Sunday, February 28, 2010

The Text of my sermon from Sunday, February 28th, 2010

The Second Sunday in Lent; February 28, 2010
Park Avenue Presbyterian Church; Des Moines, Iowa
Texts: Genesis 15: 1-12, [13-16] 17-18
Psalm 27
Philippians 3:7 – 4:1
Luke 13: 31-35 *

“What Happens when the Fox gets into the Henhouse”

--} Do you know what happens when the fox gets into the henhouse? You can imagine—I presume—the panic that ensues. One fox, many hens, the birds all disturbed, feathers a-fly. In the confusion, the fox will quickly assess the weakest, easiest hen to snatch. But if hens have a brood of chicks, their first move is to try and gather them, then hold them under outstretched wings in a self-sacrificial act. Because they are “protective” of the brood, these hens suddenly make themselves the quickest, “easiest” grab for the fox. Their demonstrated “protectiveness” is the way they “save” the brood; because the fox snatches the protective hen, and leaves the chicks behind. The fox—not so much a fearsome predator, but “opportunistic” and wily. The kind of character Jesus faced in last week’s encounter with the “accuser”—tempting Jesus away from his protective role.

This image of Jesus similarly “brooding” over Jerusalem has a rich theological and biblical heritage. It “matches” the Spirit that “brooded” over the waters of creation. It “matches” the self-sacrificial image of Jesus who will die in the jaws of the fox in Jerusalem. It “matches” the historic promises of God to deliver God’s people, to “save them” by God’s acting on their behalf. In part, Jesus seems to be trying to teach us to trust that very promise, isn’t he?

In today’s gospel reading, some Pharisees come to Jesus saying, “Herod wants to kill you.” Jesus responds to them pointedly: “go and tell that fox for me”—as if Herod were the “fox” about to pounce. But more than just aiming an accusatory comment at Herod, I think Jesus is indicating the Pharisees themselves. The Pharisees in the Galilean countryside haven’t gotten along well with Jesus. Jesus has been proclaiming a very different reign of God that doesn’t require the posturing and position of the Pharisees who represent religious and national leadership in Jerusalem rather than “ God alone.” So with Jesus threatening their status and position, it’s not hard to understand how much these Pharisees would love to see Jesus moving his preaching and teaching elsewhere. So they bring a supposed word from Herod, “get away from here,” perhaps threatening Jesus with the same fate of that of John the Baptist.

Since many of the religious authorities in charge in Jerusalem and elsewhere bargained with the Romans—becoming “collaborators” in helping the Romans control the Jewish religious population in exchange for some power over the people—the threat might have been real. Israel’s leaders believed that their ability to hang on to their religious practices and observances—especially around the Temple—meant they were being faithful to God’s intentions in the promises to Abraham. But rather than participate in God’s promised vision for the world proclaimed by God’s prophets and Jesus, the Pharisees and their religious supervisors opportunistically abandoned trusting God alone in exchange for the “power” of the Romans backed up by its violence. So Jesus seems to call them what they are—“foxes in the henhouse.”

Here, Luke’s gospel demonstrates a Jesus sent to reclaim God’s vision for God’s special people. With ideas contrary to the establishment’s leaders, Jesus steadfastly defends God’s revelation for creation and God’s special relationship with Israel. Surprisingly, the enemy to this isn’t so much Rome as it is Israel’s own religious and political elites—who were fighting for their lives to hang on to their limited, human, power. For me, Luke’s story provides a warning to the Pharisees and Jerusalem’s religious leaders—naming their collaborative schemes of shared power with the Romans by declaring that the Pharisees have let the “fox”—that is, Herod and the Romans—into Israel’s spiritual henhouse—the religious life of the people of God. The Pharisees and religious establishment have gone from being exclusive agents for God to being agents of Rome; and when Israel can no longer live out God’s vision, worldly chaos ensues.

So Jesus comes with a prophet’s voice to once again challenge the religious establishment’s false and misplaced trust. Insisting on continuing his mission, Jesus lifts up the long line of prophetic voices who historically sought to return Israel to its special relationship with God. Israel—called to be a community that trusts ultimately and only in God—having been claimed, marked, and sustained by God’s love and goodness. Israel—called to be a community that God would continue to lead in and out of wilderness troubles and times of exile. Israel—called to be a community that God resides with and among; but not in a building, but within the people, internally in people’s hearts and actions.

