable to Jesus’ original audience.

This story is full of inappropriate behavior. Let’s start with the younger brother. A man needed two sons to take care of him in his old age. Two sons were needed to keep track of the family land, to keep the lineage going, to uphold the family’s good name. When the younger brother asks for his inheritance, it’s unbelievably bad behavior. I’m talking, selling the fishing boat for cash to buy drugs and wrecking the car on the way to the drug deal and then trying to beat up the police officers before running naked down the highway kind of behavior.

When the younger son asks for his inheritance, he’s telling his father, “I wish you were dead already, so I could have what’s coming to me. But even if you were dead, I don’t respect you or the family enough to keep your property the way you want it.” So the father has to put out a for sale sign, so to speak, so that someone will buy half his land, so that he can give the younger son “what will belong to him.”

Can you imagine how this looked to the neighbors? That the son doesn’t respect his father at all. That the father must have messed up in raising the son to have this kind of behavior and surely has no spine to stand up to him now. Imagine how the clotheslines buzzed when word came back about the son’s behavior, all wine, women and song. And then, of all things, slopping pigs- the dirtiest of animals and the lowest of work.

Jesus’ audience would have cringed at these details and they would have expected the moral right about now to be about tradition and respect. But Jesus goes on. The father, already embarrassed and reduced in social standing, is moping about and spends times daily looking for his son. Maybe he goes to the market each day, instead of sending a servant, hoping to hear some news about his younger boy. He’s spending enough time watching the road that goes in and out of town, where he last saw his son skipping off into the sunset, that people have noticed and they click their tongues. Yet still, he waits until the day when he will either see that familiar gait, way of walking, even before he can recognize the face or until the day he dies, which ever comes first.

The son decides to come home. And as he’s rehearsing his speech, “Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; I am no longer worthy to be called your son; treat me like one of your hired hands.” As he’s looking down and concentrating on one foot in front of the other, he’s suddenly bowled over by his own father who has run (run!!) out to meet him. For ears in the ancient world, this is one of the most horrifying parts of the passage. Men did not run. Older men, respectable men, men of a certain age, did not, for any reason, run. It was beneath their dignity and unimaginable.

But here’s this father, who perhaps has practiced speeches of his own, who is so relieved to see his son that propriety has no place. He sprints to his son and throws him back a few paces with a full tackle. He’s got his arm around his shoulders as he brings the son back up the road, past the gaping neighbors, past the shocked servants and into the cool of the house, away from the hot sun. Here he offers the young man a drink and then starts giving orders for a party, stat.

Jesus’ hearers were confused. This story is now well off the beaten path. There’s nothing here that makes any sense. A party? For this embarrassment of a son whom the father should have spat on and refused even to take as a servant? This son who disrespected his father so and who fed pigs (pigs!) had the nerve to come back?

And then here comes the older brother. The brother who has upheld the family name, who is enduring the embarrassment of his brother’s behavior and the public commentary on his father’s mourning actions. This brother has been out in the fields, hears a party getting started, sees the neighbors coming with covered dishes and asks a servant, “Hey, what gives?” The servant catches him up and the brother blows his stack. He makes such a scene and throws what my grandmother would have called a hissy fit. He refuses to enter the house.

So his father goes out to him. In the ancient world, hospitality was everything. How you treated guests in your home reflected your status and your social understanding. You would give guests food you had been saving, the good bowl or cup, the freshest straw. Hospitality was the cornerstone of society. To leave guests during a party one was hosting for any reason was very embarrassing and wildly inappropriate. But the father goes out, goes out to get his older son, who is devastated by anger.

And the father is shocked not by the son’s behavior, but because this son hasn’t realized that the same extravagance could have been his all along. Jesus’ listeners and Luke’s readers would have reached the end of this story and been appalled and overwhelmed. Was Jesus really saying that the kingdom of heaven would be like this? That pig feeders would be welcomed? That people should embarrass themselves in this way?

What was Jesus saying? And what does it mean for us? I’m sure you’ve heard the interpretation that some of us are prodigals and some of us are older brothers and that God, our Father, longs to welcome us all home. And this is true.

However, at some point, we will be each person in this story. At some point, you will be the prodigal. Maybe you won’t be considering pig slop, maybe you will just have gone far enough that the return trip to ask for forgiveness, to accept a reduced status, is humiliating to contemplate. It can happen when your spiritual life isn’t what it should be, when you’re estranged from a friend or family member, when you’ve wandered and squandered for whatever reason… we will all be the younger brother.

And at some point, we will all be the older brother. We’ll judge the people who don’t come to church as often, who don’t raise their kids the way we would raise ours, or who act in ways that are embarrassing to behold. We’ll be mad at who gets the same treatment as us, at who gets better treatment, at who gets the recognition we deserve, at who gets the party we didn’t ask for, but wanted someone to read our minds that we wanted. We will all be the older brother.

And at some point, we will all look down the road, hoping to see that figure coming back to us. We will have spent of ourselves extravagantly in a relationship, with a parent, friend, colleague, child, sister or brother, and they will have taken what we shared with them and left. We’ll try to move on. We’ll put on a brave face. We’ll stop talking about it when people want to stop hearing about it, but each day, we’ll look at our mailbox, our inbox, our answering machine, for a message in a bottle, a smoke signal or a distant approaching figure, thinking, “Maybe today is the day that they come back.” At some point, we will all be the father.

And in each of those times, at each of those places, our Creator is with us, calling us to the only true home we have. Down and out, dutifully working, regretful and mourning, Jesus remains with us. As John tells us, “Through him, we have received grace upon grace.” And it’s because of the grace we receive from God, that we are able to extend any kind of grace and love to one another.

How do we know love except that God first loved us? We can’t let the story of the prodigal become passé because it points to a kind of love that’s costly, embarrassing and everlasting. It’s a love that so rejoices in homecoming, a love that abounds in forgiveness, a love that throws aside social protocol to embrace an outcast, to embrace anger, to enfold hurt. It’s a love that is about the resurrection of relationships.

