Nadia Bolz-Weber's Blog

Mark 1"1-8

The beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.
2As it is written in the prophet Isaiah, 
"See, I am sending my messenger ahead of you,
who will prepare your way;
3the voice of one crying out in the wilderness:
'Prepare the way of the Lord,
make his paths straight,'"
4John the baptizer appeared in the wilderness, proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins. 5And people from the whole Judean countryside and all the people of Jerusalem were going out to him, and were baptized by him in the river Jordan, confessing their sins. 6Now John was clothed with camel's hair, with a leather belt around his waist, and he ate locusts and wild honey. 7He proclaimed, "The one who is more powerful than I is coming after me; I am not worthy to stoop down and untie the thong of his sandals. 8I have baptized you with water; but he will baptize you with the Holy Spirit."

So, in the spirit of full disclosure I feel you should know that I am not now, nor have I ever been, a crazy street corner preacher who waves her Bible wildly while shouting red faced at passer-bys. Repent! This may come as a shock.  And I'm not ruling it out as a possible career move in the future.  But  (for now) as an outsider to the crazy street corner preacher world,  I must say I feel for those guys.  Because what could their success rate possibly be?  I mean, does shouting repent! at people actually work?  just speaking for myself, never once has my life changed because a crazy guy with a sign yelled at me from a street corner. 

I mention this because it feels like maybe John the Baptist was the first and last successful crazy street corner preacher.  And given the success he had, you know, with all of Judea and Jerusalem coming to partake in his baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins,  I wonder what the guy said exactly?  Why did so many people come to him for his baptism?  Because bless their hearts, but, our modern street corner preachers who hold signs that say "repent" don't have near the same results at all. 

Maybe you feel like I do,  namely that when I hear a preacher shouting "repent" what I really hear is he or she saying is Stop being bad.  Start being good or else God's gonna be real mad at you.  Which feels like more of a threat than  anything else.   That just never works on me.  Who wants their spiritual arm twisted until they cry Uncle….it's like… religious bullying . 

And I just can't imagine that it was religious bullying which brought all of Judea and Jerusalem to be baptized by John.  I mean fear and threat can create change in behavior.  No question about it.  But it doesn't really change your thinking.  Threats don't change your heart.

Fot that kind of change…change in thinking and change of heart it takes truth and promise. Namely truth and promise that is external to us and that comes only from God reaching into the graves we dig ourselves and bringing out new life.  Because if repentance comes from something other than an external word of truth about who you are and who God is it's not repentance it's self-improvement. 

And I'm pretty sure that what happened that day by the banks of the Jordon was more than just a massive wave of self-improvement.

So if John came preaching a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins then maybe it wasn't so much so that sinners would confess and stop being bad.  maybe it was so that all would hear the truth about this God who comes near to us in the person of Jesus Christ - not so that we might be good but that we might be new. John says to them Prepare the way of the Lord.  Get ready for something new. Because, there is one who is coming who will change everything. 

And the way in which John the Baptist prepares the people for the Gospel is by making room for it through washing away their old ideas and expectations.  The untruth and sin and shame and all competing identities float away in the Jordon because the real thing was finally here.  Because in Jesus God is doing a new thing not to make us good but to make us new. See, I believe it was the truth and promise of this Gospel and not religious bullying that compelled repentance and new life from the people of Judea

         For this reason I love that Mark's Gospel opens with: The beginning of the Gospel (that is, the Good news) of Jesus Christ Son of God. If it had been titled the beginning of the Good Short Story of Jesus Christ son of God then it would not be News.  What makes it news is that it is something new that is external to us that we have to be told. It is news because it is not anything we could or would ever come up with ourselves. Because any truth that I generate from within me simply doesn't have the power to save me.

A couple years ago I had a conversation with a family member who is non-religious.  "I just don't really need anything outside of myself to give me meaning or comfort"  she said.  "really" I answered.  "I desperately need something outside of myself because if this is all there is…well, I can't think of anything more depressing." I need an external interruption. and I need it a heck of a lot more than I need self-improvement.  Because I can actually change my behavior on my own.  It's my thinking and my heart that only God can redeem.

 So this week I began to wonder if maybe repentance is giving up on the idea that we can redeem ourselves.  Maybe true repentance involves surrender more than it involves self-improvement.  Kind of like how the practice of kneeling in church has military origins namely that it was a posture of surrender…as in…you can't fight if you're kneeling.  And this kind of surrender the kind we see in forgiven sinners in the waters of the Jordon only comes from hearing the truth of who we are and the truth of who God is. 

Repentance – which in Greek means something closer to "thinking differently afterwards" than it means change your cheating ways. Of course repentance CAN look like a prostitute becoming a librarian but repentance can also look like a whore saying ok I'm a sex worker and I have no idea how to get out but I can come here and receive bread and wine and maybe if only for a moment I can hold onto the love of God without being deemed worthy of it by anyone but God.  Repentance is a con artist being a real person for the first time ever without knowing who that person is anymore but knowing he sees it in the eyes of those serving him communion naming him a Child of God.  Repentance is realizing there is more life to be had in being proved wrong than in continuing to think you're right. Repentance is the adult child of an fundamentalist saying I give up on waiting for my mom to love me for who I am so I'm gonna rely on God to help me love her for who she is because I know she's not going to be around forever.  Repentance is  unexpected beauty after a failed suicide attempt.  Repentance is a couple weeks ago when the clerk at the Adult bookstore on Colfax teared up and said "your church brought me thanksgiving lunch?".  Repentance is what happened to me when at the age of 28 my first community college teacher told me I was smart and despite all my past experience of myself I believed her. See, repentance is what happens to us when the Good News, the truth of who we are and who God is, enters our lives and scatters the darkness of competing ideas.

For it is the external truth of God that liberates you from the bondage of self.  This is what the daily return to baptism looks like. It is like the arm of God reaches in to rip out your own heart and replace it with God's own.  The Gospel is like your own emancipation proclamation. Every time you hear the absolution – that you are forgiven, every time you hear that Christ has come into the world to change everything, every time you hear that you are a child of God and that this is God's very own body broken and poured out for you.  Every time these external words of Good news enter your ears they scatter the darkness of competing claims.  And to be sure, all of it is the Beginning of the Good News of Jesus Christ Son of God.  Amen.

Matthew 25

31When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, then he will sit on the throne of his glory. 32All the nations will be gathered before him, and he will separate people one from another as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats, 33and he will put the sheep at his right hand and the goats at the left. 34Then the king will say to those at his right hand, 'Come, you that are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world; 35for I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, 36I was naked and you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me.' 37Then the righteous will answer him, 'Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry and gave you food, or thirsty and gave you something to drink?38And when was it that we saw you a stranger and welcomed you, or naked and gave you clothing? 39And when was it that we saw you sick or in prison and visited you?' 40And the king will answer them, 'Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me.'

Here's the story I tell about how I met my husband Matthew.  I had left the conservative, sectarian church of my childhood along with their teaching that being Christian mostly meant buying an insurance policy for the hereafter.  We were told not to concern ourselves with this world.  We need not bother ourselves with the poor, the hungry, the stranger unless of course in doing so we might sell them the eternal insurance policy thus adding a notch to our holiness belt. See, as our hymns suggested, we were the spiritual 1% we were all about gold streets and mansions in heaven so the deteriorating sub-standard housing around the corner was not our concern.

