If you'd like to hear my sermon from Sunday, December 26th, 2010--the First Sunday after Christmas, you can click on the link below to download the file.
http://www.box.net/shared/x2bbgfoqg8
Sunday, December 26, 2010
Audio Link for my Sermon from Christmas Eve--December 24th
If you'd like to listen to my sermon from Christmas Eve Service at the Presbyterian Church of Llanerch in Havertown, PA, click on the link below to download the file.
http://www.box.net/shared/2qvflf5cle
http://www.box.net/shared/2qvflf5cle
Sunday, December 12, 2010
Link to the audio file for my sermon from December 12th, 2010
If you'd like to listen to my sermon from Sunday, December 12th, 2010, click on the link below to download the file and listen:
http://www.box.net/shared/0fgxd1fh6t
This was my third Sunday in a new call, at The Presbyterian Church of Llanerch in Havertown, Pennsylvania--a suburb of Philadelphia.
http://www.box.net/shared/0fgxd1fh6t
This was my third Sunday in a new call, at The Presbyterian Church of Llanerch in Havertown, Pennsylvania--a suburb of Philadelphia.
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
Link to the Audio File for my Sermon from November 14th
If you'd like to listen to my sermon from Sunday, November 14th, 2010 at Park Avenue Presbyterian Church, you can click on the link below to download:
http://www.box.net/shared/3iouog2i39
This was my last sermon at Park Avenue as pastor.
http://www.box.net/shared/3iouog2i39
This was my last sermon at Park Avenue as pastor.
Sunday, November 7, 2010
Link to the audio file for my sermon from Sunday, November 7th.
If you'd like to listen to my sermon from Sunday, November 7th, you may click on the link below to download the file.
http://www.box.net/shared/qh73h92h0g
Some weeks ago, I announced to the congregation at Park Avenue Presbyterian Church that I would be leaving. Next Sunday will be my last Sunday preaching at Park Avenue Presbyterian Church in Des Moines, and will begin a new call at the Presbyterian Church of Llanerch in Havertown, Pennsylvania. It's not been decided if I will continue to post audio links of my sermons.
http://www.box.net/shared/qh73h92h0g
Some weeks ago, I announced to the congregation at Park Avenue Presbyterian Church that I would be leaving. Next Sunday will be my last Sunday preaching at Park Avenue Presbyterian Church in Des Moines, and will begin a new call at the Presbyterian Church of Llanerch in Havertown, Pennsylvania. It's not been decided if I will continue to post audio links of my sermons.
Monday, November 1, 2010
Link to the audio file for my sermon from Sunday, october 31st, 2010
If you'd like to listen to my sermon from Sunday, October 31st, 2010, click on the link below to download the audio file.
http://www.box.net/shared/hsbi8mfxh0
http://www.box.net/shared/hsbi8mfxh0
Sunday, October 17, 2010
Link to the audio file for my sermon from Sunday, October 17th, 2010
If you'd like to listen to a recording of my sermon from Sunday, October 17th, 2010, click on the following link to download the audio file:
http://www.box.net/shared/jup1qlszk6
If you'd like a copy of the manuscript, please contact me. I'm happy to provide manuscripts for those who ask.
http://www.box.net/shared/jup1qlszk6
If you'd like a copy of the manuscript, please contact me. I'm happy to provide manuscripts for those who ask.
Sunday, October 10, 2010
Link to the audio file for my sermon from October 10th, 2010
If you'd like to listen to the recording of my sermon, "Thanks for Nothing!" from Sunday, October 10th, 2010 at Park Avenue Presbyterian Church, you can click on the following link and download the file.
http://www.box.net/shared/rzshopxdos
If you'd like a copy of the manuscript I used to preach from, please contact me. I'm happy to provide manuscripts for those who ask.
http://www.box.net/shared/rzshopxdos
If you'd like a copy of the manuscript I used to preach from, please contact me. I'm happy to provide manuscripts for those who ask.