Listen again to verse 33 where Jesus declares,
“…I must be on my way, because it is impossible for a prophet to be killed outside of Jerusalem.”
The prophetic witness in scripture is that time and again prophets were sent by God to proclaim God’s word of return and blessing, that God wanted to guide, nurture, love, and sustain God’s special people. But usually, to no avail. Many a prophet ascended to Jerusalem to collaborate with kings and priests only to be turned away. Luke’s Jesus seems intentional about joining that long line of prophetic voices, ascending to national and religious leaders appealing for a return to the ways of God.

Jesus offers us words and imagery that seem to come directly from the voice of Almighty God—like so many prophets before him:
“Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to it! How often have I desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing!”
“You were not willing”—a reminder that time and again, God’s special people rejected God’s leadership. A pointed remark to the “collaborators” who had given over God’s authority for human authority; given over faithfulness to God for faith-less-ness with the Romans; giving away God’s eternal promises to provide and sustain God’s people on God’s own terms.

So commentator Daniel Deffenbaugh observes that this long line of prophets, including Jeremiah, Isaiah, and now Jesus, offered Israel grand new visions.
“In the days to come, the mountain of the Lord’s house shall be established as the highest of mountains…; all the nations shall stream to it.” In this time of peace, swords are to be beaten into plowshares and spears into pruning hooks—images that remind us of God’s original call to Adam as steward of creation.
But Deffenbaugh points out that “this prophecy could never come to pass as long as the faith of Israel remained tied exclusively to the primacy of the temple” and not to God alone. Instead, as the prophets often declared, God would have to do a “new thing.”

Rather than participate in God’s vision and its powerful hope, Israel’s religious establishment consorted with the Romans and propped themselves up with the human powers of violence and domination—hoping God might still be happy. But Jesus calls them “foxes” and still intends to “save” God’s people from the foxes in the henhouse—ultimately trading his life for the life of the world.

By not bowing to the treat and continuing his mission, Jesus explodes God’s power to do a “new thing” amongst God’s people—delivering them once again from the strain of oppressive, worldly leaders. And by the time Luke is writing his gospel, the Temple in Jerusalem is about to be, or already has been destroyed by the Romans; and Israel’s religious infrastructure that had collaborated with the Romans, keeping God’s people from the relationship God intended, was vanishing. Do we dare say the witness of the early Church in the prophetic voice of Luke and others, continues the “saving deliverance” God in Jesus intended?

If so, shouldn’t our question be what’s the fox in our religious henhouse?

Amidst our Lenten Season, our congregation faces any number of challenges. We might have several foxes to deal with! Financial foxes. Membership concern foxes. Older building issue foxes. All added to the customary “foxes” in our culture, issues facing our city, fears around the world. What are the things that keep us from our right-relationship with God? What “foxes” have gotten in to cause “panic” or threaten us? What keeps us from trusting in God more than bread, worshipping God alone, and never putting God to the test?

But hear this.
  • Last week we began the season of Lent with the image of God being poured out for us. Poured out… in the waters of baptism, the cup of the Lord’s Supper; God “filling us up.” But not just filling us to the brim, God’s goodness poured out so that as the Psalmist declares, “our cup of God’s goodness runs over,” …and over and over and over. So that we are “filled” by God, but “overflowing”—enough for us and others!
  • “Baptism” is our “mark” of God’s claim on our lives making us God’s own “special” people—the sign, seal, and covenant reminder of God’s special relationship with us. This “mark” of God’s relationship goes all the way back to Jesus and his baptism; back beyond Jesus, to a time of Israel’s prophets and kings, even further to the wandering of God’s people in the wilderness, back all the way to Sinai and the commandments, the Exodus deliverance from hardship and slavery—all the way back to Abraham himself. Another name for baptism is “sign of the covenant.”
  • And in last week’s gospel lesson from Luke, we heard Jesus proclaim the terms of covenant life: “one does not live by bread alone;” “worship the Lord your God and serve only him;” and “do not put the Lord your God to the test;”—all tried and true images of God’s intention to “save” and “deliver” God’s special people—like a hen protecting her brood of chicks.
So that when we look to Jesus to attack the “fox,” we mustn’t be surprised that he will not. And when we ask Jesus to “deliver” us, we shouldn’t be amazed at “how” he does. But when Jesus looks at us, will he see those who “trust God” and God’s power and God’s ways—rather than those who trust in human power and human ways? Or has the “fox” gotten in our henhouse, again?

--+ AMEN. 

Link to the audio file for my sermon from February 28th

Here's the link to the audio file for my sermon from Sunday, February 28th, 2010.  This was the Second Sunday in the Season of Lent. 

http://www.box.net/shared/4yydrrxe0e

As always, thanks for checking it out! 