In the midst of what the world, ancient and modern, believes is powerful- money, physical might, death. The story of the forgiving father, the prodigal son, the self-righteous brother, is an embarrassing story. The story reveals a God who is willing to enter the world, take on human form, be down and dirty with all kinds of people, eat with sinners, touch lepers, talk to women, to overturn traditions. And the way the world responded to this God in Jesus was to say, “I want you dead.” But the way God responded, the way God responds, is to say, “But I want you to live.”

The story doesn’t go on to talk about when the father sat down and had a reckoning with either of his sons. Jesus didn’t offer an epilogue or a postscript. It’s just love. It’s a God who’s willing to go all out, no holds barred, if you don’t get it this time, I’ll give you one more chance, again and again. It’s a little embarrassing, this boundless love. There should be some people who just don’t receive it.

But it’s amazing love, amazing grace. Amazing grace for parents, for children, for sinners, for saints, for those who come to work early in the morning and those who join in but an hour before the end of the day. We think we know how the story of the prodigal works, but we don’t. Because, in reality, we’re surprised by grace… every time.

Thanks be to God. Amen.

Joseph the Faithful

Leave a reply

Today (March 19) is the feast day (saint celebration) of Joseph. Depending on your view of Joseph, he is called the husband of the Virgin Mary, the earthly father of Jesus or the guardian of Jesus. For many Christians, Protestant and Catholic, Mary is the first Christian, the first to believe in Christ. She served as Theotokos, the “God-bearer”.

However, there is good reason to include Joseph, if not as the first believer, as the second. After all, he wasn’t pregnant. In the gospel according to Matthew, Joseph learned about the circumstances Mary’s pregnancy in a dream. Despite his misgivings and probable fears (do you want to be with the woman who is carrying the Son of God?), Joseph stood by his woman, helped her give birth in a stable, and raised Jesus with love and discipline. (Joseph, like Mary, was worried when they thought they lost Jesus during the post-Temple return trip in Jesus’ 12th year.)
We don’t hear much about Joseph once Jesus starts his formal ministry and it’s not unreasonable to figure that he might have been dead, especially if he had been older than Mary at all. People probably whispered about him (and her) for the rest of their life together. Yet Joseph, for what we know, remained true to Mary and true to Jesus. We do well to consider his faithfulness and willingness to be God’s servant as well.
Joseph is considered the patron saint of carpenters, against doubt, dying, engineers, families, fathers, happy death, against hesitation, married couples, social justice, social workers, working men and the Church Universal.

Come, My Way, My Truth, My Life

Leave a reply

Lately, our little church has been singing “Come, My Way, My Truth, My Life” twice a week. It’s serving as our Lenten hymn of praise on Sunday mornings and it’s featured in the liturgy we’re using on Wednesday nights. You might not be familiar with the words of George Herbert’s poem, which is quite beautiful.

Come, my Way, my Truth, my Life:
Such a Way, as gives us breath:
Such a Truth, as ends all strife:
Such a Life, as killeth death.

Come, My Light, my Feast, my Strength:
Such a Light, as shows a feast:
Such a Feast, as mends in length:
Such a Strength, as makes his guest.

Come, my Joy, my Love, my Heart:
Such a Joy, as none can move:
Such a Love, as none can part:
Such a Heart, as joys in love.

We sing this to an arrangement by Ralph Vaughn Williams. (Ralph’s friends pronounce his name “Ray-fe”.)

I’m a big fan of thinking about the words we sing and this song/poem has some interesting and complicated phrases. Of course, in my interpretation, I might be terrible injustice to what Herbert meant, but I’m going with my best faithful guess and understanding.
Come, My Way, My Truth, My Life- This serves as an invitation to Christ, from the poet (or singer). We’re inviting the Way, the Truth, and the Life (John 14:6) to be the only shaper of our existence. It’s important to remember that when we issue such an invitation, we’re doing so through the help of the Holy Spirit and we’re not inviting Jesus to come to a place he’s never been. We’re coming around to the recognition of our need for the creative, redeeming, and merciful God (Father, Son and Holy Spirit) and to the understanding that God has been with us all along. We’re just getting with the program. (And we’ll need daily (hourly! secondly!) reminders of our role in this relationship.
Such a Way as gives us breath- Without God, we have nothing. The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away (blessed be the name of the Lord). Even breath. Without our breath, we are but dust.
Such a Truth, as ends all strife– Well, any time I hear about a peaceful Jesus, I think of him saying, “I come not to bring peace, but a sword.” (Matthew 10:34) At the heart of God, we find the Son, a gift to the world, so that we might know the love and the true expectations of the Father. The truth of the empty tomb ends our struggle with trying to make ourselves right with God.
Such a Life, as killeth death– I have no idea how eternal life works, I only know that I want it. And I believe that I can only have it through Jesus Christ. His life, resurrected life, brings the possibility of eternal life to all who believe. O death, where is your sting now?
Come, My Light, my Feast, my Strength– God’s Word is a lamp unto our feet and a light unto our path. (Psalm 119, John 1) When we eat together in remembrance of Jesus Christ, the Spirit spreads before us enough nourishment to go forth and do what God calls us to do. We can do all things through Christ, who gives us strength. (Philippians 4:13)
Such a Light, as shows a feast– Christ is our light, shining not only the way, but the abundant life that God desires for us to have. Does abundant life meant that we will always have everything we will need? In the light of biblical understanding, actually, it does. Because the community, the body of Christ, will lift one another up, sharing food, faith and fellowship until the time when the Lord comes again. Of course, outside of the church, society can warp the idea of sharing, but we who believe in the Light are called to live into the feast that is revealed to us, for us and for the whole creation.
Such a Feast, as mends in length– (The first of what I think are the two most confusing lines.) Christ, the feast of welcome, is everlasting. The life of Jesus, though confined to a time and place, is the mostly clearly understandable (!) part of the life of the whole Trinity, eternal and ineffable. When I hear “mends in length”, I think eternal. That just when you think you’ve reached the end of the table, the end of row, the end of the line, the end of time- it keeps going. It’s a mind-boggling concept, but it’s a length that stretches into forever. A creative, forgiving, shaping, compelling eternal feast of love is our God, Father, Son and Holy Spirit.
Such a Strength, as makes his guest– (The second of the confusing lines) I’m never really sure what this says about Christ, God or my relationship with the Three-in-One. With Christ as Strength, it’s more than “all things are possible”. There’s an granting of eternal grounding and a place of belonging. Perhaps this is illustrated in John 8:35 (paraphrase mine), “Now a slave does not have a permanent place in the household, but the Son abides there forever.” Through Christ, we are guests in the house of God. Guests, in the sense of not originally members of the household. Yet unlike a slave, we are made children of the household, through the Son, and so we too can remain their forever. This is the strength of the bond between Father and Son, that whoever is welcomed by one is welcomed by all.
Come, My Joy, My Love, My Heart- Here is the invitation for that which can offer true joy, deep, abiding love, a place on which to hang our hopes and dreams.
Such a Joy, as none can move– Who shall separate us from the love of Christ (Romans 8:35)? Short answer: No one and no thing. What could give greater joy and consolation?
Such a Love, as none can part- See line above. Ditto.
Such a Heart, as joys in love– Since Christ is not dead, but is living and living among us and in us, joy can still be his. How much joy is there in Christ and in heaven when love is shown and shared among those who believe and to the world for the sake of the cross? This is the love of Christ compelling us, so that our joy may be full as well. (2 Cor. 5:14, John 15:11)

