Fishing for People

January 22, 2023
St. John’s United Church of Christ, Union, Illinois

Matthew 4:12-23[1]

What is the one thing Jesus talks about most? The kingdom of Heaven or the kingdom of God. What we sometimes get wrong is what that means. I believe that when Jesus talks about the kingdom of God, he is talking about what God is doing in this world, with these people, not a heavenly world yet to come or a kingdom of the afterlife. Now, that does not mean that Jesus did not believe in a heavenly world. He certainly did, and talked about that as well, but when Jesus taught or preached the kingdom of Heaven, he was talking about God’s will being done on earth. The kingdom of heaven has come near is about God’s will being done on earth as it is in heaven.

The focus of Jesus’ ministry is the rule of God in this world, the will of God being realized on this earth in the lives and relationships of people, in the structures, systems, organizations, and institutions of society, and in all creation. The kingdom of God is ultimately about the health and well-being of us in the here-and-now, in this life, among these people. Heaven may be really nice, but Jesus didn’t come to take us all to Heaven, but rather to bring Heaven here.

Jesus called the disciples to follow him and fish for people. As modern day disciples of Jesus, we too are called to share his passion and work, his love of God and of people, his concern for the poor and the marginalized, his commitment to peace and justice. In the water of Baptism, we symbolically die and rise again to life, dying to the false self so the true self can flourish, ending the life of sin and rising to the life of faith.

The call to repent is a call to change the direction of our lives. Instead of living for honor, glory, power, or fulfillment for ourselves, we decide to live for the honor and glory of God, to love God and love our neighbor and work for a just world. The call to repent and be a disciple of Jesus is a call to change the focus of our lives so that we are centered in God’s rule and God’s will for life on earth, a life focused on the well-being of others.

For some folk, the invitation to repentance is understood as trying to make amends for all the bad stuff we’ve done before we get in trouble. It is based on fear and avoiding doom rather than learning how to love and being transformed. Fear of punishment, especially eternal punishment, may motivate us to modify our behavior, but fear cannot redeem us at the core of our being. As the author of 1 John wrote: “There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear.”[2] Fear is not God’s tool for transformation.

It is not fear, but love and the hope of redemption that is transforming. If we walk along the road of life but do not fall in love with God and find ourselves compelled by Jesus’ vision of a just world for all, we will not be truly changed. We might become religious, we might alter certain behaviors, we might join a church and become part of a faith community, but unless we fall in love with God and learn how to truly love others, we will not be transformed.

“As he walked by the Sea of Galilee, [Jesus] saw two brothers, Simon, who is called Peter, and Andrew his brother, casting a net into the sea—for they were fishermen. And he said to them, ‘Follow me, and I will make you fish for people.’”[3] They respond “immediately” and leave everything behind. Peter, Andrew, James, and John jump at the chance to change, to seek a life beyond subsistence and drudgery, a life pursuing a better world. This is Capernaum, land of Zebulun, land of Naphtali, where the people have sat in darkness, in the region and shadow of death. Jesus’s arrival is like the light of dawn breaking forth.

For these fishermen, the power of Rome asserted control over the land, their production, and the transportation and marketing of their catch with contracts and taxes. That they jump at the chance for something new is not surprising. What is surprising is that, even when it became clear this mission might be dangerous, they stuck with it. John had already been imprisoned; he would soon be executed. Jesus doesn’t just heal people, but teaches them a way of life that defies the empire and its fear-based power. They will catch people, who will be transformed, and an entire world will be turned upside down. Yet, even when the one who called them was taken to the cross, they stayed the course.

They weren’t particularly qualified to be change-makers. They had no training in sociology or psychology. They may have known the scriptures, and heard stories of a Messiah, but who were they to be partners in transforming the world with love? Yet, they were chosen. Just some ordinary fishermen, but Jesus called them to follow him. It would be a big change. It would be hard. It would be dangerous at times. But it would also be wonderful, amazing, transformative.

The call is being issued today, to us, to you and me, just us ordinary folk without much in the way of training in transforming the world. But we are being called, not by a figure on the seashore, but by the living Christ in our midst, in this very room with us.

Follow me, Jesus says, and shine some light into the darkness. Follow me and spread some good news to people who need to hear it. Learn from me how to gather people into a force for transforming the world with love. Follow me, says Christ, and discover what it means to be fully human.

But, be warned. The kingdom of Heaven means a world that is changed. It means defying empire. It means dreaming new dreams. It means pursuing peace. It means standing for justice with the marginalized and the poor. It means forgiving and loving enemies. It means making God’s vision our vision, and serving God’s will rather than our self-interest. It means loving others and helping them to love as well. And like a great light dawning in a world of shadows, it will be glorious.  Amen.

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[1] The scripture quotations contained herein are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyright © 1989 by the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the U.S.A.  Used by permission.  All rights reserved.

[2] 1 John 4:18.

[3] Matthew 4:18-19.

A Signal to the Peoples

December 4, 2022 – Advent 2
St. John’s United Church of Christ, Union, Illinois

Isaiah 11:1-10; Matthew 3:1-12[1]

Isaiah has hope for the future of Israel. He proclaims in this passage the coming of a righteous ruler in the line of David, and an age of harmony and peace. This was at a time when ancient Israel had divided into a northern kingdom of Israel and a southern kingdom of Judah. War with Assyria would soon destroy Samaria and end the northern kingdom. If a messiah were to come, Isaiah recognizes that it might not be in his lifetime, and the peaceable kingdom might be a consummation of God’s kingdom in the distant future. Yet he remains hopeful.

