 |
||||||||||||||||||
 |
||||||||||||||||||
|
||||||||||||||||||
WORSHIP THIS SUNDAY CONTACT US |
CHRIST THE KING SERMON When you hear the word "king", what images come to mind? Gold crown, for sure; impressive throne, probably; gorgeous robes, wealth, power, honor. Even in modern constitutional monarchies, there's at least prestige, privilege and influence, if not outright power. In Jesus' day, most kings wielded absolute power. Their word was law. And with the power often came tyranny. King Herod had his two sons and his teen-aged brother-in-law killed, and even his wife, because he doubted their loyalty. In this 34 th chapter of Ezekiel, the verses just prior to today's reading, the Lord gives sharp judgment to the wayward kings and leaders of Israel--'false shepherds'--for the abuse and neglect of their people, particularly those most vulnerable and needy ones. So, in an amazingly touching way, God promises that he himself will become the shepherd, searching, gathering and caring for his flock, feeding and watering them, and bandaging their wounds. "I will bind up the injured, and I will strengthen the weak, but the fat and the strong I will destroy," says the Lord. "I will feed them justice !" Those are harsh words for the 'haves,' aren't they? "I will judge between the fat sheep and the lean. Because you pushed and butted the weak ones with your horns, I will save my flock, and they shall no longer be ravaged." Harsh words for the bullies who throw their weight around, they show God's deepest devotion to those who were vulnerable and set upon. God goes on to promise a good shepherd in his servant David, who shall feed and care for the sheep as God intends. Do you see what's going on here? The Lord God of all creation is defining kingship as servanthood. His power is shown not as the world counts might, but in caring for the needy, the sick, the hungry. God's majesty and glory are manifested not on high, but in love for the lost and least of his flock. That image is taken a step further, if you can imagine it, in today's gospel reading, which happens to be the last--the pinnacle?--of Jesus' teaching before his death in Matthew's gospel. Like Ezekiel, it is a vision of judgment, this time between sheep and goats...between those who serve the needy and those who don't. In Ezekiel, the Lord promises to care for the lost, the hungry, the sick. In today's gospel, Jesus identifies with--becomes one with-- all of them. In an age gone mad with devotion to self, to status, to power, Jesus' identity with the 'leasts' of the world is stunning. And at a time of such economic uncertainty, where even the 'haves' feel vulnerable--the image of private-jetted auto execs with their tin cups out to Congress comes to mind--Jesus' revelation may be downright revolutionary. "If you served them, you served me," he declares. Could it be any clearer?! "If you denied them, you denied me." Period! That's the judgment. Those deeds or omissions determine who inherits the kingdom and who's consigned to eternal fire. Exclamation point! I've got to admit that to Lutheran ears it sounds like 'works righteousness,' earning salvation: "If I feed the hungry, clothe the naked, care for the sick, then I'm in." Where's the grace in that? But what keeps it from heavenly score-keeping is the fact that neither the sheep nor the goats knew what they had done. The response of both groups was the same: "When did we see you, Lord?" In other words, Jesus turns the whole faith enterprise from an "if...then.." to a "because...therefore..." It's not about earning a reward at all. It is about reflecting a gift: "Because I love you," he declares, "you will be loving." "For God so loved the world that he gave " has been our stewardship theme this year. The presence of love is made real in loving deeds, because in a sense the power of love has no choice but to do. It may sound a bit corny, but I'll risk a verse from the "The Sound of Music": A bell's not a bell 'til you ring it; A song's not a song 'til you sing it; And love in your heart wasn't put there to stay. Love isn't love 'til you give it away. The sheep belonged to the Good Shepherd. Because they were filled with his love, their lives in faith overflowed with it. Born again in him, the love became second nature in them. So its' like this: When someone's hungry, what do you do? Feed them. Naked? Clothe them. In prison? Visit them. They did it not because they expected a pay-off, but because it was the right thing to do. The responses came to the sheep so naturally that it was only afterward--at judgment time--that they discovered the joy of having served Christ in all of it. On All Saints' Sunday I mentioned that when Jesus comes into our midst/at this table, he brings his friends with him. Today's gospel widens that guest list considerably with the 'leasts' near and far. Jesus brings them and is one with them. And so, in his mystical body, they become one with us: hungry, naked, sick, stranger, imprisoned