Friday Five: Winter Olympics Edition

2 Replies

Friday Five suggestions come from here.


Songbird writes: It’s been two weeks of snow, or not enough snow, of heartbreak before the action even began, of snowboards and skis and skates, of joy and sorrow. At our house, we’ve stayed up too late, and we don’t even watch sports any other time!



1) Which of the Winter Olympic sports is your favorite to watch?


Well, deep, dark confession time, I don’t have television. I haven’t since 2004, so I haven’t actually seen any Olympics in real time since 2002, I think. Those were in Salt Lake according to Google. I haven’t seen any of this year’s Olympic Games, not even the opening ceremony. I thought they might be available on Hulu, but, alas, they were not. I have, in the past, enjoyed watching speed skating. And I would enjoy watching the biathlon.

2) Some of the uniforms have attracted attention this year, such as the US Snowboarders‘ pseudo-flannel shirts and the Norwegian Curling team’s — ahem — pants.

Who do you think had the best-looking uniforms?

Having not watched, I’m not sure. But I dig those pants.


3) And Curling. Really? What’s up with that?

I have friends who have curled and some who still do. They love it. And why not. According to my husband, it’s more athletic than ice dancing. (Dearest Husband believes in a reduced Olympic program, summer and winter, but that’s a different post.) I think curling is fun to watch and I’m always impressed by team sports that 1) involve ice sweeping, 2) the word “spiel” and 3) fun pants and shoes. Curling it is!

4) Define Nordic Combined. Don’t look it up. Take a guess if you must.

Nordic Combined is when, in a Lutheran congregation, you have 3 vocal Norwegians who wish to celebrate Norway’s Constitution Day and 10 semi- vocal Swedes who do not. Then you have some German-heritage Lutherans who don’t care and one pastor of Polish origin who doesn’t have a dog in the Scandinavian fight, but enjoys eating Danish. So you have a Hymn Sing and compete, antiphonally, with “Now Thank We All Our God” and “A Mighty Fortress.” Then you eat lefse, lutefisk, Swedish meatballs and, of course, Danish. The winner of the Nordic Combined (loudest singing + most eating + most liturgically correct Jello salad) gets a Garrison Keillor novel.

5) If you could be a Winter Olympics Champion just by wishing for it, which sport would you choose for winning your Gold Medal?


Cross-country skiing.

Ash Wednesday

Leave a reply

Joel 2:1-2, 12-17; Psalm 51:1-17; 2 Corinthians 5:20b-6:10; Matthew 6:1-6, 16-21

Many of us grew up with Lenten seasons that were dark and gloomy. Lent was forty days of sadness, intensified guilt, forced sacrifice and a scraping sense of unworthiness. Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpea. My fault, my fault, my most grievous fault. In the season before Easter, it was as if we had never heard of Christ, had no idea that a Messiah had come or, even more crucially, that he had been raised from the dead for the life of the world.

The Lenten season isn’t supposed to be a time to grovel before God and beg for mercy. It is a time to take up the specific practices of giving, prayer, abstinence. We’re to give of the gifts God has given us. We’re driven to pray for ourselves, for those around us, for God’s whole world. We’re attempting to abstain from the things and behaviors that cause us to feel distant from God, be they physical, spiritual or emotional.

These are what we are called to do all year, but sometimes our very humanness gets in the way of our very best of intentions. We mean to start exercising. We’re going to start giving more to charity with our next check. We’re going to write letters, stop complaining, cut down on sugar, pray more, read the Bible, be more grateful… We always have little self-improvement goals, when what we really need is spiritual improvement.

Spiritual improvement begins when we set aside the past, when we acknowledge that we have failed, we rub ashes onto our face, we grapple with our human nature, we ask God to renew us and then we set our faces toward Easter, knowing that our salvation has been achieved and our freedom is in the cross. We walk toward Golgotha, the Place of the Skull, believing that it is not the end of the story. In fact, for those who believe, the journey only begins at the cross.

Lent is the time to reflect on what is in our lives that keeps us from rejoicing in that story. We consider what is in our hearts and lives that keeps us from truly rejoicing in our salvation. It is a time to recognize that we cannot change the past, but we can turn from our sin, even if we know it still affects us, and we can step more confidently on the path that God has stretched before us.

