Sermon - 8th Sunday after Pentecost - Year A

Matthew 13:31-33, 44-52            

                               Like Nothing We Have Known

            The kingdom of heaven is like so many things, yet it is like nothing we have ever known.  The kingdom is so different that the best Jesus can do is to give us images, images which might allow us a peek.  Glimpses of that which can be illuminated through so many things - yet is unlike any thing we have ever seen.  The kingdom of heaven is like so many things, yet it is unlike anything we have ever experienced.

            Even so, Jesus realized the importance of giving his disciples a glimpse.   Jesus felt the need to share with those who would follow him an insight to this mysterious thing called the kingdom.  He understood how important this would be to them as they continued the ministry of proclaiming the kingdom's arrival.  It was important for them; it remains important for us.

            In Mark, Luke and John, the reference is to the Kingdom of God.  Matthew, the Jewish writer of a gospel, finds it difficult to freely use the proper name.  Thus, he prefers to substitute "kingdom of heaven."  A concordance check reveals how often Jesus spoke of this "kingdom" as opposed to speaking of heaven itself.  The kingdom of heaven is wider and more inclusive than the image we carry in our minds of an exclusive country club, reserved for the righteous.  The kingdom may be like some of our mental images, but it cannot be fully captured in those images either. 

            Our first parable makes precisely this point.  The kingdom of heaven is like a mustard seed, it may appear very small in its beginning, but it quickly grows into something larger than believed possible.  The kingdom of heaven appears to be an innocent reference to a place were God reigns - but it rapidly expands to include so much more.

            Remember the story of Jesus as he approaches the city of Jerusalem?  He laments over the city's inability to receive her prophets.  He acknowledges that Jerusalem stones those who are sent to her; the inhabitants of the city murder those whom God sends.  Jesus knows this, Jesus acknowledges this, and yet he cries for the city.  He will not feel bitterness against them.

            Contrast this with how quickly we write off those whom we consider to be uncooperative with God and God's plan.  We are very fast to cry out against the sinners.  Thomas Aquinas wrote that it would bring the Christians in heaven an added joy to watch the evildoers burn in hell.  The kingdom of heaven does not include such past-times.  The inhabitants of the kingdom lament the fate of non-believers.

            Seemingly small - the kingdom which Jesus describes is large enough to encompass more than we realize.  It grows and provides shelter to all those in need of rest.  The kingdom of heaven is not exclusive - it is inclusive.  It welcomes all to come and live within its shade.

            The kingdom of heaven is like yeast.  It does not exist for itself; rather its purpose is to have an impact on that with which it comes into contact.

            Heaven, and talk of heaven, so often centers on MY getting to that blessed and promised place.  All too often, talk of heaven becomes some sort of a pep-rally, encouraging us to strive for the prize.  The kingdom of heaven is different.  In the kingdom, one loses oneself in the process of impacting the lives of others.  The yeast interacts until the whole loaf is leavened.

            This is one of my favorite measures of faithfulness.  I find myself listening to religious talk with an ear trained to pick up on references to what the individual thinks they will get from all of this - - - as opposed to references to the good which will come for others.  In the kingdom, we are the leaven which makes the loaf rise.

            It is important to me to consider the impact the followers of Jesus have upon the world, especially as we consider the next two parables.  In these, Jesus addresses the insurmountable worth of this kingdom.  It is like a treasure found in a field or a pearl of great value.  In these, Jesus is stating what he will repeat time and again; Seek ye first the kingdom of God.  There is nothing which is to be a higher priority.

            But I can only imagine myself making the kingdom my first priority - I can only believe that it is the pearl of great worth - when I am allowed to see the kingdom as a reunion of all that God has made.  It can only be the precious treasure, hidden in a field, if it includes more than the pious few.

            Don’t you just hate it when you hear someone expounding their “I got mine, too bad about you” theology?  It is so disappointing to encounter that mindset which seems to rejoice in the leaving behind of others.  How terribly self-centered, to allow ourselves to fixate on our eternal fate while ignoring the ones whom Christ came to save.

            We Protestants are quick to criticize the Roman Catholic Church's practice of veneration of the saints.  But in our criticism, we may have lost the very important lesson contained in this veneration.  The Saints remind us that there is no greater act of faith than to pray for others.  When we call upon the saints, we are asking those who have proven their faithfulness to include us in their prayers.  Calling upon a saint is a reminder that God's most faithful children are those who devote their lives to intercession on behalf of sinners.  In asking the saints to pray for us, we are reminded that salvation will only come when all are saved.