Monday, February 22, 2010

At last, no text of my sermon from Sunday, February 21st

Sunday was one of those special, unplanned moments.  The sermon was not finished by Saturday evening--as usual.  So starting with a series of notes on paper and a couple of stories, I re-crafted the sermon almost literally during the first hymn. 

So, while I could have worked all day trying to reconstruct a manuscript from the audio recording, I decided I'd just let the audio speak for itself.  So, you can check out my sermon by listening this week.  Please scroll down to the link below. 

Sunday, February 21, 2010

Link to the audio file for my sermon from February 21st

Today is the First Sunday in the Season of Lent.  This morning's sermon begins with some of my experiences celebrating Lent in my growing up years, but focuses not on our giving up or going without this season, but of being filled by God's love and claim of us. 

During the sermon I move from the pulpit (where there's good audio recording) to the baptismal font for a visual example (where there's not so good audio).  You may have to adjust the volume accordingly during this time, or you may not be able to hear clearly while I'm away from the pulpit.  Since we're also focusing on the sacrament of baptism this Lenten season, this example seemed most appropriate as we begin our lenten journey. 

You can download the audio file here:  http://www.box.net/shared/v4821en15n

As always, thanks for checking it out.  If you have trouble hearing the audio file, it works best with Windows Media Player as a .wav file. 

Sunday, February 14, 2010

The Text of my sermon from Sunday, February 14th, 2010

The Transfiguration of the Lord; February 14, 2010
Park Avenue Presbyterian Church; Des Moines, Iowa
Texts: Exodus 34: 29-35
Psalm 99
2 Corinthians 3:12-4:2
Luke 9: 28-36 (37-43) *


“Jesus: Transfigured…for us”

--} “Transfiguration Sunday” is probably not one of the better-known liturgical holidays. Despite our celebrating it every year, I’m guessing it doesn’t have deep-rooted meaning—let’s face it, it isn’t Christmas! Like Easter, it’s “date” on the calendar moves around; and while Jesus takes three disciples up on the mountain and appears “transfigured” there, Luke’s story demonstrates little that changes—either for Jesus or the disciples. Jesus will come back down the mountain to resume his ministry—as if nothing happened. And the disciples, well not only did they not catch on, they still act rather clueless. What gives?

So really, how can WE who sit here centuries later, WE who hear the story in the 3rd person, really understand that something really awesome happens in today’s gospel lesson? I think like the disciples, we don’t quite seem to get it, much less feel any real change. So what does it mean for us to say, Jesus was transfigured?

The story of Jesus’ mountaintop “transfiguration” in the gospels of Matthew, Mark, and Luke appears at a critical point in each gospel’s story. Jesus is moving between his “ministry phase” and his journey to Jerusalem where he will suffer and die. Today’s gospel reading is sandwiched between 2 moments where Jesus is foretelling his death and resurrection. So that his “transfiguration” stands at the “transition” between Jesus revealed as preacher, teacher, miracle worker, and Leader; and Jesus—the one who endures temptation, is challenged, brings challenge to the status-quo, but ultimately walks for us the way of suffering servant, beckoning us to follow him. God’s voice issuing forth from that cloud is striking, especially since Jesus has just indicated to us his fate. “Listen to him,” takes on a new meaning in this context, doesn’t it? And what should that mean for us?

In today’s gospel story, Jesus is transfigured—but the disciples are not. In the story, the nature of Jesus’ transfiguration is his appearance—his face shines and his clothes are suddenly dazzling white. {Feel free to imagine your own special effects here!} The $64 question is really, what does Jesus’ “transfiguration” look like to all of us? {No special effects; what should Jesus’ transfiguration really “look like” for you and me?}

Though the story would tell us it’s all about a shining face and dazzling clothes, when the gospel teaches us that Jesus is “transfigured,” isn’t it meant to reveal him to us in a whole new way? The disciples hardly seem to notice, though; and even we who know the “rest of the story,” are tempted to see this as only a foreshadowing of what we “think” Jesus’ resurrection appearances will “look like.” But Jesus’ transfiguration should mark a change that is both real and palpable—beyond just his appearance.

For me, Jesus being “transfigured” moves beyond Peter, James, and John seeing Jesus “changed.” For you and I, rather than just being about an event centuries ago, “transfiguration” should point us to the ways we see and know Jesus being among us. And I believe there are two places where we see a transfigured Jesus today. We see a transfigured Jesus in the bread and cup of the Lord’s Supper; and we see a transfigured Jesus in the waters of baptism. And I’m not just talking about the elements themselves, but the promise that Jesus is both revealed and present in our celebrations of the Kingdom.

