3rd Sunday after Pentecost

A few days ago, I heard an interview with Krista Tippet where she was talking with Martin Sheen, who was born Ramón Estévez, and he was telling her about the first real job he held, as a caddy at a golf course. As he talked, he described how he was as invisible to the men playing golf as a gnat or bumblebee on the greens.

And I remember a movie from a few years ago where a woman who was working as a hotel maid was arguing with a politician who had fallen in love with her. He had discovered she had lied about her name and her work, and he couldn’t understand why she hadn’t told him the truth when they met. She told him, “That wasn’t the first time we met; the first time we met I was cleaning your bathroom.” She had been hidden in plain sight, as overlooked as a towel rack or a set of clothes hangers.

Sadly, stories like theirs aren’t new or novel. In fact, they are among the oldest stories we find in our biblical narrative. Today, in Genesis we meet Hagar, an Egyptian slave woman serving Abram’s wife Sarai, and the mother of Ishmael, but to understand the story we have in chapter 21, we need to go back to an earlier chapter of their lives together.

Listen to these verses from Genesis chapter 16:

Sarai said to Abram, "You see that the LORD has prevented me from bearing children; go in to my slave-girl; it may be that I shall obtain children by her." And Abram listened to the voice of Sarai. So, after Abram had lived ten years in the land of Canaan, Sarai, Abram's wife, took Hagar the Egyptian, her slave-girl, and gave her to her husband Abram as a wife. He went in to Hagar, and she conceived; and when she saw that she had conceived, she looked with contempt on her mistress….
Then Sarai dealt harshly with her, and she ran away from her.

Abram and Sarai, to whom God had promised a blessing of descendants that outnumber the stars in heaven (ch. 15), doubted God’s promises and provision. Instead, they seized an opportunity they saw in front of them to make things turn out theway they wanted by their own actions.

In Hagar, Sarai saw a young and fertile slave who Abram could take as his wife and who could bear his son. Hagar was nothing more to her than a means to an end; because slaves and their children were property of their masters, Hagar’s childbearing would elevate Sarai and remove the stigma she experienced by being barren.

But Sarai’s carefully laid plan to elevate herself backfired, because it revealed her callousness, and itreduced her, costing her the respect or esteem of Hagar the slave woman. And when Sarai saw that she was no longer respected by Hagar, she despised her even more.

In the next part of the story, while she is in the wilderness, an angel of the Lord appears to Hagar, giving her the first annunciation in Scripture and telling her to name her son Ishmael or “God heard.” Then, she becomes the only person to name God, calling God “A God of seeing.” (16:13)

Knowing she has been both heard and seen by God, that God cares for her needs and values her, she follows the angel’s instructions and returns to her mistress.

When we pick up the story today, the family is celebrating a milestone in Ishmael’s life when Sarai becomes jealous and orders Abram to send the child and his mother away. Their presence is a painful reminder of her former barrenness, and her failure to trust God.

But, instead of the harm intended for her by Abram and Sarai, Hagar experiences the compassion of God first in exodus and now in exile.

This time God doesn’t instruct her to return to her mistress. This time, when God finds her in the wilderness and speaks to her, God remains with her where she is, recalling the divine promise to make her son Ishmael into a great nation. Just as God provides for Israel when they are exiled in Babylon, God provides for Hagar and Ishmael in Paran, recognizing that while they are outside the covenant established with Abram, they are not outside God’s mercy and compassion.

This story prompts me to ask, “Who are the people hidden in plain sight in our lives today?” "Who are the invisible people?"

Is it the man sitting on the median on 74 with the sign that says “homeless” or the women behind the locked doors of the shelter down the street?

What about the people hidden in plain sight in our everyday lives: a cashier at the grocery store or gas station, a server at a restaurant, a receptionist on the other end of the phone?

Who are the people we avoid or dismiss because their very presence awakens our fears or recalls our regrets? What blinds us from seeing the person God created and loves? Are there people with whom we have broken relationships or, perhaps, whole groups of people narrowly defined by political party or race, or whatever label makes them unpopular this morning?

While the good news given to Hagar and Ishmael is that no one is outside of God’s care,
if we, like Sarai, are the ones in power, sending away those who we have named “other”, that good news may sting.
And, if we are like Abram, complicit and submissive, watching as others are shut out, it may convict us in our silence.
Thankfully, God’s love persists for us, too, and God’s mercy and forgiveness is healing balm for those self-inflicted wounds.