Here’s a very personal example. Due to my husband’s deployment to Iraq, he missed the first four months of our son’s life. No one was happy about this. We can’t change it. There is no way that we can replay the firsts that he missed. He can’t catch up with me on numbers of diapers changed or hours of sleep missed due to breastfeeding. And those four months were important. We can’t pretend they didn’t happen. We can’t undo them. We can’t go back. Nothing will rectify the imbalance.

So we have to forgive. Even though we aren’t upset with one another, we have to forgive the circumstances. We have to let go of what we wish could have been. We have to release our well-intentioned efforts to overcompensate for that time. We are here now and going forward is all we can do.

This is the point of Ash Wednesday leading into the season of Lent. We have to let go of the relationships that didn’t work. We must release the sins for which we have not forgiven ourselves. We say aloud the words we wish we’d said in the past and we let the air float away from us. We make reparations for wrongs we know about.

Most psychologists and doctors say it takes about 30 days to cement a new habit into your life, whatever that daily habit is. Here we have forty days. Forty days to practice giving. Forty days to pray. Forty days to abstain. Forty days, not for show, but to quietly work on opening your heart and mouth, proclaiming your praise to the Lord and rejoicing in your salvation.

We can’t go back, but we can go forward. On the one hand, Ash Wednesday reminds us that as we move forward, we move toward death. Dust we are and dust we will become. On the other hand, Lent reminds us that just beyond that death is life, the life that came through and in Jesus the Christ. These forty days help us to prepare for that life. Even as we ask God for forgiveness and strength to live into our repentance, we begin to see the life that God desires for us, that God has planned for us.

We can’t undo our sins. We can’t go back. Nothing will rectify the imbalance. Nothing, that is, but the grace and mercy of God who is slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love. And we hear the call, through the cross, “It is finished. Come home.” As we repent, as we turn, as we take on new habits and change our spiritual outlook, we walk together and we peer down the road, to where the light everlasting shines for all, where the sign over the empty cross says, “You can come home again.” Amen

Work It (Essential Passages #10)

1 Reply

Many moons and what feels like a lifetime ago, I started a series of reflections on what I consider to be the 50 most essential Bible passages. (You can read the first one here and look for others in the blog archive.) That seemed like it wouldn’t be that difficult. In fact, when I began I thought I would fill out the 50 long before I ran out of passages, but that hasn’t been the case. Each time I think of the project, I become overwhelmed with the passages I think are important, some I like and some I don’t. Then I just don’t write because I want my end result to be perfect.


Nevertheless, I think this is an important project for me and I need to get back onto the horse and ride boldly into the terrain of commenting on my own canon. We all have books and passages we prefer to others. We owe it to ourselves to yield to the prodding of the Holy Spirit to examine those selections that we treasure, those we loathe and those we fear. Having said this, I’m going to tread into the historically un-Lutheran-friendly waters of James for today’s entry.

“What good is it, my brothers and sisters, if you say you have faith but do not have works? Can faith save you? If a brother or sister is naked and lacks daily food, and one of you says to them, ‘Go in peace; keep warm and eat your fill’, and yet you do not supply their bodily needs, what is the good of that? So faith by itself, if it has no works, is dead.

But someone will say, ‘You have faith and I have works.’ Show me your faith without works, and I by my works will show you my faith. You believe that God is one; you do well. Even the demons believe—and shudder. Do you want to be shown, you senseless person, that faith without works is barren? Was not our ancestor Abraham justified by works when he offered his son Isaac on the altar? You see that faith was active along with his works, and faith was brought to completion by the works. Thus the scripture was fulfilled that says, ‘Abraham believed God, and it was reckoned to him as righteousness’, and he was called the friend of God. You see that a person is justified by works and not by faith alone. Likewise, was not Rahab the prostitute also justified by works when she welcomed the messengers and sent them out by another road? For just as the body without the spirit is dead, so faith without works is also dead.” James 2: 14-26


Martin Luther famously referred to James as a “book of straw” (useful for burning). It wasn’t because Luther thought the book was totally rubbish, but because he saw the danger of its misuse by church officials to undermine the doctrine of salvation by grace through faith that he believed to be of the utmost importance. There has been much ink spilled on this controversy, but the major passage in question is worth at least one more examination. (What Biblical passage isn’t?)

Many contemporary Christians have carefully absorbed the lesson of being saved by grace and, so comforted, are eager to let their expressions of faith be limited to worship and, perhaps, some social justice efforts. However, this passage is as critical to the life of a Christian as is the passage from Romans that it seems to answer. (See Romans 3: 20-28, Ephesians 2:8-9) If we are saved by grace through the faithfulness of Christ, then what are we to do?

After careful sermon after sermon that underscores (and underscores and underscores), the salvation of all mankind that came through the resurrection of Christ, we may finally come to understand (and, yea verily, to believe) that we cannot save ourselves. It doesn’t mean that we don’t still wrestle with this or become frustrated at our lack of control. Yet, at some point, we are consoled by the knowledge that salvation is beyond us. God has chosen us, we did not choose God. The faith we have is a gift, a work of the Holy Spirit.

If we have this gift then, what’s the big deal? We’ve got it. We believe. We have faith in Christ’s salvific work and believe we have been justified (made right) with our Maker. So what’s with works? We know works-righteousness is bad, “w-r” being the idea that you can earn your salvation. That being said, it does not mean that works are bad.

Faith without works is meaningless, says this passage from James. Let’s step back for a minute. Don’t think about your works and faith- think about the Son. The Father, Son and Holy Spirit form one holy trinity with 3 separate persons. As they watched creation devolve from God- centeredness, God the Three-in-One decided the time had come to bring people back around from sacrifices and scrabbling fearful faith. The Word came among us. A Son was born to us. Jesus walked on earth, full of grace and truth, as that of a Father’s only son. Jesus pointed to the life that God desires for his creation, for God’s concern for all, about the coming judgment and how to be a sheep and not a goat (i.e., how to actually be a follower of Jesus and not just a hanger-on).

