Christ the King Sunday (Domingo de Cristo El Rey)

Mateo 25:31-46

I preached this sermon in the Spanish service; the English translation is below. 

Oremos…
Que las palabras de mi boca y las meditaciones de nuestros corazones sean aceptables a tu vista, oh Señor nuestra fuerza y nuestro redentor. Amén.

En el Evangelio de hoy, escuchamos sobre ovejas y cabras y si fuera agricultor, tal vez tendría más información sobre lo que separa a las dos. Pero no soy agricultor. Y no creo que Jesús hable sobre ovejas y cabras porque quiere que nos convertamos en expertos sobre animales de granja. Entonces, en lugar de pensar demasiado sobre las diferencias entre las dos, dirigí mi atención a cómo los dos grupos son iguales.

Cuando el rey le dice a cada grupo lo que habían hecho, no hay argumento ni protesta. Es preciso. Saben lo que hicieron, o en el caso del segundo grupo, lo que no hicieron. Pero ambos grupos preguntan: "¿Cuándo fue que te vimos?"

A medida que pasamos por la vida, ¿con qué frecuencia nos sorprenderíamos también nosotros si nos dijeran que Dios hubiera estado allí con nosotros?

Declaramos rápidamente que todo en la creación pertenece a Dios, pero a menudo, en la práctica, respondemos como si Dios fuera un relojero divino, poniendo las cosas en movimiento y observando desde la distancia, en algún lugar en los altos cielos.

Acabo de terminar de leer la historia de los niños "El Jardín Secreto " que cuenta la historia de una niña que es enviada a vivir con un tío en Inglaterra y mientras vive en la gran casa grande, descubre dos secretos. El primero es un jardín que había sido abandonado, y el segundo es un niño, su primo, que también había sido abandonado. La madre del niño había muerto cuando era muy joven, y su padre había sido abrumado por el dolor y el miedo y lo abandonó al cuidado de los demás.

Creo que a veces pensamos en Dios así, como un Padre distante o ausente, y olvidamos que Dios está con nosotros todos los días.

Pero, en nuestras vidas de fe, estamos en relación con Dios, y las demandas de la relación aparecen. Requiere presencia.

Afortunadamente, hay un final feliz para la historia de los niños, y tenemos una feliz confianza de que Dios tampoco nos abandona.

La segunda forma en que los dos grupos son los mismos es que ninguno pensó mucho en cómo habían tratado a las personas a su alrededor.

Solo podemos adivinar por qué un grupo eligió alimentar a los hambrientos, calmar la sed del sediento, dio la bienvenida al extranjero, vestía a los desnudos, atendió a los enfermos o visitó al prisionero.

Una interpretación esperanzadora es que el primer grupo estaba haciendo lo que era natural para ellos, como un árbol que tiene buenas frutas. No se les ocurrió examinar por qué hicieron lo que hicieron.

Y de la misma manera, solo podemos adivinar por qué el segundo grupo decidió no cuidar a sus vecinos. Recuerdo la idea de "pecados de comisión" y "pecados de omisión" y nuestro rito de confesión donde confesamos "hemos pecado contra [Dios] por lo que hemos hecho y por lo que hemos dejado de hacer". Uno podría adivinar que realmente no vieron a las personas o sus necesidades.

Martin Luther describió a nuestro estado como pecadores diciendo que "[el hombre] está tan curvado sobre sí mismo que usa no solo bienes físicos sino incluso espirituales para sus propios beneficios y en todas las cosas busca solo a sí mismo".

No es extraño que en esa condición luchemos por ver a otros o reconocer sus necesidades.

"El mas pequeño de estos" (v.45) son aquellos a quienes ignoramos, pasamos por alto o incluso rechazamos.

Si bien esperamos ver de inmediato a nuestros vecinos como hijos queridos de Dios, confesamos que a veces no lo hacemos. Las palabras de Jesús ayudan a dirigir nuestra atención hacia ellos y abrir nuestros ojos para ver a Jesús en ellos. Cuando entramos en una relación con nuestros projimos, comenzamos a presentarnos el uno al otro. Y es en la comunidad y la relación, que aprendemos las historias de los demás y reconocemos las necesidades que existen.

Y así, en lugar de sorprendernos, podemos preguntarle a Dios: "¿Cuándo fue que te vimos?" con curiosidad y asombro,confiando en que hemos visto a Dios en los rostros de los que conocemos.