Sunday, October 3, 2010
Audio Link and Sermon Manuscript for World Communion Sunday, October 3rd, 2010
If you'd like to listen to my sermon from World Communion Sunday, October 3rd, 2010, please click on the link below to download the audio file:
http://www.box.net/shared/7xb0htfu0q
The semon manuscript I used to preach from is included below:
The Twenty-Seventh Sunday of Ordinary Time & World Communion Sunday; October 03, 2010
Park Avenue Presbyterian Church; Des Moines, Iowa
Texts: Lamentations 1: 1-6
Lamentations 3: 19-26 or Psalm 137
2 Timothy 1: 1-14
Luke 17: 5-10 *
--} Today is World Communion Sunday—celebrated by many Christians the world over. So think if you will, that our celebration of the Lord’s Supper serves as the great opposition for all that’s wrong in the world. Hunger. Warfare. Political advertising. Disasters. Consider the table as a place of uniting, a sacrament that puts US together with CHRIST for the sake of all that is good and right for the world. For me it’s sort of like the Psalmist’s promise in the 23rd Psalm—“thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies.” When we gather at table as believers… we gather being observed by the world. At least part of what we hope the world observes is God’s gracious care of us.
I think in a similar way Jesus in Luke’s gospel lesson offers us different orientation.
More often than not, we presume that the apostles in today’s reading are being greedy, saying to Jesus, “increase our faith.” Jesus’ response seems a quick punch—“If you had faith the size of a mustard seed, you could say to this mulberry tree, ‘Be uprooted and planted in the sea,’ and it would obey you.” And before we ask ourselves about the power to uproot trees and plant them in the sea, perhaps we need to remember that no matter faith’s relative size to the mustard seed, planting a tree in the sea in any case seems like a pretty dumb idea. Jesus seems not to mince words; when they ask, “give us more,” he says quickly the equivalent of, “that’s dumb.”
But Luke takes the opportunity to connect verses 6 and 7 grammatically. Where often in a plain English reading, we’d be tempted to say that verses 5 and 6 and verses 7 through 10 are pretty unrelated, Luke connects them—intentionally—as if this is the real answer or explanation to the apostles’ question. “Who among you would say to your slave who has just come in from plowing or tending sheep in the field, ‘Come here at once and take your place at the table’?”
Jesus is portrayed asking this question as if some of the apostles actually had slaves in their households. And while that may be a troublesome image of us in 21st Century America, it seems not to have the same challenges for Jesus and the apostles in 1st century Palestine. “Who among you would say…” and the answer is pretty much, “none of us.” The image Jesus uses is a “weird table,” much akin to us going out to a very nice restaurant, and when the server comes to take our order, we get up and seat the server at OUR table, taking his or her order and serving it before we get to have our meal. Who of us would do that? …none of us, right?
Jesus’ point is that it’s human convention to treat laborers appropriately—according to the relationships established for them. Everyone expectation is that the slave will follow the directions given; that’s what’s supposed to happen. A slave or servant doesn’t earn special significance because he or she has done what she or he was directed to do. Therefore, concludes Jesus, treat yourselves accordingly. Do what you’ve been asked to do, and don’t expect special treatment.
For me, the weird and intriguing part of the story is that the table Jesus asks about—the one with the master serving the servants—is exactly the kind of table I think Jesus has been teaching us about, the very table God promises is waiting for us in the Kingdom of God. This strange table, which everyone seems to reject (and for good reason) is exactly the kind of table we believe God has set for us—and yet, the story has us rejecting it! What’s wrong with this picture?
And maybe, that’s what we always say; “There’s just something “wrong” with this picture.” And often, we think the “wrongness” begins with the apostles asking Jesus to “increase [their] faith.” But let’s think about this just a bit further. Just what is it that the apostles have been asked to do as servants or slaves?
This request for an “increase” comes right after Jesus has told his disciples that they must “forgive” anyone who asks for repentance; not only once or twice, but seven times in the same day, if necessary. If that’s not a BIG enough order, that story comes immediately on the heels of the story of the rich man and Lazarus, where it’s pretty devastating what happens to those who don’t meet the challenges of the lifestyle of the Kingdom of God. “Increase our faith” may not be a request based on greed, but one that acknowledges the difficulty of living as a witness to the kingdom’s ways.