            A wide net is cast into the sea.  It catches fish of every kind.  Our fifth parable acknowledges that contained within the net are the bad and the good.  The kingdom of heaven is like such a net - it reaches out to gather everyone.  It pulls them in and does not concern itself with differentiating between the good and the bad.

            Heaven may be the exclusive country club for the pious.  But the kingdom of heaven welcomes us all, leaving the final division to God and God's angels.

            The kingdom of heaven is like so many things, yet it is unlike anything we have ever known.  Jesus asks his disciples if they have understood this.  He tells them that to understand means they will pull out of their resources much which is old, much which is new.  It is this blending together which makes them priests of the kingdom. 

            We can hold on to our tried and true notions of what heaven is like.  We can bring those old images out and share them with others around us.  But as scribes for the kingdom, we must also set before others this new vision of a kingdom where God's reign is secure, where all of creation is welcome.

            The kingdom is like so many things, yet it is unlike anything we have ever experienced.  May these glimpses move us ever closer to this marvelous gift of God.

Amen.

Sermon - 7th Sunday of Pentecost

Matthew 13:24-30, 36-43

(Jesus) put before them another parable.

It is frustrating to some that Jesus uses parables to teach and to instruct.  And he does it a lot.  In omitted verses of today’s Gospel text, Matthew gives a bit of an explanation for why Jesus teaches in parables.  You can read it for yourself; it really doesn’t clarify things all that much.  It is sort of a parable within a parable.

It is likely this frustration with parables which lies behind Matthew’s including an explanation of the parable. 

Parables call upon the hearer to do the work of understanding the message.  Parables have the advantage of teaching that message without beating you over the head or getting into your face.  Parables also allow those who would just as soon not hear their message to walk away and focus on some other part of the parable and ignore what the parable has to offer.  Parables allow the hearer to receive one message today, and a differing message at some point in the future.

I want to share with you what this parable seems to be saying in the context in which we currently find ourselves.  I do not mean to get in anyone’s face, and I hope what I share this morning will leave open the opportunity for anyone who wishes to do so to simply walk away.

The thing about this parable which has dogged me all week is the Master telling the slaves not to attempt to remove the weeds.  If the weeds are the evil planted by the devil why would the Son of Man not want his followers to pull up those weeds?

Hopefully, you are engaged enough and know the story well enough to be thinking, “Pastor, the answer is right there is verse 29.  In the parable the Master says, “No; for in gathering the weeds you would uproot the wheat along with them.”  But, does that settle it? 

Depending on how many years you have dutifully sat through sermons and how many differing preachers you have heard approach this passage, you may have heard two very popular explanations for why Jesus tells them to leave the weeds alone.  One involves the difficulty in telling the weeds from the wheat till they are fully mature; and the other is at attempt at agronomy and speaking of how the roots of weeds intertwine themselves with the roots of the wheat so that you can’t pull up the weeds without also uprooting the wheat.

Both of these attempts at an explanation have benefits for us in these days.

Let’s start with the inability to tell the weeds apart from the wheat. 

Maybe you have had this experience.  You plant a garden, or a flowerbed and as you begin to see green shoots emerge from the ground you aren’t sure which you ought to pluck and which you ought to encourage.  Maybe you have had the experience of choosing the wrong one. 

The evil in our world which is easily identified as evil is very easy to remove or pluck out.  The evil which is quickly labeled as such is at the very least given that demarcation and thus our children know to avoid it.  I wanted to come up with some examples of this.  But as each candidate emerged I realized that in the days of its infancy there was no universal acknowledgement of it horrors.  Practically every example was at some point in time an ambiguous choice.

Let’s try a few.

Hitler.  From our vantage point – no doubt.  But his ability to amass followers reveals that there is no universal condemnation.  Even today, his ideologies are attractive to some.  Maybe not to those participating in this worship service – but if there is no universal agreement we have to remain open to our perspective being critiqued.

I started with Hitler because I thought most of you would agree with me.  What if I raise the issue of slavery?  There is a raging battle in our society which I am sure spills over into this congregation regarding the removal of symbols of white dominance.  How united are we, as a congregation and as a denomination and as the One Holy Apostolic Church, to actively pluck out the evil of one of God’s children claiming to own another of God’s children?

Then, there is the example of the thing which I am totally unprepared to act on.  There is no doubt that the scriptures which we read forbids usury.  God’s people were clearly forbidden from loaning money and receiving a profit.  My future life is totally dependent upon the interest earned in my retirement accounts.  Am I willing to tell the difference between weeds and wheat?

