Lectionary 25B

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

Marcos 9:30-37

Oremos…

Que las palabras de mi boca y las meditaciones de nuestro corazón sean aceptables ante ti, Señor, fortaleza nuestra y redentor nuestro. Amén.

Hace poco estaba hablando con unos amigos y alguien dijo que estar en relación con los demás significa que debemos estar abiertos a que cambien nuestras mentes. No aferrarnos demasiado a nuestras propias ideas. Estar dispuestos a aprender algo nuevo sobre los demás, y tal vez sobre nosotros mismos. Yo añadiría que es importante saber cuándo decir: “No sé”.

En el evangelio de hoy, Jesús ha estado hablando a sus discípulos sobre la muerte que sufrirá y sobre la resurrección que presenciarán. Ellos no entienden y tienen miedo de preguntarle qué quiso decir. Luego, mientras viajan, Jesús los escucha discutiendo. Pero cuando les pregunta sobre qué están discutiendo, no responden. Nuevamente, tienen miedo.

No han aprendido la lección de decir: “No sé”. En cambio, simulan que entienden, y luego se distraen con objetos brillantes y relucientes y discuten sobre asuntos triviales.

Jesús no los regaña ni los sermonea, pero sí los desafía. Les dice: “El que quiera ser el primero, que sea el último de todos y el servidor de todos” (v. 35). Y luego levanta a un niño y lo toma en sus brazos.

En el mundo del primer siglo, si bien sus padres y familias los amaban, los niños no tenían estatus, poder ni derechos. Eran “los últimos” en la sociedad. La declaración de Jesús sobre ser “el servidor de todos” está encarnada en un niño.

Ciertamente, los niños pequeños, como los discípulos, pueden ser egoístas y egocéntricos. Pueden ser imprudentes como Pedro a menudo lo es. Pero esos no son los rasgos que elogiamos en los niños.

En cambio, celebramos su inocencia y confianza, su facil alegría y curiosidad , y su disposición a responder con amistad y compasión.

Mi hermano cuenta la historia de cuando le hizo una pregunta a nuestra madre cuando tenía casi cinco años después de escuchar a una maestra de la escuela dominical hablar sobre cómo todos vieron a Jesús morir en la cruz. Cuando salían de la iglesia ese día, le preguntó a nuestra madre: "¿Cómo fue para ti? ¿Cómo te sentiste, mientras estabas de pie entre la multitud, viendo morir a Jesús?" (Implicando, por supuesto, que ella era mucho mayor que sus veinticuatro años).

Recuerdo cuando mi hija iba al jardín de niños o “kínder” y la maestra me preguntó qué quería que pasara. Recuerdo haberle dicho a la maestra que le encantaba aprender y que no quería que su experiencia en el salon de clases  arruinara eso.

Una madre cuyo hijo menor tiene autismo contó la historia de cómo, el primer día de clases, un nuevo compañero lo había ayudado con la mochila al final del día, en lugar de ignorarlo.

En la Iglesia, enseñamos sobre las señales del discipulado y los frutos del Espíritu Santo, pero a veces, la respuesta a la pregunta: “¿Cómo es una vida fiel?” es aún más simple. Curiosidad, alegría y compasión, todo basado en el amor de Dios por cada uno de nosotros.

Martín Lutero retoma las palabras de Cristo en su escrito“Sobre la libertad del cristiano”, donde escribe:

“Un cristiano es un señor perfectamente libre de todos, no sujeto a nadie. Un cristiano es un siervo perfectamente obediente de todos, sujeto a todos, sujeto para todos”. [i]

Debemos servir a los demás, entrando en cada día con medidas de gratitud y humildad que nos den la libertad de acompañar o caminar junto a los demás, viéndolos como amados de Dios, para escuchar con curiosidad y responder con compasión.

En el evangelio de hoy, los discípulos nos brindan una imagen de lo que no es seguir fielmente a Jesús: tener miedo,

permanecer en silencio en lugar de hacer preguntas,

discutir y ser egoísta y egocéntrico.

En su epístola, Santiago nos insta a vivir con “la mansedumbre que nace de la sabiduría” (3:13) en lugar de caer presos de la envidia, la ambición egoísta, la jactancia y la mentira. (3:14) Se necesita disciplina para resistir las conductas y actitudes del mundo que nos rodea, para renunciar al mal, al diablo y a los poderes de este mundo que desafían a Dios, que se rebelan contra Dios y nos alejan de Él. Más que eso, se necesita que Cristo obre en nosotros, a través de la fe.