We often chide these apostles for their apparent greediness; perhaps assuming they are as interested in the wealth of supernatural abilities as the Pharisees were lovers of money and lustful after the lifestyles of those who had more and most. We chide the apostles for their apparent weaknesses—assuming they aren’t always the best examples of what it means to live by faith. But in this story, I think they surprise us; startling us with a difficult turn of events.
It’s not always the apostles, but more often you and I who wear the vestments of greediness. Oh we think we have better motives, or the fact that our “good motives” ought to get us free passes on our desires. But when it comes to being greedy, perhaps we ought to look no further than our Church. We lust after more members, more money, and greater worldly authority. We’d like bigger, newer, more accessible buildings; bigger endowments; and some way for someone else to pay the bills so we can give all our money to mission. Am I wrong? But that’s been the story of Christianity in the modern age.
The great churches of Europe sent out missionaries to defeat and conquer every corner of the world. And since the great industrial age, the dominance of the West—including America—has led to our preference for the ways of the modern western world over and against the poor of the second and third world. Our ways are better; our life, our freedom, our beliefs—are best. And we believe this in terms of politics, and it follows with religion. Jesus, I think, would teach his apostles and disciples that if anything, it should be the other way around—our religious affiliations should inform our politics; which means we are invited to see the world very differently. Perhaps, even going so far as to imagine the kind of world Jesus proposes in his question, “Who among you would say to your slave who has just come in from plowing or tending sheep in the field, ‘Come here at once and take your place at the table’?” [None of us, I assure you! Am I right?]
So At the end of Luke’s story, Jesus’ answer to the apostles and to us is simple: “when you have done all that you were ordered to do, say, ‘We are worthless slaves; we have done only what we ought to have done’!” And at first, that sounds somewhat degrading to us. What? Us middle-class north American Christians treat ourselves or allow ourselves to be treated like some poor immigrant from Central America or Taiwan? But that’s not exactly what I believe Jesus has in mind.
Jesus has in mind our responding, not as people of privilege, but as people who do their jobs. In verse 10, the Greek verb “to order” or “commanded” is a word that also means “appointed” or “ordained.” As in, “when you have done all that you were appointed, or “ordained” for, …then say, “we have done what we ought to have done.” So that in the language of Luke’s story there’s another image—a different table, where the ones who have done what they were appointed or ordained to do, are welcomed at table together, perhaps even in the UNCONVENTIONAL manner Jesus suggests.
This isn’t the lifestyle of more, better, best—as in more members, more money, more success. This is the lifestyle established by Jesus, where followers are called not to places, positions, and abilities that “wow” others, but where we serve one another in love. Where we respond to the call and claim of the master—not in an attempt to curry more favor, but in an attempt to witness to the Kingdom of God. And that’s what we do when we gather around the table.
THIS TABLE, isn’t about “more, better, or most.” THIS TABLE is about the lifestyle of Jesus, who invites us into a new way of seeing the world. THIS TABLE is weird… because it asks us to give witness to the Kingdom of God before giving in to the conventions of the world. …Because it asks us to see the world through the lens of Jesus—and suddenly things can’t be the same anymore.
Ultimately, Jesus seems to ask the apostles and disciples to see the world differently. That they have enough faith, even to accomplish the hard things in life. That they have enough faith to do things that are simply unimaginable. That they CAN even if the world would have them—or have us—believe they or we can’t. Jesus would have us imagine a world where we can already leave convention and declare a new age. Are you ready for it? Who among us is ready to get out the apron, to don the uniform, to serve others as Christ has served us?
Today is World Communion Sunday. And when we join at table with our brothers and sisters around the world… how can we have it any other way—than considering ourselves servants of Jesus’ lifestyle. Share the feast; share the life.
