Sermon - 17th Sunday after Pentecost - Year A

 Matthew 21:23-32           

                                           Acting Out of Gratitude 

            A man had two sons.  Just because two individuals come from the same gene pool, doesn't mean they are going to be alike.  Even if they are raised in the same family, treated in the same manner, regarded with the same affection, there is no guarantee they are going to behave in the same manner.  Having two sons means that one has two individuals, and each is going to do as they please.  It would be simpler if they were the same; then you would know what to do and how to handle them.  But each is going to be themselves, acting as they so choose. 

            Jesus tells a parable about two sons because he wants to acknowledge the differences with which the children of God respond to God's word.  He wants to acknowledge that among God's children there are those who say "No!" and then live a "yes," while there are those who shout an emphatic "Yes!" only to live a "no."  Just because it is the same God who speaks to us; just because God speaks the same words and interacts in the same manner; it does mean that we will respond in the same way. 

            The people to whom Jesus spoke these words had not – or were not perceived – to have responded in the same way.  In the crowd that day there were at least two differing groups of individuals.  One group was made up of the chief priests and elders.  Up to the giving of the parable, they are the ones who had felt pretty good about how they had responded.  They were teachers of the Word of God; they were the caretakers of God's story; the spokes­persons for God's commands.  They had definitely said "Yes" to God and they were living in the confidence of having confessed God as Lord. 

            But, as Jesus points out, their confession had not been followed up with action.  They had thrown their hat into the ring early; they had joined up with God's people and in fact had taken on the responsibility of inviting others into the family of God.  They had taken the name of the Lord, they had committed them­selves to that word, but as the day had progressed, they were not in the vineyard working, they were resting in the shade, think­ing their confession was enough. 

            They had not listened to John the Baptist.  In fact, this whole encounter comes about because they came to Jesus, demanding to know upon what authority he taught.  Rather than give them a straight answer, Jesus had promised to answer if they would tell him whether John's message was from God.  The malice of their ways is exposed in their reluctance to respond to Jesus' question.  Matthew records they argued with one another, "If we say, 'From heaven,' he will say to us, 'Why then did you not believe him?'  But if we say, 'Of human origin,' we are afraid of the crowd;  for all regard John as a prophet."  So they answered Jesus, "We do not know." 

            Those who find themselves in this dilemma were the ones who had said "Yes" to God.  These were the son who was courteous and prompt in telling the father they would go and work in the vineyard.  But they do not follow through.  They seem to have believed what they said with their lips was sufficient – regardless of what they did with their lives. 

            We see the error of their ways by looking at the other group.  This other group is comprised of folks we had just as soon overlook or ignore.  Jesus describes them as tax collectors and prosti­tutes.  We might call them pay-day lenders and drug dealers.  These were the hated classes.  Tax collectors and prostitutes were about as low on the social ladder as one could go.  

            Remember that the tax collectors were collecting taxes for Rome.  They were collecting money in order to pay the salaries of the soldiers that had been sent by Rome to oversee Palestine.  These taxes were not col­lected and then spent on a public health plan. Tax collectors made it possible for the occupying forces to occupy.  

            Prosti­tutes were more than a threat to an individual's moral character.  Most often prostitution was associated with the worship of the pagan gods.  Interaction with them implied a denial or rejection of Yahweh. 

            These people are the first son in Jesus' parable.  Regardless of the circumstances which resulted in their becoming entangled in their current profession, they were perceived as persons who had said a “No” to God.  They were looked upon as persons who had rejected the Word which was so precious to those chief priest and elders.  

            But then something happened.  Someone came into their path and they found themselves listening with a renewed hope.  Whereas they had come to think that their "No" was the end of it, a new opportunity was being extended to them.  John the Baptist had spoken of this opportunity.  As they listened to him, they had come to believe there might be a second chance, that it might be possible for them to revisit their earlier response and reconsid­er their choices.  John had said it was possible.  He had offered them a sign of this possibility.  In the waters of the Jordan River they had acknowledged their earlier transgression and emerged with a renewed hope.  Thankful for all that God had done, they were now in the company of God's messenger.  They were doing the work the father asked them to do. 