The branch growing out of the root of Jesse references the house of King David, the son of Jesse. The hoped-for king will be known as “the anointed one” and “The spirit of the Lord shall rest on him, the spirit of wisdom and understanding, the spirit of counsel and might, the spirit of knowledge and the fear of the Lord” (Is 11:2). The king will rule with righteousness, defending the welfare of the most defenseless and marginal.

Early Christians saw this model of leadership fulfilled in Jesus. He is the descendent of David who will usher in the reign of God’s kingdom. The kingdom of God, so often referenced in our Gospels, will encompass not only the future of Israel but the Gentiles and all the nations. In Jesus, we see the hope for the future, the completion of God’s vision, and the fulfillment of Isaiah’s hope for the peoples.

As we read Isaiah’s oracle of hope in our own time this Advent, we claim the anointed son of David in Jesus Christ, the new branch grown from the root of Jesse. We see Christ as the signal to the peoples of the promised consummation of God’s peaceable kingdom yet to come. It is a world where no one will hurt or destroy, when all of the earth will be full of the knowledge and presence of the Lord.

John the Baptist also holds this hope for the future of God’s people. He knows what Isaiah hoped for, as he quoted, “Prepare the way of the Lord” (Mt 3:3; Is 40:3). He proclaims the nearness of the reign of God, and announces the one who is coming after him with power.

John’s vision is more severe than that of Isaiah, at least in the way it is directed toward the Pharisees and Sadducees. To John, the temple and imperial buildings represented the centralized power of the Roman regime. The leaders considered themselves secure in the status-quo, children of Abraham, heirs to the promises of God. John warns of the ax lying at the root of the trees. Here in the wilderness – in Israel’s history the place of renewal – the old ways of power will be thrown into the fire and the new creation will be born, the new kingdom of God.

John, this wild man living on the margins, drew the people out of the center, out of Jerusalem and the temple. Here in the wilderness, on the fringes of society, the renewal and redemption of the people is taking place. The Pharisees and Sadducees, aligned with the ruling class, perceive John as a threat to their interests. The power and influence of the temple and the system of religious sacrifices is challenged by John’s baptism of repentance. John’s warnings of judgement are directed at them. More worrisome for them, and more encouraging for those on the banks of the Jordan, is the hope of one who is coming to baptize with the Holy Spirit and fire.

Jesus didn’t come to burn everything down. We must remember, it is only the chaff that is burned. The wheat is gathered into the granary. That which does us no good is cleared away, and what remains is redeemed. Wealth and status, bloodlines and position hold no more value in the kingdom of heaven than the sinners gathered by the river in the wilderness. What is of value, repentance and renewal, faithfulness and good works, these are harvested by the one who holds the winnowing-fork.

We, of course, are not rulers or judges or nations. We are not Pharisees or Sadducees. We are more like the people of Jerusalem and all Judea, gathered here rather than the river, yet still seeking repentance and renewal. We have come with our sins to confess, and we bring the scars of the sins committed against us. We seek the one who will judge with righteousness, and we are recovering from those who have judged us without righteousness. And what we find in the words of Isaiah and of John is both acceptance and admonition. We discover here, that we are loved for who we are and we are also responsible for what we do.

This Advent, as we gather in our sacred space, we enter the threshing-floor. We don’t yearn for judgement, yet we know that we have judged others. We hope that our unrighteous judgements will be swept away. We wash in the water, and hope that it will wash away our sins; but we know we have sinned against others. We hope the fire will burn that inclination away. We are grateful that one who winnows is the one who judges with righteousness and decides with equity.

As we prepare to welcome the Christ-child, we remember who we are. We learn again that we are loved, and that we are expected to be loving. We are reminded that we are loved enough by God to be welcomed into the family of Christ, and that God loves us enough to expect that we will act accordingly. My prayer for you is that this Advent season prepares you for a life which signals that the kingdom of heaven has come near.  Amen.

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[1] The scripture quotations contained herein are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyright © 1989 by the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the U.S.A.  Used by permission.  All rights reserved.

Worries and Distractions

July 17, 2022
St. John’s United Church of Christ, Union, Illinois

Luke 10:38-42[1]

There has certainly been plenty to worry and distract a person lately. I often find it hard to focus on the task at hand. Even if I’m not actively trying to heal a broken world, comfort the afflicted, or advocate for a more humane society, it weighs on my mind. It is exhausting to live through a global pandemic, high inflation, a democracy under threat, and the erosion of the rights of those I love. And yet, the work of living day after day continues.

I imagine Martha had a lot on her mind as well. Jesus has arrived in town, and though she has welcomed him into her home, now there are seventy or so followers who need attending to. It may well be that Mary, her sister, was usually by her side managing the many tasks of a home filled with guests, but now she has left Martha to do all the work herself.

A similar scene likely played out in many homes where Jesus, the twelve, or the seventy proclaimed the gospel. Some would gather to sit at the feet of the teacher, while others would be busy with serving the needs of the visitors. Some folk find that discipleship means looking after the details of life, the meals to prepare, the sick to nurse, the dirt to clean, and the bills to pay. Others find discipleship in study and prayer, contemplation, worship, teaching and learning. Both are necessary, and we find that there are times for both working and thinking.

Here, in this scene, Jesus chides Martha for her worries and distractions, while praising Mary for choosing the better part of contemplation, learning, and worship. What does this mean for how we order our lives, and what does it say for how the church is to show hospitality?

A community that is welcoming of Christ and those who seek him must give attention to the word of God, to hearing, contemplating, and understanding the call of Jesus upon our lives. If we, as a church, are instead worried and distracted by many things, if the tasks and the work of maintaining the institution are the only focus, then discipleship can come to mean drudgery. We can become so focused on who brings what for the potluck that we can’t see Christ in the breaking of the bread. We can lose ourselves in the meetings and planning and organizing such that we lose sight of why we’re doing any of this.