ones, they become our sisters and brothers. I wonder what other leasts might be added in our own day? Jobless, homeless, mentally ill, physically handi-capped, welfare mothers, gays, illegal immigrants? Are any of them unwelcome in Jesus' family? Any of them beyond the reach of grace? Are any of outside the scope of our loving care? That's why so many opportunities come our way: food pantry, Family Promise, angel tree, Opportunity House, Topton Home, prayer shawls, Stephen Ministry, Reconciling in Christ, Barnabas visitors, Deaf congregation, school programs, and on and on. They are placed before us not to rack up points, nor to make us feel guilty, but simply because they are needs to be met, channels for God's love in us. They are how we practice faith; how the body of Christ gets its exercise. Without them, faith would whither. The end of a year is often the time for marking resolutions, and maybe that's not a bad idea for the end of this church year. "Jesus is Lord!" we proclaim. "Christ is King!" we sing. With all the question marks that fill the year ahead, what solid evidence can we provide for his place in our lives and in the world? With so many of the 'leasts' in every direction, Jesus makes it clear that life depends on our response: their lives...and ours. Amen. PENTECOST XXVII SERMON You understand, I think, that Deaconess Deborah and I do not pick the scripture readings each week. Some ecumenical and international group of wise ones put together our 3-year lectionary cycle so that millions of Christians around the world--Roman Catholic, Presbyterian, Methodist, Lutherans and more--are quite literally on the same page (or pages) each week at worship. God knows when these passages were chosen. But did you notice that in the midst of our economic turmoil, with hurting industries, failing banks and falling home prices, the weekend of the G20 meeting in Washington, and as Trinity's stewardship campaign is in full swing, today's readings are about money?! For thousands of years it's been true: money is the source of power; money is the object of devotion; and money is the cause of Trouble, with a capital "T". Blustery Amos was wild enough last week, but today the prophet Zephaniah ups the ante even higher, declaring : "Their wealth shall be plundered and their houses laid waste." (Visions of the cataclysmic California wild fires!) "Though they build their houses, they shall not inhabit them." (How many millions of pending mortgage foreclosures?!) "Neither their silver nor their gold will be able to save them on the day of the Lord's wrath." (I wonder if someone should mention that to Paulson and Bernanke?) As if those aren't compelling enough verses, the real money focus for today comes from that much-loved and much-told 'parable of the talents.' Now, we've domesticated the parable to a great extent because of the English translation of the word as "talent." When we hear it, what do we think of? Brains or athleticism, art or music. But the word Matthew uses has to do with moola , Gelt, mucho dinero , a great big pile of cash! A talent was, in fact, a ridiculously large sum of money. One talent was the equivalent of 6,000 days of wages, nearly twenty years worth. So, one talent today would earily equal $700,000. Two talents, $1.4 million. Five talents, $3.5 million. Wow! (Can't you just imagine Jesus first telling this parable, with the listeners grabbing their hearts or staggering to the ground in amazement. The story from the outset is simply outrageous!) A man (think Donald Trump or Bill Gates), preparing for a long trip, summons 3 servants, gives them Fort Knox, and says goodbye. The first one, with 5 talents, immediately goes to work and doubles the money. (I'd welcome some pointers from him, but Matthew gives us none!) The second, with 2 talents, does the same. But #3 digs a hole--it would have to be a sizeable one!--and hides the 700 thou' for safe keeping. You know what happened when the master returns. He delights in the results of the first two, of course. But he goes ballistic with the third: "Bind him up! Throw him out! Let him suffer!" Although it can be dangerous to allegorize the parables of Jesus, it seems pretty clear here that the Master in this one is the God-figure. I think that's particularly interesting in light of how we've been maligning overpaid CEO's and scurrilous investment bankers of late. Now God appears as a billionaire entrepreneur! But there it is, and his expectations and judgments loom large in the story. The Lord and Master hands out the money and expects it to be used well. He wants a return on the investment. Two of the slaves work hard. They are clever, willing to risk a bit, and they do well for the boss. They are called 'good and trustworthy', and rewarded with even more. But the third slave, the cautious one, is called 'wicked and lazy,' then cursed by the Master. Seem a bit harsh? Let's stop for a moment and think about what may have been going on with those three. The