Cuando seguimos a Jesús con fe, con la curiosidad, alegría y compasión de los niños, ya no nos centramos en lo que el mundo nos dice que es importante: prestigio, poder, influencia y dinero; en cambio, nos centramos en aquellos a quienes Cristo ama, compartiendo el amor infinito de Dios con los demás e invitándolos a que vivamos juntos.

Oremos.

Dios bueno y misericordioso,

Gracias por tu Hijo Jesús y por atraernos hacia Ti.

Danos poder para resistir aquellas cosas que nos separarían de Ti y ayúdanos a tener una fe como la de los niños.

Llénanos de Tu Espíritu para que amemos y sirvamos a los demás.

Oramos en el nombre de Jesús.

Amén.

Mark 9:30-37

Recently I was talking with friends and someone said that being in relationship with others means we must be open to having our minds changed. To not hold too tightly to our own ideas. To be willing to learn something new about others, and maybe about ourselves. I would add that it’s important to know when to say, “I don’t know.”

In the gospel for today, Jesus has been telling his disciples about the death he will suffer and about the resurrection they will witness. They don’t understand and they’re afraid to ask him what he meant. Then, while they are traveling, Jesus overhears them arguing. But when he asks them what they are arguing about, they don’t answer. Again, they are afraid.

They haven’t learned the lesson to say, “I don’t know”. Instead, they pretend they understand, and then they get distracted by bright, shiny objects and argue about trivial matters.

Jesus doesn’t scold them or lecture them, but he does challenge them. He says, “Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all.” (v. 35) And then he lifts up a child, taking the child into his arms.

In the first century world, while they were loved by their parents and families, children had no status, power or rights. They were “the least” in society. Jesus’s statement about being “the servant of all” is embodied in a child.

Certainly, small children, like the disciples, can be selfish and self-centered. They can be reckless like Peter often is. But those aren’t the traits we praise in children. Instead, we celebrate their innocence and trust, their easy joy and curiosity, and their readiness to respond with friendship and compassion.

My brother tells the story of asking our mother a question when he was almost five years old after hearing a Sunday School teacher speak about everyone watching Jesus die on the cross. When they were leaving church that day, he asked our mom, “What was it like for you? How did you feel, as you stood in the crowd, watching Jesus die? (Implying, of course, that she was much older than her twenty-four years.)

I remember when my daughter was going to kindergarten and the teacher asked what I wanted to see happen next. I remember telling the teacher that she loved learning, and I didn’t want her classroom experience to spoil that.

A mom whose youngest son has autism told the story of how, on the first day of school, a new classmate had helped him with backpack at the end of the day, instead of ignoring him.

In the Church, we teach about marks of discipleship and fruits of the Holy Spirit, but sometimes, the answer to the question, “What does a faithful life look like?” is even simpler. Wonder, joy and compassion, all grounded in God’s love for each one of us.

Martin Luther picks up Christ’s words in his essay “On the Freedom of a Christian” writing,

“A Christian is a perfectly free lord of all, subject to none. A Christian is a perfectly dutiful servant of all, subject of all, subject to all.”[i]

We are to serve others, entering into each day with measures of gratitude and humility that give us the freedom to accompany or walk beside others, seeing them as God’s beloved, to listen with curiosity and to respond with compassion.

In today’s gospel, the disciples provide us with a picture of what faithfully following Jesus isn’t:

being fearful,

remaining silent instead of asking questions, and

bickering and being selfish and self-centered.

In his epistle, James urges us to live with “gentleness born of wisdom” (3:13) instead of falling prey to envy, selfish ambition, boasting and lying. (3:14) It takes discipline to resist the behaviors and attitudes in the world around us, to renounce evil, the devil, and the powers of this world that defy God, rebel against God and draw us away from God. More than that, it takes Christ working in us, through faith.

When we follow Jesus in faith, with childlike wonder, joy and compassion, we no longer focus on what the world tells us is important – prestige, power, influence and money; instead, we focus on those whom Christ loves, sharing God’s boundless love with others and inviting them into life together.

Let us pray.

Good and gracious God,

Thank you for your Son Jesus and for drawing us to You.

Empower us to resist those things that would separate us from you, and help us have childlike faith.

Fill us with Your Spirit that we would love and serve others.

We pray in Jesus’ name.

Amen.

---

[i] Martin Luther, “On the Freedom of a Christian”.