Mary’s presence at the feet of Jesus shows us a better way. Not a way that ignores the work to be done, or that fails to offer hospitality; rather, a way that remains focused on why we’re here. We gather to read Scripture and wrestle with its meaning. We come to ask for God’s blessing, to hear the good news, and to build up our faith. In the home of Martha, they sought to be together to listen to the words of Jesus, to take comfort from one another and gain strength for the journey ahead. Our gathering here is like a family gathered at a home to break bread and share the cup, to ask questions and seek for meaning and purpose in our life together.

There is still the work to be done. The food and drink must be prepared and later cleared away. The repairs need to be made and the bills need to be paid. Yet, those who have sat at the feet of Jesus now find meaning and purpose in the work that must be done. Those who will go out to teach and heal and clean and welcome will do so filled with more than bread, but with living water that gives life to all they do. The mundane tasks of daily living become the joyous work of our common life.

This way of focusing on the why, rather than the what, is the better part. When Jesus visited with Levi, someone said to him, “John’s disciples… frequently fast and pray, but your disciples eat and drink.” Jesus said to them, “You cannot make wedding guests fast while the bridegroom is with them, can you?”[2] I think that Mary understood this, understood that Jesus would not always be there, that this opportunity to sit and listen at his feet was a fleeting moment, a precious chance to choose the one thing that mattered most. Perhaps Martha, worried by all that needed to be done, failed to remember why any of it mattered.

Our worries and our distractions won’t disappear if we just pray and sing a hymn together. But their burden will feel lighter. Jesus said to the disciples, “Can any of you by worrying add a single hour to your span of life?”[3] Our worries won’t get the work done, and our distractions keep us from hearing God speaking. Our striving for what to eat and what to drink and what to wear does not help us welcome the ones who have come through our doors. Only when we strive for the kingdom of God will we show true hospitality to those who enter our home.

So, friends, let us choose the better part. Let us lay down our burdens and listen to the word as it is spoken. Let us walk with Jesus along our pilgrim journey. The work will still be there for us; but we will be ready for it. We will be prepared to serve as disciples because we have listened at the feet of Jesus. We will be strong enough for what is to come because we will have strengthened one another. We will welcome the kingdom because we will recognize its presence all around us. We will choose the way of life, and it will not be taken from us.  Amen.

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[1] The scripture quotations contained herein are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyright © 1989 by the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the U.S.A.  Used by permission.  All rights reserved.

[2] Luke 5:33-34.

[3] Luke 12:25.

Get Ready

November 8, 2020

St. John’s United Church of Christ, Union, Illinois

Matthew 25:1-13[1]

People get ready, there’s a train comin’
You don’t need no baggage, you just get on board
All you need is faith to hear the diesels hummin’
You don’t need no ticket, you just thank the Lord.[2]

We are all waiting for something. We all seek to know the purpose for our lives.  So, we go about our days trying to find that purpose, that something that will give our lives meaning.  We try to gather those things about us that we think we need to have in order to be ready for life. We are often so preoccupied in making sure that we have the right stuff – the right clothes, the newest phone, oil for our lamps – that we miss the call when it comes.

The bridesmaids were waiting for the bridegroom to meet them.  The wedding banquet was going to be soon, and they would need their lamps to light the way there.  They all took their lamps, but some did not take flasks of oil with them.  The bridegroom was delayed, and they became drowsy and slept.  Then the call came: The bridegroom is here!

My best friend came to me and told me that his dad was dying.  Jeff had ALS, Lou Gehrig's disease, and was fading fast.  As the tears came down his face, my friend said that he was going to need me, and asked me to perform the funeral service.  I said I would do everything that I could, and so I waited for the call.  I gathered some material for the service, prayers and scripture, and I felt prepared.  I never packed a bag, however.  The next few weeks were busy. Then the call came: Jeff's heart stopped.  He's in the hospital.

When the call comes, will you be ready?  When someone needs you to show love, compassion, kindness, will you be ready to give it?  Will you respond, or do you need to make sure that you have everything together?  Some of the bridesmaids were foolish and brought no oil for their lamps.  When the call came, they went off to buy more oil, to get themselves ready.  When my friend called me at work, I went home to pack a bag of clothes, to get ready.

And the door was shut.  The opportunity was missed.  Have you ever missed an opportunity?  Have you ever had the chance to be kind to someone, to show someone that you love them, to be there when a friend needed you, but missed that chance because you didn't feel ready?  Opportunities pass us by, the door is shut, and we feel like we missed something big.  The bridesmaids who went to buy oil were left behind, and the door was shut.  I went home to pack my bag, and by the time I got to my friend, Jeff had died.  An opportunity was missed.

The kingdom of heaven is like this?  The door gets shut and we can't get in?  That's not fair!  I wasn't ready to go!  I didn't have the right clothes!  I didn't have enough oil!  I wasn't ready!

But wait a minute!  To what are we being called?  My friend needed me to be with him when his father died.  He didn't care what clothes I was wearing.  The bridegroom needed the bridesmaids to come to the banquet.  He didn't care if their lamps went out.  We are being called to the kingdom of heaven.  It doesn't matter if we have the right things.  We aren't going to be judged on whether we have oil for our lamps, whether we have on the right clothes.  That is not the point!  The kingdom of heaven is not about punishment and reward.  That is not the point.  The point is that we have been invited to share in the kingdom of heaven, and all we need to do is say yes.

I was being invited to share in a special moment with my friend and his family, to be with them when they needed a friend to share in their pain.  The bridesmaids were being invited to a wedding banquet, to a feast, to share in a celebration!  We are invited to the kingdom of heaven, to celebrate God's love for us and share a sacred feast with one another.