Sometimes, this parable is used to remind us that we can’t tell the difference.  Sometimes this parable justifies our leaving the weeds in place.  “It is up to God to decide.” Is a popular refrain.  While it might remind us that we are not to be the judge of our sisters and brothers it also allows us to turn a blind eye to that which we would rather not see.

Even when we do see, it is so difficult to weed out the evil.

Did any of you binge watch the series “The Good Place”?  The premise is four persons who awake after death to be told, “You made it.  You are in the good place,” only to discover they are actually being tortured in a new and unique way.  Sorry for being the spoiler, but the last episodes reveal how difficult it is in a complicated world to do the right thing.  In 1431 a child gives flowers to a neighbor and gets some positive points.  In 2019 a child gives flowers to a neighbor, but those flowers were actually harvested from old minefields by small children in southeast Asia – so that child gets many negative points.

If the earnings of my retirement accounts maintains a 5.3% growth between now and the time I die, Lutheran Campus Ministry will benefit from a hundred grand bequest.  So, LCM is wrong in cheering for usury?

Evil and good are often intertwined.  And it is tough to tell them apart.  So, in most instances, we repeat Jesus’ words and walk away without labeling the evil for what it is – without at least saying that in our eyes this is evil, which would possibly raise some discussion as to whether it is right or wrong.

We will probably get near universal agreement that this COVID virus is evil.  But what of the ways some have responded to it?  Is it evil to insist another wear a face covering?  Are there evil roots interlaced with good when the cry is lifted NOT to politized this issue?

When Jesus tells his servants not to attempt to uproot the weeds, I think he knew that we might be inclined to get mixed up and confused and make some of the wrong choices.  Maybe he knew, and it broke his heart, that by the time we were old enough to be helpful in the garden we had already been socialized as to what the world around us would say is evil and what is good.

I want to leave you with some homework.  First, I want you to identify three expressions of evil encountered as you live your life.  Discuss these with another person; ideally with a person who might not automatically agree with you.  Second, I want you to think about (think about – not necessarily act) how you would attempt to remove that evil.

Matthew 13:34-35 (the omitted verses):

Jesus told the crowds all these things in parables; without a parable he told them nothing. This was to fulfil what had been spoken through the prophet:
‘I will open my mouth to speak in parables;
   I will proclaim what has been hidden from the foundation of the world.’

Amen.

Sermon - Funeral of Julia Goodwin

John 11:17-27

If You Had Been Here…

This bible story has always raised some interesting questions.  I had to decide where to start and stop – but there is additional essential information in the verses which come before and in those which come after.

I read the part where Martha says to Jesus, “Lord, if you had been here my brother would not have died.”  In the verses which follow, Mary (the other sister) speaks the exact same words.  Both these sisters – and by inference every sister - comes into Jesus’ presence with the acknowledgement that where he is there is no death.  His “being here,” has the capacity to prevent any of God’s daughters from experiencing that which could so easily be heartbreaking and life-shattering.

“Lord, if you had been here my brother would not have died.”

I imagine each of you have heard of the day when our sister, Julia died.  It was a day like so many other days.  A day begun with her daughter – and by inference with each of her daughters.  There had been nothing to suggest that anything was amiss or was likely to move in that direction.  As it was told to me, Joe even spoke to her as he was preparing to leave the house.  When he and Sylvia returned, they found that she had fallen and that her heart was no longer beating. 

How many times will it be asked whether she would have died had someone been there?  It is a natural question to ask, but a senseless one.  And one for which we probably know the answer.  Having had the honor of being with persons nearing death I can say with no ambiguity that among their greatest fears is the wound which their dying may bring to those whom they love.  It is a comfort to us to speak of holding the hand of a dying mother; but mothers nearing death are already fully aware of how a life of living and loving is more precious and essential than how one spends a few final moments.

Let me make sure that my comments do not equate our being with a dying person with the effect of Jesus being with that person.  There is no comparison.  And hardly anything is the same.  Mary and Martha and all of their sisters know that Jesus is able to do something which no one else is able to do.  Jesus is able to stave off death more powerfully than any EMT, or cardiac specialist, or oncology expert.  We are grateful for all those folks, and we will offer our prayers of gratitude to God for giving them those gifts.  But none of them, and no one of us, is able to hold death at bay in the way that Jesus can.  This is what we are called upon to remember and to repeat whenever we are confounded by those words uttered by Martha and by Mary.  “Lord, if you had been here (our sister) would not have died.”

As noted, it is in the verses which come after our reading for today which allows us to hear Mary as well as Martha, utter these words. 

In the verses which come before our selected passage, we realize that Jesus wasn’t there because he had remained two days longer in the place where he was.  They come to Jesus to tell him that Lazarus is ill.  Even with this news, he didn’t immediately set out for Bethany.  In fact, he tarried and did other things. 

