8 Pentecost (Year B)
Amos
St. John’s, West Seneca
July 14, 2024
Grace to you and Peace from God our Father and the LORD Jesus Christ. Amen.
As I mentioned in another sermon, I am not a great storyteller. Neither am I a carpenter. So for today, I had to study up a bit. In Amos, there is the mention of an ancient tool.
It’s a wondrously simple device: a length of string with a lead weight tied to one end. The tool is called a plumb line, from the Latin plumbum, or lead.
It’s one of the oldest in history. The Egyptians used a plumb line to build the pyramids. It could be that the ancient Britons used it to raise the monoliths of Stonehenge. This tool is so ancient, it’s even mentioned in the Old Testament.
I read that masons hang a plumb line next to a wall they’re building; gravity pulls the weight straight down. By sighting along the string, workers can see whether the wall is perpendicular to the ground. If the wall’s “out of plumb” — if it’s leaning to one side, even the slightest bit — it won’t stand for long. The only solution, in that case, is to tear down the wall and start all over again.
So much for the carpentry lesson. Today we turn to the prophet Amos; the time period is after King David and the kingdom is divided into two parts. The capital and worship center of the southern kingdom of Judah was Jerusalem, whereas in the northern kingdom of Israel, the capital was Samaria and the worship center was Bethel.
A little bit about this Amos. Frederick Buecher states that “when the prophet Amos walked down the main drag, it was like a shoot-out in the Old West. Everybody ran for cover.”
And one scholar said that Amos had clearly not read “How to Win Friends and Influence People” when he bellowed out in chapter 5, “Hear this word, you cows of Bashan who are on Mount Samaria [the capital city of Israel], who oppress the poor, who crush the needy, who say to their husbands, ‘Bring something to drink!’”
Chapter 5 is a must read, not only for that but because of this verse, which should be familiar: “But let justice roll down like waters, and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream.”
Amos is one of the 12 “Minor Prophets” which sometimes are called “The Twelve.” They have this “minor” title not because of their lack of importance, but because of their brevity compared with the longest of the “Major Prophets”: Isaiah, Jeremiah and Ezekiel which have 66, 52 and 48 chapters respectively. The shortest book of The Twelve is Obadiah (with but one chapter); Amos has nine chapters, and Hosea and Zechariah have 14 each.
There were prophets before Amos, like Moses, Deborah, Elijah, Elisha, but Amos may have been the first of the “classical prophets.” According to the first chapter, he was active during the periods of Uzziah, a.k.a. Azariah, king of the southern kingdom of Judah, and Jeroboam II of the northern kingdom. Jeroboam’s reign was during a quite prosperous period for Israel, with expansion of territory through military might. But the kingdom was beginning to face threats, both inside and out. It would be only 30 years after Jeroboam II’s death that Israel would come to its end, at the hands of the Assyrians.
There were some unholy things going on in Israel —dishonest merchants, abuse of the poor, court decisions being bought and sold, corruption in the priesthood, and, of course, idolatry, which the Israelites could never really get away from.
Amos is a fiery prophet with a lot to say, so it is best to not take this reading in isolation. In much of the book prior to chapter 7, and just a few verses before this, Amos said that the Lord had showed him a coming locust plague and a shower of fire, both of which were called off due to Amos intervention. Amos (speaking for the Lord) lays out his case that Israel will be destroyed by God primarily because of their lack of justice for the poor and their misuse of religion. Sounds familiar, doesn’t it?
And so God calls Amos, a dresser of sycamore trees from the southern kingdom, giving him the assignment of going to the northern kingdom, to Bethel. There he is to prophesy to the people about their sins. And so he did.
Amos spoke of God holding a plumb line in the midst of Israel. The people were found wanting, being “out of plumb” spiritually — that is, far from where God wanted them to be. Amos warned that unless the people repented, they would suffer God’s wrath.
Not surprisingly, these words did not please Amos’s audience. Rarely did the words of the prophets do that. And Amaziah, the chief priest of Bethel, stepped forward to remind Amos that he was a foreigner. Amaziah basically tells Amos that if wants to continue his line of work, he should return home to Judah and there tell his countrymen their sins. Leave Israel alone and stay in his lane.
But now, with Israel’s refusal to repent, Amos said that in just a few years, King Jeroboam II would die by the sword, the nation would be laid to waste and the people would go into exile. And that did come to pass when the northern kingdom fell in 722 BC to the Assyrians.
In this reading, Amos did not pray for God to relent as he had before. Instead, God compares himself to a construction foreman checking the plumb line to see if it measures up, so to speak. God says that “my people Israel” didn’t measure up, so he would no longer “pass them by” by overlooking their sins, their disregard for the poor, and their wealth that is not put to good use. Instead, “the high places … shall be made desolate, and the sanctuaries of Israel shall be laid waste, and I will rise against the house of Jeroboam with the sword.”