            Two children, raised in the same family, regarded equally by the same father, and yet their responses are entirely different.  One believes that making a confession with their lips is enough.  The other understands that the hope of the Father is to be His hands, doing His work in the world.  This child responds, out of appreciation, for all that the father has done.  Regardless of their previous responses, they are now setting themselves about the task of working in the vineyard. 

            Which child are you?  Do you think of yourselves as one of the chief priests and elders or are you among the tax collectors and prostitutes?  If you don't like having to choose between those options, I'll break it down for you in another way; is your following of Jesus little more than a confession of the lips?  Or does is a spoken “Yes” supported by action and commitment to the things Jesus would do, where he in your shoes? 

            The tax collectors and prostitutes knew that their only access to God was through Jesus' radical word of forgiveness.  On their own they had no right to claim to be acceptable in God's eyes.  It is out of gratitude for that acceptance that they reconsider their "No" and decide to go into the vineyard.  Their giving of themselves is an indica­tion of the appreciation they have for that which God has given them.  

            May we all be like these tax collectors and prostitutes.  

Amen.

Sermon - 16th Sunday after Pentecost - Year A

 Matthew 20:1-16 

                                                      Last will be First 

Thank goodness Jesus isn’t talking about money!  Because we all know that whenever any preacher dares to talk about money everyone gets very nervous.  My father-in-law says of such pastors – “You have crossed the line from preaching and started meddling;” with the clear expectation that it will stop – full stop! 

Jesus isn’t talking about money.  He is talking about grace, and about the kingdom of heaven and about the way God looks upon those who cry out to God for mercy.  Jesus is teaching his disciples an important lesson about how to look upon those who enter the fellowship after we ourselves have already become firmly entrenched.  I, for one, am very grateful for that. 

Can I get a bit personal?  And there is the likelihood that the one identified here might hear this sermon, so I have checked it out in advance. 

One of my three children is not a church person.  Well, actually, two of them.  But one is more vocal in their criticism and their critique.  Here is the thing – I love all three of my children equally, and I interact with them fairly.  Even when one of my children (and all three sometimes fall into this category) says bad things about how my commitment to the Church has hurt and harmed even when I thought it was doing some great good.  So, I have this child who is not among those who early in the day has gone out into the fields to labor.  What will that mean, at the end of the day.  Will God love that child less, or treat with difference?  I love my children.  And I won’t sit by while anyone does not love them too.    

Let me further say, that I want no part of any “heaven” in which whatever level of comfort is received from the presence of others does not involve all three of my children.  And for that matter, my brother as well!  If God is going to be mean to the child whom I love because something about how the Church impacted my children resulted in their not being accepted and embraced – well, you can image which I will choose.  

The good news is that I don’t have to worry about that.  The passage which I just read to you is a guarantee that God is loving and giving – particularly to those who the world would see as undeserving.  The God who it is my honor to bring to you week after week in sermons and to make real in your life through the bread and wine of the Eucharist is not a god who loves (and rewards) some children less than others. 

We can all get on board with that – right?  While we have to be careful anytime we start to “humanize” God, surely one of the human traits which we expect of God is that God will love his children as much as we love ours.  We know that our love is not contingent on our children following a narrowly defined course of action.   We know that is totally reasonable to love a child who has said bad things about us, who has attempted to deny us, who has stolen money from us – even a child who has broken our heart and whose actions have wounded us too deep for words.  We love that child, don’t we?

There is no pastoral conversation so infuriating to me as the one in which a parent struggles to save face amiss an acknowledgement that while they know their continued financial support of an addicted child may be enabling their illness they just can’t leave that child to live on the street and starve to death.  Of course, you must love that child!  And anyone who would sham you for caring for them is the person I want to speak with next! 

Jesus uses money in this parable because it was easy for him to talk about money.  Those who were listening to his words were pretty low on money, and those who were already decidedly looking for ways to silence Jesus were the folks who had money.  He knows his base, and his base would like the example he used – perhaps well enough to repeat his words, the next time in a context where more would be prepared to rejoice over a Lord (and a God) who does not discriminate among us based on the criteria of the world. 

That is the kind of god, it is The God, whose goodness and mercy is proclaimed in every sermon I preach.  That is the kind of god, it is The God, whom we confess and toward whom our liturgy directs us.  