Both places, Jesus becomes God’s forgiveness, poured out, poured over us, and poured into us. Both places we see Jesus revealed to us, not as flesh and blood—human forms—but as spiritual forms. This “transfiguration” means that we have two tangible places to see and experience the living Christ—with both font and table becoming the locations of OUR mountaintop experiences. And if we learn to thrive on such associations, I believe we can be transfigured ourselves!

The Lord’s Supper is Jesus “transfigured” for us. He no longer remains just a character in the Bible, he is made visible and touchable—for us. The Lord’s Supper is our participation with Jesus—not because the elements of bread and cup actually BECOME the essence or nature of Jesus’ flesh and blood, but because we are together with Christ and are in touch with his ministry.

That Jesus takes the elements of bread and cup from a celebratory meal should push us to remember the nature of our celebration should be one of joy and festivity. That Jesus gives us “eating and drinking” to remember him, should point us not just to the feast we celebrate “at church” but to the feasts we celebrate in the world. That Jesus invites us “remember him” as we share food and drink should serve as invitation to “remember” every time we eat and drink. What might happen to us if every time we eat or drink, we are inviting ourselves to be in the presence of Christ and his ministry?

What happens when “food”—basic daily sustenance—can be the reminder of Christ’s indwelling with us? When “food and drink” can be our calling to service and mission? When “daily bread” is the indicator of God’s blessing? Can mealtime be “transfigured” from simply consuming to being the reminder of God’s constancy in our lives?

When someone asks, where can you “see” Jesus?, should we not be saying, “In the FEASTING of the Kingdom of God?

The other place where we “see” Jesus transfigured is in baptism. Often, when we hear people declare that Jesus dies for our sins, they are speaking of redemption; but forgiveness, freedom, new life, and resurrection are all baptism themes, too. When we pour the water, it’s a sign for us of God’s claim on our lives—no matter who we are or what we’ve done! Baptism is the sign of our being included in God’s goodness. It’s is God’s promise that we belong to God now and forever.

We forget—all water is a reminder of our baptism. Whether it’s a cool drink accompanying our meal, or the dishwater for cleaning up afterwards; a running stream, a running faucet, a shower, a summer thunderstorm. And perhaps, if we recognize that “SNOW” is simply frozen water, might we conclude that God wants to include us so much in being reminded of our baptism, that God has let it snow and snow and snow and snow! So that now, our world has been “transfigured” by the piles and mounds of white—water!

Water signifies a cleansing, renewal, and new life—as does baptism. House plants grow when they are watered; the lawn thrives after a spring rain; rivers flow with force and power to reshape the landscape. “Water” is all around us, and how seldom are we reminded that we have passed through the waters WITH CHRIST? Water is all over us, and how seldom do we see it as the reminder that our lives are being changed by our being buried in the waters with Jesus? Water is everywhere in our midst—in our daily living—and yet how seldom do we experience it as the source of our own transfiguration?

So what does it mean for us to believe and say that Jesus was transfigured? As followers of Christ, we believe that our lives are changed by his—that our very selves are “transfigured”—not because our faces suddenly glow or our clothes are dazzling, like his, but because in our lives we not only learn to emulate his, we are being made to live according to the Kingdom’s ways.

As followers of Christ, we believe Jesus beckons us to endure temptation, proclaim the gospel, teach, lead, challenge the status quo, even to walk the way of self-sacrifice—as he does. As followers of Christ, we not only find Jesus’ way intriguing, we seek to live it! As followers of Christ, while we hope that our end isn’t in crucifixion and death—how significant is that voice of God in the cloud, reminding us again, “this is my son, my Chosen, listen to him.”

So, at this crossroads between his ministry and his mission, Jesus is transfigured for us. On the mountain, Peter, James, and John see Jesus’ face and clothes changed. But in Des Moines, at Park Avenue, what do we “see”? Now think of the water and bread and wine being the signs of God’s promises for Jesus and for us!

Remember, too, that what happens AFTER the transfiguration is just as important as the transfiguration itself. It seems to me that while Peter and the other disciples would have been content staying on the mountain, the course of the journey takes them down the mountain back into the valleys of need. The next day, having come down from the mountain, Jesus and the disciples are confronted by a man who’s boy was convulsed by a spirit. As Luke tells the story, the disciples were unable to cast the demon out, and the man has sought Jesus. Jesus rebukes the unclean spirit, heals the boy and returns him to his father. Doing so, he continues to point to a different way of being-ness, again inviting us to see his historical-ministry not as the end-all, be-all, but the model—not only for our faith, but also our service, mission, and living.