Hemos visto a Dios en la mujer llevando de una maleta con todo lo que posee por la calle helada en Fleming Street y en el hombre que sostiene su letrero de cartón cerca de la carretera interestatal. Hemos visto a Dios en las salas de espera en el hospital y en el centro de detención. Hemos visto a Dios en los rostros de las personas que reciben paquetes de ropas nuevas en los centros de hospitalidad para los refugiados. Hemos visto a Dios en los projimos que recibirán nuevos abrigos de invierno y las bendiciones en cajas esta Navidad.

Al entrar en las próximas temporadas de Adviento y Navidad, que veamos y preguntemos dónde más, y en quién, podemos ver a Dios.

Amén.

Matthew 25:31-46

In today’s gospel, we hear about sheep and goats and if I were a farmer, maybe I’d have more insight into what separates the two. But I am not a farmer. And I don’t think that Jesus talks about sheep and goats because he wants us to become experts about farm animals. So instead of thinking too much about the differences between the two, I turned my attention to how the two groups are the same.

When the king tells each group what they had done, there’s no argument or protest. He’s accurate. They know what they did, or in the case of the second group, what they did not do. But both groups ask, “When was it that we saw you?”

As we go through life, how often would we, too, be caught by surprise if we were told God had been there with us?

We are quick to declare that everything in creation belongs to God, but often, in practice, we respond as if God were a divine clockmaker, setting things into motion and watching from a distance, somewhere in the lofty heavens.

I just finished reading the children’s story “The Secret Garden” that tells the story of a girl who is sent to live with an uncle in England and while she is living in the great big house, she discovers two secrets. The first is a garden that had been deserted, and the second is a boy, her cousin, who had been deserted, as well. The boy’s mother had died when he was very young, and his father had been overwhelmed by grief and fear and abandoned him to the care of others.

I think sometimes we think of God like that, as an aloof or absent father, and we forget that God is with us every day.

But, in our lives of faith, we are in relationship with God, and relationship demands showing up. It requires presence.

Thankfully, there is a happy ending to the children’s story, and we have a happy confidence that God does not abandon us either.

The second way the two groups are the same is that neither gave much thought to how they had treated the people around them.

We can only guess why one group chose to feed the hungry, quench the thirst of the parched, welcomed the stranger, clothed the naked, tended the sick or visited the prisoner. A hopeful interpretation is that the first group was doing what came naturally to them, like a tree bearing good fruit. It didn’t occur to them to examine why they did what they did.

And likewise, we can only guess why the second group chose not to care for their neighbors. I am reminded of the idea of “sins of commission” and “sins of omission” and our rite of confession where we confess “we have sinned against [God] by what we have done and by what we have left undone.” One might guess that they didn’t really see the people or their needs.

Martin Luther described our state as sinners saying that “[man is] so curved in upon himself that he uses not only physical but even spiritual goods for his own purposes and in all things seeks only himself.”[i] It is no wonder that in that state we struggle to see others or recognize their needs.

“The least of these” (v.45) are those who we disregard, overlook or even dismiss.

While we hope we would immediately see our neighbors as beloved children of God, we confess sometimes we don’t. Jesus’ words help direct our attention to them and open our eyes to see Jesus in them. When we enter into relationship with our neighbors, we begin to show up for each other. And it is in community and relationship, that we learn each other’s stories and recognize the needs that exist.

And so, instead of being surprised, we can ask God, “When was it that we saw you?” with curiosity and wonder, trusting that we have seen God in the faces of those we meet.

We have seen God in the woman pulling a suitcase with all that she owns down the frosty sidewalk on Fleming Street and in the man holding his cardboard sign on the median near the interstate. We have seen God in the waiting rooms at the hospital and at the detention center. We have seen God in the faces of the people receiving Fresh Change bundles at hospitality centers for refugees. We have seen God in the neighbors who will receive new winter coats and the blessings in boxes this Christmas.

As we enter into the coming Advent and Christmas seasons, may we watch and wonder where else, and in whom, we may see God.

Amen.

[i] Luther’s Works, vol. 25, p. 345, see also pp. 291-92.

Lectionary 33A

Matthew 25:14-30

Remembering that God is always the actor in Scripture, we read Matthew’s text and ask, “What does this parable tell us about God?”

I don’t think it works as allegory. It falls apart if the Master is God because the one slave describes this Master as “a harsh man, reaping where he does not sow and gathering where he does not scatter seed.” (v. 24). Maybe that could be dismissed as the slave’s perception or misperception, but, upon his return, this Master rebukes the slave and orders him “thrown into the outer darkness.” (v. 30)

The first problem we have with identifying the Master of the parable as God is that everything in creation, and everything we reap, belongs to our Creator God.