successful ones allowed the gift to go to work through them. They wanted to see it grow for their master's sake. They focused on the bounty they received and on its potential. They were devoted to the Giver and to the intention of the gift. Slave #3, however, had one prime motivator controlling him: fear! "I was afraid and hid your talent in the ground," he explained. He didn't risk it, didn't lose it, but also didn't do anything with it. The other two, with their buying and selling, trading and investing, touched lots of lives and added to the wealth. The third guy's talent did nothing for anyone. His fear was paralyzing, smothering, oppressive. No wonder the Master was so furious. If he had given him nothing , the result would have been the same. Some scholars feel that Matthew might have been thinking about the young Jewish-Christian community he's writing to. They were perhaps too cautious about sharing their gospel with the Gentiles, even though the potential for growth was tremendous. It could be his way of saying, "God gives us the faith to be multiplied, not hidden underground." And that can be a worthwhile take for us, too, I think. How cautious are we with the gospel message? How many people have you brought to faith? Just think of the potential of this group gathered here, if we were willing to risk a bit with what we've been given: to tell the story of God's love; to invite some to worship with you; to talk about the place of Jesus in your life. But whether it's about what to do with our faith, or what to do with our money, or what to do with other aspects of the English word 'talent', I think that our attitude--our focus--is really critical. For starters, from whom does it all come? (Time, talent, treasure, I mean.) What are the Giver's intentions/expectations as all this stuff is laid on us? And just how do we respond?! It's a tragedy, I think, that so many are apparently so overwhelmed by fear. I mean, really, are we trying to protect God somehow? Don't we trust what God can accomplish in and through us? Are we too timid to get involved in the adventure that might ensue, out of our control? Taking us where we don't expect? (Oh my!) It seems to be that "cautious faith" is dying faith at best, likely not really faith at all. In his visit to our Mission District the other week, Bishop Zeiser remarked that being a disciple when times are good is easy. It is when the going gets tough that true discipleship shines. I think he's absolutely right, and that's why I was thrilled to see what happened with your stewardship response last week. The first one hundred pledges received this year are $80,000 ahead of the first hundred cards last year. I know we've got a way to go, but that's a bold assertion/risk/investment from this body of Christ in the midst of such intimidating times. I pray it will continue! Because this parable reminds us that one of the worst things we can do as believers is to circle the wagons, hunker down, and cower in fear. We are about God's business, after all, and with God it is all about abundance-grace, love, peace, hope--because God will accomplish what God intends. Did you hear what happened to the two slaves who realized that, who focused fully on the gift and the Giver? The Boss said to them, "Enter into the joy of your Master." (That was in stark contrast to the outer darkness, weeping and gnashing of #3's teeth!) "Enter into my joy!" The word joy-- chairo in Greek--is a special one for Matthew. "Joy" is what was experienced when the Magi saw the infant Jesus, when the great treasure was discovered in the field, when the lost sheep was found, when the disciples came to the empty tomb and heard "He is risen!" That joy comes from one place alone: from life abundant in Christ. And it is a joy that nothing in this world can threaten or subdue. The 2 nd century theologian Irenaeus wrote: "The glory of God is a human being fully alive!" And another ancient testimony declares: "Even at the grave we make our song: Alleluia!" Dear friends, there's our treasure for the world: Jesus lives. He will triumph! We are blessed. Alleluia indeed!! Amen.PENTECOST XXVI SERMON What a difference a week makes! We as a nation have elected a new president, for one thing. However you might have voted, I think most people agree that Senator Obama is a remarkable orator. His use of language and his ability to communicate are rare gifts. But whether it was he or Senator McCain elected on Tuesday, I suspect we all might rightly now feel: "OK. Let's see if it's more than just talk. Will he be able to accomplish the things that he said he would?" What a difference a week makes! Do you remember last Sunday's sermon? (Be glad there's no pop quiz!) But my point on All Saints Sunday was the glory of heaven's worship in the face of the world's turmoil. I talked about our uniting with heaven's choirs and having a foretaste of heaven's banquet, remember? (Please nod, whether you do or not. I'll feel better//It'll look better on