Jesus was crucified for his radical notions and his upset of the political and religious apple cart of his day. His adherence to God’s word led to Golgotha. However, that was not the final word- the resurrection is. God’s final statement in Jesus was to say that the powers of earth, including death, do not, cannot and will not win. Because we believe in the two complete natures of Christ (fully human and fully divine), we can see faithfulness unto death in the plan of God. We can see that faithfulness because of Jesus’ works.

Jesus did not just say, “I proclaim to you the year of the Lord’s favor.” He didn’t just announce the greatest commandment and the one like unto it. Jesus fed people, healed people, cast out demons, wept for Jerusalem, threw a few tables, snapped at a couple disciples, raised the dead, cursed fig trees, hung out with soldiers, tax collectors and prostitutes, predicted bad times, took naps, walked on water, preached, taught, played with children, danced at weddings and hung out at least one well. As the fully divine living Word, he could have remained above the world, faithfully bringing some people to God in other ways. But his faithfulness compelled him from the Father (as fully divine, he can’t just passively be sent) and into creation to bring the good news. (Remember, it’s gospel even before the resurrection part of the story.) His works in the world point to his faithfulness. As fully human, they point to his faithfulness to the Father even unto death.

It is by Jesus’ works that we understand his faithfulness (and the love of God for creation). We could not have faith without them. We would not be saved by grace through Christ’s faithfulness without his work in the world.

I’m not advocating a simple “What would Jesus do?” as a response to salvation. You must consider “What would Jesus have me do?” (Because you can always rationalize that you aren’t the Son of God and his actions might not apply to your situation. But his commands always will.)

What the writer of James is pointing out is that there can be no resting on the laurels of faith. Standing on the promises, you might be covered by Christ’s righteousness and, therefore, be made right with God, but that’s not the end of the story. Christ’s work in you bears fruit. If you believe that you have been saved, why wouldn’t you take that message out with you? How could you keeping from singing? Why wouldn’t you shout it from the mountain tops? Why wouldn’t you feed people, heal people, hang out with tax collectors, soldiers and prostitutes, dance at weddings, drink wine, see who’s at the well, overturn conventions, play with children, make a little ruckus, pass out water, cast out demons and weep for the judgment to come- all in the name of the grace you have received through Jesus the Christ.

Eugene Peterson has this paraphrase of James 2:26: “The very moment you separate body and spirit, you end up with a corpse. Separate faith and works and you get the same thing: a corpse.” Faith without works is lifeless. There’s nothing to flesh it out. This is the reason we know that God loves bodies- because without them- nothing gets done. There’s no sitting with the sick without a gluteus maximus. There’s no preaching without a mouth and ears (or something for typing!). There’s no feeding without hands and feet. There’s no hoping without a body that absorbs a new day and its possibilities.

Faith is faith. Jesus saves. We who believe have been gifted in the knowledge of his faithfulness. We’re called, through the Spirit, to respond to it. To bring other people to a place and time where they can see that same faithfulness. It’s not just about preaching- it’s about body evangelism. It’s about making sandwiches, counting toilet paper squares, buying socks, anointing with oil, washing feet and building houses.

Faithful living requires living. Living is about work.

We think of baptism as a second birth, by water and the Holy Spirit.

My son was born 9 days after his due date. We joked that he didn’t want to be born because coming out means work: breathing for yourself, eating, etc. Being born does require work. You don’t do the birthing yourself, but afterwards- everything you do is a response to that one event.

Same thing with being born again.

Cliff Dwellers (Epiphany 4)

Leave a reply

Jeremiah 1:4-10; Psalm 71:1-6; 1 Corinthians 13:1-13; Luke 4:21-30

There’s nothing better than a warm fuzzy- that nice feeling you get when something good happens or you see something cute or you hear of a heart-warming story. A warm fuzzy brightens your day, can make you a little more patient, might make you feel inclined to pass on the joy.

What could be warmer and fuzzier than a young boy receiving a call from God, knowing the voice of God is speaking to him, knowing his purpose in life? What could be more heart-warming that a lengthy passage about love and its hallmarks of patience, endurance and truth? And what could be more inspiring than the tale of a local boy made good- returning to his hometown to share good news with them?

What? You didn’t get all toe-tingly thrilled with the readings today? Why ever not? Could it be that being called to pluck up and pull down, to destroy and to overthrow, to build and to plant, to do it all with just words- could it be that isn’t quite an invitation to which you would want to RSVP?

Could it be that having to love someone whose gifts I don’t understand or whose habits I don’t like isn’t very exciting or compelling? And, yea verily, having to testify to the truth might get me swept up in the crowd that’s going to hoist me onto their shoulders only to fling me off a cliff? Where’d my warm fuzzy feeling go?

The crowd in the synagogue with Jesus is feeling good when he first speaks and when he interprets Scripture. “Ah, yes. Joseph’s boy. Doesn’t he read well? Aren’t his words fine? What a nice job of interpretation. He looks so good. Maybe he’ll settle down with your daughter. Oh, wait. He’s still talking.”

Doubtless, Jesus’ relatives and friends have heard of the miracles he’s performed in other places. They’ve heard of his teaching, but more about his healings and casting out of demons. And they know, they just know, that he’s come to make them a new healing center, to make their synagogue the best and brightest, to tell them that they are the Lord’s favorites. After all, didn’t he just proclaim the “year of the Lord’s favor”?

But then Jesus talks to them about the prophet Elijah, who was only able to help a woman outside of Israel during a time of great famine and struggle. And then he mentions Naaman the Syrian army commander who, at the urging of the prophet and Naaman’s own slave girl, dipped himself in the Jordan seven times and was cured of leprosy.