It is a powerful image. Amos will hold this line of God’s truth up against the people, and there will be no excuses. In order to be God’s people, there must be standards.
This is a dire text to be held up today, and probably not what you want to hear on a summer morning, but the Gospel was the death of John the Baptist. And if there were ever a family “out of plumb,” it was the family of Herod Antipas.
And while we may not be familiar with a plumb line, here is a visual example.
“Mexico City's Metropolitan Cathedral of the Assumption of Mary has an unusual item on display within it: a huge plumb line that hangs from the ceiling. The cathedral was first constructed by conquistadores who built it on the ruins of Aztec temples. The Aztecs themselves had built their temples on spongy ground near one of the city's famous lakes.
"The result? Over the centuries, the cathedral has been slowly tilting as the ground beneath it subsides. The Roman Catholic authorities have kept the plumb line in place, as a reminder to the people of what is slowly happening to their cathedral.”
This had me thinking. What if the church could hang a different sort of plumb line: not one that would assess the integrity not of the church's buildings, but rather its proclamation?”
If we were to hang a plumb line against our ministries, our own behavior, what would be revealed? Would our actions match our words? Or would it be all talk? Do we follow God’s commands as Jesus set them out? Do we love God with all our heart, mind, and being, and then our neighbors as ourselves? Are we the salt of the earth? Is our behavior like a city on a hill, drawing others in? Are we prodigal in our generosity? Are we like the Good Samaritan, or do we pass by on the other side?
We are not so very different from the Israelites. We are a wealthy nation, just like them. There is corruption. There is disregard for those on the margins. And don’t get me started on televangelism. There is a reason Dr. Martin Luther King quoted from Amos those words about justice.
This would all be so depressing except for the fact that we have Jesus as our plumb line, keeping us in line and on the narrow path. The vertical beam of His cross is the plumb line that is ours for all time. Following Him, being his hands and feet in the world, we are transformed daily into His people so that…justice will roll down like water and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream. Amen.
Soli Deo Gloria
7 Pentecost (Year B)
Mark 6:1-13
St. John’s, West Seneca
July 7, 2024
Grace to you and Peace from God our Father and the LORD Jesus Christ. Amen.
We find Jesus today after some time in and around Galilee. Mark tells us that Jesus “left that place and came to his hometown, and his disciples followed him.” There is no reason given for Jesus’ return to his hometown. He wasn’t one to take a vacation. But we learn that “On the sabbath he began to teach in the synagogue, and many who heard him were astounded. At first glance, that sounds promising, especially when compared to his last visit, when he was accused of being possessed by demons and the onlookers thought he had lost his mind. Remember, his family rushing out to restrain him?
After being amazed, then come the questions.
Perhaps we should not be too hard on Jesus’s neighbors, as the questions they ask are important, genuine “Where did this man get all this? What is this wisdom that has been given to him? What deeds of power are being done by his hands!” Even Jesus’s disciples had asked after He stilled the storm: “Who then is this, that even the wind and the sea obey him?” If you think about it, it would have been more surprising not to have any number of questions having witnessed Jesus preach.
The questions are certainly valid, because after being “astounded,” they became uncertain, maybe even mistrustful. This was not what they expected. They question his occupation, his parentage and family relations. It sounds like jealousy, and some are privately thinking: “Who does he think he is?” After all, he’s from Nazareth and no better than them. He is stepping out of his lane. Mark tells us they took “offense” at him, all this showing off.
Jesus answers as only he can. “Prophets are not without honor except in their own hometown, and among their own kin, and their own house.”
Except that is a hard one, as it suggests that Jesus is honored in other places. At least in this stage of the game, Jesus was laughed at when he said that Jairus’ daughter was not dead but sleeping. And, after healing the Gerasene demoniac, he was asked to leave.
Even so, in his hometown, Mark adds these sad verses: “And [Jesus] could do no deed of power there, except that he laid his hands on a few sick people and cured them. And he was amazed at their unbelief.”
A less than stellar visit home all in all. What to do after this response? Jesus leaves his hometown, gathers his disciples and began to send them out two by two giving them authority over the unclean spirits. “He ordered them to take nothing for their journey except a staff: no bread, no bag, no money in their belts, 9 but to wear sandals and not to put on two tunics.” There is a long order, certain to cause some anxiety. Jesus told them not to worry about rejection, just as he had not agonized over his treatment by the people of Nazareth. Instead, he said, “If any place will not welcome you and they refuse to hear you, as you leave, shake off the dust that is on your feet as a testimony against them.”
I have a great deal of experience with this as I make my rounds each day at Mercy Hospital. Sometimes I am welcomed. Other times…not. Yesterday was a good example. One patient welcomed my visit, sharing his various ministries. Another could barely look up from his phone. It has nothing to do with me, some people have had enough of what is called “church hurt,” and they want nothing to do with it. Other times, patients are tired, or anxious, or overwhelmed. That when I remind myself to “shake off the dust.”