Almost 10 years after leaving that form of Christianity and after involving myself quite deeply into issues of social justice  I met Matthew, a really cute Lutheran seminary student.  On our first date we sat across the booth from each other at el taco de mexico and talked about social issues and we saw eye to eye on everything.  Then he said "my heart for the poor is rooted in my Christian faith" at which point I looked at him and thought: What are you?  like a unicorn? some mythical combination of creatures that doesn't exist in reality?  Soon I learned there was a whole world of Christians out there who actually take Matthew 25 seriously.  Who believe that when we feed the hungry, cloth the naked, and care for the sick we do so to Jesus' own self.

The ELCA, the denomination this congregation is apart of, even has this great slogan: God's work, our hands.  And I believe that.  No question.  And most of you believe that too.  The work many of you do serving the poor is informed by your Christian faith as well it should be. Soon after meeting Matthew I heard from the pulpit of a Lutheran church that we are the only feet and hands that Christ has so we are to be little Christs out in the world.  And to a large extent this is true.   God's Work, our hands…absolutely. So I could preach a sermon about how actually giving a crap about the poor is part of following Jesus.  But most of you already are on board with that.

And as tempting as it seems when we read a Gospel text like this to think  Look!  Even Jesus agrees with us!  We are probably missing something…and we can so easily replace the conservative personal morality insurance plan for the hereafter checklist with a liberal social justice, here's what Christianity REALLY means checklist.  Either way we end up not really needing Jesus so much as needing to make sure we successfully complete the right list of tasks.  Because in the end every form of Checklist Christianity leaves Jesus essentially idling in his van on the corner while we say "Thanks Jesus…but we can take it from here"

So while we as people of God are certainly called to feed the hungry and cloth the naked that whole Christian "We're blessed to be a blessing" thing can be kinda dangerous.  It can be dangerous when it starts to feel like we are placing ourselves above the world waiting to descend on those below so we can to be the "blessing" they've been waiting for like it or not. It can so easily become a well-meaning but insidious blend of benevolence and paternalism.  It can so easily become pimping the poor so that we can feel like we are being good little Christs for them.  

So this week I had these dangers in the back of my head as I read Matthew 25 a little closer and I realized this: Jesus says I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me. Which means…Christ comes not in the form of those who feed the hungry but in the hungry being fed.  Christ comes not in the form of those who visit the imprisioned but in the imprisoned being cared for.  And to be clear, Christ does not come to us AS the poor and hungry. Because as anyone for whom the poor are not an abstraction but actual flesh and blood people knows…the poor and hungry and imprisoned are not a romantic special class of Christ like people.  And those who meet their needs are not a romantic special class of Christ like people.  We all are equally as Sinful and Saintly as the other.  No, Christ comes to us IN the needs of the poor and hungry,  needs that are met by another so that the gleaming redemption of God might be known.  And we are all the needy and the ones who meet needs.  Placing ourselves or anyone else in only one category or another is to tell ourselves the wrong story entirely.

As many of you know I was at the funeral this Monday of Cythia Burnside.  Wife of bishop Bruce Burnside. I met Bruce at the ELCA church-wide assembly and had preached about that the following Sunday.  I preached about how he and I had sat next to each other at a worship service where I discovered that his wife had been diagnosed with stage 4 cancer a month before. During  a particularly un-singable hymn that I was distracted by hating…I realized he was crying. So, throwing my snotty opinions about church music aside I just had to sing that terrible hymn twice as loud because my grieving brother in Christ couldn't sing.  After the liturgy ended, even though I was a new pastor he had just met and he was a bishop I asked him if he would like for me to pray for him and anoint him with oil and his eyes teared up and he said thank you yes.  I committed to pray for him every day since and checked in occasionally via text message and email.  At his wife's funeral Monday I asked him "Who pastors Bishops?" He whispered "no one"   So here's the thing…I don't really think I was the one who allowed Christ to be revealed in this encounter… it was Bruce.  Because Bruce allowed himself to bear a need that someone else could, however imperfectly meet.  And when the grief of our brother was cared about Jesus was cared about.

I'm not a great example of this. I hate asking for help.  Clearly not in terms of setting up chairs or baking bread for communion.  I mean, if I am hurting or in pain it's like torture to admit it and even worse to humble myself to ask for help.  It's as though I think that I am not deserving of the care I give others which, of course, is totally arrogant.  So I wonder in this text about how we withhold Christ from each other when we pretend we have no need.  When we are only the ones being the blessing to others do we keep Christ from being revealed in our own needs that could be met by another.

Because I just don't think the economy of grace includes 2 separate classes of people, one who hunger and one who offer food.  The fact is, we are all both sheep and goat.  We are both bearers of the Gospel and receivers of it.  We meet the needs of others and have our needs met.  And the strangeness of the good news is that, like those who sat before the throne and said huh? when did we ever feed you Lord?,  we never know when it is that we touch Jesus in all of  this. All that we have is a promise, a promise that your needs are holy to God.  A Promise that Jesus is present in the meeting of needs and that his kingdom is here.  And that he's a different kind of king who rules over a different kind of kingdom.   Because it looks more like being thirsty and having someone you don't even like give you water more than it looks like polishing a crown. It looks like giving my three extra coats to the trinity of junkies on the corner than it looks like ermine trimmed robes. That is the surprising scandal of the Gospel; the surprising scandal of the Kingdom:  it looks like the same crappy mess that bumps us out of our unconscious addiction to being good, so that you can look at Jesus as he approaches you on the street and says, man, You look like you could use a good meal.

Romans 3:19-28 19Now we know that whatever the law says, it speaks to those who are under the law, so that every mouth may be silenced, and the whole world may be held accountable to God.20For "no human being will be justified in his sight" by deeds prescribed by the law, for through the law comes the knowledge of sin.
21But now, apart from law, the righteousness of God has been disclosed, and is attested by the law and the prophets, 22the righteousness of God through faith in Jesus Christ for all who believe. For there is no distinction, 23since all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God; 24they are now justified by his grace as a gift, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus, 25whom God put forward as a sacrifice of atonement by his blood, effective through faith. He did this to show his righteousness, because in his divine forbearance he had passed over the sins previously committed; 26it was to prove at the present time that he himself is righteous and that he justifies the one who has faith in Jesus.
27Then what becomes of boasting? It is excluded. By what law? By that of works? No, but by the law of faith. 28For we hold that a person is justified by faith apart from works prescribed by the law.

 

John 8:31-36  31Then Jesus said to the Jews who had believed in him, "If you continue in my word, you are truly my disciples; 32and you will know the truth, and the truth will make you free."33They answered him, "We are descendants of Abraham and have never been slaves to anyone. What do you mean by saying, 'You will be made free'?"
34Jesus answered them, "Very truly, I tell you, everyone who commits sin is a slave to sin. 35The slave does not have a permanent place in the household; the son has a place there forever. 36So if the Son makes you free, you will be free indeed.

 

I was a rebellious teenager and couldn't wait to be free from the tyranny of Dick and Peggy, my parents.  I pictured being able to stay out as long as I wanted, eat and drink whatever I wanted, and spend time with whomever I wanted.  All I wanted was freedom. And as soon as I was unleashed from the grip of parenting I would be free to have as much fun as I could cram into a 24 hour day.  That day finally came and yet, strangely there still was no freedom.  For I had exchanged one form of bondage for another.  Yet now it was bondage to self.  In my late teens and 20s I just lived under the tyranny of my own selfish desires instead of the tyranny of my parents and I was far from free.    I always thought freedom meant being able to do whatever I wanted but if that's freedom then I was lied to. It ends up that real freedom is not the same as unfettered access to personal choices. Freedom in the form of me getting to do whatever I want is still being enslaved.  Because selfishness is still a cruel master.