Why did this make people so angry to hear? Because it doesn’t fit with their understanding of how God is going to act. Because, by golly, they know that they are deserving and God’s grace is limited to them. Because these two stories are a little bit of a pinch from Jesus, reminding them those words from Isaiah, the ones about freeing the captives, sight to the blind and the day of the Lord, those words are no longer only for Israel, but for all people who will hear of Jesus Christ. It’s not that the words aren’t for Israel, but they are not only for Israel.

For Jesus’ hearers, this is blasphemy. How can he say this to them? Haven’t they been the most faithful, the most devoted, to God? Haven’t they earned the grace? How can it be going to Gentiles? Pigs?

The same annoyance was probably among the Corinthians, which inspired this section of Paul’s letter- going back into chapter 12. The Corinthian believers are certain they know that there is a hierarchy among believers, that some of them have gifts that are better than others, that some of them are more holy than others. Paul has to stop the inner struggle by pointing them to a better way.

And then he goes on to describe love. It’s not a love that overlooks wrongs that hurt people. It’s not a love that is simpering or warm and fuzzy. It’s a deep kind of charity that overlooks differences and brings the community together so that they can actually do the work that they want to do and that they are called to do.

Even more importantly, it reminds the Corinthians of the kind of love that God has for them- the kind of love to which they are called to respond. The kind of love the church has for one another and the kind of work the body of Christ does is a placeholder, is temporary, for the work and the love of God that will win the day. Now we know only in part, now we see in a mirror dimly, but we shall see face to face, we will know fully, even as we have been fully known.

Fully known. We miss that part when we read this passage at weddings. And yet that might be the key part for a couple starting life together. Once you’re married, then you do become more fully known. And it’s not always pretty. Then the work of love begins. As you become more fully known, patience is needed, kindness is needed, hopefulness is needed. We need those things in a marriage. We need these in our community. But they’re not warm fuzzies that just appear. They take work. And truth-telling. And being able to handle the truth.

In all of this, we are fully known. The God who created us, who gives us power through the Spirit, has graciously included us into his body. But just as we’re beginning to feel warm and fuzzy about God’s love, God pushes us out says, “Now you know who needs it… the people of Spenard. People in Haiti. People in Turnagain. People in Bethel. People in jail. People who are hungry. Prostitutes. Gay people. Young people. Old people. Prodigal sons. Elder sons. Non-Christians. I love them too and they need to hear about it. To hear about what I’ve done. To hear about what I’m going to do.”

To be fully known is dangerous it means that God knows exactly what we’re capable of for the kingdom. And God expects it of us. Even knowing we’ll fall short, God gathers us in and sends us out. The crowds may gather. There may be murmurs of cliffs. But Jesus moved through them and on his way. The Word goes on.

And it goes on in and for and through us. We’re each called to speak up and to point to God’s work in the world. To speak to God’s truth. To realize that the message of judgment and grace isn’t just for us.

“For you shall go to all to whom I send you, and you shall speak whatever I command you. Do not be afraid of them, for I am with you to deliver you, says the Lord.”

It’s not warm and fuzzy.

It’s truth AND dare.

Amen.

You can’t always believe what you want

1 Reply

In light of my last two posts here and here, I thought it was a good time to discuss God’s judgment. This is a difficult topic for many people. In many ways, the belief and hope of a loving and forgiving God has undercut the Biblical message of judgment. This brings up a few questions. Can there be mercy without judgment? Does judgment stem from anger? Are love and judgment mutually exclusive? Is God still planning to judge the world or did God’s judgment occur in the sending of the Son and then in the cross and resurrection?


In order to talk about God’s judgment, I’d like to broach a different, but related topic: universal salvation. Universal salvation is the idea or belief that God will ultimately save everyone. With this understanding, whatever happens at the end of time will ultimately result in all people being in the presence of God. The belief in universal salvation, then, eliminates the need for Hell, as a place opposite of Heaven.

Some verses that people believe point to universal salvation are:

John 12:30-33

Jesus answered, ‘This voice has come for your sake, not for mine. Now is the judgment of this world; now the ruler of this world will be driven out. And I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all people to myself.’ He said this to indicate the kind of death he was to die.

Romans 5:18-21

Therefore just as one man’s trespass led to condemnation for all, so one man’s act of righteousness leads to justification and life for all. For just as by the one man’s disobedience the many were made sinners, so by the one man’s obedience the many will be made righteous. But law came in, with the result that the trespass multiplied; but where sin increased, grace abounded all the more, so that, just as sin exercised dominion in death, so grace might also exercise dominion through justification leading to eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord.

1 John 2:1-2

My little children, I am writing these things to you so that you may not sin. But if anyone does sin, we have an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous; and he is the atoning sacrifice for our sins, and not for ours only but also for the sins of the whole world.

John 15:12-17

“This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you. No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends. You are my friends if you do what I command you. I do not call you servants any longer, because the servant does not know what the master is doing; but I have called you friends, because I have made known to you everything that I have heard from my Father. You did not choose me but I chose you. And I appointed you to go and bear fruit, fruit that will last, so that the Father will give you whatever you ask him in my name. I am giving you these commands so that you may love one another.”

Luke 19:9-10

Then Jesus said to [Zaccheus], ‘Today salvation has come to this house, because he too is a son of Abraham. For the Son of Man came to seek out and to save the lost.’

Now in most cases, proof-texters (on all sides of an issue) use just one verse to prove their point. I don’t like that kind of argumentation because I don’t believe God intends for the Bible to be used that way- in its original context (as parts) or in its present context (as a whole). Therefore, I try to include surrounding verses, regardless of my viewpoint on the subject.

Many people look at these verses and says, “Jesus intends to bring everyone together. God is ultimately gracious and will forgive everyone. Jesus’ death saves the world. Because God acts first and we can’t earn grace, then it comes to everyone.”