As I read that verse about shaking off the dust, I had the whimsical thought that this is where Taylor Swift was inspired for one of her songs. What does she say? “The haters gonna hate, hate, hate, hate, hate.” When this happens, what do you do?
“Shake it off.”
The 12 disciples did just that. They “went out and proclaimed that all should repent.” And they were successful in their mission. Mark tells us that they “cast out many demons and anointed with oil many who were sick and cured them,” just as Jesus had done. And I am sure that others were asking the same questions that were asked of Jesus: “Where did they get all this? What is this wisdom that has been given to them?”
So what does this mean for us? Many years ago, I had the opportunity to hear one of the Jesus Seminar, Marcus Borg, speak. One question asked of him was: What are we to do? His answer was brilliant and simple. “Take seriously what Jesus took seriously.” In other words, we need to have the mind of Christ. That means witnessing to others with our words and actions, truly walking the talk, not just talking. There’s far too much talking these days anyway, and very little is said. Having the mind of Christ means taking the Sermon on the Mount every bit as seriously as we take the Ten Commandments.
So what does this mean for us? Many years ago, I had the opportunity to hear one of the Jesus Seminar, Marcus Borg, speak. One question asked of him was: What are we to do? His answer was brilliant and simple. “Take seriously what Jesus took seriously.” In other words, we need to have the mind of Christ. That means witnessing to others with our words and actions, truly walking the talk, not just talking. There’s far too much talking these days anyway, and very little is said. Having the mind of Christ means taking the Sermon on the Mount every bit as seriously as we take the Ten Commandments.
“What we dwell on in our minds will shape the way we live our lives,” said Presbyterian pastor Tim Keller. “What you set your mind on shapes your character and behavior.” Dwelling on “turning the other cheek” will shape your ability to forgive. Focusing your thoughts on giving encourages you to be generous to others. Opening your mind to the mind of Christ will give you the ability to love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.
Yes, there are those who will not listen, or cannot listen, but we just keep on going. And not just showing our shiny, happy faces. We keep going even when not all is going our way. Rich Warren wrote this, part of which I included in my devotion earlier this week:
“Many Christians believe God expects us to pretend to live a perfect life in front of our nonbelieving neighbors. Hide our problems. Mask our pain. Cover up our sins. The result is that Christians are labeled hypocrites and phonies. … What if instead we did the exact opposite? What if we Christians were vulnerable, upfront, and honest about our mistakes, problems, and fears? That would be refreshing, authentic, and attractive. … We think people are impressed by our prosperity. But actually, they’re more impressed with how we handle adversity. It’s not our success but how we handle suffering that gives our witness credibility.
"The apostle Paul knew this well. Writing to the church in Philippi about all the pain he’d experienced as a prisoner in Rome, he says, “I want you to know, my dear brothers and sisters, that everything that has happened to me here has helped to spread the Good News” (Philippians 1:12). …
"Many Christians think they only have one testimony: the story of how they came to faith in Christ. But your experience of pain is a potential testimony you can share. If you’ve ever lost a job, a home, a loved one, or a reputation and God helped you through, that’s a testimony.
"The greatest witness of God’s love in all of history was not Jesus’ perfect life. It was not his teaching. It was not his miracles. The greatest witness of God’s love was Christ’s suffering on the cross.”
Think on that this week. The cross at the center. We cannot control how others receive us, any more than we can control what happens to us on a daily basis. But we can choose our response. And that is to keep moving forward, going from one place to the next, being of one mind with Christ, and shaking it off when we need to do so. Amen.
Soli Deo Gloria
4 Pentecost(Year B)
Mark 4
St. John’s, West Seneca
June 16, 2024
Grace to you and Peace from God our Father and the LORD Jesus Christ. Amen.
I am not the best storyteller. I tend to get ahead of myself, not fill in all the names. I jump to another subject. I was told this by a friend who begins each story with “in the beginning…” She would take so long to tell her tale, that by the time she got to the Roman Empire, I was ready to just say: "Skip to the end." We would laugh about our differences and once she said to me: I at least I give details; you just say: “and then the duck walked in the library.” To which I answered: I’ve never told a story about a duck.
We’ve all been there, telling a funny story or joke that you found hilarious -- only to find that no one gets it. You can use the exact same words, but if the audience is different, then that is a different story. Pun intended. I have a standard comeback that I use: "I guess you just had to be there."-- "It loses something in translation."
I read that storytelling is an unrepeatable art form. The people listening, your own energy and mood, all that creates a singular moment. I know that I’ve shared a story that at once made me smile and then, made me cry with sadness or nostalgia.
The gospels tell us that Jesus chose to speak in a story-telling form we call parables. Jesus leaves us thinking, musing if you will. Over the years, I have often thought: Why didn't Jesus come right out and say what he meant? Some of these parables are not easy, and I admit that a few sets of laws, maybe a paragraph on how to be a good disciple or how to live joyfully, might not have been a bad idea.