I mention this because in our readings for today Jesus claims that he will make us free.  It's just that I don't think he means that he will create an environment where we get to be our own boss and do whatever we want. Plus when it comes to knowing the truth of what we are in bondage to and the truth of what real freedom looks like we often get things wrong. 

This is what we see in the text we read from John's Gospel.  We know that Jesus is talking to some of his fellow Jews when he says his famous line "you will know the truth and the truth will set you free".  And then they're like "Oh yeah, we're descendants of Abraham and have never been slaves to anyone".  Um, are you sure?  Babylon ring a bell….or, I don't know… Egypt?  what exactly was it that Moses led your people out of? A carnival? no.  it was slavery.

Rather than give a history lesson, Jesus uses the opportunity to make the point that we are actually slaves to sin.  And that weird denial of reality in which we say "Well, it's not like we've ever been slaves" simply points to the delusions we all seem to have. In some circles those delusions are called Denial. And denial is a wonderful thing…until it's not. My daughter Harper was a defiant and willful toddler.  I'm sure you're shocked.  I know my parents were delighted. Anyhow, when she was 3 and we were about to go on a 2 hour car ride we told her she needed to go to the bathroom first.  Not liking being told what to do she become recalcitrant.  When I said honey you have to go pee.  She stomped her foot and said No! Never!  This I can relate to.  I want to create my own freedom but when I do it just always seems to be just another form of bandage.

So when we are offered real freedom it's like Jesus is saying exactly what is it that God leads you out of?  a carnival? no.  It's our bondage to sin from which we cannot free ourselves.

But in an age of self care and therapy and high self esteem (and there is nothing wrong with these things per se) but in such an age, and especially in the so-called progressive church, sin is not a popular topic.  As a matter of fact, in the church planting business these days, there is a trend toward eliminating any talk of sin at all…including the confession and absolution at the beginning of our liturgies.  Why?  Because it's too negative.  People don't want to hear they are sinners. Partly because they think saying you are a sinner is just having really low self esteem.  But in all fairness our discomfort with the term sin stems partly from the fact that the term has so often been abused and misused in the church.  Especially when sin is preached as something totally avoidable by good people.  Immorality is pretty avoidable…sin is not.  My suspicion is that when people hear "you are a sinner" what they really hear is, "you are immoral"  and if you are someone who doesn't cheat on their taxes or their spouse and doesn't murder or steal then you understandably don't want to spend your Sunday morning having someone imply that you do. But sin, Martin Luther reminds us, is bigger than simple immorality.  Sin is being curved in on self without a thought for God or the neighbor. It can be alcoholism or passive aggression.  It can be the hateful things we think but never say or it can be adultery or it can be that feeling of superiority when we are helping others.  Our being curved in on ourselves will fashion itself in endless variety.  Pretending otherwise just never helps.

See, that's the thing about truth…Truth…when it is real can cut deep and heal at the same time.  And Jesus says that truth brings freedom.  Freedom from having to pretend , freedom from having to defend, freedom from having to protect. And hearing the truth that we are in bondage to self and that no amount of trying to be good can change that cuts deep but it also heals. It heals because it simply gives us no choice but to be placed in the loving arms of Jesus, the great physician who heals through grace.

Martin Luther, in a letter to another preacher said "if grace is true, you must bear a true and not a fictitious sin. God does not save people who are only fictitious sinners. Be a sinner and sin boldly, but believe and rejoice in Christ even more boldly." That's the other side of the truth coin.  Yes, you are a sinner.  But you are also a saint. Fully made new and alive in Christ. We are all simultaneously sinners AND saints. But sometimes being told that you are a saint can be just as hard to hear as you are a sinner.

You are a real and not a fictitious sinners and you are objects of God's real and not fictitious grace.

See, Jesus brings real truth and real freedom. He isn't just sitting in heaven waiting to see if we can pull off the impossible thing of becoming righteous on our own and then condemning us for our inevitable failure.  Jesus subverts the entire paradigm.  Because Jesus actually IS our righteousness.  Despite our lumpy broken lives, we are righteous before God.  But our righteousness is that of a Merciful and gracious God who comes to us in the vulnerability and suffering revealed in the cradle and cross. And the thing is….with the righteousness of Christ there is no extra credit to be obtained. It just is. 

So the truth that sets you free is so much more than the truth of your personal and our societal sin.  The truth that sets you free is also the truth of your unbelievable beauty and saintliness. 

Because it is always the truth of who we are coupled with the truth of who God is that sets us free. And I'm in it for the freedom.  And we are given not just the freedom FROM sin and death…we are without question given the freedom FOR the neighbor. 

         People often give House for All Sinners and Saints puzzled looks. They sometimes furrow their brow and tilt their heads and say Why do you bless bicycles and bring thanksgiving lunches to strippers and assemble bleach kits for IV drug users and sing hymns in bars.  And smiling I always say "I don't know. Because we're free?".

 
**

 

Matthew 22:1-14

Once more Jesus spoke to them in parables, saying:  2The kingdom of heaven may be compared to a king who gave a wedding banquet for his son.  3He sent his slaves to call those who had been invited to the wedding banquet, but they would not come.  4Again he sent other slaves, saying, 'Tell those who have been invited: Look, I have prepared my dinner, my oxen and my fat calves have been slaughtered, and everything is ready; come to the wedding banquet.'  5But they made light of it and went away, one to his farm, another to his business,  6while the rest seized his slaves, mistreated them, and killed them.  7The king was enraged. He sent his troops, destroyed those murderers, and burned their city.  8Then he said to his slaves, 'The wedding is ready, but those invited were not worthy.  9Go therefore into the main streets, and invite everyone you find to the wedding banquet.'  10Those slaves went out into the streets and gathered all whom they found, both good and bad; so the wedding hall was filled with guests.

11But when the king came in to see the guests, he noticed a man there who was not wearing a wedding robe,  12and he said to him, 'Friend, how did you get in here without a wedding robe?' And he was speechless.  13Then the king said to the attendants, 'Bind him hand and foot, and throw him into the outer darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.'  14For many are called, but few are chosen."

When my mom and dad returned from visiting Israel and Palestine, they told me that sometimes nice unsuspecting Christians from the West fall for a little scam.  Apparently they buy tours of Biblical sites that include a visit to the very road where the Good Samaritan helped the man beaten by thieves.  This seems like it would really complete a trip to the Holy Land until you realize that the Good Samaritan was a parable. It would be like selling tickets to see the childhood home of the Billy Goats Gruff. 

But our desire to believe that there is an actual road we could visit where the Good Samaritan helped the beaten man points to our desire to domesticate parables into something understandable and unchanged that we can take snap shots of ourselves standing in front of while on vacation.

But that's not what parables are – they are metaphoric speech, part riddle, part joke, part fable and totally unsolvable.  And they can be maddening which is why throughout Christian history people have tried to define what each one means and neatly allegorize them so they are less mysterious – which, for the record is like trying to nail jello to a tree.

But I understand wanting to simplify parables into something small and understandable - preferably with a moral lesson tacked onto the end. Yet what makes Jesus' parables so powerful is that they are endless sources of meaning… but we have to be willing to keep tilting our head in different directions to see them anew.  And this week, with this parable I just couldn't seem to tilt my head enough.