Last week our gospel lesson ended with disciples “leaving everything” and “following Jesus.” Discipleship doesn’t require our faces shining and our clothes dazzling; but a transfiguration that invites us to “follow.” “Following Jesus” is—after all—all that the disciples do. “Following Jesus” truly offers a different possibility. To “follow Jesus” in today’s story is to be with him on the mountaintop, but to return from the mountain, entering or re-entering ministry and mission. Any takers?

Are we willing to listen to Jesus, to follow as he shows us—even his suffering and death? Are we ready for a new way of life—one that defies our own sensibilities? Are we willing, not just to be with Jesus, but to follow; not just to follow, but to be transfigured?

Because if we dare to “come along,” we’re bound to meet Jesus in water, bread, and cup. If we dare to “follow,” we’ll be invited more and more to look like Jesus. If we look more like Jesus, won’t we be transfigured?


--+ AMEN.

Link to the audio file for my sermon from February 14th

Here's the link to the audio file for my sermon from Sunday, February 14th, 2010--Transfiguration of the Lord Sunday:

http://www.box.net/shared/s1lyv7dqgm

As always, the sermon was recorded during morning worship at Park Avenue Presbyterian Church. 

Thanks for checking it out. 

Sunday, February 7, 2010

The Text of my sermon from Sunday, Febuary 7th

The Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time; February 07, 2010
Park Avenue Presbyterian Church; Des Moines, Iowa
Texts: Isaiah 6: 1-8 (9-13)
Psalm 138
1 Corinthians 15: 1-11
Luke 5: 1-11 *


“Jesus: Revealing Made Disciples”

--} The truth is there’s a lot about today’s gospel lesson that “doesn’t sound right to us” if we hear it the way Luke may have intended for readers to encounter it. On first glance, too many people believe this passage is about the “call of the first disciples,” It doesn’t help that in our pew bibles, right before Luke 5 verse 1 the heading says, “Jesus calls the first disciples.” But Jesus doesn’t call any one in this passage. He doesn’t pick up the phone, he doesn’t invite, suggest, cajole, encourage, or sweet-talk anybody to be a disciple. Quite the opposite, I’d say! And if you look at the red-letter edition Jesus only speaks two lines: “put out into the deep water and let your nets down for a catch;” and “Do not be afraid; from now on you will be catching people.” That’s it. No “call”—only “commands.” A better title would be, “Jesus COMMANDS the first disciples,” and we might even want to add to that, “Jesus commands the first disciples, TO DO SOME MIGHTY STRANGE THINGS.”

Too many people think that going out to the deep water is a challenge of “risk”—as if the more ventured, the more gained. But while fishing methods may have changed since the first century, it’s still the practice that fishermen use the shore as a kind of natural barrier to hold the fish against and get them into the nets. So you want to be a little ways out, but by no means out in the deep. In deep water, there’s more water and less fish, and no good way to keep them in the nets! So when Jesus says to Simon, “put out into the deep water and let your nets down for a catch,” Simon’s got to think he’s nuts!

And that’s a good thing, because as we mighty rightly surmise, “this is no ordinary person giving orders. This time we’re right; Jesus is well known along the shore of Galilee—because of the reports that spread about him. Then they heard Jesus first hand, teaching in the synagogue; witnessed Jesus casting out demons and healing people—like Simon’s mother-in-law who was ill. And what Jesus orders Simon to do isn’t “ordinary”—but we gauge that by Simon Peter’s reaction AFTER the catch of fish, when he fall sown confessing his sinfulness.

Apparently, it’s only Jesus and Simon in the boat; they go out to the deep water and Simon lets down the nets—but only because Jesus says so. That’s the measure of Jesus’ credibility. But then, the fish are so big or so many that the “catch” begins breaking the nets. A second boat is called for, but filling both boats, the boats themselves begin to break and sink. Now that’s some haul of fish! “How” it happens is hardly the point; because Simon—rather than hanging on to Jesus as the source of the great “catch,” asks Jesus to “go away from him.”

Now it could be because Jesus singlehandedly has just about broken the fishing nets and two boats [that is bad for business you know]; but I suspect that Simon begins to catch on at this point that something else is afoot. What I believe has happened is that Jesus has revealed himself to Simon; and much like Isaiah in the Temple, Simon doesn’t quite know what to do. It’s hard to wrap your mind around meeting God face to face, right?