1) Jesus intends to bring everyone together. That’s great. And I firmly believe Jesus can do it. However, there are some passages that indicate that some people are going to resist that to the end. (or End)

2) God is ultimately gracious and will forgive everyone. Also great. Also true. BUT forgiveness does not necessarily preclude punishment. Some would say that a life apart from God and the trials of this world are hell enough. Sounds good. But the Bible also points to eternal consequences. Since we know that this life ends and believe that there is a life afterwards- then the eternal situation must be as important to us as the temporal. (Even so, it is very important to remember that physical needs are NOT less important than spiritual ones.)

3) Jesus’ death saves the world. Jesus’ death is the result upsetting the political and religious apple cart. Jesus’ resurrection is purely God’s work that shows that death is not the end. It also shows that death is not the judgment, but the latter is something that will follow the former.

4) Because God acts first, and we can’t earn grace, then it comes to everyone. It is most certainly true that God acts first. This is the first marker against “decision theology” (as in, “I have decided to follow Christ.). The implication is that God is waiting on you and that God’s hands are tied until you make the right decision, say the right words, pray the right prayer, perform the right rite. God has already been acting since the beginning of time. Carl Sagan said, “If you want to make a cake from scratch, you have to start by creating the universe.” No one can do that. No matter how you come to know Jesus, it’s only possible because of all the work God has done before. Your questions were answered before you could think to ask. However, though grace is pre-existent, it does not eliminate our need for it. As Paul says, “We do not sin so that grace may abound.” (Romans 6:1) Through Christ, we have all received “grace upon grace”. (John 1:16) God’s grace is for everyone, but that doesn’t mean that everyone responds to it.

Luke 10:16-20

[ Jesus says to the seventy:] ‘Whoever listens to you listens to me, and whoever rejects you rejects me, and whoever rejects me rejects the one who sent me.’ The seventy returned with joy, saying, ‘Lord, in your name even the demons submit to us!’ He said to them, ‘I watched Satan fall from heaven like a flash of lightning. See, I have given you authority to tread on snakes and scorpions, and over all the power of the enemy; and nothing will hurt you. Nevertheless, do not rejoice at this, that the spirits submit to you, but rejoice that your names are written in heaven.’

Matthew 25:31-46

“When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, then he will sit on the throne of his glory. All the nations will be gathered before him, and he will separate people one from another as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats . . . And these will go away into eternal punishment, but the righteous into eternal life.”

Revelation 9:3-6

Then from the smoke came locusts on the earth, and they were given authority like the authority of the scorpions of the earth. They were told not to damage the grass of the earth or any green growth or any tree, but only those people who do not have the seal of God on their foreheads. They were allowed to torture them for five month, but not to kill them… And in those days, people will seek death, but will not find it; they will long to die, but death will flee from them.

Luke 16:22-31

[Jesus spoke to them about the beggar, Lazarus, and the rich man:] The poor man died and was carried away by the angels to be with Abraham. The rich man also died and was buried. In Hades, where he was being tormented, he looked up and saw Abraham far away with Lazarus by his side. He called out, “Father Abraham, have mercy on me, and send Lazarus to dip the tip of his finger in water and cool my tongue; for I am in agony in these flames.” But Abraham said, “Child, remember that during your lifetime you received your good things, and Lazarus in like manner evil things; but now he is comforted here, and you are in agony. Besides all this, between you and us a great chasm has been fixed, so that those who might want to pass from here to you cannot do so, and no one can cross from there to us.” He said, “Then, father, I beg you to send him to my father’s house— for I have five brothers—that he may warn them, so that they will not also come into this place of torment.” Abraham replied, “They have Moses and the prophets; they should listen to them.” He said, “No, father Abraham; but if someone goes to them from the dead, they will repent.” He said to him, “If they do not listen to Moses and the prophets, neither will they be convinced even if someone rises from the dead.” ’

Now, arguably, the gospel according to Luke is heavily concerned with equality and the radical nature of Jesus and the latter story is a parable within that context, however, I think you can see the point that judgment is not limited to Revelation and is spoken of by Jesus- not just John the Baptist. Is Jesus being intentionally inflammatory to provoke those who will not respond to the call of love to bring them into a relationship with God? Possibly. No matter what we think about judgment, we cannot ignore the words of Jesus to Thomas, according to John 14:6, “I am the way, the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father, except through me.”

Inevitably, the Bible brings us to the conclusion that there will be some kind of judgment at some point- marking the beginning of eternal life. When we look at the Bible as a whole, we cannot definitely come to the conclusion that all will be saved. We also can yield (slightly) on the possibility that all will.

Here’s the thing, though. Within the Apostles Creed, we affirm that we believe Jesus will come to judge the living and the dead. We cannot ignore the fact that there will be (and has been) judgment. Through the Spirit and the Bible, we come to believe that those who do not come to God through Jesus will not come out favorably.

We do stand firmly on judgment as the privilege of God. And that judgment stems from God’s love for the whole creation and God’s desire for us, as created beings, to come into right relationship with our Creator.

(“Bring it on home, Pastor!”)

For those of us who are Christian, Christ is the solid rock on which we stand. All other ground is sinking sand. This means that we have to wrestle with, pray about, engage in and believe what is said in the Bible. We have to come to a place of tension with Scripture and accept that the tension will not be resolved in this life.

The most dangerous part of the idea of universal salvation is that it lets Christians off the hook. Jesus clearly calls us to ministry in the world- from sharing water in a cup to baptizing in the name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit. And Jesus says this work matters. In fact, it has eternal implications.

If we believe God will save everyone, then we can be content to allow our lives to devolve into faithful social ministry. If we believe that we are called to somehow, someway bring Jesus to the world, then we have a mission (yea verily, a great Commission) that we cannot ignore, that we ignore to our peril, that we ignore to the peril of the world.