Because our parable for today is a real doozy.  Here's how I heard it: A king throws a wedding banquet and invites the other rich, slave-owning powerful people. Seemingly unimpressed by the promised veal cutlet at the wedding feast, the elite invitees laugh at the invitation and proceed to abuse and then kill the slaves of the king.  Well then the king kills them back.  But he doesn't stop there, not to be outdone, he burns down the city… and it is there amidst the burning carnage of the newly destroyed city he sends more slaves to go find whoever they can to fill the seats. After all…the food is ready and he has all these fancy robes for the guests. All he cares about is having every seat filled at his big party.  But who is left?  He burned the city. The rich and powerful have been murdered so it's the regular folks wandering the streets looking for their dead, picking apart the charred debris of their burned city who are then told that they have no choice but to go to the party of the guy responsible.   and it's already been established that he doesn't respond well if you turn him down.  So the terrified masses show up and pretend that this capricious tyrant didn't just lay waste to their city.  Out of fear they all dutifully put on their wedding robes given them at the door and they pretend. Slipping on a gorgeous garment was what you did for a king's wedding feast. And the guests got to keep the outfits, just a little souvenir of the king's generosity - and a reminder to keep in line. You don't get anything from the empire without it costing you a bit of your life. 

Well, our story ends with these well dressed survivors looking on as the King spots the one guy at the banquet who isn't wearing a wedding robe.  And when the innocent man has nothing to say for himself the king has this scapegoat hogtied and thrown into the outer darkness. Many are called but few are chosen he says.

         Now, that is clearly the Nadia International Version of the parable but I think my hearing of it is really influenced by what's happening in the world right now.        

Because this week- months after the Arab Spring,  and after weeks of the growing wall street occupation well,  – in this climate of discontent and dissent as we all begin to wake from our consumer induced coma to see how multi national corporations control so much more than we can imagine, in a season when tyrants are being over thrown, I simply could not preach a sermon in which I say that God is like an angry murderous slave owning king. Maybe there is a way of finding good news in that but I just couldn't do it. 

Instead, I started to wonder:  why is it that we want to think that in parables God is always the rich man, the ruler, the slave owner, the tyrant.  Maybe its because we've been told that God is on the side of victory and winning and power and empire.  But that's just not the God we see revealed in Jesus Christ.  St. Matthew – whose gospel this parable was taken from, well, Matthew is always contrasting the kingdom of empire with the kingdom of heaven.

So what if the hero is the guy who wouldn't don the king's wedding robe?  What if kingdom of heaven is like someone who shows up and says no to empire.  Who stands speechless before his accusers…what if the kingdom of heaven is like someone who is made a scapegoat for others because we are too scared to speak the truth?  What if the kingdom of heaven is like someone who is hog tied for not participating in the charade of pretending God is OK with the powerful victimizing the weak.  What if the kingdom of heaven is like someone who is thrown by the empire into the outer-darkness and what if the name of that outer darkness is Calvary.

Because If there is a king in the Gospel that looks anything like the God that we gather to worship, it looks like the King called Jesus; the one who came not to be served, but to serve and to offer his life in exchange for our death. If there is a king in the Gospel that looks anything like the God that we gather to worship it looks like the King called Jesus; the one who was the unexpected embodiment of truth – the kind of truth that disarms the powerful.

All of the promises of empire - jobs, security, national strength, economic prosperity - all come with a cost.  I cannot even begin to examine the ways in which I am both victimized by and complicit in the ways of empire. But Jesus doesn't play the games of empire. He choses a way that looks like complete failure through the eyes of empire, but which is the way of forgiveness, mercy, peace and life. Jesus takes on the brutality of the empire and defeats it. He defeats it for us, so that we can live in the way of life even amidst the rubble of empire – even amidst all the ways we suffer on account of empire and all the ways we benefit from it. Because the kingdom of heaven is like: a first century Jewish peasant who laughed at the powerful, kissed lepers, befriended prostitutes and ate with all the wrong people and whom the authorities and the powerful elite had to hog tie and throw into the outer darkness.  What if the kingdom of heaven is like Jesus.  And what if it is from this place of outer darkness that everything is changed?  In the outer darkness of Calvary where death is swallowed up forever.

Listen today to the words that will introduce the passing of the peace  later in the liturgy:

He will not command legions of angels

nor ride the machine of holy war;

he will become a slave,

take our hate into his heart

and win us with forgiveness,

for he is God's unexpected peace.

AMEN

*I would be remiss were I not to aknowledge how much Debbie Blue's post this week on The Hardest Question inspired this sermon.  As did my sermonating conversations with Paul Fromberg from St Gregory Of Nyssa in San Fransisco. 

 **image from St Cecillia Catholic Church in Detroit

My apologies for taking so long to post this, but here is the rite we used at Baptism of our Lord Sunday when a transgendered member of House for All Sinners and Saints was undergoing a name change.  This is largely taken from a rite shared with me by Episcopal priest, Michele Morgan

One really lovely thing about this day was that Asher made a little shrine to his previously female self, Mary.  It included the whole name lovingly written out, several photos and a candle. 

(Prayers of the People)

Presider:

Holy One of Blessing, in baptism you bring us to new life in

Jesus Christ and you name us Beloved. We give you thanks for the renewal

of that life and love in Mary Christine Callahan, who now takes on a new name.

Strengthen and uphold him as he grows in power, and authority, and

meaning of this name: we pray in the Name above names, Jesus, your Son,

whom with you and the Holy Spirit, the Triune God, we adore. Amen

(Lindsey) A reading from the letter of Paul to the Galatians.

There is no longer Jew or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no

longer male and female; for all are one in Christ Jesus

The word of the Lord

Thanks be to God

(Laying on of hands)

Let us pray:

We pray for your servant Asher, with thanks for the journey and awakening that

have brought him to this moment, for his place amongst your

people, and for his gifts and calling to serve you.

O God, in renaming your servants Abraham, Sarah, Jacob, Peter,

and Paul, you gave them new lives and new tasks, new love and new hope.

We now hold before you our companion. Bless him with a new measure

of grace as he takes this new name. Write him again in your

heart and on your palm. And grant that we all be worthy to call ourselves

Christians, for the sake of your Christ whose name is Love, and in whom,

with you and the Spirit, we pray. Amen

The Giving of the name

Pr. Nadia: By what name shall you be known? 

Kate: The name shall be Asher  

Asher:  My name is Asher

The community may respond by repeating

Your name shall be Asher

Pr. Nadia: Bear this name in the Name of Christ. Share it in the name of Mercy. Offer it

in the name of Justice.

Christ is among us making peace right here right now.  The peace of Christ be with you all. And also with you.  

Genesis 50:15-21

Matthew 18:21-35

When I was growing up, there was a house down the street from us which had slightly tattered window coverings and the front lawn was like a graveyard of broken things.  Posted on the fence was a "No trespassing" sign.  I remember asking my mother what trespassing was so I could be certain not to do it to anyone who lived in that weird house.  When she explained that it meant going into their yard uninvited I thought no problem.  Soon after that when I first learned the Lord's Prayer I thought it was weird that out of all the sins that Jesus would suggest we ask God to forgive it would be our trespassing.  I pretty much made it a policy to stay out of strange yards and no one seemed to wander into ours uninvited so I thought I was covered.  Only later did I realize that trespassing was only one of countless was to trespass against others.  And now I get it – kind of. Forgive us our sins as we forgive those who sin against us.  Jesus always seems to be pairing God's forgiveness of us with our forgiveness of others.

         But why?  why is he always pairing them together?  I kind of always  thought that it was a way of guilting us into forgiving others – like the parable from today – hey, I forgave you 3 trillion dollars and because of that you should feel not just bad, but tortured if you don't then in turn forgive the 200 bucks that other guy owes you.  Like Jesus was saying hey, I died for you and you can't even be nice to your little brother?  As though God can get us to do the right thing if God can just make us feel bad about how much we owe God. But that just doesn't seem to me to be the God revealed in Jesus Christ.  That seems like a manipulative mother. 