Some will choose a differing god.  Some will choose an antikhristos; more will choose a pseudokhristos.  

We are to never forget that Jesus’ murder required participation from the civil authorities, the religious rulers, and the crowd.  The only thing powerful enough to unite all those forces is the utterly ridiculous concept of a God who would rip open every closed vault and made accessible every veiled space.  There is reason why many join the ranks of those who choose an antichrist.  Practically everything we have carefully crafted (from the tower of Babble to the benchmarks of capitalism) raise the rally cry of “anti” – we are against these things. 

It much more insidious when the spectra of an “antechrist” emerge.  An antechrist is a facsimile (a pseudokhristos), similar enough to the original that many will think it is the real thing.  It is a “false Christ,” false in that it is wrong, but close enough to lure us away unknowingly. 

As you read your bible, in preparation for worship this morning, you noted that Jesus speaks these words on the heels of the disciples trying to feel really good about their service.  They have lifted up the ways in which they left behind family and life in order to follow Jesus.  Jesus is no doubt pleased by this.  But Jesus is very clear with them in noting that they ought not to consider themselves more loved or appreciated than those whom their words may have belittled.  In case you miss what Jesus says to them, you can read it in the verses appointed for today.  Matthew 19:30 is the same sentence as we read in Matthew 20:16. This whole story about the workers in the vineyards is to drive home the very same point:  “The last will be first, and the first will be last.” 

The antechrist in me rejoices at that announcement.  I am always the last person picked for the basketball team, and I LOVE BASKETBALL.  I am also usually pretty close to the back of the line when it comes to being heard at City Council meetings. 

I rejoice in those words, until I reflect on the places where I am the one who is “first.”  “First,” in my self-righteousness and self-confidence that I know exactly what God is thinking.  “First,” when I look at the place I have claimed for myself among the world’s population.  “First” with regard to privilege and security.  “First,” when it comes to protection under the law and likelihood to be exploited or abused. 

“The last will be first and the first will be last.”  It isn’t fair!  It isn’t in keeping with our widely agreed upon standards!  Like so many of the things which Jesus says, it turns our world on its head.  Like so many of Jesus’ lovely words, these express what we feel in our hearts – even as we speak against them with the way we are shamed into living our lives.  

Amen.

Sermon - Funeral of Heddie West

                                                                No Longer Slave to Fear 

It was my idea to refer to Heddie as “Helga” in the order for worship.  Heddie is the second “Helga” from east Germany which I have had the honor of getting to know.  Both of these women seemed to me to have been cut from the same cloth and stitched together by the same creator.  Neither of them were willing to be silenced or intimidated.  A trait that was often on display in the way they interacted with others, as well as being on display in the way they interacted with God.  

Our Helga – Heddie – turned practically every conversation I had with her into a discussion of God’s fairness and God’s care.  In my years of professional ministry, I have had folks ask - then sheepishly back down - from wondering why God did not perform the miracle they sought.  Helga never backed down.  She continued to ask why God would not let her die.  It was up to the doctors and nurses and care-providers to delineate the medical reasons.  Among those who loved her deeply there were various opinions.  Among those opinions was the suggestion that Heddie was just too stubborn to give in to anything.  My discussions with Heddie were, understandably, theological. 

The aspect of those theological discussions most important for me to share today is Heddie’s underlying unwillingness to stop asking a question simply because it might embarrass God or put God into an awkward situation.  God does not need us to defend him, and he isn’t going to be defamed by one of his children asking the really important questions. 

 Heddie’s reasons for being ready to die certainly involved her failing health.  She was uncomfortable or in pain for too many hours of the day.  But her readiness to be with Jesus exposed a confidence that death would not separate her from the things she valued the most.  Death would be a reunion. 

So, she doggedly and repeatedly yoked me into asking God the poignant and embarrassing question – “Why?” 

I can’t remember when or how I wrote Hebrews 2:15 on a post-it and attached it to the “Five Wishes” materials Heddie had filled out and left with us.  Hebrews 2:15 is the verse printed near the top of the order for worship.  The verse is part of a longer statement but the critical insight is how Christ has freed “those who all their lives were held in slavery by the fear of death.”  Heddie might have been tired of living and she may have sought the release of her pain.  But more significantly, she displayed the blessedness of one who had been set free from that fear which cripples too many and hobbles too many lives.  