Will you answer the call?  Are you ready to receive the invitation?  Are you ready to leave behind the things that don't matter and choose the way of love, compassion, kindness, and justice?  To follow Christ means to live in readiness.  When someone comes to us in need, when we are invited to share in someone's joy, or someone's pain, are we ready?

It is not always easy to answer the call.  It comes at midnight.  It comes when we are tired.  It comes when we are in the middle of something important.  It may be a long road.  We may lose things on the way.  Our lamps may go out.  It is Jesus we are following, after all.  We might lose our lives!  But the kingdom of heaven is where we are going.

And the good news is that we already have what we need.  Those who were ready were the ones who went with the bridegroom to the banquet.  And when they got there, they didn't need their lamps anymore.  All they needed was to be present at the banquet with the bridegroom, and to share in the celebration.  My friends knew how far away I was, and I went there ready to stand by their side.  And when I got there, I didn't need anything except my love for my friends, to listen, and share in their pain.  When someone comes to you – who needs love, compassion, and kindness – you already have everything you need within you.  When you respond to the invitation, when you answer the call and join with another sharing in their joy, sharing in their pain, you enter the kingdom of heaven.

There's a train a-comin'.  It's the train to Jordan, the train that will bring us to the kingdom of heaven.  And we don't need no baggage, we just get on board.  Faith is the only key we need.  Faith – that Christ is leading us to the kingdom.  Faith – that, when we stand at the door of death, there will be a resurrection.  So, get ready!  Your faith is the lamp that will light the way.  Keep your lamp trimmed and burning; and when it comes, answer the call.  Are you ready?

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[1] The scripture quotations contained herein are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyright © 1989 by the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the U.S.A.  Used by permission.  All rights reserved.

[2] Curtis Mayfield, 1965, recorded by The Impressions © 1964 Warner-Tamerlane Publishing Corp. (Renewed).

The Law, a Prophet, and a Vineyard

October 4, 2020

St. John’s United Church of Christ, Union, Illinois

Exodus 20:1-20; Matthew 21:33-46[1]

The Israelites, set free from slavery in Egypt, begin to establish a new culture. In the wilderness they discover their identity as God’s people.  Having set the people free, God gives them the means to remain free.  The law, beginning with the Ten Commandments, sets this people apart as the people of God – the Lord God who brought them out of slavery to freedom.  And the people of God worship and honor God by obeying God’s laws.

The law is not meant to be a punishment, a burden, or an obstacle to freedom.  True freedom requires responsibility.  Freedom without responsibility, without limits, is the mob rule, freedom for the strong and the powerful, but slavery for the weak and defenseless.

In order to be a free people, we must be at peace with one another, able to trust one another, responsible for the well-being of one another.  And God, by giving the commandments, by setting the boundaries, has provided the means for the people to remain free.  If the people worship God, resist temptation, and take responsibility for one another, they will prosper and remain a free people.  The law would shape the life and identity of the people of God, and be a force that would preserve it against every threat. Through the giving of the commandments God fulfills a promise made earlier in Exodus: “I will take you as my people, and I will be your God.”[1]

God is in a relationship with the people, not unlike the relationship parents have with children. God sets the rules, not so that we can’t have any fun, or have to check off a list of good behavior in order for God to love us. Rather, God show us love in giving the law as the means to have a good and happy relationship with one another and with God. In this sense obedience becomes a loving, grateful response to all that God has done and continues to do. God has given us the commandments to help us to be good people, good neighbors, good citizens even. Without the rules, all of our relationships – with our neighbors, with God, even with our selves – are endangered.

Long before this list of rules, God gave us some work to do. What was the first job that God gave human beings? God made us the gardeners in Eden, and after that bad business about disobedience, we became farmers. Most people throughout history have been farmers or have belonged to agrarian societies. So, it was natural that when Jesus came along, he used agrarian imagery such as the vineyard in our story to talk about the Kingdom of God. Jesus taught people about God’s desires for us using stories that connected with the experiences of the people, so in this story Jesus puts us in a vineyard.

If you work in the vineyard, you are expected to do your job, care for the growth of the vines, and provide the owner with the harvest. You’re also expected to remember that it’s not your vineyard. Now when the owner of the vineyard comes, seeing all that the wicked tenants have done, what will the owner do to those tenants?

In Matthew’s story, the answer they gave to Jesus was, “He will put those wretches to a miserable death, and lease the vineyard to other tenants who will give him the produce at the harvest time” (v. 41). Who is Jesus talking to? There is the crowd, of course, and the disciples, but they seem to be mostly spectators. It is the chief priests and scribes who answer Jesus’ question. And his response turns the tables on them.

Jesus said to them, “Have you never read in the scriptures:

‘The stone that the builders rejected has become the cornerstone;
this was the Lord’s doing, and it is amazing in our eyes’?[2]

“Therefore, I tell you, the kingdom of God will be taken away from you and given to a people that produces the fruits of the kingdom” (vs. 42-43). Matthew ends this passage by telling us that “When the chief priests and the Pharisees heard his parables, they realized that he was speaking about them. They wanted to arrest him, but they feared the crowds, because they regarded him as a prophet” (v. 45).

The parable is a test of leadership. Whose vineyard is it? God planted the vineyard. God is the owner. As the people most responsible for leading the Jewish people at that time, the chief priests are the tenants. The grapes, by the way, are the people to be tended and harvested for the Kingdom of God. We expect good tenants to pay the rent, to do the work that is expected, and to turn over the harvest to the owner. But these are wicked tenants. As one commentary on Matthew’s Gospel tells us, the wicked tenants are those who (1) do not want to give fruit to the owner (or perhaps are unwilling to produce the proper fruit); (2) reject the owner’s authority; and (3) work for themselves.[3]

By rejecting the authority of the messengers, the tenants reject the authority of the owner as well. The tenants see these messengers as a threat to their own prosperity. They have it pretty good in the vineyard, and they’ve worked hard. They expect to keep the profit for themselves. I mean, who needs the owner, right? We’ll just kill his son, the heir, and then the vineyard will be ours! The owner, he’s never around. Who needs him?