But he didn't. We have parables – sometimes easy to understand, sometimes not. Some seem incomplete or awkward and at times somewhat irrational, like the neighbor who comes knocking in the middle of the night.
And then I remember: a list of rules never changes, never adapts to the situation. Rules are words written on a piece of paper in black and white. An essay is considered and formed in the mind of the writer in a specific time and place. But a parable is looser, more fluid, and it is alive, anew each time you hear it. It is for me. Just when I think I’ve heard each and every word, something new is revealed.
Could Jesus have made an impact with hard and fast rules? Maybe, but as my Bible study knows, as we continue through II Kings, it can get a bit dry with all those names and repetition. The parables speak of everyday images, allowing the listener to take a part in the story, even get swept up into it and then see with new eyes.
In Mark today we have two. The first involves a sower who simply scatters the seed, not truly understanding how it grows, only that it does. And grow it does, little by little, until the harvest. He doesn't know how the growth occurs, but he knows that it does.
This parable brought hope for those first Christians once Jesus had ascended. They could recall that Jesus had said the kingdom would grow like the seed toward harvest. In times of uncertainty, how reassuring this was. They did not know if the seeds they planted would take root or not; or if they would ripen. This parable is sometimes referred to as "the seed secretly growing" -- and those early Christians could trust that the seeds, in God's time, it would be ready for harvest.
We who are here today need to hear this message as well. We live at a time when, especially since COVID, churches are not prospering, and we may feel pessimistic. Is the crop going to fail? Are the seeds of faith we've spread actually growing or not?
Walter Brueggemann – who to me, is a prophet – writes about abundance and scarcity, and our anxiety. And while not necessarily about this text: it spoke to me.
“If you are like me, while you read the Bible you keep looking over at the screen to see how the market is doing. If you are like me, you read the Bible on a good day, but you watch Nike ads every day. And the Nike story says that our beginnings are in our achievements, and that we must create ourselves. ... According to the Nike story, whoever has the most shoes when he dies wins. The Nike story says there are no gifts to be given because there's no giver. We end up only with whatever we manage to get for ourselves. This story ends in despair. It gives us a present tense of anxiety, fear, greed and brutality. It produces child and wife abuse, indifference to the poor, the buildup of armaments, divisions between people and environmental racism. It tells us not to care about anyone but ourselves -- and it is the prevailing creed of American society.”
--Walter Brueggemann, "The liturgy of abundance, the myth of scarcity," The Christian Century, March 24-31, 1999.
It is what we live in; Brueggeman is right. And here is where the parable hits home. Despite the frustration, maybe even despair, we are to keep sowing, scattering the seeds of the love that Jesus taught.
There are days at the hospital when no one wants to talk to the chaplain. They should want to talk with me; I can be charming. It’s discouraging because chaplains are not there to evangelize, but to meet the patient where they are. God is already there. And so I go from day to day, room to room. I never know if the seeds I scattered go anywhere, but every once in a while, someone comes up to me at the grocery or some such place – maybe not remembering my name - and tells me that they appreciated my visit.
And then there are those days when you meet a patient who welcomes a visit. On their holy ground they want to talk about his or her faith, about their fears, or how this is going to change their life. And then I realize that I am simply following in the steps of another who has scattered the seed, and it took root. And that person – like me -- probably wondered if their work was in vain as well. Those are good days.
Fred Craddock, one of the best preachers who ever lived, was known for his folksy style. He says this:
“…First of all, please do not ever give up [on] anybody. Please. The plain fact is that I do not know and you do not know whether [there] will be any growth. So let us not be selective, saying ‘Oh, I think I will put a seed here. This looks like a good one, but I won’t put a [seed] there — no use fooling with him.’ No, spread the seed … Randomly scatter the good seed of God and do not try to predict what the result will be, because you do not know. Every congregation in the world has about a dozen people who are a surprise to their own relatives. ‘I never dreamed he would be in church!’ ‘I never dreamed she would be active in that.’ This is God’s business. This is Christ sowing the seed for goodness sake. And what do we know? We don’t know anything.
"Also, please, please stop thinking that success in the prospering of the Word is up to you. No farmer puts a seed in the soil, and then screams at it. ‘Now, come on, get up!’ It will come up in its own time; with sun and water, it will come up. You do not have to beg it, you do not have to blackmail it, and you do not have to threaten it. I get a little weary of people, good-hearted, good-spirited people, who on behalf of their churches, worry you to death! Just plant the seed. It is God’s seed, and the seed carries its future in its bosom. It is the seed, and it will grow. Just plant it. Be prodigal in planting; cast it anywhere and everywhere, no fences. Trust the seed, the gracious good love of God for you and your family and your husband and your wife and your parents and your children.”