Jesus will later say he did tarried precisely so that he could reveal something to his disciples.  And he does.  As does the writer of the Gospel of John.  Jesus comes, and he shows us that where we are inclined to see death, life remains.

But this morning I am going to remain on the side of Mary and Martha a little longer.  With them, and perhaps with Julia’s loved ones, I want to make sure that Jesus knows that regardless of the greater purpose he might have in mind, our pain is still very real and extremely raw.  I will not take the side of God too soon.  Nor will I abandon those who would remind him, “Lord, if you had been here my brother would not have died.”

There is another verse which comes after the ones which I read.  It is actually a very popular verse, because it is the shortest of all verses.  In John 11:35 we read:  Jesus wept.  You see, Jesus himself does not - too quickly -abandon the heartbreak and life-shattering realities which face Mary and Martha.  He has a great and glorious message to share and to proclaim, but he too understands how that message needs to be held in tension with the ongoing realities of life on this side of the tomb.

We could say that Julia lived 90 glorious years.  And we will remember the ways in which she cared for her children and how she blessed the lives of so many.  Affirming these things does mean we ignore the sadness and the emptiness which her death has brought.  And we have a Messiah who weeps with us when he sees how this is hurting us.

“I am the resurrection and the life.”  Jesus says, “Those who (come to me) even though they die, will live, and everyone who lives and believes in me will never die.”

Jesus has come.  He is here.  There is no death.  And there is no reason to fear.

Amen.

Sermon - 5th Sunday after Pentecost - Year A

Romans 7:15-25a         

                                    The Good That I Would Do

“I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I do.”

The best lecture I ever heard on original sin was from an unlikely source.  It was an appropriate source, for me to refer to on this July the 4^th weekend, because the speaker was a seasoned politician, one with a high position in our nation’s government.  John Hamre served as the Deputy Secretary of Defense.  He is also a member of Luther Place, an ELCA congre­gation in Washington, D.C.  He spoke at the 1997-98 LSM-USA National Gathering.

Dr. Hamre spoke of original sin as an essential doctrine for those who live in a democracy.  If our system of government is to work, he pointed out, we must remember the wisdom of the church’s doctrine on what it means to be sinful creatures.

Now, you might expect (because I certainly did) that a member of the military establishment would speak of evil in the context of our nation’s enemies.  In that era there had been so much talk of Saddam Hussain.  The changes in the Soviet Union were more recent occurrences.  As Dr. Hamre began, I expected him to speak of the sinfulness which results in evil nations and abusive governments.  But this was not what he came to talk about.  Rather he spoke of the necessity of a government in which my short-sightedness could be compensated for by the involvement of another.  He spoke of the need to have divergent opinions in order that workable solutions could emerge.  He spoke of the need for critical voices which could expose the limitations of my own human attempts to get things right.

The doctrine of original sin is not so much a statement of how evil and sinful we humans are - it is an acknowledgment that sometimes, even when we are trying our hardest, the result we get is not what we had intended.  Sometimes, even when we act in the best of ways, our actions still result in another being harmed.

Another gem from today’s reading from Romans: “I find it a law that when I want to do what is good, evil lies close at hand.”

                                           

Now, evil can be discussed in the context of actions which are in opposition to the will of God.  There are actions committed by humans which must be described as sinful and evil.  St. Paul understood this aspect of sin.  His training also enabled him to understand how easily our good inten­tions go astray, how often we succumb to tempta­tion and do not do the thing that we set out to do.  St. Paul knew of this basic human weakness.  But in today’s reading St. Paul is not addressing the simple tendency to do the wrong thing even when we know what the right thing is.  Paul speaks of the trap of doing exactly as we had planned only to realize that our actions did lead to a result we had intend­ed.  He writes of the horror associ­ated with realiz­ing that we have done just as we have planned only to discover that our actions have led to an even greater evil.

Rabbinic anthro­pology had already made allowances for the inner conflict between the law of one's heart and the law that directs one's hands.  These teach­ings held that in our heart or mind, we can know the right choice.  The Rabbis taught that it was entirely within reason to believe that a person could know and even choose the action which was right.  It is possible for one to discern the will of God, to know the mind of God, when faced with practical, real-life questions.

But, the Rabbinic understanding of human behavior went on to say that while we may know right from wrong, we will quite often choose that which is wrong.  Our mind knows the right, but the temptation to sin is just too strong for us to withstand.  Rabbinic anthropology held that while we might know the right, we seldom choose the right, thus we need a God who is capable of forgiving our sins.  We must have a God who is willing to provide guidance for us as we seek to amend our lives.