TV.) But by this week from the prophet Amos we hear the Lord saying, "I hate your solemn assemblies; I reject your offerings. (Great message for pledge Sunday, don't you think?!) "Enough of your noisy songs. Turn off the organ. (It really says 'harp,' but never mind.) What's going on here? Why does the Lord turn his back on the worship that I claimed was so essential to faith last week? Well, it's very much the stuff of politics...the ordering of society! A president needs to be more than just words, even pretty ones. He or she needs to be about deeds, action, and, crass as it may sound, putting money where mouth is. In the same way, worship has got to be more than well-rehearsed music, polished sermons, beautiful prayers and lovely surroundings. For the presidency and for worship to be authentic, the talk must be matched by the walk! Hear again the Lord's booming voice: "Let justice roll down like waters and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream." These are not the words of a fickle God, please understand. For a great long time the Lord tried to correct, reprove, and warn his people. Prophets were sent in with clear messages. But over the long years of peace and prosperity, God's people drew further and further away. They were much more concerned about luxury than faithfulness. The rich grew richer on the backs of the poor. Dishonest business practices became the norm, courts were bribed, and privileges were bought for a price. (Any relationship between that description of 8 th Century BC and 2008 is strictly intentional!) The Lord pointed out every vile excess in their lives. God laid out the issues and reminded them of their obligations, and even stretched a plumb line to prove how out-of-whack they were. But the Israelites refused to hear the Lord over the din of their parties. Living the good life, they knew how to write their own rules, thanks-very-much, God (!). And their self-centered pride even extended to the temple. "We know how to worship right. Big choirs, fat sacrifices, gorgeous robes. Won't the Lord be pleased as punch with us?!" To the contrary, the Lord popped his cork! Their music and prayers and sacrifices, however 'by the book,' did not match their hearts or their deeds. It is blasphemy to sing God's praises, then to trample on his most vulnerable people. It is hypocritical to thank God for his blessings, then pretend they are your own. It is downright wicked to receive forgiveness from the Lord, only to withhold it from others. "Let justice roll down like waters, and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream." Actually, the Hebrew of that last phrase is more dramatic: "let righteousness roar down as if the dam broke: tumbling and powerful, transforming the face of the earth with its impact." It is urgent to God--not optional--that the worship of his people be reflected in their daily lives. That same urgency is shown in today's parable of the Wise and Foolish Bridesmaids. They were to live in constant readiness for the Bridegroom's arrival, for the Lord's return: lamps filled and wicks trimmed to light his way. At any time he may arrive, so at every moment we are to be ready. There is so much of our weekly liturgy which intends to spill out into the streets of daily living: the forgiveness of sins, for starters. "Forgive us as we forgive others", remember? There's the repeated 'peace' of the Kyrie, demonstrated in the sharing of peace after the prayers. "Let it begin with me." Receiving the living Christ in Word and Sacrament, we are sent out to be his body in the world. Coming and going, we are people marked by his cross, filled with his love. We could do a series of sermons or forums on those elements of worship and their connection to life. But I'd like to look for just a few moments in a different direction...at the hymns we sing. They are each week the offering of our voices to God. But see what they mean--more importantly-- for the offering of our lives. (By the way, I suggest them as a great meditation focus. If you arrive in the pew before worship starts, just pick one of the hymns and spend time praying the words.) Today's entrance hymn, for example, calls us from the noisy outside to a holy space, to focus heart and mind on God. ' Jesus calls us from the worship of the vain world's golden store, from each idol that would keep us, saying 'Christian, love me more.'" To me, that's 19 th century poetry packing a wallop for 21 st century Christians! So God says, "I hear you, loud and clear. Now just what are you going to do about those golden idols?!" The hymn of the day is a doozey, too! (Great job, Marian!) You can thank me for the warning before you jump into it. "Take my life, that I may be consecrated, Lord, to thee. Take my hands, and let them move at the impulse of thy love . (Then it really gets personal:) Take my silver and my gold; not a mite would I withhold. (You might want to check out the story of Ananias and Sapphira in Acts 5 on that verse!) Take