The fruit of the vineyard is the grapes, and in this story, we might see ourselves as the grapes meant to be harvested. The wicked tenants want to keep the harvest for themselves. In other words, they want to keep the people, God’s people, for their own purposes. Those in authority want to exploit us. They have taken the first commandment and put themselves in the place of God. How do you think that turned out?

The warning that Jesus gives to the chief priests is that “the kingdom of God will be taken away from you and given to a people that produces the fruits of the kingdom” (v. 43). At the time that Matthew wrote his Gospel, war had swept through Jerusalem and the Temple had been destroyed. The priests of the Temple, with all their power and authority, essentially disappeared from history. Those who had tended the vines and had the responsibility of leading the people were gone.

Leadership of God’s people moved from the Temple in Jerusalem to synagogues and churches. The high priests and Pharisees were replaced by rabbis and ministers. There are new tenants in the vineyard, new caretakers, and we hope that they produce the fruits of the kingdom.

If we pull this analogy up to the current time, those we have put in power are not always the best caretakers. There are those who make a big deal of noise about laws and rules like the Ten Commandments, but only as they apply to people other than themselves. There are those who put on a big show of working for the owner of the vineyard while intending to keep the harvest for themselves. There are those who have forgotten, if they ever really knew, that we are all in relationship with each other, and the well-being of each of us matters for the well-being of all of us.

Perhaps the grapes should reclaim the vineyard. The grapes know how important it is to stick together, to hold each other up, to be thankful for the sun and the rain. I think it is important, no matter who the tenants are, for the grapes to remember who the vineyard belongs to. Whether you fancy yourself a Pinot Noir, a Chardonnay, or a Riesling, we’re all just grapes, and we all need the vine.

The vine is what connects us all. Jesus said, “I am the vine.”[4] Christ is the vine that holds together the grapes; whether we are Catholic, Baptist, Orthodox, Lutheran, Reformed, or Congregational, we are united as the Church of Jesus Christ. Other vines grow with us, Jewish, Muslim, Hindu, and many others; and they also need responsible care from the tenants.

We must recognize that there are rules that must be kept, laws that hold the authority of commandments, which allow us to live in peace with one another. We must also recognize the purpose of the laws, which is to set us free from slavery, to give us the freedom to live in respectful relationship with one another, with our planet, and in good relationship with God.

There are special celebrations happening around this time of year in many religions. For Protestant churches such as ours, this is World Communion Sunday. On this day Christians around the world will celebrate the Last Supper of Jesus, symbolically seeking unity with one another. Now, more than ever, it is time to seek peace with one another, peace with the earth, and peace with our Creator. May God’s vineyard bear much fruit for the Kingdom. Amen.

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[1] Exodus 6:7.

[2] Psalm 118:22.

[3] Daniel Patte, The Gospel According to Matthew: A Structural Commentary on Matthew's Faith, pp. 298-299.

[4] John 15:5.

Do Not Hold On To Me

April 12, 2020

St. John’s United Church of Christ, Union, Illinois

John 20:1-18

They were young men still, Peter and John. Though they had been following Jesus for a long time, more than two years, there was still more boyish energy in them than manly reserve. So it is not surprising to see them jump up at the words of Mary and race for the tomb. “He’s not there?” you can almost hear them saying. “This I’ve got to see!” As if in competition they race for the tomb, and the “other disciple” – presumably John – outran Peter and got there first. Peter, not one to lose a race, marches right into the tomb.

What they find there proves that Mary was right, but they’re still stumped. You can imagine them saying to one another, “Huh. I don’t get it.” Peter presumably comes to the same conclusion as Mary, that the tomb has been raided by grave robbers. John takes a second look. Maybe he notices the care with which the burial clothes have been arranged. Not robbery, but something else.

If the body was moved, to another tomb, the burial clothes would not have been left behind. And if the body had been stolen in order to be desecrated, why the care taken with the cloth that had been on Jesus’ head? John saw and believed that something bigger was happening. But it would take something more to make it sink in for them. Later that evening the Lord appeared in a locked room and they were finally able to say: “We have seen the risen Christ!”

Mary Magdalene’s experience is different. She too is confused by what she finds, but in her case she is blinded by grief. She came alone, while it was still dark, to pour out her grief before the tomb. She had been there, at the foot of the cross, watching as her Lord had died in that terrible way, and she was already deeply wounded. Imagine her pain when she sees the stone has been moved away, the body missing. She runs to find Peter and John and cries out, “They have taken the Lord.” She returns to the tomb in anguish.

When she does finally look in, hoping to find that she was wrong, that the body really was there, she instead sees the angels. The implication of their presence is lost in her grief, and in her distress she repeats what she knows, “They have taken away my Lord.” She then turns away from the tomb, away from this heavenly visitation. Nowhere else in scripture does someone brush aside an angel. But they are not what she seeks. Not even angels compare to the reality of Jesus. He is not there in the tomb, so she turns away.

Then the Lord appeared. In turning, she sees him, yet she does not know who he is. When reality is too much for us to cope with, our minds sometimes superimpose something rational, familiar. It must be the gardener. Again she turns away. Only, he calls her by name. “Mary!” And in that moment she knew: “My Teacher!” She turns around, to see the Good Shepherd who calls his own sheep by name.