And the second problem is that just a few chapters later, Jesus promises his disciples, “I am with you always, to the end of the age.” (28:20) And later still, we have Paul, too, who teaches that “[nothing] in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.” (Romans 8:38-39)

So, if it’s not allegory, I wonder, why does Jesus tell this story?

I wonder if Jesus tells this parable because he knows how often we look at what we have been given through a lens of scarcity and fear, instead of abundance. And he wants to remind us of the vision God has for God’s kingdom.

The first two slaves take what is given to them and they find ways to increase the extravagant abundance. But the third slave buries what he was given, refusing to do anything with it. He is filled with fear.

This month, I have been spending time with Psalm 5 and particularly with a paraphrase written by Nan Merrill in her volume titled Psalms for Praying. Her words came back to me as I read the parable. She writes,

Lead me, O my Beloved,

in your mercy lighten my fears;

make my way straight before me that I may follow.

For there is no truth in fear; it leads to downfall;

it opens the door to loneliness; it speaks not with integrity,

but out of ignorance.

“There is no truth in fear.”

Merrill says fear speaks out of ignorance and not out of integrity. I’d add that fear squelches imagination, compassion and ultimately, mercy.

If you haven’t been at the Wednesday night Oasis this past two weeks, you’ve missed Pastor Jonathan’s introduction to Dietrich Bonhoeffer and his writings.

You can listen to the podcast episodes on Ground Up Faith, but to summarize, Bonhoeffer was a German Lutheran theologian and teacher in the 1930s, as Hitler was rising in power. He criticized Hitler, which as you can probably guess, isn’t the way to gain a dictator’s favor. In 1930 Bonhoeffer came to the United States, but he returned to Germany in 1931 and continued his opposition to Hitler and Nazi power. He became a professor in the underground seminary, training pastors for the confessing church. And in 1938 he traveled again to the United States and relative safety, but almost immediately, he returned to Germany.

Returning to Nazi Germany, Bonhoeffer said,

 

I must live through this difficult period in our national history along with the people of Germany. I will have no right to participate in the reconstruction of Christian life in Germany after the war if I do not share the trials of this time with my people…

I wanted to retell that piece of Bonhoeffer’s story because today's gospel is a parable that invites our response.

Both Pastor Jonathan and I have spoken often of faith as something we live out in community. It is never a solitary, private thing that’s only about me, my Bible and Jesus. 

When we are living out our faith, and we respond in fear, we take the gifts that God has given us, we take the ways God has equipped us to bear God’s love to our neighbors and we bury them.

Surely, we think, it is safer to do nothing, to hold onto what we have and wait. Nothing will be gained, but nothing will be lost either.

Except it will. Our complacency – our failure to imagine a different future and our failure to act with compassion – exacts a cost from everyone who needs mercy right now.

For the beloved people who need to know the extravagant love of our generous and life-giving God, it costs them hope. It costs them love. It costs them faith. 

I’m not saying that God can’t still act. Surely, God can and does.

And I’m not saying that faith comes from us. It is in Christ alone.

But God uses us, the Church, to show the world who God is. God uses our hands and feet and hearts to bear witness to God’s love.

And when we allow fear to paralyze us and choose safety and security over compassion and mercy, we reject the gifts God has entrusted to us for the sake of the world. We reject the invitation to participate in God’s kingdom and make that kingdom a reality here on earth.

Our fear curves us in on ourselves – turning away from the opportunities to show others how God so loves the world – and it’s that curving in on ourselves that Luther calls sin,
sin that separates us from God.

And what’s astonishing to me is that when we sin,

God doesn’t call us worthless and throw us into the outer darkness.

Do you know what God does?

In that same paraphrase of Psalm 5, Merrill writes, “tears from your Heart fall on those separated from You by fear.”

When God sees what we have done, God weeps.

The God who sees his Son Jesus crucified weeps for us and continues to call us beloved children of God and entrust kingdom work to us, calling us to respond faithfully with compassion and mercy.

Let us pray…

Good and gracious God,

Thank you for showing us how much you so love the world.

You wept for your crucified Son,

and you weep for us when we turn away from you.

Draw us to You, confident in your love.

Help us live out our faith in words and actions that reflect the extravagant grace you give each one of us.

Empower us by your Holy Spirit to share your compassion and mercy with the whole world.

We pray in Jesus’ name.

Amen.

Lectionary 32A (el vigésimo cuatro domingo después de Pentecostés)

Mateo 25:1-13

I preached this sermon in the Spanish service; the English translation is below. 

Oremos …
Que las palabras de mi boca y las meditaciones de nuestro corazón sean aceptables ante tus ojos, oh Señor, fortaleza nuestra y redentor nuestro. Amén.