Let us pray.
Holy and compassionate God,
Thank you for the wideness of your mercy that is not limited or bound by us.
Thank you for the reach of your love that you find us when we are in the wilderness.
Thank you for the steadfastness of your promises even when we doubt and fear and try to wrestle control from you.
Whether we are in safety and comfort, exodus or exile, may we find our rest in you.
In the name of El-Roi, the God who sees, we pray.
Amen.

Trinity of our Lord

About thirty-five years ago, I stood on the deck of a brand new guided missile frigate at a shipyard in Washington state when it was commissioned for service in the US Navy; my dad was the ship’s first commanding officer and my brother and I were there for the ceremony.

This ship had been in the works for more than four years; plans were drawn, its hull was laid, it was launched and christened, and it had been through sea trials before we ever got to that day. On that day there was a huge celebration with red, white and blue bunting, a Navy band, rear admirals, speeches and photos, and a cake as long as I was tall at eleven years old.

For the shipbuilder it was the celebrated culmination of a lot of hard work, and it was time to turn the ship over to my father and the crew, as they began their service together. And for the 215 sailors and officers on board - well, I don’t know because I was eleven – but I imagine they were filled with anticipation and excitement, confident that their training had equipped them well for the work ahead and hopeful that they would serve their mission well.

Today’s Gospel text is often called the Great Commission, and I have to believe that, standing on that mountain with Jesus, the eleven disciples were experiencing some of that same excitement and anticipation, when Jesus told them to go out into the world and make disciples.

After all, they had spent three years following Jesus and witnessing how he spoke and taught, how he lived his life and loved the people he encountered. And he didn’t just command them to go; he coupled his command with a promise. He told them, “I am with you always, to the end of the age.”

It is that promise that gives us confidence that “no matter what and in whatever circumstances”, Christ is with us.[i]

But a lot of us don’t really believe that, do we?

Like the disciples who worshiped and doubted, we remember Jesus telling them, “you will not always have me [with you]” and, when we feel distant from God, we think it is because God has abandoned us. [ii] Because we cannot see the evidence of God’s presence, we assume God is absent.

But the author of Hebrews reminds us that faith is “the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.”[iii]

As followers of Jesus, we can go into the world with confidence and hope because God is abounding in steadfast love for us, and God promises that we do not go alone.

But, we do have to go.

The disciples couldn’t stay in Jerusalem; they followed Jesus north to the region of Galilee. We cannot stay in our building or on our church property, or even in our own comfortable circles of friends; God sends us to find our own “Galilee” – the place where others are, others who do not yet know God loves them.

Our commission is to invite people – of all ages –
to see God in their lives:
to awaken to the holy presence of God who loves us,
God who sheds tears at the violence in our world,
God who winces when we pierce each other with barbed words.

Maybe the summer offers us new opportunities to be attentive to this commissioning we’ve been given, and look, with some excitement and anticipation for those places where God may be leading us and those places where people are hurting and who might be changed by knowing they are not alone.

I don’t think we have to go far to find them.

With school out for the summer, I think of the children who have depended on free breakfast and lunch at their schools; and I am grateful for free summer lunch programs but I wonder if they know where to find them.

With the return of summer storms and power outages, I think of older neighbors who may be vulnerable to the soaring heat, but I don’t know how to offer help without treading on their privacy.

And, when even the shade temperatures reach the 90s, I think of people living without electricity or without clean or cold water, but I know we can’t afford to leave our outdoor spigots unlocked because they get left running wide open.

I don't know the answers to how to be present for all of these different people, but God does.

In the June newsletter I asked you to be praying for renewal in our congregation and in your life and to be listening to the leading of the Holy Spirit. Today’s gospel is more than mere encouragement. It is a commandment for us to step out into the world as Jesus’ followers and be different because of the promises we have from God.

Trusting in those promises, and confident that God will show us how to be in the world where we are needed, let us pray.