--+ Brothers and Sisters, God sent God’s son, the Christ; and Jesus dares us, “who among you would say to the slave who just came in from the field, come here at once and take your place at the table?” I’d like to think that all of us would accept that dare—“we would!” That we might give witness to the ways of the kingdom of God. Here’s our opportunity as we share at Christ’s table. AMEN.
http://www.box.net/shared/7xb0htfu0q
The semon manuscript I used to preach from is included below:
The Twenty-Seventh Sunday of Ordinary Time & World Communion Sunday; October 03, 2010
Park Avenue Presbyterian Church; Des Moines, Iowa
Texts: Lamentations 1: 1-6
Lamentations 3: 19-26 or Psalm 137
2 Timothy 1: 1-14
Luke 17: 5-10 *
“The Weird Table”
--} Today is World Communion Sunday—celebrated by many Christians the world over. So think if you will, that our celebration of the Lord’s Supper serves as the great opposition for all that’s wrong in the world. Hunger. Warfare. Political advertising. Disasters. Consider the table as a place of uniting, a sacrament that puts US together with CHRIST for the sake of all that is good and right for the world. For me it’s sort of like the Psalmist’s promise in the 23rd Psalm—“thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies.” When we gather at table as believers… we gather being observed by the world. At least part of what we hope the world observes is God’s gracious care of us.
I think in a similar way Jesus in Luke’s gospel lesson offers us different orientation.
More often than not, we presume that the apostles in today’s reading are being greedy, saying to Jesus, “increase our faith.” Jesus’ response seems a quick punch—“If you had faith the size of a mustard seed, you could say to this mulberry tree, ‘Be uprooted and planted in the sea,’ and it would obey you.” And before we ask ourselves about the power to uproot trees and plant them in the sea, perhaps we need to remember that no matter faith’s relative size to the mustard seed, planting a tree in the sea in any case seems like a pretty dumb idea. Jesus seems not to mince words; when they ask, “give us more,” he says quickly the equivalent of, “that’s dumb.”
But Luke takes the opportunity to connect verses 6 and 7 grammatically. Where often in a plain English reading, we’d be tempted to say that verses 5 and 6 and verses 7 through 10 are pretty unrelated, Luke connects them—intentionally—as if this is the real answer or explanation to the apostles’ question. “Who among you would say to your slave who has just come in from plowing or tending sheep in the field, ‘Come here at once and take your place at the table’?”
Jesus is portrayed asking this question as if some of the apostles actually had slaves in their households. And while that may be a troublesome image of us in 21st Century America, it seems not to have the same challenges for Jesus and the apostles in 1st century Palestine. “Who among you would say…” and the answer is pretty much, “none of us.” The image Jesus uses is a “weird table,” much akin to us going out to a very nice restaurant, and when the server comes to take our order, we get up and seat the server at OUR table, taking his or her order and serving it before we get to have our meal. Who of us would do that? …none of us, right?
Jesus’ point is that it’s human convention to treat laborers appropriately—according to the relationships established for them. Everyone expectation is that the slave will follow the directions given; that’s what’s supposed to happen. A slave or servant doesn’t earn special significance because he or she has done what she or he was directed to do. Therefore, concludes Jesus, treat yourselves accordingly. Do what you’ve been asked to do, and don’t expect special treatment.
For me, the weird and intriguing part of the story is that the table Jesus asks about—the one with the master serving the servants—is exactly the kind of table I think Jesus has been teaching us about, the very table God promises is waiting for us in the Kingdom of God. This strange table, which everyone seems to reject (and for good reason) is exactly the kind of table we believe God has set for us—and yet, the story has us rejecting it! What’s wrong with this picture?
And maybe, that’s what we always say; “There’s just something “wrong” with this picture.” And often, we think the “wrongness” begins with the apostles asking Jesus to “increase [their] faith.” But let’s think about this just a bit further. Just what is it that the apostles have been asked to do as servants or slaves?
This request for an “increase” comes right after Jesus has told his disciples that they must “forgive” anyone who asks for repentance; not only once or twice, but seven times in the same day, if necessary. If that’s not a BIG enough order, that story comes immediately on the heels of the story of the rich man and Lazarus, where it’s pretty devastating what happens to those who don’t meet the challenges of the lifestyle of the Kingdom of God. “Increase our faith” may not be a request based on greed, but one that acknowledges the difficulty of living as a witness to the kingdom’s ways.
We often chide these apostles for their apparent greediness; perhaps assuming they are as interested in the wealth of supernatural abilities as the Pharisees were lovers of money and lustful after the lifestyles of those who had more and most. We chide the apostles for their apparent weaknesses—assuming they aren’t always the best examples of what it means to live by faith. But in this story, I think they surprise us; startling us with a difficult turn of events.