Being a farm girl, I understand that part about the farmer. Instead, each year, my dad simply trusted. He prepared the field – plowing, raking, dragging – all to get ready for the seed to be planted. And then, waited. And it grew. Sometimes the harvest was good, sometimes not as good.
So, the question for today. Can we trust? I’ve always believed that we can. We are given the task of sowing the seeds of love. Some may take root, some may not, but we have done what Jesus asks us to do. Our job is done. Let God do the rest. Amen.
Soli Deo Gloria
3 Pentecost (Year B)
Genesis 3
St. John’s, West Seneca
June 9, 2024
Grace to you and Peace from God our Father and the LORD Jesus Christ. Amen.
I listened recently to parts of an interview with David Brooks, columnist for the New York Times and an author I admire, as he often speaks of spiritual issues. He is featured in The Buffalo News as well.
How this interview ended up on my YouTube feed is unknown, but seeing it, I was interested and was quickly drawn in as he discussed what it means to live a meaningful life. It is a long interview though, about three hours.
At one point, he speaks on happiness and how there are two types of virtues: resume virtues and eulogy virtues. Resume virtues, as you might imagine, are those things that make you good at your job. Eulogy virtues are the things people say of you when you’re dead: that you were loving, kind, compassionate, generous, and so on. He goes on to lament that public schools – and even families - don’t teach these virtues, as we focus on career. What he has learned is that over time, so many of us are adrift and unhappy. We concentrate on the resume values, that in the end, don’t make us any more content. And the worst part is…we know it.
I mention all this because as he goes on, Brooks shares that he has found that the world is hungry for spiritual and moral conversation, in other words, re-capturing the eulogy virtues. His opinion is that we don’t have the vocabulary. Words like sin, grace, redemption, forgiveness, sanctification.
I have good news; you are in the right place. Because here is where you get the vocabulary – and the stories – that will lead you into conversations that benefit your spirituality, allowing you to be transformed.
Let’s start with how to talk about sin. Yes, sin. Not a four letter word, but close enough. It’s fallen out of favor, but to regain it, we go back to Genesis.
And so, I turn to the Genesis text and the verses immediately before the reading.
“Now the serpent was more crafty than any other wild animal that the Lord God had made. He said to the woman, “Did God say, ‘You shall not eat from any tree in the garden’?” 2 The woman said to the serpent, “We may eat of the fruit of the trees in the garden, 3 but God said, ‘You shall not eat of the fruit of the tree that is in the middle of the garden, nor shall you touch it, or you shall die.’ ” 4 But the serpent said to the woman, “You will not die, 5 for God knows that when you eat of it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God,[a] knowing good and evil.” 6 So when the woman saw that the tree was good for food and that it was a delight to the eyes and that the tree was to be desired to make one wise, she took of its fruit and ate, and she also gave some to her husband, who was with her, and he ate. 7 Then the eyes of both were opened, and they knew that they were naked, and they sewed fig leaves together and made loincloths for themselves.”
The church calls this “the fall,” “original sin,” and it has been placed on all of us, and not for the better. Too many times we blame Adam and Eve, just like Eve blamed the serpent, and Adam blamed Eve and then God. As one writer put it:
“The hard truth is, we’ve all got plenty of sins for which to repent, and they’re not Adam and Eve’s doing, but ours. We don’t need to import any sins from our ancestors to establish the fact that we need forgiveness, big-time.”
Forget about Adam and Eve’s first sin, and getting back to the Brooks interview, he noted a discussion with an editor, who objected to the use of the word “sin,” noting that it is depressing. Well, of course it is, but if we are not honest with ourselves, or if we use language that softens it, or makes it worse, how can we ever see how easily we can be corrupted. Is everything just a mistake? Or immoral?
Our Lutheran superstar Nadia Bolz-Weber says this:
“I think liberals tend to think admitting we are sinful is the same as having low self-esteem. And then conservatives equate sin with immorality. So one end of the church tells us that sin is an antiquated notion that only makes us feel bad about ourselves, so we should avoid mentioning it at all. While the other end of the church tells us that sin is the same as immorality and totally avoidable if you can just be a good, squeaky-clean Christian. Yet, when sin is boiled down to low self-esteem or immorality, then it becomes something we can control or limit in some way, rather than something we are simply in bondage to. The reality is that I cannot free myself from the bondage of self. I cannot, by my own understanding, or effort, disentangle myself from self-interest -- and when I think that I can ... I'm basically trying to do what is only God's to do.”
Wasn’t that the issue in the garden? Adam and Eve thought they could do it themselves. With a little help from a serpent, they thought they could be like God, knowing the difference between good and evil. And that is too big a topic for mere humans. God is the creator and knows what it best.
Another way to think of sin comes from Tony Campolo.
“From time to time, I have been asked in the academic classrooms where I have taught to define what I mean by sin. I always respond by saying, "Sin is what diminishes the humanity of another person and of the self."