And these questions about what forgiveness really is and why is it so important that we do it was all happening for me this week amidst all the remembrances of 9-11.  I kept reading and re-reading these Bible passages about forgiveness and every time I'd take a break my tv or computer was filled with images of burning towers. Which made me wonder…can evil be forgiven?

Now that I've mentioned evil here's a disclaimer: this sermon will in no way answer the question of why a loving God allows evil and suffering.  But mark your calendars because That's the topic at theology pub this Tuesday.  which brings me to disclaimer #2: it won't be answered there either.

Our human culture would say that evil is fought through justice and might.  The way we combat evil is by making sure that people get what they have coming to them is.  An eye for an eye.  You attack me and I'll attack you. Fair is fair.  And there are times in my own life when I've been hurt that I'm sure retaliation would make me feel better.  But then when I can't harm the person who harmed me I just end up harming the people who love me.  So maybe retaliation or holding on to anger about the harm done to us or living in fear of it happening again doesn't actually combat evil. It feeds it. In the end we can actually absorb the worst of our enemy and on some level become endangered of even becoming them. Because it would seem that when we are sinned against, when someone else does us harm that we are in some way linked to that sin, connected to that mistreatment like a chain through which we absorb it. And we know that our anger, fear or resentment doesn't free us at all…it just keeps us chained.  And evil persists.  Sin abounds. Brokenness prevails.

Of so it would seem.  But Richard Rohr reminds us that we can tell a lot by what a person does with their suffering: do they transmit it or do they transform it. So while it's true that God may not prevent evil and we may never fully understand why… God does have a way of combating evil.  It's not punishment and it's not retaliation, fear or anger.  It's forgiveness.  Forgiveness is God's way of combating evil. 

Of course this offends our impulses for justice or retaliation like mercy always will.  But that's the God revealed in Jesus for you.  Like it or not this is what we see at the cross.  At Calvary God allows our human system of scape-goating, fear, and retaliation to play its natural course, which ended as it always does: in the suffering of God.  And then in turn, God shows us God's  system by not even lifting a finger to condemn those who put him on the cross but instead proclaiming, of all things,  forgiveness.  In doing so he cuts the world loose from our own sin because Jesus can't stand to see us chained to it. At Calvary we see our God entering deeply into the suffering caused by human evil and saying this. ends. here. - I will not transmit it.

We are cut loose.  God's forgivness is like giant bolt-cutters.  And then God says go and do likewise.  Forgive as you have been forgiven. Cut others loose too.  Jesus commands it.  He commands us to forgive just as he commends us to love.  It's not actually a suggestion.

But the problem with this is: doesn't forgiving a sin against us or an evil done to many come perilously close to saying that what they did was ok?  Isn't forgiving over and over just the thing that keeps battered women battered?

This week as I was thinking about these passages I thought that maybe forgiveness is actually the opposite of saying that what someone has done is ok…it's saying it's so not ok that I am not going to absorb it any more. I simply won't be tied to it.  What happened on 9-11 was NOT ok.  That's why we need to forgive.  Because we can't be bound to that kind of evil.  Lest it find the evil in our own hearts and make it's home there. 

Now, in all fairness I should say that I myself don't naturally have a forgiving heart.  I love a good resentment as much as the next gal, and if I can go on a rant and get other people to see what an ass that person is then all the better.  Holding onto a grudge or a resentment can feel like a big delicious feast that I can return to again and again until I realize I am the main course.  Our refusal to forgive can eat us alive.

So if there is someone who you feel you just can't forgive think about how much that resentment is continuing to tie you to them and know that God wants you free from what was done to you.  So here's what you do…. reach for the bolt-cutters.  Because, when we forgive someone, it's not an act of niceness, it's not being a doormat,  it's an act of fidelity to God's evil-combating campaign.  Forgiveness is an act of fidelity to the kingdom of God and a defiant stance against the forces of evil – even the evil in our own hearts. And in turn when we are forgiven by someone else we are set free because they are saying they will no longer be bound to the harm we did them. 

In all fairness I should say that this is just the kinda thing that got Jesus killed -that he was going around telling people they were forgiven.  He went about freeing people, cutting them loose. And that kind of freedom is always seen as threatening.

The world doesn't always like this kind of thing.  Just ask my friend Don – the Lutheran Pastor who lost his job for doing Dylan Klebold's Funeral.  Dylan Klebold was one of the Columbine shooters and Don had the gall to think that the promises committed to Dylan by God at his baptism were more powerful than the transmission of evil committed by the teen. I don't see that as saying what Dylan Klebold did was ok.  I see that as a defiant proclamation that evil is simply not more powerful than good and that there really is a light that shines in the darkness and that the darkness can not, will not, shall not overcome it. 

(adapted from a sermon given at HFASS the 1st Sunday of Christmas)

Anyone who knows me can tell you that I didn't get what I wanted this year for my birthday.  No, not an ipad or world peace.  What I really wanted is a new back because my is wrecked.  At the age of 42 I have a disk in my back that is so degenerated that I can't stand for more than about 15 minutes without being in pain.  I mention this because in our Gospel reading for today we hear that  In the beginning was the Word and The Word was with God and the Word was God And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us. Which is basically a way of saying that God decided to have …of all things…a human body. 

We Christians have a long history of finding this idea disturbing. There was an early Christian heresy called Docetism and I'm not totally convinced that I myself would not have been a docetist given the opportunity.  You see, they were so certain that spirit and flesh could not exist as One that they convinced themselves that Jesus didn't really have a human body…it just seemed that way.  Docetists claimed that Jesus only appeared to be a physical being.   And I get the impulse behind docetism because really, no self-respecting God would become a human when being human means being irretrievably fragile. What can it mean that God would slip into the vulnerability of skin and be made flesh? Seems a lousy idea in a way, given the very sloppy and broken reality of our physical lives as humans.  Our bodies bruise and decay and disappoint us, and sag insistently toward the earth so why in the world would God not spare God's self the indignity of  having things like sweat glands and the hiccups?

The Psalmist reminds us that God knit us together in our mother's womb and that we are fearfully and wonderfully made.  Of course I see at least 2 barriers to really really believing this.  Firstly there is the fact that as a middle aged woman my body seems to be deteriorating right before my eyes. How wonderfully and fearfully made is a body which ages, or grows fat, or develops cancer or no longer produces insulin? What am I supposed to do with a body that's going to die ?? The other barrier to believing our bodies are fearfully and wonderfully made is that we are quite bombarded by messages otherwise.  Messages from every billboard we see or commercial we hear. Convincing you that a) your body is bad and b) your body can be "perfect" if you buy a certain product…and let there be no mistake, this is a billion dollar industry.

Our youth-obsessed body-improvement culture in which we find ourselves tells us that we can actually avoid any appearance of our own mortality through the right combination of elective surgery and Pilates. IN the end this is nothing but a simple fear of death itself.  But what God tells us in the birth, life, death and resurrection of Christ is that we need not fear our mortality in the first place because it simply is not the final word.  Death has no sting when it cannot separate us from the love of God in Christ.  So we need not fear it. nor deny it.

So this week as you leave here I invite you to take notice every time you see or hear a message about body improvement.  Every pill, or exercise machine, or special gym membership, or tanning bed… every liposuction clinic and celebrity endorsed diet plan.  All of it.  Notice the obsession our culture has with stretching and tanning and increasing and decreasing our flesh into submission to some sort of bizarre ideal.  Then in contrast, notice every time this week that you see or hear this: And the Word became flesh and lived among us, in this we have seen God's glory, full of grace and truth…you have received the power to be Children of God.  Through the fullness of God's Word made flesh you have received grace upon grace.