We are often like Peter and John. We’re focused on the tomb and what happened to the body. We’re not content with mystery; we want the facts! And how are we supposed to explain this impossible, amazing event to anyone who doesn’t already believe? No one I know has actually seen a resurrection. But it does help me to remember that no one saw it happen on Easter morning either.

The resurrection was entirely between Jesus and God. There were no witnesses. No one can say what happened inside the tomb, because no one was there. When Mary arrived that morning, he was already gone. Peter and John saw the linen wrappings. Mary saw angels. The rest of the disciples didn’t even show up at the tomb; but that did not matter because the empty tomb was not the point.

Jesus was too busy not being dead. He had places to go and people to see. Jesus lives, and he’s not just going to hang around in the graveyard. The Lord appeared, first to Mary, and then to the disciples, and then to Thomas, who doubted. He even went down to the beach to have breakfast with the fishermen.

There in the garden, the risen Christ appeared to Mary. This was the moment when everything changed. Jesus is alive. Our Lord is the Living God. The realm of God is here, in the heart of every believer, and not even death can stop the Ruler of Heaven and Earth.

“He is risen!” proclaims Mary, and we reply “Christ is risen indeed!” This is more than an historical claim. It is a deeply personal, as well as communal, affirmation. The disciples’ experience of the risen Christ is the same presence they knew before his death. The presence of the living Christ has been experienced by Christians in all times and places. Just as Peter and John and Mary each had a different experience in the garden, so each of us experiences the risen Christ in our own lives in different ways. But the presence of Jesus in our lives is real and powerful.

Easter is about transformation. It is the transformation of death into life. It is the transformation of doubt into belief. But more than that, it is the transformation of the world, and it won’t happen without us. Encountering the risen Christ in an Easter moment is staggering. But following Jesus after that encounter means that we must be passionate about the kingdom of God.

The kingdom of God has been described as “the world the prophets dreamed of – a world of distributive justice in which everyone has enough and systems are fair.” This “is God's dream… that can only be realized by being grounded ever more deeply in the reality of God, whose heart is justice.”[1]

The kingdom of God was described by The Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. the night before he was assassinated. “The question is not, ‘If I stop to help this man in need, what will happen to me?’ ‘If I do not stop to help the sanitation workers, what will happen to them?’ That's the question.”[2] The kingdom of God is not a place, but a way of living that puts justice, peace, compassion, and love first above all things.

There in the garden, Jesus said to Mary, “Do not hold on to me.” We cannot cling to him, hoping that he will make everything okay for us. Jesus sends Mary to proclaim the good news as he ascends to God, and she turns to face the future. A future that is not bereft of the presence of Jesus, but instead a future where the Living Lord has appeared, and all of us may follow and be disciples. Amen.

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[1] Marcus Borg and John Dominic Crossan, The Last Week, 2007.

[2] Martin Luther King, Jr., Mason Temple, Memphis, TN, April 3, 1968.

Crowds of Common Folk

April 5, 2020 – Palm Sunday

St. John’s United Church of Christ, Union, Illinois

Matthew 21:1-17

The crowds went ahead of him, and the crowds followed after him. The king enters the city, “humble, and mounted on a donkey” (v. 5). Except he wasn’t the king, at least not in the way the people of that time were familiar with. Jesus enters the city with a crowd cheering him on, cutting palms and laying them on the path ahead of him – the original red-carpet treatment. But the crowd that went ahead and followed behind were not the people of the city. “When he entered Jerusalem, the whole city was in turmoil, asking, ‘Who is this?’ (v. 10). To many people he was still unknown.

Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem was meant to evoke the entry of a triumphant military ruler into that city. It was the custom for Pontius Pilate to make a similarly militaristic triumphal entry to Jerusalem — with war horse, chariot, and weapons — each year in the days before Passover to remind the pilgrims that Rome was in charge. Such a demonstration would have been especially poignant since Passover was explicitly a celebration of the liberation of the Jews from slavery in Egypt.[1]

Indeed, Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem underscores the dissonance of Pilate entering the city like a conquering king – Rome has taken the place of Egypt, and the Emperor is the new Pharaoh. When the prophet Jesus from Nazareth in Galilee enters the city, he comes surrounded not by soldiers and symbols of military might, but by common folk and humble symbols of peace, and the promise of hope for the downtrodden. Jesus carries no weapons, nor does he ride on a stallion or a chariot. He rides the most unmilitary mount imaginable: a female donkey with her little colt trotting along beside her.[2] The Prince of Peace, or the king of violence, and the hearts of the people of Jerusalem are the prize.

The people who accompany Jesus are not the powerful; they possess no formal authority to change their world, nor does their leader seek the same kind of power exercised by the religious and military rulers. Instead, they have come because they have seen and heard of a new way of life, an alternative to the oppression, exclusion, and injustice that they face every day. They have come because they have witnessed the kingdom of God in the life of Jesus. They have come not to conquer with violence, but with love.

For us, this crowd calls to mind the many stories of common folk who have recognized that we are able to accomplish more together than we can alone. We remember the women and men who provided safe passage on the Underground Railroad for slaves seeking freedom. We remember Dietrich Bonhoeffer and the Confessing Church in Germany in the 1930s, who took a definitive stance that their loyalty was to Jesus as Lord, not to Hitler and the Nazis. We remember young people in South Africa who stood against apartheid and formed the African National Congress Youth League in 1944 under the leadership of Nelson Mandela. We remember the 250,000 women, men, and children from diverse racial, ethnic, social, and religious backgrounds who gathered on the National Mall on August 28, 1963, who heard the dream of the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. and took a stand for justice and human dignity.[3] The basic hope of these crowds was the same: peace, a better world, and an alternative to the broken systems that have failed us.[4]

Today we might think of the common folk that work in healthcare, working unseen against an invisible enemy, heroically laboring together to care for people sickened by the coronavirus. We might think of the common folk who work each day at the grocery stores, ensuring that the shelves are stocked and the contact surfaces are disinfected. We might think of the common folk working alone in schools, sending online lessons and leading Zoom meetings with students to ensure their continuing education during this national emergency. And we might count ourselves in the crowds of common folk staying home, dutifully not gathering in groups, trying to prevent a too-rapid spread of COVID-19.