So this isn’t a story about HOW disciples are made; this is a story so that DISCIPLESHIP can be revealed. Does that sound strange? It’s not what we’ve been taught to expect at any rate. It may sound strange, but look at what happens. Jesus makes Simon Peter take his boat out to deep water, but when the huge catch comes in, Jesus not only has to say, “Don’t be afraid,” the end result is that huge catch of fish going to waste! Verse eleven is explicit: “When they had brought their boats to shore, they left everything and followed him.” So one of two things happen. Either they release the catch of fish so the boats don’t sink and the nets don’t break; OR, they manage to get the catch to shore at which point they “leave everything and followed Jesus.” It’s the equivalent of having the winning lottery ticket in your hand but never getting to cash it in!

I offer this reading of the story—against the conventional wisdom—for a couple of reasons. First, the point doesn’t seem to be the catch of fish. The “catch” becomes the reason for “leaving” and “following” Jesus. It’s almost intentional that the “catch” be left behind because of the urgency of the next thing—that is, “catching people.” And second, there’s a contrast here that we almost always MISS, or MISUNDERSTAND. Think about how fish are caught and what we do with them. Nearly every day, Simon and his partners would take their day’s catch of fish to the market, lay them out—eyes a-glazed—and sell them for money. “Caught fish” soon wind up dead, right? But Luke cleverly changes this metaphor with a change of language.

The word Luke uses in verse 10, when Jesus tells Simon he “will be catching people” actually means “to take alive”—or “to rescue.” It is not a word that is used in relationship to capturing or harvesting animals; in fact it is an INAPPROPRIATE term to be applied to hunting or fishing. The verb means literally, “to rescue from the peril of death.” So if we take Luke’s words at face value, they mean something quite different than the way we’ve been taught to hear them. Luke is saying something like, “Do not be afraid; from now on you will be CATCHING men and women alive”—implying a kind of making or keeping them alive before it’s too late! The opposite really of fishing. Extrapolating the meaning a bit, the contrast between Simon’s “catch” and Simon’s “catching” is what commentator Peter Eaton describes as “the kingdom of God [requiring] not dead fish but human beings FULLY ALIVE—not creatures writhing in the last gasps before death, but people living the life of the good news in all its fullness!

Seriously—isn’t this a better reason why Simon Peter and his partners might “leave everything” to go with Jesus? Because it’s not about the fortune, it’s about being fully alive? Isn’t that why “heaven” becomes such an important place for us—because we want to be “fully alive!” Suddenly what LUKE has to say to us is starting to sound more right—isn’t it?

So if this is what Luke is saying our common reading of this passage has to change. First, isn’t not really about the catch of fish, it’s about catching people alive—saving them before it’s too late. Think Simon’s mother-in-law who was ill when Jesus was introduced to her; how she got up from her death-bed and began serving again. If the force is not about what happens in the boat, but what Simon Peter is going to be doing—“catching people alive,” then this is a story not about “calling disciples” but revealing a new life for disciples. Jesus isn’t commoditizing discipleship; in other words, it isn’t about how many or how much; instead, Jesus is revealing the character or nature of discipleship. Jesus isn’t offering the job, he’s still holding out the job description—much like he was doing at Nazareth, reminding the Nazareans it wasn’t about getting miracles or having benefits as much as it was fulfilling the word of the prophets.

A DISCIPLESHIP job description might look like this:

• Can you be obedient—even when what you’re asked to do wouldn’t seem to be the best practical or worldly advice?


o Like putting down your nets in deep water;


o Or leaving behind a huge catch of fish.


• Can you focus not on the number of fish you can catch, but instead of catching people and saving them before it’s too late?


o Like Jesus will abandon the 99 sheep to find the one lost;


o Being disciplined enough to focus on rescuing the few who need saving RIGHT NOW, rather than trying to get the many.


• Can you trust yourself to a different way of doing business, giving more and taking less?


o Taking time to walk with people and discover their needs, like Jesus with the crowds;


o And BE INTENTIONAL about meeting those needs, NOW—for the poor, the captive, the blind, the lame, freedom for the oppressed and declaring the year of the Lord’s favor?


Even if your answer to all of these questions is an emphatic, “YES,” at the end of today’s reading no job offer has yet been extended. That the disciples follow—leaving everything—is good news. It’s liberating news for them and us! But it’s not yet the offer we might think it is.