When I lie or cheat or commit adultery, I am diminishing the humanity of the other person and I am diminishing my own humanity. ... Anything that makes homo sapiens less human is contrary to the will of God. Sin is more than just breaking some rules; it is more than just violating a verse of Scripture here or there. It is what hurts the humanity of another.”
He then goes on to say that sin does not have the last word because the Spirit is always renewing us and moving us into a deeper relationship with God.
Amen, and that is how we grow in our relationship with Christ. We know we are sinners and yet we are forgiven by our gracious God, who continues to forgive and bless us with more that we deserve. That’s what grace is. Unmerited love and mercy.
And in this story from Genesis 3, Adam and Eve do not die. Not a physical death, but certainly a death of innocence. They are sent out of the garden, first being clothed by God. As angry or frustrated as God was, He was not going to give up on the creation, because it is good. No, God continues to bless the creation with
- His covenant with Abraham;
- His choice of Moses to lead the people to freedom;
- And when they want a king, they get them;
- And then raises up the prophets to get us back on track;
- And, finally, to the sending of his Son, to show us the way.
Sin is a word that we can use and use joyfully because we know that when we can get past ourselves, we are forgiven and new life awaits. And it repeats itself each and every day. We’re sinful, yes, but let’s revel in God’s grace.
If we want spiritual conversation and transformation, we need the vocabulary. How many of you remember the Confession from the LBW, or as I call it, the old green book? I grew up with this, and I still believe it says it best.
“Most merciful God, we confess that we are in bondage to sin and cannot free ourselves. We have sinned against you in thought, word, and deed, by what we have done and by what we have left undone. We have not loved you with our whole heart; we have not loved our neighbors as ourselves. For the sake of your Son, Jesus Christ, have mercy on us. Forgive us, renew us, and lead us, so that we may delight in your will and walk in your ways, to the glory of your holy name. Amen.”
As Martin Luther said: “Be a sinner and sin boldly, but believe and rejoice in Christ even more boldly.” We have the words for transformation. We have a book. And we know the answer. Amen.
Soli Deo Gloria
2 Pentecost (Year B)
Mark 2
St. John’s, West Seneca
June 2, 2024
Grace to you and Peace from God our Father and the LORD Jesus Christ. Amen.
Let’s begin with Deuteronomy: “Observe the sabbath day and keep it holy, as the Lord your God commanded you. 13Six days you shall labor and do all your work. 14But the seventh day is a sabbath to the Lord your God; you shall not do any work—you, or your son or your daughter, or your male or female slave, or your ox or your donkey, or any of your livestock, or the resident alien in your towns, so that your male and female slave may rest as well as you. 15Remember that you were a slave in the land of Egypt, and the Lord your God brought you out from there with a mighty hand and an outstretched arm; therefore the Lord your God commanded you to keep the sabbath day.”
Keep the Sabbath. The third commandment. On the surface, it seems fairly simple. But as I learned this past week, “by Jesus's time, there were 1,521 things that a person could not do on the Sabbath. For instance, a person with a toothache couldn't gargle with vinegar but could use a toothbrush dipped in vinegar; a radish could be dipped in salt, but not left too long in the salt, lest it begin to pickle…” All sorts of rules like that, and so, by Jesus's time, it seems that the spirit of the law had been completely taken over by the letter of the law.
Rabbi Jonathan Sacks would agree. He states that “every text needs interpretation. Every interpretation needs wisdom. Every wisdom needs careful negotiation between the timeless and time. Fundamentalism reads texts as if God were as simple as we are. That is unlikely to be true.”
Texts do need interpretation, wisdom, a sense of what is really behind the law. If the law becomes so burdensome that all joy is lost, that is not good, and I would argue, not pleasing to God.
And so we turn to Mark’s Gospel. This reading is from a section of Mark that has been referred to as the “confrontation section.” So, we begin with a confrontation. The disciples are seen on the Sabbath “plucking heads of grain" as they walk through a field. This would be considered work, therefore forbidden on the Sabbath. The Pharisees take issue with this, seeing it as an infringement on the prohibition against working (reaping) on the Sabbath. Sabbath observation was and remains one of the great identifying features of Judaism. So the Pharisees see that this “reaping” of grain does not honor the Third Commandment to “remember the Sabbath Day.” The Sabbath was always to be separate; it was to be sacred time away from the duties of daily life. God commanded it, and so it is a symbol of the relationship between God and the people of Israel. To acknowledge the Sabbath is to recognize that God is the ruling presence in one’s life.
And yet, the rules and regulations were burdensome. And so, Jesus comes along, and he has His own interpretation. The Pharisees notice and ask "Look, why are they doing what is not lawful on the Sabbath?" In the traditional Jewish way, Jesus answers their question with a questions and reminder of his own. “Have you never read what David did when he and his companions were hungry and in need of food? 26He entered the house of God, when Abiathar was high priest, and ate the bread of the Presence, which it is not lawful for any but the priests to eat, and he gave some to his companions.”