When we ask for God to “return to us the joy of our salvation” (Psalm 51), we also ask for a “right and willing spirit”. The joy of salvation isn’t just the joyous knowledge of being right with God, it’s also a wellspring that can’t help but overflow in all you do.

Amazing grace, how sweet the sound

That saved a wretch like me.

I once was lost, but now I’m found.

Was blind, but now I see.

When we’ve been there ten thousand years,

Bright shining as the sun,

We’ve no less days to sing God’s praise

Than when we first begun.


But between here and there, there’s a judgment. And we can’t get around it. We can’t get over it. We can’t pass through it (on our own).

I want to believe that God will save everyone. And God certainly can. But from where I stand, I can’t see that God will.

So I better get to work. Because the Holy Spirit is already sowing seeds and is at work. There are people who need Jesus. And where will He meet them?

In us.


Judgy Wudgy was a bear

Leave a reply

Strive first for the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. So do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will bring worries of its own. Today’s trouble is enough for today. Do not judge, so that you may not be judged. For with the judgement you make you will be judged, and the measure you give will be the measure you get. Why do you see the speck in your neighbor’s eye, but do not notice the log in your own eye? Or how can you say to your neighbor, “Let me take the speck out of your eye, while the log is in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the log out of your own eye, then you will see clearly to take the speck out of your neighbor’s eye. [Jesus said, during the Sermon on the Mount], Matthew 6:33- 7:5

Jesus said to his disciples, “Occasions for stumbling are bound to come, but woe to anyone by whom they come! It would be better for you if a millstone were hung around your neck and you were thrown into the sea than for you to cause one of these little ones to stumble. Be on your guard! If another disciple sins, you must rebuke the offender, and if there is repentance, you must forgive. And if the same person sins against you seven times a day, and turns back to you seven times and says, ‘I repent’, you must forgive.” Luke 17:1-4

Do not speak evil against one another, brothers and sisters. Whoever speaks evil against another or judges another, speaks evil against the law and judges the law, but if you judge the law, you are not a doer of the law but a judge. There is one lawgiver and judge who is able to save and to destroy. So who, then, are you to judge your neighbor? James 4:11-2

On the heels of my last post, I felt the need to comment a little bit more about judgment in the Christian life. (Which is different than judgment in the Christian afterlife- though one may affect the other.) I loathe proof-texting, which is takes portions of the Bible that prove one’s point and disregarding texts that do not. In my own interpretive stance, I try to look at things through the lens of Jesus Christ and him crucified.

Frequently there is a struggle today in modern churches of all kind on judging and how we are to judge one another and one another’s behaviors. If we lived in Calvin’s Geneva, the laws of the land would echo the laws in the Bible and we would never be confused. Except that it seems that some people there were.

Whenever we take it upon ourselves to judge the theological soundness or spiritual health of our neighbor, we’re into dangerous and deep waters. So how can we uphold what we believe to be the truth (Honor your father and mother, so that your days may be long in the land that the Lord your God is giving you. (Exodus 20:12)) and what we know is sometimes reality (some parents do not treat their children well, to put it mildly)?

If we do know and believe that all sins are equal in the eyes of the Lord and that all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of the Lord, then we know that we each persist in sin. (Except me.) We do things that we know are not in keeping with God’s laws or the spirit of the laws or within the right behavior prescribed and described for us by Jesus.

How do we speak the truth in love, saying “I think what you’re doing is wrong. I want to help.” Who knows what is wrong? 1) Is the sin causing people to lose faith in Jesus? (Causing others to stumble) 2) Is the sin separating people from God, beyond by its definition and in reality interfering with their relationship of prayer, praise, confession and forgiveness and daily relationship?

Within history, there have been movements within the Christian community that caused rifts and still do. Some churches split on geographical lines during the Civil War. Some churches divided and remain divided over the ordination of women. Some churches don’t allow women to wear pants. Some Christians don’t drink caffeine or alcohol. Some churches reject people who are divorced.

When we can clearly see that someone’s actions are hurting other people or themselves, we are called, through a Biblical pattern, to intervene. We stand against free will when we have an intervention for an alcoholic, when we call the police during a domestic dispute, when we sit on the jury during a murder trial. Through God’s word and the laws of man, we are bound to stop things that hurt other people.

As a church, we walk a fine line of showing love, of using repentant posturing, of praying for our neighbors and of offering corrective actions. In deciding how to handle any matter, we not only look to the Bible, which gives instruction and framework, we also pray and consider how God is leading us at this very time.

If we believe that we can only receive instruction through the Bible, the implication can be that God is no longer speaking. If we disregard the Bible, the implication can be that it has no authority and we may mistake our own desires for the will of God, because we do not recognize God’s voice. If we disregard reason, the implication can be that God desires unthinking automatons. If we disregard faith, the implication is that God isn’t using us, but that we are forging ahead through our own knowledge of what is right, wrong and true.

Surely, there is a better way.

But strive for the greater gifts. And I will show you a still more excellent way.

If I speak in the tongues of mortals and of angels, but do not have love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal. And if I have prophetic powers, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. If I give away all my possessions, and if I hand over my body so that I may boast, but do not have love, I gain nothing.

Love is patient; love is kind; love is not envious or boastful or arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice in wrongdoing, but rejoices in the truth. It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.

Love never ends. But as for prophecies, they will come to an end; as for tongues, they will cease; as for knowledge, it will come to an end. For we know only in part, and we prophesy only in part; but when the complete comes, the partial will come to an end. When I was a child, I spoke like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child; when I became an adult, I put an end to childish ways. For now we see in a mirror, dimly, but then we will see face to face. Now I know only in part; then I will know fully, even as I have been fully known. And now faith, hope, and love abide, these three; and the greatest of these is love. 1 Corinthians 12:31- 13:13

Is that helpful? Maybe not. Is it easy? Definitely not.

But it’s better than a millstone around the neck.