It’s not always the apostles, but more often you and I who wear the vestments of greediness. Oh we think we have better motives, or the fact that our “good motives” ought to get us free passes on our desires. But when it comes to being greedy, perhaps we ought to look no further than our Church. We lust after more members, more money, and greater worldly authority. We’d like bigger, newer, more accessible buildings; bigger endowments; and some way for someone else to pay the bills so we can give all our money to mission. Am I wrong? But that’s been the story of Christianity in the modern age.
The great churches of Europe sent out missionaries to defeat and conquer every corner of the world. And since the great industrial age, the dominance of the West—including America—has led to our preference for the ways of the modern western world over and against the poor of the second and third world. Our ways are better; our life, our freedom, our beliefs—are best. And we believe this in terms of politics, and it follows with religion. Jesus, I think, would teach his apostles and disciples that if anything, it should be the other way around—our religious affiliations should inform our politics; which means we are invited to see the world very differently. Perhaps, even going so far as to imagine the kind of world Jesus proposes in his question, “Who among you would say to your slave who has just come in from plowing or tending sheep in the field, ‘Come here at once and take your place at the table’?” [None of us, I assure you! Am I right?]
So At the end of Luke’s story, Jesus’ answer to the apostles and to us is simple: “when you have done all that you were ordered to do, say, ‘We are worthless slaves; we have done only what we ought to have done’!” And at first, that sounds somewhat degrading to us. What? Us middle-class north American Christians treat ourselves or allow ourselves to be treated like some poor immigrant from Central America or Taiwan? But that’s not exactly what I believe Jesus has in mind.
Jesus has in mind our responding, not as people of privilege, but as people who do their jobs. In verse 10, the Greek verb “to order” or “commanded” is a word that also means “appointed” or “ordained.” As in, “when you have done all that you were appointed, or “ordained” for, …then say, “we have done what we ought to have done.” So that in the language of Luke’s story there’s another image—a different table, where the ones who have done what they were appointed or ordained to do, are welcomed at table together, perhaps even in the UNCONVENTIONAL manner Jesus suggests.
This isn’t the lifestyle of more, better, best—as in more members, more money, more success. This is the lifestyle established by Jesus, where followers are called not to places, positions, and abilities that “wow” others, but where we serve one another in love. Where we respond to the call and claim of the master—not in an attempt to curry more favor, but in an attempt to witness to the Kingdom of God. And that’s what we do when we gather around the table.
THIS TABLE, isn’t about “more, better, or most.” THIS TABLE is about the lifestyle of Jesus, who invites us into a new way of seeing the world. THIS TABLE is weird… because it asks us to give witness to the Kingdom of God before giving in to the conventions of the world. …Because it asks us to see the world through the lens of Jesus—and suddenly things can’t be the same anymore.
Ultimately, Jesus seems to ask the apostles and disciples to see the world differently. That they have enough faith, even to accomplish the hard things in life. That they have enough faith to do things that are simply unimaginable. That they CAN even if the world would have them—or have us—believe they or we can’t. Jesus would have us imagine a world where we can already leave convention and declare a new age. Are you ready for it? Who among us is ready to get out the apron, to don the uniform, to serve others as Christ has served us?
Today is World Communion Sunday. And when we join at table with our brothers and sisters around the world… how can we have it any other way—than considering ourselves servants of Jesus’ lifestyle. Share the feast; share the life.
--+ Brothers and Sisters, God sent God’s son, the Christ; and Jesus dares us, “who among you would say to the slave who just came in from the field, come here at once and take your place at the table?” I’d like to think that all of us would accept that dare—“we would!” That we might give witness to the ways of the kingdom of God. Here’s our opportunity as we share at Christ’s table. AMEN.