my will and make it thine. It shall be no longer mine." That's just one little hymn. Can you imagine how different the world would be if all who sang it actually lived it?! The same is true for sending hymn today, an old German dance tune. The vibrant text and lively melody are especially profound in our world so filled with fear, where cowering may be the most tempting posture. "In dir ist Freude..." we sing. "In thee is gladness amid all sadness, Jesus, sunshine of my heart. Jesus is ours! We fear no powers, not of earth or sin or death. He sees and blesses in worst distresses; he can change them with a breath." Can you see what that hymn can mean lived out as we face economic and international turmoil? Fears of the future vanish in the light of Christ. "Perfect loves casts out fear," remember? If the one we worship Is the one in charge, how can we fail to live in trust and hope? Those are just this week's examples, but the hymns do that every week. They become our gift to God only as they give evidence of our faith at work outside these walls. Short of that, says Amos, God closes his ears. You may have heard the phrase, "Be careful what you pray for." We might want to tweak that a bit to "Be careful how you worship." Because, if God has his way, they will be more than words. By God, those words will transform our minds and hearts, and a whole cadre of "little Christs", to use Luther's phrase, will be send out from here to make the world new. Well, what do you say? Let's see what a difference this week can make! Amen. All Saints Sunday SERMON I'd like to put your imaginations work again this week. It was cosmic imagining last week; closer to home today.) OK?! Imagine that it's a time of instability and turmoil. A once great empire has fallen on hard times. No longer able to secure the peace, it now looks for scapegoats to explain its woes. Those scapegoats are ridiculed and persecuted, and you know that you might be next. There's great fear about any change in the emperor because that has often meant hardship. Unstable, paranoid rulers have come and gone, churning up blood and pain in their wake. Through all of the uncertainty and peril, you are reminded by a great teacher that you are ' in , but not of ' this world. The world strives for wealth and power, but your struggling little band practices loving servanthood instead. Sharing is more important than acquiring. The world thinks you're crazy, counter-cultural, perhaps revolutionary. The society around you thrills in the great games of the empire. At first, they were just for fun, but as time went on, the higher the cost, the better. So "victory" for some came to mean certain death for others--often your friends--but it kept the crowds happy. You follow the One who calls 'blessed' not the victorious, but the meek, the hungry, the mourning, the merciful, the persecuted. And, against all odds, you take heart in his promises. It is the church of the second century that I'm asking you to imagine, although I admit the allusions to Wall Street, election day, and the World Series weren't exactly accidental. The Book of Revelation was written for threatened Christians in Rome, fearing for their very lives as the shaky empire, with its often-demented leaders, time and again blamed the fledgling Christians for the ills that befell them. Christians, you see, refused to worship the Emperor, so they were blamed for angering all the Roman gods. Not so different than the Nazis scape-goating the Jews in the 1930's, or people nowadays laying blame the problems we face on Latinos, Blacks, or Muslims. It's so much easier to point the finger and abdicate personal responsibility. Depending upon who was ruling or how great the problems, in wave after wave, Christians were fed to the lions at the games, used as human torches at garden parties, or otherwise sacrificed to keep the gods happy, hoping to return to the 'good old days', when Rome was everything. In the face of all that, John's "Revelation" was written, in largely coded language and images, to give hope to God's faithful ones. "The blood of the martyrs is the seed of the church," they declared. Indeed, the more they were persecuted, the stronger the faith became. It's an irreverent image, I know, but it reminds me of the carnival game "Whack-a-Mole": pound down one, and 3 others pop up! That's the way it was with Christians in the early church. Written as a letter for the second century, some popular authors in recent years have treated "Revelation" as if it just dropped down from heaven (and they've made a ton of money pretending it's so!) The "Left Behind" series, among others, has capitalized on fear, duping people into seeing Russia, or politics, the UN, or the Euro even, as 'predicted by the Bible' and 'signs of the Endtimes.' It is, I'm convinced, very bad theology, an affront to the Spirit, and an utter waste of time to read the Bible that way. But, believe me, I'm not ready to chuck the last book of Scripture! It does indeed have something very important to say to us...