These crowds of common folk in our time are not gathered at the gates of the city, cheering the military parade of the conquering hero. We are too busy doing the work of God’s Kingdom, healing, helping, caring, loving, and protecting the vulnerable. We are working from home, teaching our children, calling and video-conferencing with family, friends, and co-workers.

We remember the story of common folk entering Jerusalem with Jesus, folk like you and me, so that we may find the courage to walk with Jesus in our time and proclaim a world of peace, justice, and love. We will need courage. We will need courage to follow Jesus because he will do dangerous things and upset the people in power. He will turn over the tables and drive the profiteers out of the temple.

There are money-changers in the temple in our time too. There are people who are buying and selling to make a profit off this crisis. There are those who sold their stocks while telling the rest of us that everything would be fine. There are those who raise the price of ventilators and personal protective equipment needed by hospitals because they can get more money from someone else. There are those who are looking out for their own interests first, when they should be serving the needs of the people.

It will take courage to challenge the den of robbers, especially for common folk like us. It will take courage to drive out those who are selling and buying, profiting off the misery of those suffering from this disease or trying to care for them. It will take courage to keep battling this pandemic. But we are not only common folk, we are followers of the prophet Jesus from Nazareth in Galilee.

We follow Jesus who comes in peace bringing hope for the downtrodden. We follow Jesus who turned over the tables. We follow Jesus who cured the blind and the lame. We follow Jesus who walked up Calvary to Golgotha. We follow Jesus who walked in the garden early in the morning. We may be staying at home rather than marching into the city, but we are watching what is coming down the road. We will survive this crisis and continue the work of justice, peace, and love. We shout “Hosanna!”, and when people ask us what we’re shouting about, we can tell them that we have witnessed the Kingdom of God in the life of Jesus, the one who comes in the name of the Lord. “Hosanna in the highest heaven!”

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[1] John Dominic Crossan, “Study Guide” accompanying the DVD series First Light: Jesus and the Kingdom © 2009.

[2] Ibid.

[3] Veronice Miles, “Pastoral Perspective” on Matthew 21:1-11 in Feasting on the Word: Preaching the Revised Common Lectionary, David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor general editors, Year A, Volume 2 (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2010), p. 154, 156.

[4] Carl Gregg, Lectionary Commentary: “Jesus, a Donkey, and Jon Stewart’s Rally for Sanity” (for Palm Sunday, April 17, 2011), April 8, 2011 6:02 pm, from: http://www.patheos.com/.

Saying 'No' and Saying 'Yes'

March 1, 2020

St. John’s United Church of Christ, Union, Illinois

Matthew 4:1-11

One of the first words we learn to speak as small children is “No.” It is a powerful word, giving a growing person agency, control over their life. It is also a source of considerable frustration for parents.

“Please eat your green beans.” “No!”
“It’s time to get ready for bed.” “No!”
“Did you knock over the lamp?” “No!”
“Please get off the computer” “No!”

We start out making great use of “No!” even if it doesn’t always get the result we seek. As we grow older, however, it can get harder to say “No.” We learn that we more often get what we want if we say “Yes.” People like us more when we say “Yes.” We take on more responsibility and we learn to feel guilty when we say “No,” so we say “Yes” more often.

“I know you worked all day, made dinner, and have a meeting tonight, but would you help me with my homework?” “Yes.”

“I know you’re already working on the update for the client, but would you prepare the PowerPoint for the budget meeting at 4:00?” “Yes.”

“I know you’re already singing in the choir this morning, and reading scripture, but we need someone to run teach Sunday School. Would you please do that?” “Yes.”

We become so good at saying “Yes” and so hesitant to say “No” that we are exhausted, overworked, burned-out, and spiritually depleted. God is still speaking, but how can I listen when there is already so much to do? Who really has time for prayer and reflection, let alone studying scripture? But I feel so guilty saying no to God.

Maybe what we need is to regain the ability to say “No,” not selfishly like we did as a child, not saying “No” to everything, but thoughtfully and intentionally. Perhaps I wouldn’t feel so guilty saying “No” if I’ve already committed to something else. I shouldn’t say “No” just because I don’t want to do something hard, or new, or out of my comfort zone, but I should practice saying “No” to this because I have already said “Yes” to that.

In this story from Matthew’s Gospel, the focus is usually on temptation. Jesus is tempted to use his power in selfish ways, to feed his hunger, to show off, to gain power. But we can also look at how Jesus says “No” to one thing because he has said “Yes” to another.

“If you are the Son of God, command these stones to become loaves of bread.”

“If you are the Son of God, throw yourself down” off the pinnacle of the temple.

“All these [kingdoms] I will give you, if you will fall down and worship me.”

Each time Jesus says “No” because he has already said “Yes!” to God.

“Yes, I will trust God to provide what I really need.”

“Yes, I will trust God to care for me.”

“Yes, I will serve and worship God alone.”

In Matthew’s Gospel, the conflict between the kingdom of this world and the kingdom of God is the major emphasis. The temptations that are presented to Jesus in the wilderness are about having power and authority in this world. If he uses his divine power selfishly, he can gain all that he might desire. He could rule in place of the Roman emperor, he could enforce peace and pronounce judgment from the throne, but it would be the throne of this world. Instead, Jesus stays true to the kingdom of God, to trust and serve God alone, to pray for God’s kingdom to come. In a sense, he has said “Yes” to God and stays true to that commitment.