That is a different message entirely. 

We may want a "spirituality" of pure transcendence  which rises above our broken physical reality.   But in Jesus we see that a physical life is a spiritual life…

John's gospel bears witness not to an ethereal disembodied deity but to a sensual God -  The Word became flesh and  washed human feet, and smelled luxurious perfume, and tasted abundant wine.  When Jesus wanted to heal the blind man he didn't use good vibes or send positive energy, he used spit and dirt. Very real tears of salt ran down Jesus face, as he smelled the stink of death on Lazarus the one he called friend.  Jesus' very own flesh tore when he was beaten and crucified - and even in his resurrection he had a real body - when he rose from the dead he told Thomas to touch his wounded side,  one that bore the scars of having lived.  Then, as one of his final acts on Earth the guy ate grilled fish on a beach with his friends. 

The Word became flesh and dwelt among us.  God came and made God's home with us and in a real body. I think when we as people of faith hear the term Dreams of Home we tend to think of heaven and an ethereal disembodied reality after our bodies die but the thing is, this text in John says that the Word was made flesh and dwelt among us but the Greek for dwelt is also tabernacled…the Word was made flesh and made a sacred home with us. God is at home in our bodies, as imperfect as they may be.

So I wonder if maybe in the incarnation God has done nothing less than blessed all human flesh.  Blessed it, not made it into our version of perfect. Perfection as we picture it and as it relates to human bodies is impossible.  And perhaps the striving for an impossible perfection is a profound distraction from the way in which we are children born of God.  Because as we know, the perfect is so often the enemy of the good. And even God, having finished creating the physical world, including the human form, called it good.  not perfect mind you, but good. so, let us remember that our good and imperfect bodies are born of God and so we have no business calling what God pronounced good anything but good. Because if the Word became flesh and lived among us ~ then despite our botoxic quest for the illusion of perfection, your body is beautiful to God.

Because Jesus came and in his almost disturbingly physical existence showed us what God looks like, not in some ethereal alternate spiritual plane but right here in the midst of our physical, embodied earthy reality.  Jesus said here's what being born of God looks like… it looks like not worrying about what we're to eat or drink; it looks like loving the bodies of other people who, like us, will die; it looks like touching human flesh as if it's holy instead of worrying that it's unclean, and it looks like what we are about to do: it for sure looks like breaking bread and drinking wine with all the wrong people. 

This is a religion of God revealed in the vulnerability of newborn flesh in a cradle and in heartbreak of  broken flesh on a cross. So if God saw fit to wear our native garb should we not bless and care for our own flesh?  as well as for the other bodies that God loves? Should we not have concern for any violation or starvation or trafficking of any human bodies?

As we leave Greenbelt full of optimism and resolution let us remember that there is a reality beyond our individual self-improvement, beyond our attempts to deny our mortality, beyond our attempts to pretend we are not flesh and blood. The Word was made flesh and dwelt among us, and we were given grace upon grace to become children of God and in doing so you, dear people of God, You are now flesh become Word.   You in your embodied fragile glory are God's healing Word for a hurt and broken and beautiful word. You as Christ's body are no longer about the fear of death or the denial of death but about life and life abundant. You as Christ's body are becoming flesh made Word, being made into God's beautiful and loving intention for the world God created and called good. In the name of Jesus, Amen.

It's Jesus walking on the water Sunday here at House for All Sinners and Saints and we thought maybe during Open Space we should have a kiddie pool set up in the back so you could all "test your faith".  You know – go ahead and give it the old Christian try.  That's how I've always heard this story preached:  like it's the Little Engine Who Could Have.  As a matter of fact,  here's a 1 minute version of the sermon I just don't have the stomach to preach to you….it might sound familiar: The disciples are in a little boat battered by waves, they see Jesus walking toward them and for a moment, Peter is a hero.  He steps out of the boat and has sufficient faith to walk on water.  He actually does it.  Peter musters up what it takes to be God-like and what it takes is faith.  Lots and lots of faith.   Because with enough faith you can walk on water all the way to Jesus. If you had enough faith you could do it too.  And maybe even better than Peter. Because Peter's only mistake was that he took his eyes off Jesus and that's why he sunk.   So the moral of the story, and of course every Bible story is about how to be moral…so the how to be moral of this story is that if you in your life are not God-like in your ability to financially prosper or overcome all your failings as a human or defy the forces of nature and walk on water then the problem is that you don't have enough faith and you should really muster up some more because the thing is, it's all up to you to make your way to Jesus.  So, don't be afraid.  Get out of the boat but be better at it than St Peter and don't take your eyes off of Jesus. You can do it if you really try. End of sermon.  And good luck with that.         

          OK, this is a cynical view even for me, but it's honest.  Yet I know that having a preacher tell me that the solution to my problems is to just try and have more faith – so I can make my way to Jesus never sounds like good news to me.  It reminds me of The Simpson's episode where square jawed newscaster Ken Brockman made a set of motivational tapes called "get confident stupid!".  In the end, I just don't know how helpful is to say "get faith sinner".  It doesn't work. 

But the weird thing is, here you all are. Gathered again around this story of the man who walks on water.  Some of you are new to the story of Christ, and for some of you it formed who you are from the cradle. I could be wrong but I think maybe we aren't all here because some preacher exhorted us to  "have more faith".  I think we are here because at some point we heard the Story and the story claimed us. At some point, someone told you the story about this God who created the universe, who spoke through prophets, who came to us in Jesus, who ate with sinners and scoffed at the powerful, who suffered and died and rose again and calls us out of our of own graves to new life.   And here's the thing about stories…  they tell us who we are. Sometimes a story can tell us what to do but when we hear who we are we then know what to do and God's story found in the Bible does this more than any other story can.

And I guess this particular story of Jesus walking on water can be reduced to a moral about having more faith.  But, like so much of the Bible, it can also be a way to see who we are and see who God is for us. 

See if you recognize yourself in this story: Because maybe some of us are like the ones in the boat who are afraid. Maybe you are so caught up in the fear of making the wrong decision that you can't make any decision at all. Or maybe you are like the one experiencing the thrill of stepping into the unknown -  a new relationship or a new job or you've just moved to Denver leaving behind the familiar - and maybe the first few steps are ok but then it gets scary.  Or maybe you or the person next to you is the one who is sinking in debt or depression or maybe you feel like you're sinking because what you could handle last month you just can't handle now. Or maybe you're the one who knows you're doomed, knows that all your own efforts have failed and you are crying out to God to save you and you're the ones who Jesus has reached down to catch and you're clinging on to the sweet hand of Jesus with all you've got.  or maybe you're the one in the boat looking in wonder all you've just seen… you're the one who bears witness to the miracle and danger of it all and how the hand of God reaches down and pulls us up and you see it and can't help but say "truly this is God." At some point or other I know I have been all of the above.

Yet, a lot of what I've heard in the church both with this story and with so many others is not who I am but who I should be.  I should be the one with enough faith to walk on water.  I should be the one whose eyes are always always on Jesus. I should be the one who makes my way to Jesus.

But all these characters in the walking on water story – the cautious ones in the boat, the brave one who walked for a time on water, the same one who is afraid and sinks and calls for help, and the ones who saw it all and confessed that Jesus is the son of God they are all actually equal in their relationship to God because…all of these and you have one thing in common: they are those whom Jesus draws near saying "it is I, do not be afraid".  The glamorous part of this story is that Peter walked on water. Which I admit is pretty cool. And maybe he almost had enough faith to make his way to Jesus.  But what happens on either side of his short little water walk?  Jesus comes toward HIM.  In the storm Jesus is walking toward the boat, when Peter sinks Jesus is reaching toward Peter then he comes so much toward them all that finally he just gets in the damn boat.  That's about as with them as he can be. Yet we seem to always focus on Peter walking toward Jesus when the whole story is about how much jesus walks toward them reaches toward them and then even gets in the boat with them.