And then He adds this: "The sabbath was made for humankind, and not humankind for the sabbath,” or as the Message puts it: “The Sabbath was made to serve us, we weren’t made to serve the Sabbath.
And then Jesus is presented with an opportunity to show what that means. Entering the synagogue, Jesus sees a man with a withered hand and asks the Pharisees if it is lawful to do good or evil on the Sabbath, to save life or not? “He looked around at them with anger; he was grieved at their hardness of heart.”
For the Pharisees, who followed the strictest letter of the law, keeping the Sabbath had shaped their lives, to be certain, but it also hemmed them in to where keeping the law became all important; they had become hard-hearted, stubborn. They were so mired in their belief that keeping the Sabbath was important, that they missed opportunities to show their love of God, the God who brought them out of Egypt and gave them new life.
But here, as everywhere else in the gospel stories, Jesus' actions and attitudes are defined by his definition of the greatest commandment, that of love. Love for God completely first, then love of neighbor. In everything, Jesus acts out this love. And heals this man’s hand.
We do get caught up in the rules. But if we follow Jesus's commandment of love in all we do, we end up having more freedom. Not less. The great thing about doing this fundamental “love” is that the more strictly you abide by it, the greater your freedom. Love of neighbor does not limit your choices, rather, it opens up new possibilities. “Love always offers one more chance, always goes one more mile, always trusts one more time, always believes one more possibility, always commits one more hour, always cries one more tear, always rejoices over one more soul.”
A powerful story of how love works comes from an experiment – if you will – that took over twenty years.
“Years ago, a Johns Hopkins professor gave a group of graduate students this assignment: Go to the slums. Take 200 boys, between the ages of 12 and 16, and investigate their background and environment. Then predict their chances for the future.
"The students, after consulting social statistics, talking to the boys and compiling much data, concluded that 90 percent of the boys would spend some time in jail.
"Twenty-five years later, another group of graduate students was given the job of testing the prediction. They went back to the same area. Some of the boys - by then men - were still there, a few had died, some had moved away, but they got in touch with 180 of the original 200. They found that only four of the group had ever been sent to jail.
"Why was it that these men, who had lived in a breeding place of crime, had such a surprisingly good record? The researchers were continually told: ‘Well, there was a teacher ...’
"They pressed further and found that in 75 percent of the cases it was the same woman. The researchers went to this teacher, now living in a home for retired teachers. How had she exerted this remarkable influence over that group of children? Could she give them any reason why these boys should have remembered her?
"‘No,’ she said, ‘no, I really couldn't.’ And then, thinking back over the years, she said musingly, more to herself than to her questioners: ‘I loved those boys. ...’" (Cited on Top 100 Inspiring Anecdotes and Wisdom)
This teacher certainly knew how to teach. And not just the facts. She showed that she cared, so much so, that years later, they would still remember her.
Like the Pharisees, we often get caught up in keeping the law, thus forgetting the spirit of what it means. Jesus saw no reason not to do good on the Sabbath, especially when it would result in joy and new life for this unnamed man. It was not an evil act, but one borne out of love of God and love of neighbor.
Later in Mark, a scribe will ask Jesus about this. “One of the scribes came near and heard them disputing with one another, and seeing that he answered them well he asked him, ‘Which commandment is the first of all?” 29 Jesus answered, “The first is, ‘Hear, O Israel: the Lord our God, the Lord is one; 30 you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.’ 31 The second is this, ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’ There is no other commandment greater than these.’” That an exchange like this also appears in Matthew and Luke is indicative of how serious Jesus was about this.
Our marching orders are to embody that same love that Jesus had, so that others will see how life-changing it is. As we are transformed, so others will be. We can’t just mouth the words. Everything we do should point back to our faith in God: our behavior, our words, our actions. Because one day you could meet someone with a withered spirit, and your love and kindness will heal him or her. As Theresa of Avila wrote:
“Christ has no body but yours,
No hands, no feet on earth but yours,
Yours are the eyes with which he looks
Compassion on this world,
Yours are the feet with which he walks to do good,
Yours are the hands, with which he blesses all the world...” Amen.
Soli Deo Gloria
Holy Trinity (Year B)
John 3
St. John’s, West Seneca
May 26, 2024
Grace to you and Peace from God our Father and the LORD Jesus Christ. Amen.
Today is Holy Trinity Sunday, truly the great mystery of the faith. “God in three persons,” we sing. In review of this once a year event, I looked over old sermons, and I found that they all tend to be a variation on the same theme: a bit of history, a quote or two, some practical examples of the Trinity, such as water, or the egg, or even a braid.
I found this quote attributed to Martin Luther: “to deny the Trinity endangers your salvation; to try to comprehend the Trinity endangers your sanity.”
And that’s where I am, verging on insanity. And so in the fashion that I have repeated over the years, here is a bit of history, an example, and then something to think about.