Running out of replies, one day I shared with Heddie the image from Revelation, Chapter 4.  Here, as in other places, we are given a glimpse of what it is like for those who are with the Lord.  We are told that the elders around the throne are continually and constantly falling on their faces to praise God.  I suggested to her that her existence now was not all that different from what her existence would be like on the other side of the grave.  In both places, I encouraged her, she could give glory to God.  I told her that she did have a reason for living – and that reason was allowing others to see her continual and constant exchanges with God and the way that God was interacting with her.  She sat there for a moment.  Then instructed me, “You could say that at my funeral.” 

The other Helga in my life is the undisputed chair of the Altar Guild in the church in Eisleben, Germany, where Martin Luther preached his last four sermons.  She is the one who took the chalice from me, as we were ending a celebration of Holy Communion in St. Andreas Church.  Through an interpreter, she wanted me to know that the chalice dated to the 15^th century.  It is likely that Martin Luther held this chalice when he presided at Holy Communion in that place.  “How have you kept it out of the museums?” I asked her.  The reply informed me that what I was holding was not some novelty item or trinket.  This was the cup which for centuries brought the presence of Christ into the lives of the members of that congregation.  She went on to say that if she and her predecessors had preserved the cup throughout the years of GDR – no museum could wrest it from their hands. 

Too often we treat God as if God were fragile and frail.  Too many times we want Jesus to be some pretty display for our bookshelves or coffee table.  Helga reminds us of the true identity of the one who created us, saves us, and preserves us. 

I have avoided telling any of the funny Heddie stories which you have no doubt been rehearsing these past few days.  She did churn up laughter.  For the record, I did not knock her down and jump on top of her.  We were trying to move to the living room to sit on the comfortable chairs.  She was trying to turn, and fell.  Rather than grab her I tried to soften her fall.  I did lay on the floor with her so I could look her in the eyes and evaluate whether I needed to call 9-1-1. 

We all got a few good laughs, from being around Heddie. 

Laughter is fading; not so much the sensation of joy.  Joy is that deeper awareness of being connected to that which matters and that which makes such a difference in our lives.  Helga’s fierce interactions with God created a deep reservoir of such joy from which we were invited to drink.  That joy bubbled over quite often and bestowed upon us the delightful experience of laughter. 

I will miss Heddie.  You will miss her.  But mostly we will celebrate with her the moving more closely to the God who loved her and cared for her and now has, finally, has welcomed her into his presence. 

Amen.

Sermon - 14th Sunday after Pentecost - Year A

Matthew 18:15-20, Ezekiel 33:7-11 

                                        When Sinned Against….. 

It may not come as a surprise to some of you that at least twice in my public ministry I have received a call from another member of the church, hoping to protect me from a death threat.  I do have the tendency to frustrate folks; sometimes my words and actions make them down-right angry.  Suffice it to say, that on neither of those occasions did I hang up the phone and look for an opportunity to “go and point out the fault when the two of (us) were alone”. 

In one incidence, I did take it to the Council.  A letter had been filed with the Bishop’s Office, and I wanted the Council members to hear about it from me rather than from the Bishop.  But there again, no attempt was made to smooth over the disagreement. 

I know that the popularity of this passage from Matthew 18 makes it difficult to call attention to the first reading for this morning – the passage from Ezekiel 33.  In those verses, the focus is not so much on how efforts to set aside a transgression might regain the brother or sister.  Ezekiel’s words tell us that when we fail to make an effort, the wicked shall die in their iniquity, but their blood (the Lord) will require at your hand. 

These verses in Matthew 18 are too quickly and too simply taken as a three-step process of conflict resolution.  We tout these steps as if they will  – as if they will surely produce guaranteed results.  I am going to ask you to attempt to listen carefully to these words, and ask yourself if these words of our Saviour might serve a different purpose?  Is it possible that Jesus is once more demanding something more of those who would become his followers?  Is Jesus speaking to the one who has been wronged?  Or might he be telling those who witness such sins how we are to prevent the blood of another to be on our hands?  What is it like, to be the one who walks alongside the wronged individual?  What would it mean, to place ourselves in harms way by making sure that the wounded and weakened one receives a fair hearing? 