"Deeper"

Ephesians 2:13-22

This month, as we worship, we are listening to stories from Scripture that shape our lives as disciples. We are asking how we can be good stewards of God’s gifts and people. We have looked at how we gather both as a community in worship and to bring together resources, and we have been encouraged to scatter beyond these walls to be good neighbors and to share generously what we have first been given.

Another dimension of our commitment to stewardship is depth.

Our Scripture today says, “[each of us is a member of the household of God] built upon the foundation of the apostles and the prophets….”

The apostles and the prophets are the people whose names we know from Bible study.

Prophets like Isaiah who said,

“Do not remember the former things, or consider the things of old.

I am about to do a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?” (Isaiah 43:18-19)

and Jeremiah who promised, “For surely I know the plans I have for you, says the LORD, plans for your welfare and not for harm, to give you a future with hope.” (Jeremiah 29:11)

and Micah who asks God’s people, “what does the Lord require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?” (Micah 6:8)

And apostles like Peter about whom Jesus says, “I tell you, you are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church, and the gates of Hades will not prevail against it.” (Matthew 16:18) Of course, it’s also Peter’s recklessness that shows us that discipleship is not about being perfect and getting everything right. And in whom we see the assurance of God’s mercy and forgiveness when we mess up.

Our foundation is built upon the experiences and words of these ancestors in faith and followers of Jesus. It has been tested and is solid and remains intact.

In Luke’s gospel, Jesus tells the parable of the wise and foolish builders. He says,

⁴⁷ As for everyone who comes to me and hears my words and puts them into practice, I will show you what they are like. ⁴⁸ They are like a man building a house, who dug down deep and laid the foundation on rock. When a flood came, the torrent struck that house but could not shake it, because it was well built. ⁴⁹ But the one who hears my words and does not put them into practice is like a man who built a house on the ground without a foundation. The moment the torrent struck that house, it collapsed and its destruction was complete.” (Luke 6:47-49)

When a foundation is shallow, cracked or sunk, the integrity of its structure fails. It cannot bear the ordinary wear and tear of everyday life, let alone the challenges of sustained storms or trials.

Eleven years ago, the residents of a community in Iron Ridge in Lincoln County, North Carolina found this out the hard way. Torrential rains washed away a bridge that crossed a culvert to where 20 families lived. “After a couple of temporary repairs, a local contractor helped the residents restore the road to the way it had been.”[i] Last winter, it happened again and this time 25 families were stranded. The county put a temporary bridge in place, but it didn’t meet requirements, and they had to remove it. So, then they put in a footbridge. Residents had to park their vehicles on one side and walk or use four-wheelers to cross.

In the meantime, the crisis came to the attention of Mennonite Disaster Services (MDS) and Lutheran Disaster Response (LDR). The Mennonites had experience building bridges on private roads that had been washed out by floods and offered to come to Lincoln County to help, and they connected with Pastors Ray and Ruth Ann Sipe at Lutheran Disaster Response and the county’s Emergency Manager Mark Howell, who also happens to be an ELCA Lutheran. Together, with other partners, they were able to fund a new, larger and heavier bridge, built to support 38 tons.

The bridge opened on June 29 to the joy and relief of the residents. [ii]

The foundations of faith and trust led to relationships that literally connected people across obstacles and created new pathways.

As disciples, we are part of the household of God that is built upon the foundation of the prophets and the apostles. We have both a responsibility to see that it doesn’t erode or rust away into dust, and an imperative to trust its integrity. As our text says, God has placed Christ as the cornerstone. (Ephesians 2:20)

Christ, not our efforts or accomplishments, is the cornerstone. And Christ is the one who has gathered us, and who scatters us, and Christ is the one who invites us deeper into faith and discipleship.

As we look ahead to a new year of ministry, and as we anticipate a new strategic plan and priorities for our work as a congregation and in our community, may we have confidence that we already have the foundation necessary to support robust ideas and to bear the weight of our work. May we have courage to step out in faith, test new directions and try out new possibilities, knowing we are following our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.

Let us pray.

Good and gracious God,

Thank you for giving us faith built upon a firm foundation, strengthened through generations of faithful people.

Help us be good stewards of all you have first given us.

Deepen our own faith and give us courage to depend on you, listening to Your Word and your Holy Spirit.

We pray in Jesus’ name.

Amen.

[i] https://nclutheran.org/special_posts/a-story-of-partnerships/

[ii] ibid

Photos by Mark Howell, Emergency Manager, Lincoln County

Lectionary 23B

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

Marcos 7:24-37

Oremos…

Que las palabras de mi boca y las meditaciones de nuestro corazón sean aceptables ante tu vista, Señor, fortaleza y redentor nuestro. Amén.