We might see the moral of the story as "you should have so much faith that you can walk on water toward Jesus" but the truth of this story is that Jesus walks toward us. The truth of the story is that my abundance of faith or lack of faith does not deter God from drawing close.  That even if you are scared to death you can say Lord Save Me and the hand of God will find you in even the darkest waters.  Because this is a story not of morals but of movement. Not of heros of the faith making their way to Christ but of Christ drawing near to you in the midst of fear.  As our reading from Romans says the Word of God is near to you – on your hearts and in your lips.  And for us for today, I would say the Word of God that was made flash and dwelt among us in Jesus the Christ draws near to you.  He is written on your hearts and is proclaimed from your lips.  He walks toward you saying "It is I, do not be afraid"  and God reaches down when you call his name and as Paul wrote to the Romans Everyone who calls on the name of the Lord shall be saved.

14But – he writes - how are they to call on one in whom they have not believed? And how are they to believe in one of whom they have never heard? And how are they to hear without someone to proclaim him? 15And how are they to proclaim him unless they are sent? As it is written, "How beautiful are the feet of those who bring good news!"

So. There is actually a kiddie pool in back filled with water and scented oil. I invite you during open space or during communion not to try and walk on it, but to dip your feet in as a blessing.  Feel the cool of the calm waters and know that yours are the beautiful feet of they who have been sent to tell the story of who you are and who God is….and  you tell the story of God so that you and others might call out Lord save us as we continually die and rise in the waters of our baptism. Do not be afraid.  For that is your beautiful story.

Matthew 13

1He put before them another parable: "The kingdom of heaven is like a mustard seed that someone took and sowed in his field; 32it is the smallest of all the seeds, but when it has grown it is the greatest of shrubs and becomes a tree, so that the birds of the air come and make nests in its branches."

33He told them another parable: "The kingdom of heaven is like yeast that a woman took and mixed in with three measures of flour until all of it was leavened."
44The kingdom of heaven is like treasure hidden in a field, which someone found and hid; then in his joy he goes and sells all that he has and buys that field.
45Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a merchant in search of fine pearls; 46on finding one pearl of great value, he went and sold all that he had and bought it.

 

It's been a rough weekend.  Watching the devastation that the combination of mental illness and fundamentalism brought to the people of Norway.  Watching what the combination of drug addiction and fame brought to a talented singer, who, like so many who went before her, is now dead at the age of 27.  Something they don't tell you when you get clean and sober is that if, by the grace of God, you manage to stay that way - you get a much better life - but year after year you also watch people you love die of the same disease.  So yesterday when I heard that Amy Winehouse had been found dead in her home it brought me back to 9 years ago when my dear friend PJ was also found dead in his home.  He was a brilliant stand up comic and an alcoholic and a series of medications had tugged and pulled at his mental illness but never seemed to really help it.  He sadly died by his own hand and in his own home. It too was senseless and tragic.  Yet strangely, whenever I hear these "The Kingdom of Heaven is like…" parables I always think of the week of PJ's death.  Because, these parables about the kingdom are so counter-intuative. 

Today we heard Jesus say that The kingdom of heaven is like a mustard seed that when it has grown becomes the greatest of all shrubs. Um, the greatest of all shrubs?  What kind of off-brand kingdom is this?   It's like saying someone is the smartest of all the idiots or the mightiest of all baby dolls. Yet he says Heaven's kingdom is like Shrubs, and nets and yeast  – and the yeast part might be the worst when you realize that yeast is considered impure – we're not talking little packets of Flieshman's we find at King Soopers – we're talking big lumps of mold which contaminate….and that in fact, Jews were required to  rid their entire house of yeast before celebrating some Holy Days.  

We mistakenly may think that the kingdom of God should follow our value system and also be powerful or impressive and shiny. But that's not what Jesus brings.  He brings a kingdom ruled by the crucified one – populated by the unclean, and suffused with mercy rather than power. And it's always found in the unexpected.  So when I hear Kingdom of Heaven parables and how it's found in the small and surprising and even the profane I think back to 2 days after PJ was found dead.  See, PJ grew up in a nice Catholic family from a small farming town in Iowa.  Not really sure how they got a darkly sardonic, filthy minded comic genius for a son but that's another story for another time.  See, 2 days after PJ's death a group of my friends, comics and depressives and recovering alcoholics – undertook a mission of compassion. They entered the home of our dead friend and they cleared out all the pornography.  Every Playboy and VHS tape.  All of it.  They wanted to spare these good folks any more pain then they were  already dealing with.   That to me is the inbreaking of the Kingdom of God on earth, that we might clear out the pornography from our dead friends' homes before their nice small town parents come to settle their son's affairs.  It's small, it's surprising and it's a little profane but it's the real thing.

         And I just think that if Jesus talked again and again about the kingdom of heaven and found any image available to tell us how to spot it, that us spotting it might be kinda of important.  And the reason it's important is that like in Handel's Messiah I believe there are 2 kingdoms. Remember the Alleluia chorus.? For the Lord God omnipotent reigneth.
|: Hallelujah! The kingdom of this world
Is become the kingdom of our Lord,
And of His Christ, And He shall reign for ever.

There is the kingdom of heaven and there is The kingdom of this world – not as in the world God created and called good, but the kingdom of this world we created for ourselves. The world according to us is the other kingdom.

I asked people on Facebook yesterday to fill in the blank, the Kingdom of this world is like

one said….a thick fog. It seems large, scary and impenetrable. But it is passing away.

The kingdom of this world is like a rich, good-looking guy who's stock portfolio is as breathtaking as his Italian loafers. 

The kingdom of this world is a seemingly impenetrable system of victim and victimizer, winner and loser, rich and poor.

And everything around us can feel like it's demanding our allegiance to the Kingdom of this world.  allegiance to the weight-loss industrial complex.  Allegiance to late-stage capitalism, allegiance to a worthyness based system of getting ahead in life.  The kingdom of this world wages an endless campaign for our loyalty. It's on billboards and magazines and the workplace and the TV and the messages we received about ourselves our whole lives …Luring us in with false promises.

And it all looks so darned shiny and promising and impressive. And at the same time it also looks like 27 year old singers found dead in their apartments and it looks like senseless violence in Norway. It feels inescapable. But here's what I'm sure of:  the promises of a human engineered kingdom are empty.  The kingdom of this world cannot save us.

But Jesus came to bring another kingdom.

See, when God could no longer be contained by heaven heaven came to Earth.  The love God had for the world God created overflowed the heavens and became incarnate in the person of Jesus Christ.  And God's Christ brought a message of good news to the poor and release to the captives and freedom to the oppressed.  And he healed the sick and ate with sinners and scoffed at the powerful and he said in Me the Kingdom of God has come near. In the small and the unlikely and the unwanted the kingdom of God comes to us. And it changes everything. This is the Kingdom of Heaven says Revelation 21 that God had come to dwell with us.  To make us people of God. To make all things new. For the kingdom of this world
Is become the kingdom of our Lord,
And of His Christ, And He shall reign for ever and ever.