Such a line of questions is set in motion by noting where the verses read this morning fall in the larger context of Matthew’s account of the life of Jesus.  The 18^th chapter starts with talk about true greatness.  When asked who is the greatest in the kingdom, Jesus gives the answer which resounded so loudly at Friday’s funeral of Ann Huffman.  On Friday, we read the version from Mark, but Matthew also speaks of the time when Jesus takes a small child and says, “Unless you .. become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven”.  

Chapter 18 continues - Jesus then warns us about causing one of these to stumble.  He expresses the fear that our own hand or foot or eye might cause such stumbling – “Cut it off!” he advises. 

Then there is the parable of the lost sheep.  Ninety-nine are safely with the flock, but one goes astray.  So what does Jesus do?  Goes in search of the one who was lost.  And unlike the way the story is told in Luke, when the one is found there is no gathering of others to celebrate the return.  No, in Matthew the others might just have remained blissfully ignorant.  The celebration in Matthew’s account is a solo event.  The shepherd (Jesus) is the one who rejoices. 

“If another member of the church sins against you” may not be a well written column suitable for Ms. Manners’ chapter on getting along with one’s neighbors.  Perhaps it is Jesus instructions for the church, and the one or ones asked to bear witness to the airing of the transgressions. 

We are way too eager to put ourselves in center of every bible story.  Perhaps in this story, we are one of the ninety-nine who consumed our grass and drank our fill and lied down in green pastures while another had become separated and lost.  And, perhaps most damming of all, had simply slipped our mind and moved outside our sphere of concern. 

It always pleases me when someone shares with me how they have attempted to apply Matthew 18 in their lives.  Nothing, nothing brings greater joy than connecting what is said in the scriptures with how we live our lives.  I would want to add that it does concern me, at times, that reports of going to the offender and talking about this one-on-one include the precise words spoken in the encounter.  This is good.  Jesus’ instructions include “pointing out the fault.”  There it is, in the very first verse.  But “the fault” is not mentioned again.  What is spoken of – four times in fact – is “listening.”  It is obvious that the hope is that the offending party will listen.  But listening is never a solo experience.  It either cuts both ways or it cuts us in half. 

I want you to act in such a way to overcome division and transgression.  But don’t for a moment assume the only division or transgression is the one in which you were the victim or the person who needs to be heard.  Given the words from Ezekiel 33, it is incumbent upon us to ask whether Jesus’ followers are being given a fool-proof way of setting things straight – or -  if they are being told to be prepared to walk alongside the one or ones who have a claim worthy of being heard.  “Listen.”  Jesus says it four times. 

The ninety-nine whose only concern was the flock don’t receive the same treatment as the one who has been left behind by the others. 

And next week’s Gospel is also going to come down pretty hard on those whose debts are forgiven and yet cannot see the way of treating others with the compassion they have received. 

I think the final litmus test in the Matthew 18 passage is that final step.  “Let such a one be to you as a Gentile and a tax collector.”  There were very clear behavior patterns for Gentiles and tax collectors – right?  How were they treated?  Not so well.  But think for a moment about how Jesus treated Gentiles and tax collectors?  Wasn’t Matthew himself a tax collector?  If you have gone to the person, if you have taken someone else with you, and if you have pled your case before the church then go ahead and think you are justified in shunning them, or belittling them, or condemning them.  That is what the ninety-nine around you are probably going to do.  In that reading for next Sunday – verses 21 & 22 of Matthew 18 – Peter thinks it is enough to give them as many as seven chances.  

.  “Let such a one be to you as a Gentile and a tax collector.”  Here we have Jesus’ permission to treat them as you would treat a Gentile or a tax collector.  But maybe, also, Jesus hopes we will remember how he would treat them. 

How would the words of Jesus be heard if we were to listen to them as instructions for those who have the opportunity to walk alongside the one or ones wronged?  What would change in our understanding, should we hear the wider context into which these words are spoken?  We may be too quick to put ourselves in the center.  Perhaps we are overly prepared to seek justice for ourselves – all the while remaining oblivious to what has happened to that one (or ones) who have experienced the sins of another. 