En el seminario, una profesora dijo una vez: “Lo que ves depende de dónde te sientes”. Y sus palabras permanecen conmigo hoy.

En el evangelio de hoy, nos encontramos con una mujer sin nombre, madre de un niño enfermo, griega, no judía. Y ella ha oído hablar de Jesús.

Podemos imaginarnos que ella ha escuchado historias de cómo sanó a un hombre con un espíritu inmundo en la sinagoga y al hombre con lepra (Marcos 1) o cómo los amigos de otro hombre habían hecho un agujero en el techo de una casa para traer a un hombre paralítico a Jesús. (Marcos 2) Quizás había escuchado cómo sanaba en sábado, desafiando las prohibiciones religiosas. (Marcos 3) O cómo había sanado a un hombre poseído por un demonio en Gerasene. (Marcos 5) Incluso había sanado a una mujer y a una hija pequeña como la suya. (Marcos 5)

Desde donde estaba sentada, desesperada por ver a su hija restaurada, vio la esperanza encarnada en Jesús, cuyo poder parecía traspasar todos los límites o categorías.

Pero en esta historia, lo que vemos, cuando Jesús se encuentra con la mujer, no es el Jesús compasivo o amoroso que conocemos, Aquel cuyas historias ella había escuchado.

Vemos a un hombre que está exhausto por las largas horas de viaje, las exigencias de ser un maestro y líder público, y soportar las críticas de los líderes religiosos.

Buscando un lugar donde esconderse, Jesús no puede escapar de la atención y las necesidades del mundo herido que lo rodea. Y responde con enojo, arremetiendo contra la mujer y llamándola con un nombre despreciativo.

Tal vez te puedas identificar con los momentos en que la ira se desata y la paciencia se agota. Y hablas sin pensar o alejas a alguien con tus palabras.Pero la mujer no retrocede. En cambio, desafía a Jesús a hacer algo mejor: a ser el Mesías, el Ungido que, según ella, tiene el poder de salvar, sanar y restaurar.

Ella me recuerda a los salmistas que claman a Dios en un lamento. Presentan su queja y luego le piden ayuda a Dios, nombrando las formas en que Dios ha liberado a su pueblo en el pasado, pidiéndole que sea el Dios que conocen de sus antepasados ​​y que haga las mismas cosas que ellos saben que Dios puede hacer.

Y al escuchar a esta madre, Jesús vuelve en sí. Escucha su lamento y su súplica de misericordia para su hija. Y responde que ella ha sido sanada.

La segunda historia del evangelio nos muestra que lo que Jesús aprendió de la mujer y su hija lo cambió. No solo en el momento, sino de manera permanente.

Esta vez, cuando un hombre sordo es llevado ante Jesús en la Decápolis, una ciudad bajo influencia griega que está habitada principalmente por gentiles, Jesús no lo despide.

En cambio, lo lleva aparte y lo sana.

La palabra que le dice al hombre significa: “Ábrete”. Y aunque sus palabras abren los oídos del hombre, los efectos de sus palabras llegan más allá de ese hombre.

Así como Jesús tuvo que abrir su corazón para responder a la mujer y a su hija, todos los que seguimos a Jesús tenemos el desafío de “abrirnos”.

A considerar

que vemos las cosas de manera diferente de los demás debido a donde estamos sentados, y que debemos abrirnos a nuevos entendimientos o perspectivas;

que tenemos algo que aprender de las personas que encontramos;

y que podemos tener partes de nosotros mismos que están cerradas, y necesitamos que Jesús nos sane.

No es un lugar cómodo.

Es humilde.

Cuando nos vemos reflejados en las historias de la Biblia, ya sean las parábolas que enseña Jesús o historias como las del evangelio de hoy, nos gusta imaginar que somos los héroes o al menos las personas que están del lado “correcto” del conflicto. Es una de las razones por las que resulta tan difícil leer la historia del arresto y la crucifixión de Jesús durante la Semana Santa; somos culpables de querer silenciarlo y somos cómplices de condenarlo a muerte.

Es difícil reconocer que podríamos reaccionar con el mismo desprecio que Jesús exhibe en la primera historia que escuchamos hoy. O que podríamos estar de acuerdo con los expertos religiosos que quieren mantener a todos en sus categorías y casillas restrictivas.

Y es aún más difícil vernos a nosotros mismos como los que todavía estamos aprendiendo y cambiando en respuesta a lo que Dios está haciendo en nuestras vidas.