Holy God,
May we remember that you are with us always,
to the end of the age;
Give us courage to go out into the world
even though we don’t have all the answers;
and equip us to bear witness to your love and mercy
knowing that You look upon us and take delight in us as Your beloved children.
Amen.[iv]

[i] Karoline Lewis, Dear Working Preacher, June 11, 2017.
[ii] Matthew 26:11
[iii] Hebrews11:1
[iv] Adapted from Laughing Bird Liturgical Resources.

Day of Pentecost

Today we’re celebrating Pentecost and the pouring out of the Holy Spirit upon the disciples, and we are reaching back through the ancestry of our faith to build upon a tradition of God’s spirit being sent among God’s people.

Throughout Scripture, in both old and new testaments,

the Spirit of God has been making its presence known

and equipping us to do the work that God wants us to do.

In Numbers, there’s a story of God sharing the gift of the spirit with seventy others who would help Moses lead Israel in the wilderness of their life together;

And the setting for today’s Gospel — the Jewish Festival of Booths — that celebrated God giving the law to Moses at Mount Sinai recalls an event that defined God’s covenant relationship with the people of Israel.

And finally, in Acts, we get the story of Pentecost when the spirit visibly comes in tongues of flame as a sign that different groups of people have received God’s Spirit,

that the Spirit has broken into the lives of a community.

These different stories show us God speaking through many different voices and kinds of people, and giving us a new common or shared language – the language of faith.

Learning a new language works best by immersion, when you are surrounded by other people who are learning alongside you, and you can turn to others who are have been speaking it longer than you. Instead of studying phrases and vocabulary from a book or listening to a recording, you hear the words in their context and you can pick up on all the other clues that help the new language make sense.

You will trip over new sounds and foreign words, and it may feel just as awkward as rowdy experiences of the Spirit, with raised hands and voices, or thunderous noise from clapping or shouting, might feel in many of our Lutheran worship settings, but immersion helps you soak up the new language, like new wine, so that it becomes part of your identity.

It sounds a lot like the past three years of faith formation with Landon and Devyn and Rainey who will be confirmed later this morning in worship.

We began by learning together the big-picture ark of God’s story in the Bible that shows us how we are created for relationship with a loving God and given responsibility to live out of the grace that we have been given.

We spent time reading Luther’s Small Catechism and the language he gives us to better understand God’s commandments and the profession of faith that we make in the apostle’s creed.

We practiced praying for each other even as we learned more about the prayer that Jesus gives us in scripture.

And we tackled hard questions that we face when faith and life intersect; questions like “Why do bad things happen?” and “Is it ok to be mad at God?”; questions that come up when our world is scarred by brokenness and doesn’t measure up to the promises we hear from God.

We didn’t find all the answers. In fact, I would bet we found more questions, but we also discovered that God is big enough for our questions and, even, for our anger and our sadness.

We discovered that living a Christian life is about learning how to live in relationship with a loving God, where you talk to God and listen to God, and where you show up just like you would to build any new friendship.

In the story of Pentecost we hear a babel of voices,

but unlike the story in Genesis, on this day, by the power of the Holy Spirit in their midst, everyone understands each other.

When we celebrate Landon, Devyn and Rainey affirming the promises made on their behalf at their baptisms, we will also be celebrating that God brings us together in our differences, and, by God’s Spirit, unites us and helps us find understanding together.  

Today, even as our joy is tempered by loss, we rejoice that the Spirit is here, moving among us, reshaping and redefining who we are as we are joined together be God’s people in the world.

The story of Pentecost reminds us that we do not live in faith only for ourselves but for the sake of the world. God promises that the Spirit gives us just what each of us needs to go out and take the Good News of God’s love and mercy and forgiveness to our neighbors, and to show the world who Jesus is in our words and actions.

Like the acts of the Spirit we heard in the story of Pentecost, and like learning a new language, learning to live filled with God’s Spirit can be messy and hard and even awkward.

But it is also really very beautiful as you see the Spirit working right here in our corner of the world, as we come to understand that we are brought together intentionally by God,

and who we are is who we are by the work of the Spirit and not by any effort or merit of our own.

Let us pray.

Holy God,

Pour out Your Spirit upon us and renew us for the work you want us to do. Help us discern the gifts you have given each of us.

Kindle the fire of Your Spirit in us that we would share your Good News with our neighbors with joy.

Continue the good work you have begun in us and strengthen our community, for the sake of the world.

Amen.