Pastor John Heyer fused at me when I ended a sermon without telling folks what that sermon was instructing them to do.  Here are those instructions:  I want each of you to remember, rehearse, and repeat a story of a time when you walked beside another as they sought the correcting of past wrongs.  Discover how that story reveals your capacity to listen. 

Amen.

Funeral Sermon - Ann Huffman

Matthew …..

                                                              Jesus Loves Me, This I Know 

This is a cartoon, which has been posted in the church office for years.  As much time as Ann spent in that office folding bulletins and just making sure the place was running properly – it is safe to assume she saw it.  The cartoon has to elderly women, sitting in rocking chairs.  One says to the other, “I'm getting so old that all my friends in heaven will think I didn't make it.” 

That joke was funnier, thirty years ago, the first time I saw it.  And I think about folks like Ann, whose long life surely means that so many they loved (and so many who loved them) have gone on.  If not gone on to be with Jesus, moved away or lost contact or find themselves in other circumstances which make it impossible for them to be with Ann, and all of you, on this day of shared grief; on this day of rejoicing at Ann’s rejoining those who have been waiting for her in heaven. 

Another fellow church member shared their concern that his long life meant there would be fewer present for his funeral.  “But,” he went on to say, “at least that means they won’t have to experience the pain and sadness too often associated with death.”  While Ann surely grieved on the day when Harold died, perhaps her strength of faith allowed her to express similar emotions.  “Better me to be the one to feel the pain of saying good-bye, rather than this man I love so deeply.”  I am not sure I want to continue this line of thinking when it gets to Harry’s death.  The death of one’s children is a hurt too profound for any to make assumptions. 

But I will assume that Ann Huffman had the faith to do that, and the faith which assures us that nothing is as wonderful as having persons in our life who will tell us and remind us that Jesus loves me.  And knowing how deeply Jesus loves me means my own weaknesses are offset with the awareness that he is strong – oh, so strong. 

Weakness of body separated Ann from this community of faith and from the circle of relationships she formed in this congregation.  Weakness of body returned her to depending on others to take her where she needed to be.  Much like a child, Ann was moved from her room to the dining table.  As is true for a child, someone came to tell her it was bath time and to assist her with this task.  I am struck by this – realizing the full circle which she traveled.  How many children did she take to the place they needed to be?  And, I am not merely thinking about Becky and Charles and Harry.  How many children did Ann carry to the lap of Jesus where they could feast on the Word of God and be cleansed of their anxiety and worries?  This loving servant of Christ is today carried by all of us, to the place where she has carried so many others.  We bring her to the loving arms of her Saviour. 

The aim of Christian funeral is do that carrying.  The reason we gather is to ensure that the one who had through the years so often presented themselves at the Altar of God is once more placed at the door to God’s Kingdom.   And as we do so, we become the pupils in a classroom presided over by the one who for so many years had taught us what it means to love the little children, and the fussy children, and most of all the wayward children.  The aim of a Christian funeral is to affirm the gifts of our Lord and to assure all those who mourn that it is the Word of Christ which will ease our hearts. 

Among those waiting in Heaven for Ann Huffman are some who found themselves there because of Ann.  And if Ann’s delayed arrival was a concern to any, they surely were able to set aside any concern for this sister.  She was on her way.  My personal theology does not buy into the notion that we have some particular task to accomplish before we are allowed to die.  But I am heavily committed to the reality that as long as we live, we continue to serve a purpose in the Kingdom of God.  Ann’s long life provided the chance for her to see how well she had schooled others.  Her years of needing the assistance of others were opportunities for her to see how well her wisdom was taken to heart.  

A Christian funeral is also a chance to acknowledge that we have one less servant among us – to do the work of the Lord.  No one can fill the void brought on by Ann’s death, but we can commit ourselves to mimicking her way of caring for others, sharing her faith, and striving to bring others to that place where the love of God overwhelms them and convinces them that what they have read in their bibles is true for them, too. 

It is the simple lesson, too often only understood by children, which we boldly proclaim this day.  Not as a new message, but as the popular refrain which rang out throughout all the days of life for our sister Ann. 

Thanks be to God for her life and for the life she has enabled us to live. 

Amen.