Now, I doubt any of us will be asked to rule the kingdoms of this world, or be tempted to test God’s ability to provide for us. We will, however, be faced with choices and temptations of our own. We will have to choose how to best use our limited resources of time, money, and energy. We will have to choose when to say “No,” because we have already made other commitments. As followers of Jesus, I hope that we are able to say “Yes” to love of God, love of our neighbors, and love for ourselves before we have to say “No” to something else.

As we journey through Lent, we can practice saying “Yes” to what matters most. Jesus said “Yes” to trusting the word of God, to trusting in the care of God, and to serve and worship God alone. Perhaps we can say “Yes” to faithfulness, kindness, and generosity. Maybe we can say “Yes” to family, friends, and time alone.

Having already said “Yes” to the kingdom of God, Jesus was strengthened when he had to say “No” to the kingdom of the world. By choosing to hunger for God’s word, Jesus was able to resist filling the emptiness with anything less. By seeking to serve God with humility, Jesus was able to resist being lifted up until he was lifted up onto the cross. By accepting his role in God’s kingdom of grace and peace, Jesus was able to resist the lure of ruling through force, and rule instead through the power of love.

When we have already said “Yes” to those commitments that really matter, we will have the power to say “No” when temptation pulls at us. When we have said “Yes” to God we are able to say “No” to all that is not God. When we follow Jesus, we will be tempted to turn aside, yet we will be able to keep walking, even if it means taking up our own cross, because we are headed for the kingdom of God.  Amen.

Lambs and Wolves

July 7, 2019
St. John’s United Church of Christ, Union, Illinois

Luke 10:1-11, 16-20

In my sermon last week, I talked about people making excuses for not following Jesus. And he reminded them that this was hard work, not a fun adventure. It can be a difficult life sometimes, being a Christian. There is no simple way to be a disciple. And yet, here we have this account of Jesus sending seventy disciples out to the villages with simple instructions and a simple task.

Carry no purse or bag or even sandals. Speak peace when you enter a house. Eat what is placed before you. Invest your time and energy in one home, one family, one town. Remember that the kingdom of God comes near whether you are accepted or rejected.

It seems so easy, though it might make us feel nervous, uncomfortable, or awkward. It is a simple task, and difficult to undertake, to live simply and vulnerably. Their task is to rely on the grace and hospitality of others. “I have always depended on the kindness of strangers”, goes the line from Tennessee Williams’ A Streetcar Named Desire (1947). We abhor being vulnerable. We’re better at putting up walls and showing our toughness than we are at letting others know where it hurts, where we ache inside, what we long for. We don’t trust in the grace of strangers.

The task is to stay in one place — to encounter, to engage, and to go deep. Jesus didn’t send them home where they wouldn’t see anything new. He sent them out to new places, where they would encounter different people, people with a story that is not the same as theirs. They were sent to engage with others, to listen to what ails them and offer the living water. They were sent to go deep, like the conversation that lasts until the last candle goes out and the dawn begins to creep in. It is a rare thing for us to share time without limits with one another.

The task is to live as guests, to trust ourselves with others as if they are the people we depend on for sustenance and shelter. They come with peace and they go in love. They offer kindness, healing, and hope. And even though they go as lambs among the wolves, they never fail to point out that the kingdom of God is near.

There are plenty of wolves in our world that claw at our peace, our hope, and our trust in the goodness of God. There are many reasons to be angry, to fear, to want to defend what we have against those others who might take from us. Even so, Jesus doesn’t send us out to be wolves.

The seventy that Jesus sent, they lived in a terrible time – under the brutal oppression of a foreign power, with local government that was corrupt, food insecurity, and the fragility of life in a time when infection most often meant death. “Why send me?” they probably thought. Jesus warned them that they might face rejection, thirst, hunger, or the forces of evil. “See, I am sending you out like lambs into the midst of wolves.”

But they came back, all seventy of them, with joy. They were amazed at what they had seen and done. “Lord, in your name even the demons submit to us!” And Jesus, presumably smiling says, “I watched Satan fall from heaven like a flash of lightning.” Don’t you see? When you walk in love, and you sow peace in every field, when you allow yourselves to be vulnerable, to trust in the grace of God, evil trembles. Demons fall. The world changes. The kingdom of God comes.

There are heroes who draw their weapons and fight to the last, who stand on the ramparts to fight off the wolves. There are heroines who rush into the burning buildings, and dive into the frigid waters. There are heroes who wield the scalpel, even when the operating room is a tent in a field and the bombs are getting closer. There are heroines who walk the darkened hallways of the hospital at night. There are heroes who bring a cup of cold water, a piece of bread, a touch on the arm, the gentle stroke of a hand on your forehead as you lie in pain.

We are sent as lambs amidst the wolfishness of war, greed, drought, violence, and starvation, using hope, peace, and love as our only weapons against greed, power, ignorance, and complacency. The instructions are simple. Don’t take with you more than you need. Speak peace when you enter a house. Eat what is placed before you. Invest your time and energy wherever you are. Remember that the kingdom of God comes near whether you are accepted or rejected.

When we go about the business of God’s work, we recognize God’s presence all around us. When we are vulnerable and open, trusting in the grace of others, we find God is working alongside us. Accepting hospitality and kindness from others empowers others to do the work as well. We must not simply help others, but also allow ourselves to be helped, for we are all in this together. We can all be heroes for one another, find that others can be heroes to us, and together find that the kingdom of God has come near.  Amen.

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With thanks to Debie Thomas, “Choosing What is Easy” posted on www.journeywithjesus.net, and Suzanne Guthrie, “Sent Out in Love” posted on www.edgeofenclosure.org.