Sunday, September 26, 2010
Audio Link and Sermon Manuscript for Sunday, September 26, 2010
If you'd like to listen to my sermon from Sunday, September 26th, 2010, click on the link below to download the audio file.
http://www.box.net/shared/n3nty7227n
The sermon manuscript I used follows below:
The Twenty-Sixth Sunday of Ordinary Time; September 26, 2010
Park Avenue Presbyterian Church; Des Moines, Iowa
Texts: Jeremiah 32: 1-3a, 6-15
Psalm 91: 1-6, 14-16
1 Timothy 6: 6-19
Luke 16: 19-31 *
--} This morning’s parable in our gospel lesson surely begins with the context Luke puts it in. The gospel story begins with more than just the parable about the rich man and Lazarus, but with the Pharisees, “who were lovers of money,” and who had been ridiculing Jesus. The good news is we have a context in which to understand Jesus’ parable; the bad news… is that once again, our money (particularly that we have more than enough) is an issue for us, too.
Initially, at least, we all want to cheer the “great reversal” of verse 25: “remember that during your lifetime you received your good things, and Lazarus, in like manner evil things; but now he is comforted and you are in agony.” To be sure, like us, many in the crowd around Jesus would have cheered such “just desserts,” too—reveling in the notion that all people get what’s coming to them. We’d like to think that with the coming of God’s Kingdom, everything gets evened out. The billionaires can live like paupers, and WE can all live like Donald Trump!
Yet, we use this reality to justify suffering now, as if it will eventually be rewarded. We’re comforted, because when we see people who are suffering at the hands of human greed, we believe that’s OK, because they will eventually get their reward in heaven. And maybe, just maybe, our lives don’t have to change so much. After all, we try and do our part to help those who are suffering; and none of us really live like Donald Trump! But I don’t believe this is Jesus’ point.
Luke has a curious way of telling this story. First, the rich man is never named. Names are a big deal, and the fact that Lazarus is named and the rich man isn’t, tells us something about Lazarus’ relative value in the parable. Press Lazarus’ name a bit, and we discover his name means, “God helps.” So this parable is a picture of a rich man verses the one who God helps. Lazarus is only seen lying at the gate, suffering. How does he ever gain God’s favor?
There’s an old Americanized proverb most of us are familiar with: “God helps those who help themselves.” Afterall, we’re the people who are ridiculously proud of “pulling ourselves up by our own bootstraps.” You can’t just sit and wallow in your sufferings or your losses or your defeats; you have to get up and keep pushing. Many people believe this proverb about helping yourself is biblical; I assure you, it is not. Some people attribute it to Benjamin Franklin, offering advice about how to be successful in life; maybe. There’s actually an old Greek fable that goes like this:
And the point seems to be that you have to demonstrate some initiative in order for God to throw in with you, right?
But in Jesus’ parable, God’s favor or God’s help requires no such initiative. If anything, God simply observes injustice and will take care of it in the next life. “Where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.”
But I believe the truth is that if we don’t walk away from this parable a good bit offended, we’ve missed the meaning.
We always want to believe that we are somehow less offensive in our behavior than the rich man Jesus tells us about. That we wouldn’t feast sumptuously ourselves while we allowed Lazarus to lie at the gate and suffer, day after day as the dogs lick his wounds.
But the conclusion of the parable is this: “They have Moses and the prophets; they should listen to them.” And the point seems to be, not avoiding the fate of the rich man, but listening to Moses and the Prophets. Luke’s surprise in this story is that Jesus is talking to the Pharisees, who arguably ought to be the ones who are the best “listeners” to the law and the Prophets. And yet, they are the ones identified as the “lovers of money.” As it is with the rich man, their burden is justifying themselves in the sight of others, but not according to how God measures the heart. And when we presume a “great reversal” is going to be the “great fix” to all injustices, I think we become guilty of the same thing.
If we don’t walk away from this parable a good bit offended, ourselves; we’ll miss what Jesus is up to.
The parable serves as a check and balance for what we might otherwise settle for being true. We’re often convinced that prudent and wise disposition of our wealth is important and to be valued. So, saving for a rainy day, putting something away for tomorrow—just in case, or managing our wealth and money, are practical steps to success. The value of emptying the purse so our hearts might be filled… sounds, well, foolish. Even though that would seem to be the behavior we would try and prescribe for the rich man in Jesus parable; and when Jesus would seem to be trying to advise us similarly.
So here’s a quote I heard this week attributed to the “notable leftist” Dwight Eisenhower. Of course, you know Eisenhower was no “leftist,” but rather a well-established Republican patriot. But here’s what Eisenhower said:
“Every gun that is made, every warship launched, every rocket fired signifies …a theft from those who hunger and are not fed, those who are cold and not clothed. This world in arms is not spending money alone. It is spending the sweat of its laborers, the genius of its scientists, the hopes of its children.”