Eventually Luke tells us that Jesus chooses the twelve. Perhaps not as much an “invitation,” but Jesus affirming that human beings can demonstrate the principles of the Kingdom of God being lived out. Not just a “calling,” Jesus offers transformation—not as a huge catch of fish—but as the means for “catching” the world. Because if we as human beings are willing to live out the kingdom’s values—that is, the words of the prophets—through US, Jesus can reveal himself. Through our actions and deeds, our lifestyle of ministry, people don’t have to be “caught out,” but rather can be “save alive.” Because those who are “saved alive” can be transformed to be disciples—and they don’t have to be left behind.

--+ AMEN.


INVITATION:

If you need a place to belong, if you are hungry for God and eager to follow Jesus, join us in this ministry. You are welcome here; you are needed here.

Link to the audio file for my sermon from February 7th

Here's the link to the audio file for my sermon recorded on Sunday, February 7th, 2010:

http://www.box.net/shared/top5s7zpp2

Thanks for checking it out! 

Monday, February 1, 2010

The Text of my sermon from Sunday, January 31st

The Fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time; January 31, 2010
Park Avenue Presbyterian Church; Des Moines, Iowa
Texts: Jeremiah 1: 4-10
Psalm 71: 1-6
1 Corinthians 13: 1-13
Luke 4: 14-30

“Jesus: Enfleshment of the Gauntlet Thrown Down”

--} Last Sunday, our gospel began with this infamous interchange for Jesus, believers and followers—with Jesus reading from the Prophet Isaiah:

“The Spirit of the Lord is upon me,
because he has anointed me
to bring good news to the poor.
He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives
and recovery of sight to the blind,
to let the oppressed go free,
to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.”

And at first blush, it’s often easy to think Jesus’ prophetic announcement being fairly straight forward. That Jesus might have been saying something like: “there’s help for those who have no hope—even where there are economic discrepancies; where people are held captive or imprisoned, there’s freedom; when people are “blind” to the possibilities of safe-keeping and loving-kindness, the Kingdom of God takes up for them.

But I said that we should believe that wasn’t what Jesus was saying at all; instead, Jesus was saying that as he had been anointed, believers—TOO—were anointed by the same good news, and that further, the Church was called to offer: good news to the poor; release to the captives; recovery of sight for the blind, to let the oppressed go free, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor. Not that the Church might receive these things for its own benefit, but that the Church is called to take in and then share—to “hand-out” if you will God’s promises. And thereby, it seemed what Jesus was intending to do was to challenge the values of our own success—the same challenges, it would seem Jesus intended for the Nazareans.

But, according to Luke, the Nazareans didn’t hear Jesus’ challenge. Luke’s story proclaims Jesus quoting several would-be difficult passages from the prophet Isaiah, yet the response of Jesus’ “hearers” is simply that “all spoke well of him and were amazed at the gracious words that came from his mouth.” They said—as if proudly and expectantly—“Is not this Joseph’s son?” And the expectation seemed to be that Jesus should have good things to share with the people of Nazareth, too. So Jesus must try and “redirect” their expectations.

Not ever one to walk into a room to try to make people angry, it surprises us when in exchange for kind words, Jesus offers incendiary and hurtful remarks, all but spitting venom in the faces of his listeners. So what if Jesus were trying to “redirect” people’s expectations.

  • “Doubtless you will quote to me this proverb, ‘Doctor, cure yourself!’ And you will say, ‘Do here also in your hometown the things that we have heard you did at Capernaum.’ Truly I tell you, no prophet is accepted in the prophet’s hometown.” [Meaning: they don’t get the same healings and teachings.]

  • “But the truth is, there were many widows in Israel in the time of Elijah, when the heaven was shut up three years and six months, and there was a severe famine over all the land; yet Elijah was sent to none of them except to a widow at Zarephath in Sidon. [Meaning: Non-Israelites are in fact, closer to God’s blessed providing.]

  • There were also many lepers in Israel in the time of the prophet Elisha, and none of them was cleansed except Naaman the Syrian.” [Meaning: Bitter enemies get better treatment than you will.]

But before we label Jesus for some kind of mean-spiritedness, what if Jesus is envisioning that a different “response” to the prophetic words is necessary? In the face of the people speaking well of him, Jesus offers a pointed interpretation that turns the story away from the “good news” to the necessity of believer’s responses. What Jesus seems to be looking for is a response from hearers and believers like, “Oh shucks! We’ve got a lot of work to do!”