La Buena Noticia de hoy es que Jesús es un modelo de lo que significa aprender y responder a los demás con amor y humildad.

Tenemos un Salvador, que es a la vez completamente humano y completamente divino, que conoce la tentación de alejarse de los demás y prestar atención solo a nuestras necesidades individuales, y que aprende de sus errores y sirve a los demás incluso cuando hay un camino más fácil que nos llama como el canto de una sirena. Este es el Jesús que encontramos en los evangelios, y que nos da la bienvenida al reino de Dios con perdón y misericordia, y el que encarna la esperanza cuando sentimos que no tenemos a nadie más a quien recurrir.

Gracias a Dios.

Amén.

Mark 7:24-37

In seminary, a professor once said, “What you see depends on where you sit.” And her words remain with me today.

In today’s gospel, we meet a nameless woman, the mother of a sick child, a Greek, not a Jew. And she has heard about Jesus.

We can imagine that she has heard stories of how he healed a man with an unclean spirit in the synagogue and the man with leprosy (Mark 1) or how another man’s friends had cut a hole in the roof of a house to bring a paralyzed man to Jesus. (Mark 2) Perhaps she had heard how he healed on the Sabbath, defying the religious prohibitions. (Mark 3) Or how he had healed a demon-possessed man in Gerasene. (Mark 5) He had even healed a woman and a young daughter like her own. (Mark 5)

From where she sat, desperate to see her daughter restored, she saw hope embodied in Jesus, whose power seemed to cross all boundaries or categories.

But in this story, what we see, when Jesus meets the woman, isn’t the compassionate or loving Jesus we know, the One whose stories she had heard.

We see a man who is exhausted by the long hours of travel, the demands of being a public teacher and leader, and weathering the criticism of the religious leaders.

Searching for a place to hide, Jesus cannot escape the attention and needs of the hurting world around him. And he responds angrily, lashing out against the woman and calling her a disparaging name.

Maybe you can relate to times when anger runs hot, and patience runs thin. And you speak thoughtlessly or push somebody away with your words.

But the woman doesn’t flinch. Instead, she challenges Jesus to do better: to be the Messiah, the anointed One who she has heard has the power to save, to heal and to restore.

She reminds me of the psalmists who cry out to God in lament. They make their complaint and then they ask God for help, naming the ways God has delivered God’s people in the past, asking God to be the God whom they know from their ancestors, and do the very things they know God can do.

And listening to this mother, Jesus returns to himself. He hears her lament and her plea for mercy for her daughter. And he responds that she has been healed.

The second story in the gospel shows us that what Jesus learned from the woman and her daughter changed him. Not just in the moment, but permanently.

This time, when a deaf man is brought to Jesus in the Decapolis – a city under Greek influence that is mostly inhabited by Gentiles – Jesus doesn’t send him away. Instead, he takes him aside and heals him.

The word he speaks to the man means, “Be opened”. And while his words open the man’s ears, his words’ effects reach beyond that one man.

Just as Jesus had to open his heart to respond to the woman and her daughter, all of us who follow Jesus are challenged to “be opened.”

To consider

that we see things differently that others because of where we sit, and we must open ourselves to new understandings or perspectives;

that we have something to learn from the people we encounter;

and that we may have parts of ourselves that are closed, and we need Jesus to heal us.

It’s not a comfortable place.

It’s humbling.

When we see ourselves in the stories in the Bible, whether it’s the parables that Jesus teaches or stories like the ones in today’s gospel, we like to imagine we would be the heroes or at least the people who are on the “right” side of conflict. It’s one of the reasons it’s so difficult to read the story of Jesus’ arrest and crucifixion during Holy Week; we are guilty of wanting to silence him and we are complicit in putting him to death.

It's challenging to recognize that we might react with the same disdain that Jesus exhibits in the first story we heard today. Or that we might agree with the religious experts who want to keep everyone in their constricting categories and boxes.

And it’s even more difficult to see ourselves as the ones who are still learning and still changing in response to what God is doing in our lives.

The Good News today is that Jesus models what it looks like to learn and to respond to others with love and humility.

We have a Savior, who is both fully human and fully divine, who knows the temptation to turn away from others and only pay attention to our individual needs, and who learns from his errors and serves others even when there is an easier way beckoning like a Siren’s song. This is the Jesus we meet in the gospels, and who welcomes us into God’s kingdom with forgiveness and mercy, and the one who does embody hope when we feel like we have nowhere else to turn.

Thanks be to God. Amen.