(something far more profound than a made-for-TV movie!) Did you catch the picture brought to us from that 7 th chapter? It comes between the opening of the 6 th and 7 th seals of the great book of the Lamb (depicted right about here on the cross.) God is fed up with the world. It is a time of danger, fear, and chaos because--once again!--false gods replaced the one true God. Realizing the corruption and anticipating the fall of the Roman Empire, Christians were called to hold fast to the promises of the One who died to save them, seated on the throne in their midst. In the face of all that foreboding turmoil, do you see what picture John gives us? It is a glimpse of worship , heavenly worship, that gives hope and strength. "There was a great multitude that no one could count," he writes. (I know the logistics of planning Bishop Zeiser's installation for 800 people. I can't imagine what it takes for something like this!) And see who's included in the great multitude: "people from every nation, from all tribes and peoples and languages, standing before the throne and before the lamb, robed in white..." The white robe is a baptismal image, people 'clothed in the righteousness of Christ.' And that baptism transcends--welcomes and makes one--all the peoples of the earth: all races, tribes, languages, nations. I could--perhaps should--spend the rest of the sermon here, with the issues of immigration, race, and language in this country, Sunnis and Shias in Iraq, Tutsis and Hutus in the Congo, and countless more hatreds and dividing walls. Dear friends, I'll just say this: If you want to spend eternity in heaven, you better get used to people who are different than you. Racism, sexism, classism, nationalism, tribalism have no place in the kingdom of God. It is a painful irony that the KKK and Nazis both use a form of the cross as their symbol, perverting to divide what Christ used to make whole. (We'll be looking at religion in Nazi Germany the next two weeks of Adult Forum, by the way. Join us!) On with the worship! That mass of multi-cultural humanity is joined by angels of every sort, and they sing : "Blessing and glory and wisdom and honor and power and might be to our God forever!" I don't know whether it was the American hymn "Blessing and Honor" or the end of Handel's "Messiah" that might have come to mind when you heard those words, but hear the music! We've got such glorious music today. (OK, every week! But let's not take it for granted!) Music is not incidental to worship. It's central...even in heaven! When we sing the "Holy, Holy" at communion, we join the cherubim and seraphim around the throne of God. Music unites our voices with one another--amazing enough. But more, it joins us with the choirs of heaven. In fact, we could say that every time we worship--and sing here--it's a rehearsal for eternity. (If you'd like even more practice, talk to Dr. Wolfe about choir!) In the same way, this table week after week extends to the banquet table of heaven. This 'foretaste of the feast to come' is an appetizer for the party that vanquishes death and celebrates life eternal with God. Deaconess Deborah likes to say, "When Jesus comes, he brings all his friends." As the Lord comes to us in this meal, he brings those dear ones we remember today, and all those others gone before us in the faith. (Those white-robed martyrs, even!) We don't just remember them today. We celebrate each Eucharist with them. I'm sure many of you have been in Eastern Orthodox churches, filled with icons of the holy ones: walls, chancel, ceiling, everywhere....like an ecclesiastical IMAX! Their understanding of worship--"Divine Liturgy"--is that they are lifted up to heaven for that hour or so, taken up to be with Christ and all the saints. And so the saints through those icons visibly surround them in that worship space. It is a splendid way of thinking--imagining--even in our more austere surroundings. As we face the adjustments of a new president and administration, deal with the sobering reality of our economy, try to do what's best in Iraq and Afghanistan, adapt to the loss of loved-ones, deteriorating health or relationships, see what's happening! Whatever we bring to this table...to the Lord, please hear and take heart in his pronouncement: " Blessed are they ..." he declares. Blessed in the present tense, notice. Jesus not only promises the future, but he also comes here and now to bring wholeness and peace. Blessed are those who suffer and lack: poor, mourning, hungering, and the like. Blessed also are those who are in concert with God's efforts: merciful, pure in heart, peacemakers, yes, even the persecuted. Blessed are they--are we!--for the company we keep in Christ. I hope you'll agree: There's reason enough to get on with the singing! Amen. |
|||||||||||||||||
Home I About I Worship I Trinity Deaf I Groups & Events I Contact I Site Map
© 2007 Trinity Lutheran Church
|
||||||||||||||||||