The followers of Jesus, immediate as well as those who have come along in the opening decades of the twenty-first century, under­stand the strength of temptations.  Everyday tempta­tions enter our lives and quite often - - most often - - we are unable to turn them away.  The neighbor wishes to be kind, but the latest gossipy scandal is simply too delicious not to spread.  The alcoholic wants to be sober but cannot resist the morning "eye-opener."  The politician wants to be fair and just, but the temptation to play favorites is just too strong.  Temptation is a powerful thing.  It often seems impossible for us to turn it down, to turn from temptation and embrace instead the way of righteousness.

St. Paul understood this, the ancient Rabbi's had spoken of this aspect of the human condition.  But as St. Paul writes these words, he does so with an eye on an even more penetrating horror.  St. Paul is not so much concerned with the evil actions that lead to a need for God's forgiveness, Paul addresses the evil which comes even when we have done the very thing that we thought would result in goodness.

Political, social or personal examples are readily avail­able.  Attempts to protect the environment end up damaging the seas and atmosphere even more.  Weapons engineered to provide national security produce global danger.  A drug designed to reduce infection yields the tragedy of deformed babies.  Programs to end poverty create helpless dependency and despair.  Parents trying to give their offspring the best that life can offer produce aimless, alienated, and angry children.  What Paul is describing is not our failure to live up to our ideals, but something far more sinister.  Paul is describing the bewilderment and shock that occur when, in fact, people do live up to the ideal only to discover that the result is devastating evil.  There is a back-side which comes with every coin.  This is then that we cry out in anguish, "I did not create what I wanted; I created the very thing I hate."

We can see how this happens, in matters of social policy, in concerns of public health, in relationships with our children.  But this same horrible trap exists in another place - in the one place where we most need to avoid such double binds.  The spiritual person longs for one "good" above all others - it is the good of being in rela­tionship with God.  What we long for above all else is the experience of connectedness between ourselves and God.  Yet, how are we to achieve this? 

If we believe that we can work our way to God, the power of temptation and our inability to do the good that we know we should prevail upon us and we realize that we can never achieve the relationship which God intends for us.

If we believe that through true humility we can come to God and stand in God's presence, we are soon overcome with the realization that to strive for humility is itself an act of hubris.

How are we to know God?  How are we to approach God?  If we give over our full selves to this endeavor, we soon realize how far astray we have allowed ourselves to go.  Unable to earn God's favor, the deliberateness of our actions prevents us from believ­ing that it just happened to us.  It is this bind that leads Paul to ask, "Who will rescue me from this body of death?”

Paul, trained in the traditions of rabbinical theology, already knew of God’s ability and willingness to guide him along right pathways.  Now, he is praying for a messiah who will set him free from this last evil.  He is hoping in a God who will indeed set him free from the torment of doing the right thing and having the wrong result.  He cries out, “Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord!"  Only in Christ are we set free from the guilt associated with succumbing to temptation.  Only through Christ are we able to obtain the thing we want most of all - a relationship with the one who has created us.

Niebuhr, ethicist and theologian once said, "I am never as dangerous as when I act in love."  It is when I am trying to do right, it is when my intentions are all in the right place that I am most likely to screw things up, to make a royal mess, to hurt in ways that really matter.  When I act in love, when I do what I do because I believe that what I am doing will make life better, then my actions are laden with all sorts of expec­tations and hopes.  It is when I act from such powerful convic­tions that I am most likely to create the very thing I hate.

Biblical scholar Kasemann writes, "What a person wants is salvation.  What (the person) creates is a disaster."

John Hamre encouraged that group of college students to become wise.  To exercise wisdom in facing significant decisions and to we wise enough to admit their limitations.  His lecture on Original Sin invited them into a community of trust where they could speak of their hopes and aspirations.  His words call upon each of us to ask for the input of others (particularly those who see the world differently from ourselves) in order that we do not blindly charge forward toward a goal with horrible side-effects and unintended consequences.  This, he said, is the true genius of a democratic style of government.  In a democracy, as soon as one begins to amass power you work to share that power with the powerless, the forgotten, and the those without a voice.  We are at our best when we are capable of asking those critical of us what it is in our way of thinking which leaves the door open to unintended but never-the-less horrible consequences.

Scripture had intended to teach the same lesson.  And long after John Hamre is gone and this system of governing is abandoned, St. Paul’s words will remain with the followers of Jesus:  “I do not understand my own actions.  For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate.”   We are in bondage to sin and cannot free ourselves.  Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord!

Amen.