And this is part of the point I believe Jesus is pushing us toward: that the choices we make for our lives are always related to those who do not get to make the same kinds of choices. And if we presume to make our choices and care not for others and their choices, we are no better than the rich man feasting sumptuously while Lazarus is lying at the gate in agony.
As we hear the words of Jesus’ promises for us, we tend to believe we are well on our way to personal and corporate salvation—maybe even without having to take stock of the victims of injustice or the suffering we surely witness and recognize. As we hear the promises of Jesus, it’s easier to presume God’s help of us, to justify our status, and presume our place in eternal life, rather than taking stock of our relative wealth and our relative unwillingness to even up justice.
Again, here’s the sage advice Jesus is quoting: “They have Moses and the prophets; they should listen to them.” It’s not that we don’t need Jesus, but that we have already been invited into a world-view that should guide us. God’s preferential assessment for some people is important. We should not seek to look beyond it, but figure ourselves how to change our actions accordingly. And then we can become people who aren’t just worried about what happens to us when we die, but people who are busy being God’s hands, God’s heart, God’s eyes, God’s legs and feet.
Or, as Vida Scudder surmises: “We have food, others have none. God bless the revolution.”
--+ Brothers and Sisters, God sent God’s son, the Christ; he doesn’t just save us, he turns our world upside down. He calls us to live in new ways, to see wealth, riches, and suffering as things we can change. We’re called—are we not—to give up clinging to money and to cling to the life of the Kingdom of God instead. AMEN.
http://www.box.net/shared/n3nty7227n
The sermon manuscript I used follows below:
The Twenty-Sixth Sunday of Ordinary Time; September 26, 2010
Park Avenue Presbyterian Church; Des Moines, Iowa
Texts: Jeremiah 32: 1-3a, 6-15
Psalm 91: 1-6, 14-16
1 Timothy 6: 6-19
Luke 16: 19-31 *
“As the Purse is Emptied, the Heart is Filled”
--} This morning’s parable in our gospel lesson surely begins with the context Luke puts it in. The gospel story begins with more than just the parable about the rich man and Lazarus, but with the Pharisees, “who were lovers of money,” and who had been ridiculing Jesus. The good news is we have a context in which to understand Jesus’ parable; the bad news… is that once again, our money (particularly that we have more than enough) is an issue for us, too.
Initially, at least, we all want to cheer the “great reversal” of verse 25: “remember that during your lifetime you received your good things, and Lazarus, in like manner evil things; but now he is comforted and you are in agony.” To be sure, like us, many in the crowd around Jesus would have cheered such “just desserts,” too—reveling in the notion that all people get what’s coming to them. We’d like to think that with the coming of God’s Kingdom, everything gets evened out. The billionaires can live like paupers, and WE can all live like Donald Trump!
Yet, we use this reality to justify suffering now, as if it will eventually be rewarded. We’re comforted, because when we see people who are suffering at the hands of human greed, we believe that’s OK, because they will eventually get their reward in heaven. And maybe, just maybe, our lives don’t have to change so much. After all, we try and do our part to help those who are suffering; and none of us really live like Donald Trump! But I don’t believe this is Jesus’ point.
Luke has a curious way of telling this story. First, the rich man is never named. Names are a big deal, and the fact that Lazarus is named and the rich man isn’t, tells us something about Lazarus’ relative value in the parable. Press Lazarus’ name a bit, and we discover his name means, “God helps.” So this parable is a picture of a rich man verses the one who God helps. Lazarus is only seen lying at the gate, suffering. How does he ever gain God’s favor?