La parábola del evangelio de hoy es difícil de escuchar. No suena como el Jesús que predicó el Sermón del Monte o hizo que los discípulos compartieran lo que tenían para que todos fueran alimentados.

En cambio, aquí la palabra de juicio resuena con fuerza. Cinco damas de honor son llamadas tontas. Y con esa declaración, nuestro corazón se aprieta porque ninguno de nosotros quiere ser visto como un tonto, ¿verdad?

Por supuesto que no. Queremos ser como los sabios personajes de esta parábola. Queremos saber lo que sabían, hacer lo que hicieron y ser aprobados por Jesús.

Pero eso también es problemático, ¿no?

La gracia, por definición, es inmerecida (no ganada y dada gratuitamente por Dios), por lo que lo que hacemos, o quizás más importante, lo que dejamos de hacer, no cambia la medida de la gracia que recibimos.

Entonces, ¿por qué Jesús cuenta esta historia?

En la parábola. Jesús dice que las damas de honor estaban esperando para encontrarse con el novio. Este no fue un episodio de televisión de realidad en el que alguien espera una llegada sorpresa desde fuera del escenario. “En las costumbres matrimoniales palestinas del primer siglo,… el novio iba a la casa familiar de su novia para completar los arreglos [matrimoniales] y la llevaba a su propia casa… donde se llevaba a cabo una celebración”.

Según la parábola y la costumbre, estas mujeres esperaban la llegada del novio. Puedes imaginarlos mirando por una puerta o ventana, llenos de anticipación, pero, a medida que la tarde se alargaba, se adormecieron y se durmieron, aun cuando sus lámparas seguían encendidas. ¡Y entonces, un grito los sobresaltó y los despertó!

El novio había llegado. Su tarea estaba al alcance de la mano. Estaban allí para recibir al novio. ¡Este era su momento, el tiempo que habían esperado y preparado! 

Pero en lugar de darle la bienvenida al novio, cinco de ellas fueron a buscar más aceite para que sus lámparas ardieran tan intensamente como las de las demás.

A estos cinco se les llama tontos. Sí, les hubiera venido bien estar mejor preparados y llevar un frasco extra de aceite, pero no son tontos porque se equivocaron.

Son tontos porque se distrajeron de su único trabajo:

para recibir al novio!

Como seguidores de Jesús, nuestra única tarea es permitir que el mundo vea a Jesús en nosotros; mostrar el amor de Dios por cada cosa creada mediante nuestras palabras y acciones.

Al igual que las damas de honor que partieron en busca de más aceite, es fácil distraerse con las particularidades de nuestro trabajo como discípulos.

Pero, como dijo el autor de negocios Steven Covey, “lo principal es mantener lo principal como principal”.

Lo que es más, las llamadas damas de honor “sabias” también fracasaron en el discipulado, ¿no es así?

Claro, estaban allí para recibir al novio, pero la bienvenida se vio disminuida por la ausencia de los demás, a quienes enviaron a medianoche a buscar más aceite para ellos.

La celebración hubiera sido más plena si hubieran sido menos tacaños o egoístas con lo que tenían; si no hubieran tenido miedo a la escasez o a no tener suficiente, toda la comunidad habría estado junta para la celebración.

El evangelio nos recuerda que estamos reunidos como comunidad de creyentes y que vivimos juntos como seguidores de Jesús.

Nos recuerda que ser discípulos no significa ser perfectos, pero sí significa saber que somos perfectamente amados por Dios en su abundante gracia.

Nos recuerda que si bien apreciamos nuestro entorno de vidrieras y velas o nuestra meditación tranquila, la adoración no se trata de la belleza de los paramentos, de cantar en el tono correcto, de pronunciar las palabras correctamente o de orar con elocuencia. La adoración se trata de estar reunidos en la presencia de Dios, incluso mientras nos limpiamos el sueño de los ojos. 

Y finalmente, el evangelio nos recuerda que no estamos llamados a celebrar lo bien que hemos hecho nuestro trabajo o lo cuidadosamente que nos hemos preparado, sino a celebrar al Dios que nos llama y nos envía para que el mundo conozca el amor de Dios.

Entonces, tal vez esta parábola se parezca al Jesús que conocemos, después de todo.

El Jesús que predica en su Sermón de la Montaña, “no rechaces a nadie que quiera pedir prestado de ti”. El mismo Jesús que enseñó: “No juzguéis, para que no seáis juzgados”. Y el mismo Jesús que dijo a sus discípulos,

³⁷ 'Amarás al Señor tu Dios con todo tu corazón, y con toda tu alma, y con toda tu mente.' ³⁸ Este es el mayor y el primer mandamiento. ³⁹ Y un segundo es parecido: 'Amarás a tu prójimo como a ti mismo'.