If we had been Israelites in Nazareth in the first century, one of the expectations of being “faithful” to God’s covenantal promises was that God would respond with blessings—“be faithful, and God will bless you.” Remember, God’s promise to Abraham was that Abraham’s descendants were to be blessed, and “by them all the nations of the world.” The Jewish tradition held that God’s blessing is bestowed on the Israelites because they are a faithful and holy people; and in as much as other nations ascribe to Israel’s preeminence, they would be blessed as well.

But by citing examples where non-Israelites were “blessed” rather than the Israelites Jesus was suggesting that this “tradition” of Israel’s preeminence wasn’t really how God works. And telling the Nazareans they weren’t on the top of the list of those to be blessed, Jesus not only appears to be turning God’s promises sideways, it’s a good reason why they would have responded by taking him to the brow of the hill to throw him down from it! Instead of Israel’s primacy or superiority Jesus’ examples point to a different understanding of God’s “blessing”—one that requires “serving.”

What is striking is that the pathway Jesus is suggesting is not one of exaltation, but one of service and suffering. It’s not the road of privilege; rather, it’s the pathway of “calling” and “anointing.” Again, it’s not a promise that Israel is to “receive” all the blessings, but is in fact the one that must also bestow blessings. The people of Nazareth don’t just get what the Capernaum-ites got; instead, their “blessing” is in their serving—not just the poor, the lame, the oppressed, the outcast; but the enemy, the outsider, the stranger. It means Jesus is pointing not just toward being “blessed,” but the responsiveness of “serving” as a “blessing” for others. To demonstrate for the world what it means to live out the precepts of the Kingdom of God.

Elias Chacour writes about God’s expectations of the descendants of Abraham being “caretakers” dwelling in His land. He turns to the Old Testament prophets for the answer that:

“God had a special calling for his “caretaker people”—that God demanded that they demonstrate God’s own character to the whole world, that they show forth the face of God in every action from the way they conducted their government down to the use of fair weights and measures in the marketplace. Often they failed miserably and, under God’s judgment, they were broken apart by foreign powers such as the Babylonians.”

And yet, God would still rescue the people every time—acting in faithfulness to God’s own promises to the Jews. This was a reflection of God’s own eternally faithful nature, not a reward for human goodness.

So that living “faithfully” in covenant relationship with God is about demonstrating God’s faithfulness—not our own. It means for us to have to “demonstrate” for the world what it means to live Kingdom lives—“serving” one another and those around us. Salvation results not because of “good works” or our “faithfulness,” but because of God’s “choosing us” as God’s own. Salvation happens because God is faithful even when we are not. And we’ve been “chosen” not so that we can be the receivers of the good things in life because we live “faithfully,” but we have been chosen for a special form of “serving” by which God can demonstrate to the world God’s own holiness, generosity, and faithfulness.

Jesus reminds us that one mistake believers can make is thinking that God’s “anointing” means we are suddenly deserving or exalted. Being “anointed” doesn’t mean an immediate elevation to a life of privilege; the Lord’s anointed might be one specially “chosen,” one whom God loves, but it does not mean some privileged status. Instead, the task of the chosen and anointed is “service;” and the model Jesus particularly proclaims is one that includes “suffering service.” No life of riches, fame, and glory; but instead, serving others!

No wonder the Nazareans are offended! Jesus says, “You don’t get healed; you don’t get fed;” instead, you are called to be healers and feeders of the very people you would rather not! What Jesus seems to be saying to believers is that the community of the faithful—the Church—is “called” and “anointed” as God’s people who are, in fact, the very examples of God redemptive generosity. That God would use US as the means by which other people are brought into the fold of faith! We are “called” and “anointed” as examples of the redeemed people of God who are invited to share that redemption with the world.

So why would we not dare to see our lives differently as a result?

What if, instead of ordaining folks to balance the Church budget, we sought to ordain people to be leaders in ministry? What if, instead of just inviting people to give a few dollars toward a special cause, we sent people to make a difference—handing out food, building new homes. What if, instead of just expecting members to come to worship, we expected them to share worship experiences with others. What if, rather than expecting gifts to be shared with us—what if we saw ourselves as anointed, too?

What if we saw ourselves as “anointed,” too? And rather than being the “receivers” of the blessings of richness, what if we could be the providers of God’s kingdom promises? Because Jesus says, “today, this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.”

Jesus throws the gauntlet down—inviting us to consider what it means to be people “anointed” and “called to serve.” Not people who gain “blessings” for our faithfulness, but people who gain the mantle of the prophet’s voice. That we too, as individual believers and as the Church of Jesus Christ might proclaim:

“The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor.  He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.” 



Because Jesus says, “today, this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.”


 --+ AMEN.