I invite you to discover your own images of what the kingdom of heaven is like.  It is important to have a field guide.  To listen to Jesus when he says what it's like so that we can see it in our own lives and in our own world. And here's why: When we can identify the kingdom of heaven sown around us it's not just an FYI kind of thing it's a subversion.  It's God peeking through the curtain and letting us know that there is a deeper reality present in the world - a reality in which God gets God way. It's the light of God's Christ which shines in the darkness and the darkness cannot, will not, shall not overcome it.  And seeing where God seems to be insistently, dangerously, gorgeously and hilariously sewing signs of the kingdom is important because seeing signs of the kingdom of heaven loosens us from the kingdom of this world.  It frees us from the false promises of human culture and shows us that which is eternal and true and unstoppable. It shows us that drug over doeses and greedy multi national corporation and divorce and unemployment and senseless violence are not the final word.  God and God alone will have the final word even if inconveniently God doesn't meet our expectations or work on our timeline.

And the kingdom of heaven is not to be found alone in a monestary, it's not to be found in the demands and rewards of human religion, it's found in the ordinary, the daily, the right in front of your face and never realized it.  And when you see it something is made new. Perhaps a part of the world perhaps a part of yourself.  But something is made new when the empty promises of the world according to us gives way to the whimsy, and the true and the eternal in the world according to God.  And it's always a surprise.  Tilt your head and look sideways at your life and might see it in the small or the unexpected or the impure.

Tilt your head and look sideways and catch a glimpse- for the Prince of Peace has begun his reign. The signs are all around.  They are signs of a battle already won.  Signs of a world loved so deeply by God that God refuses to leave it alone.  So take another look. See if you can spot it. Amen

 (Sometimes the Kingdom of Heaven happens between the Arby's and the Orange Julius) like here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SXh7JR...

My favorite characters in the Lord of the Rings are the Ents.  These were an ancient race of giant living talking breathing trees in Tolkien's Middle Earth.  So I have a little confession to make: whenever I hear that reading we just heard from Isaiah 55 where it says The mountains and hills before you shall burst into song and all the trees of the field shall clap their hands. I always picture the Giant Ents from Lord of the Rings.  And then I picture these clapping trees from Isaiah holding little Hobbits in their branch arms in what ends up bring a willful conflation of Middle Earth and Major Prophet.  I suppose to some people that might feel wrong.  Maybe a little like the visitor we had at Pentecost who was greatly dismayed at some people snickering during the reading from Acts.  You know, the one where Peter stands up and tells the crowd that clearly these men couldn't be drunk since it's only 9 o'clock in the morning.  Every year people laugh at that. My guess is because every year it's funny.  But laughing in church can dismay some folks because sometimes it feels like religion has become more about decorum than delight.  It's so often more about judgment than joy.

So this week I kept thinking about joy and what role joy has in our faith.  Sure we talk about prayer and sin and creeds and liturgy and discipleship and advocacy as being part of our Christian faith.  But what of joy?  It sadly never seems to be on the top of the list of what it means to be God's people.  And it's for sure not what we are known for….any guess what the top adjective  used to describe Christians is? Judgmental.  I think maybe that's because human religion so easily becomes more about knowing right from wrong than knowing God.

Lutheran theologian Deitrich Bonhoeffer knew this.  He suggests that the Original sin was choosing knowledge of good and evil over knowledge of God.  See, there were 2 trees in the garden of Eden and the snake said if you eat from the tree of the knowledge of Good and Evil you will be like God.  But there was another tree.  The tree of life.  Yet we chose knowledge of Good and Evil over knowledge of God. Bonhoeffer calls this the Fall upward.

 We chose to move God out of the center and put ourselves there, and ever since then human religion tends to be about the knowledge of good and evil and not the knowledge of life- or the knowledge of God. This can be pretty easily seen in how we read the parable of the Sower.  I think we naturally tend to read this parable NOT as the parable of the sower but as the parable of the judgment of the soil.   To focus on the worthiness of the soil is to read the parable in judgment. When we approach this text or our lives with only the knowing and judging of good and evil, we miss out on the knowing of God.  But to focus on the lush and ludicrous image of how God extravagantly, wastefully, wantonly sows the Word of the Kingdom is to read the parable in joy.

And isn't life just too short, too sacred and too important to skimp on joy?  Yet joy can often be the thing we give up when being right seems more important. It's like that cliché: would you rather be right or be happy?  I've focused on being right a lot in my life.  First in the conservative Christianity of my youth and then in the Leftest politics of my young adulthood. They aren't always mutually exclusive, but if given the choice, I want to choose happy instead.  And leave being right to God and God alone.  

Speaking of being right.  I hate to destroy any one's youthful idealism here, but Bible scholars aren't always right. For instance, the Hebrew word from our Isaiah 55  text that they chose to interpret as Purpose is the same word that can also be translated "delight" so shall my word be that goes out from my mouth; it shall not return to me empty, but it shall accomplish that in which I DELIGHT, and succeed in the thing for which I sent it Personally I think the word delight might be more accurate given the playful, whimsical imagery that follows For you shall go out in joy, and be led back in peace; the mountains and the hills before you shall burst into song, and all the trees of the field shall clap their hands.

What a fantastical, joy-filled, playful image- it's like Biblical Cirque de Soile….the delight of God seen in singing hills and clapping trees.  But I wonder if there were those in the time of Isaiah who were dismayed at this imagery as lacking in decorum especially given that this is spoken by a prophet to the people of God in Babylonian exile  - a people who felt they had lost everything and that God had abandoned them.  So I wonder if these whimsical verses seemed like the equivalent of sending a circus clown into a refugee camp. But it's not that Isaiah lacked analysis or didn't respect the gravity of the situation.  It's not that Isaiah couldn't see right and wrong…he was a prophet after all.  But sometimes the job of a prophet is not to discern right and wrong but to point God's people to joy. To remind us that our God delights in us.  To remind us of our true home.  Remember Proverbs 8?  Sophia, the Wisdom of God is described at the creation of the world as rejoicing in the inhabited world
 and delighting in the human race.

I want the day to come when Christians are described not as judgmental but as those who, like the Wisdom of God, rejoice in the world and delight in humanity.  

Which makes me wonder: What would it be like to rather than judging the supposed imperfection of your body, to experience the joy of being a beautiful perfect creation, made in the image of God? What would it be like, rather than judging the unhealthy grocery cart contents of the lady behind me in line at Safeway, to instead experience the joy of seeing Christ's own face in her countenance.  What would it be like to, rather than judging the political or religious correctness of every person, institution, and event to instead experience the joy of God's kingdom breaking in on us all.  I don't know for sure.  But I'm game to try and find out. I want to choose happy.  And leave being right to God and God alone.  

Some people have scorned the idea of blessing bicycles as frivolous to which I respond: Oh my Gosh,  thank you! A little frivolity up in here may be just the ticket.  I mean, the church has been in the knowledge of good and evil business, the judgment business quite awhile.  Maybe it's time for we who follow Jesus of Nazareth to joyfully be in the blessing the world business.   So many of us are painfully familiar with religion that errs on the side of judgment.   But here at House for All Sinners and Saints I guess that given the choice, I want us to err on the side of blessing.  Because you are a people formed by this God who makes hills to sing and trees to clap, who rejoices in the world and delights in humanity – therefore does it not follow that we should be maybe even making up excuses to bless people and things and events?  

And what is a call to joy but a call home.  A call home to the garden of this God whose desire to be known is so much more powerful than our desire to replace God with only the knowledge of Good and Evil.  Undeterred our God still uses any means necessary to be know by us: speaks through prophets, slips into skin and walks among us in Jesus, woos us in bread and wine, surprises us in the strange and the stranger, enters our ears in the words of life and transforms us into a people of Joy, a people of singing hills and clapping tress and every single kind of soil. Blessed be the God of blessing.