Oremos…

Dios de luz y amor,

Gracias por tu gracia abundante, dada a nosotros como don inmerecido, y por tu amor que nunca se agota, sino que siempre es abundante;

Gracias por el don de tu Hijo Jesús que nos muestra la necedad de la cruz en un mundo que se aleja de ella;

Por el Espíritu Santo, danos sabiduría para compartir tu amor y misericordia en un mundo que no te recibe.

Amén.

Matthew 25:1-13

The parable in today’s gospel is hard to hear. It doesn’t sound like the Jesus who preached the Sermon on the Mount or had the disciples share what they had so that all would be fed.

Instead, here the word of judgment resonates loudly. Five bridesmaids are called foolish. And with that declaration, our hearts clench because none of us wants to be seen as foolish, do we?

Of course not. We want to be like the wise characters in this parable. We want to know what they knew, do what they did and be approved by Jesus.

But that’s problematic, too, isn’t it? Grace by definition is unmerited – unearned and given freely by God – so what we do, or perhaps more importantly, what we have left undone doesn’t change the measure of grace that we receive.

So why does Jesus tell this story?

In the parable. Jesus says that the bridesmaids were waiting to meet the bridegroom. This wasn’t an episode of reality tv where someone waits for a surprise arrival from off-stage. “In first-century Palestinian marriage customs, …the groom would go to his bride’s family home to complete [the marriage] arrangements and bring her to his own house …where a celebration would take place.”[i]

According to the parable, and the custom, these women were waiting for the bridegroom’s arrival. You can imagine them watching out a door or window, filled with anticipation, but, as the evening lengthened, they became drowsy and slept, even as their lamps continued to burn.  And then, a shout startled and woke them!

The bridegroom had arrived. Their task was at hand. They were there to welcome the bridegroom. This was their moment, the time that they had awaited and prepared for!

But instead of welcoming the bridegroom, five of them left to find more oil so their lamps would burn as brightly as the others’.

These five are called fools. Yes, it would have been good for them to have been better prepared and to have carried an extra flask of oil, but they are not fools because they made a mistake.

They are fools because they were distracted from their one job:

to welcome the bridegroom!

As followers of Jesus, our one job is to let the world see Jesus in us; to show God’s love for every created thing by our words and actions.

Like the bridesmaids who left to find more oil, it’s easy to be distracted by the particularities of our work as disciples.

But, as business author Steven Covey has said, “The main thing is to keep the main thing the main thing.”

But, the so-called “wise” bridesmaids failed at discipleship, too, didn’t they?

Sure, they were there to welcome the bridegroom, but the welcome was diminished by the absence of the others who they sent out at midnight to find more oil for themselves.

The celebration would have been more full if they had been less stingy or selfish with what they had; if they had not been afraid of scarcity or of not having enough, the whole community would have been together for the celebration.

The gospel reminds us that we are gathered as a community of believers and that we live as followers of Jesus in life together.

It reminds us that being disciples does not mean being perfect, but it does mean knowing we are perfectly loved by God in God’s abundant grace.

It reminds us that while we appreciate our setting of stained glass and candles or quiet meditation, worship is not about the beauty of the paraments, singing in the right key, pronouncing the words correctly, or praying with eloquence. Worship is about being gathered together in God’s presence, even as we wipe the sleep from our eyes.

And finally, the gospel reminds us that we are not called together to celebrate how well we have done our work or how carefully we have prepared, but to celebrate the God who calls us and sends us that the world may know God’s love.

So maybe this parable sounds like the Jesus we know after all. The Jesus who preaches in his Sermon on the Mount, “do not refuse anyone who wants to borrow from you.”[ii] The same Jesus who taught, “Do not judge, so that you may not be judged.”[iii] And the same Jesus who told his disciples,

³⁷ 'You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind.' ³⁸ This is the greatest and first commandment. ³⁹ And a second is like it: 'You shall love your neighbor as yourself.'[iv]

Let us pray…

God of light and love,

Thank you for your abundant grace, given to us as an unmerited gift, and for your love that never runs out, but is always plentiful;

Thank you for the gift of your Son Jesus who shows us the foolishness of the cross in a world that walks away from it;

By the Holy Spirit give us wisdom to share your love and mercy in a world that fails to welcome you.

Amen.

---

[i] Donald Senior. Matthew. 274.

[ii] Matthew 5:42

[iii] Matthew 7:1

[iv] Matthew 22:37-39