There’s an old Americanized proverb most of us are familiar with: “God helps those who help themselves.” Afterall, we’re the people who are ridiculously proud of “pulling ourselves up by our own bootstraps.” You can’t just sit and wallow in your sufferings or your losses or your defeats; you have to get up and keep pushing. Many people believe this proverb about helping yourself is biblical; I assure you, it is not. Some people attribute it to Benjamin Franklin, offering advice about how to be successful in life; maybe. There’s actually an old Greek fable that goes like this:
A Waggoner was once driving a heavy load along a very muddy way. At last he came to a part of the road where the wheels sank half-way into the mire, and the more the horses pulled, the deeper sank the wheels. So the Waggoner threw down his whip, and knelt down and prayed to Hercules the Strong. "O Hercules, help me in this my hour of distress," quoth he. But Hercules appeared to him, and said: "Tut, man, don't sprawl there. Get up and put your shoulder to the wheel."
The gods help them that help themselves.
And the point seems to be that you have to demonstrate some initiative in order for God to throw in with you, right?
But in Jesus’ parable, God’s favor or God’s help requires no such initiative. If anything, God simply observes injustice and will take care of it in the next life. “Where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.”
But I believe the truth is that if we don’t walk away from this parable a good bit offended, we’ve missed the meaning.
We always want to believe that we are somehow less offensive in our behavior than the rich man Jesus tells us about. That we wouldn’t feast sumptuously ourselves while we allowed Lazarus to lie at the gate and suffer, day after day as the dogs lick his wounds.
But the conclusion of the parable is this: “They have Moses and the prophets; they should listen to them.” And the point seems to be, not avoiding the fate of the rich man, but listening to Moses and the Prophets. Luke’s surprise in this story is that Jesus is talking to the Pharisees, who arguably ought to be the ones who are the best “listeners” to the law and the Prophets. And yet, they are the ones identified as the “lovers of money.” As it is with the rich man, their burden is justifying themselves in the sight of others, but not according to how God measures the heart. And when we presume a “great reversal” is going to be the “great fix” to all injustices, I think we become guilty of the same thing.
If we don’t walk away from this parable a good bit offended, ourselves; we’ll miss what Jesus is up to.
The parable serves as a check and balance for what we might otherwise settle for being true. We’re often convinced that prudent and wise disposition of our wealth is important and to be valued. So, saving for a rainy day, putting something away for tomorrow—just in case, or managing our wealth and money, are practical steps to success. The value of emptying the purse so our hearts might be filled… sounds, well, foolish. Even though that would seem to be the behavior we would try and prescribe for the rich man in Jesus parable; and when Jesus would seem to be trying to advise us similarly.
So here’s a quote I heard this week attributed to the “notable leftist” Dwight Eisenhower. Of course, you know Eisenhower was no “leftist,” but rather a well-established Republican patriot. But here’s what Eisenhower said:
“Every gun that is made, every warship launched, every rocket fired signifies …a theft from those who hunger and are not fed, those who are cold and not clothed. This world in arms is not spending money alone. It is spending the sweat of its laborers, the genius of its scientists, the hopes of its children.”
And this is part of the point I believe Jesus is pushing us toward: that the choices we make for our lives are always related to those who do not get to make the same kinds of choices. And if we presume to make our choices and care not for others and their choices, we are no better than the rich man feasting sumptuously while Lazarus is lying at the gate in agony.
As we hear the words of Jesus’ promises for us, we tend to believe we are well on our way to personal and corporate salvation—maybe even without having to take stock of the victims of injustice or the suffering we surely witness and recognize. As we hear the promises of Jesus, it’s easier to presume God’s help of us, to justify our status, and presume our place in eternal life, rather than taking stock of our relative wealth and our relative unwillingness to even up justice.
Again, here’s the sage advice Jesus is quoting: “They have Moses and the prophets; they should listen to them.” It’s not that we don’t need Jesus, but that we have already been invited into a world-view that should guide us. God’s preferential assessment for some people is important. We should not seek to look beyond it, but figure ourselves how to change our actions accordingly. And then we can become people who aren’t just worried about what happens to us when we die, but people who are busy being God’s hands, God’s heart, God’s eyes, God’s legs and feet.
Or, as Vida Scudder surmises: “We have food, others have none. God bless the revolution.”
--+ Brothers and Sisters, God sent God’s son, the Christ; he doesn’t just save us, he turns our world upside down. He calls us to live in new ways, to see wealth, riches, and suffering as things we can change. We’re called—are we not—to give up clinging to money and to cling to the life of the Kingdom of God instead. AMEN.
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