How do you speak about a doctrine that is not fully laid out in the Bible? Scripture is filled with deeds and images of God as Creator; with God’s Son, Jesus, there is redemption and salvation, and we are introduced to the Spirit in Genesis 1.
But the doctrine as we know it, the Trinity, came about only in the late second century and was only placed in the life and dogma of the church after the Councils of Nicea in 325 AD and Constantinople in 381 AD. The early Christian church did not celebrate the day as we do, and it was in 1334 that it became an official day in the calendar of the church year. Most of the early church’s celebrations centered around Easter, Ascension and Pentecost, with Christmas coming later. So, Holy Trinity Sunday is relatively young, even a teenager.
Perhaps it took time because then, as now, human language has limitations. Over the centuries, we have tried to nail down the perfect illustration. Water is also H2O, but can be liquid, ice, or steam. There is the shamrock. There is the egg, one item made up of three: white, yolk, shell. All work, to an extent, but as one theologian declared: defining the Trinity is like trying to nail Jello to a tree.
What to do? Perhaps we should consider the relationship of the Trinity and how it enters into our lives as relationship.
Maybe we should stop trying to figure it out and just revel in the mystery.
Or maybe, just maybe, in today’s lesson understand that we – like Nicodemus –need to figure out some things on our own.
This is a well-known story. Nicodemus – Pharisee - comes to Jesus by stealth of night to find out who Jesus is. Is he the one? Or not?
Jesus tells Nicodemus that if he really wants to experience the kingdom of God, he himself would have to undergo a change of community and identity. He would need to be born again, which in Greek can be translated as "from above" and "anew." As a resident of this kingdom of God -- as a re-created individual, Nicodemus is told he would be introduced to the wind of the Spirit and the sacrifice of the Son. Faced with all that, small wonder that poor Nicodemus could only stammer, "How can these things be?"
"How can this be?" is the great question throughout history when one is faced with the mystery of the Trinity -- Three-in-One and One-in-Three.
In Helen Waddell's book entitled Peter Abelard, the Canon of Notre Dame converses with one of Abelard's fiery young disciples, Pierre, about the master's latest treatise on the Trinity. It has caused a stir, and Pierre asks: "Have you read the De Trintate, Gilles?"
Gilles nods. "It is more than his accusers have, I be bound."
"And is it heretical?"
"Of course it's heretical. Every book that ever was written about the Trinity is heretical, barring the Athanasian Creed. And even that only saves itself by contradicting everything it says as fast as it says it."
In the long run, perhaps the only way the church can ever hope to understand the triune nature of God is for the church to be the church. The doctrine of the Trinity reveals that relationships stand at the heart of the universe. Nicodemus is doing just that with his nighttime visit, no doubt beckoned on by the Spirit, and that begins his relationship with Jesus.
Last year, I told you of a Holy Trinity icon. In it, there are “three figures — three divine messengers — who are visiting Abraham. They sit at a small table, each figure representing a person of the Holy Trinity, and as they sit, they point to a chalice on the table, a symbol of God’s. Three sides of the table are taken, leaving one place open. One of the figures points to the vacant space, inviting the viewer — inviting you — to sit down with the three persons and share a relationship.
You and I do not exist unless in relationships with others. Even God exists in relationship. The human soul is not within. The human soul is not without. The human soul is between.
We may just have to struggle with the Trinity for a while; God knows the church has. But in the meantime, begin with a few questions.
- To consider God as Creator, work with what is at hand. What has the Father/Creator God given you that is all around you? Find purpose and joy in the small things, like a sunrise created each day, the passing of the seasons.
- As you think on Jesus as Redeemer, work with your past; work through your past, and give it a purpose. Recognize where you have been so that you will understand where others have been. Like Christ, you have wounds where you have been broken.
- And, when you consider God the Holy Spirit: Work with your passion -- what do you care about? What makes your heart sing? What gets you outside yourself and into the world?
In the end, Nicodemus came to understand who Jesus was. Nicodemus came out of the darkness – and, with Joseph of Arimathea - was one who laid Jesus’ body in the tomb, a final act of kindness - final, he thought. No doubt Nicodemus wept with joy when he heard the news of resurrection. And he probably still had questions, and kept working them out. So will we.
I’ve spoken before about the questionnaire by Bernard Pivot that is asked of each actor or director near the end of INSIDE THE ACTOR’S STUDIO. The one question is: “If heaven exists, what do you want God to say to you when you arrive at the Pearly Gates?” There were so many great responses that have been given over the years. One of my friends had a great answer; I wish I had thought of it. When she arrives, she wants God to say: “Here are the answers to all your questions.”
So, until that day, if you remember anything about the Trinity, remember that it is about entering into the relationship of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Like Nicodemus, we do need to figure things out on our own. But one day, we will have all the answers to all our questions. Amen.
Soli Deo Gloria
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