El Día de Pentecostés

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

Hechos 2:1-21

Juan 20:19-23

Oremos…

Que las palabras de mi boca y las meditaciones de nuestros corazones sean aceptables ante tu presencia, Señor, fortaleza nuestra y redentor nuestro. Amén.

 

Pentecostés era originalmente la festividad judía que celebraba la cosecha y la entrega de la Ley en el Monte Sinaí, cincuenta días después de la Pascua.

En la tradición cristiana, cincuenta días después de la Pascua de Resurrección,

celebramos al Espíritu Santo como la presencia de Dios en nosotros y entre nosotros. (Sundays and Seasons)

 

El texto de los Hechos de los Apóstoles ofrece un hilo conductor que se repite año tras año en Pentecostés; sin embargo, este año lo escuchamos junto con el Evangelio según San Juan correspondiente a la tarde del Domingo de Pascua.

 

Cincuenta días después, podríamos olvidar fácilmente el miedo y la incertidumbre que se apoderaron de los discípulos tras la crucifixión. 

 

El Cuarto Evangelista nos recuerda que los amigos de Jesús estaban escondidos detrás de puertas cerradas con llave cuando Jesús se les apareció en una de sus primeras manifestaciones después de la resurrección.

 

Y mientras se encontraban allí reunidos, él les ofreció un saludo de paz y sopló sobre ellos,

diciéndoles: “Reciban el Espíritu Santo.” (v. 22)

 

Entre los acontecimientos de aquella primera noche y la escena que hoy nos presentan en el libro de los Hechos, los discípulos permanecieron en Jerusalén, continuando su convivencia con Jesús hasta el momento de su Ascensión (Hechos 1:6-11).

 

No tenemos un relato detallado de lo que aconteció durante ese tiempo; pero podemos imaginar que fue un tiempo de instrucción y enseñanza adicionales, destinado a preparar a los discípulos para la labor que tenían por delante. La narración se reanuda en este día festivo: el Día de Pentecostés.

 

Lucas nos relata que todas aquellas personas —provenientes de regiones remotas y distantes—estaban reunidas; y, sin embargo, cada una de ellas podía oír a los discípulos en su propio idioma, «proclamando las obras poderosas de Dios…» (v. 11).

 

Una manera de entender esta escena de Pentecostés es considerarla como la inversión del episodio de la Torre de Babel, descrito en el capítulo 11 del Génesis. Dicho libro nos narra que, cuando la humanidad entera «tenía un solo idioma y las mismas palabras», el pueblo intentó construir una torre para ascender hasta los cielos; pero Dios los humilló, confundiendo su lenguaje y dispersándolos por toda la faz de la tierra. (Gén. 11:9)

 

Ahora, el pueblo de Dios se ha reunido en un entendimiento compartido, unido por una sola ley y un solo Espíritu. 

 

En el Evangelio de Juan, los apóstoles reciben el aliento del Espíritu Santo y son capacitados para la obra del ministerio en el mundo.

 

Si respiran profundamente, permitiendo que su abdomen y su pecho se llenen de aire,

pueden imaginar el espacio que se creó en sus propios cuerpos al recibir ese aliento de Dios, vivificante y transformador.

 

A menudo, representamos el movimiento del Espíritu Santo con banderas que ondean suavemente o con molinillos que giran con ligereza; sin embargo, en el libro de los Hechos, el Espíritu Santo no es tan apacible.

 

En cambio, Lucas lo describe como «el estruendo de un viento impetuoso» (2:2) que llenó toda la casa donde estaban reunidos los discípulos.

 

El aliento puede ser suave, pero el viento es incontrolable: sopla con fuerza y desgarrando el aire ; puede ser dañino o destructivo, haciendo pedazos las cosas que se resisten a doblegarse.

 

Y así, tenemos ante nosotros esta imagen de un tremendo poder divino, desatado sobre y entre los discípulos en Jerusalén.

 

Por un acto puramente divino, la comunidad es impulsada hacia el mundo por el Espíritu Santo.

 

Tras haber recibido el Espíritu Santo, los seguidores de Jesús se transforman: dejan de ser testigos temerosos para convertirse en testigos valientes en el mundo (Brian Stoffregen).

 

Y, sin embargo, a veces sus caminos fueron peligrosos. Sus discursos eran objeto de burla. En ocasiones, eran arrestados y encarcelados. La comodidad no era una señal de su discipulado.

 

Al leer el texto de los Hechos, un predicador reflexionó: “Nuestra incomodidad no es un signo de la ausencia de Dios, sino de la actividad de Dios.”

 

Por lo tanto, al celebrar Pentecostés, espero que podamos sentir curiosidad por lo que Dios está haciendo aquí y ahora;

incluso —o tal vez, especialmente— en aquellos momentos en los que nos sentimos incómodos. 

 

Que Dios estreche nuestra imaginación respecto a quiénes somos y a quiénes estamos llamados a ser como pueblo suyo.

 

Mientras reflexionamos juntos, como congregación, sobre el ministerio al que hemos sido llamados, el pastor Mark nos ha ofrecido esta ilustración.

 

El año pasado, al sacar mi bicicleta después del invierno, me dirigí al sendero Ecusta Trail, en Horseshoe, y pronto descubrí que las ruedas estaban desinfladas. Todo el aire se había escapado y yo ni siquiera me había dado cuenta.

 

La bicicleta es una ilustración de nuestro trabajo conjunto como congregación. El aire en los llantas es esencial. Dios nos llena y nos envía.

 

La rueda trasera es donde se concentra toda la energía.

Esta lleva la etiqueta de “ministerio diario”; es la labor de toda la congregación, de cada uno de nosotros.

 

Y hay cuatro áreas en las que se desarrolla nuestro ministerio diario: discipulado, compañerismo, mayordomía y adoración.

Todo nuestro trabajo conjunto se sustenta en una pieza central llamada administración.

La rueda delantera es la que dirige la bicicleta, dándole rumbo, y lleva la etiqueta de “liderazgo”.

 

Volviendo a nuestras imágenes del Espíritu Santo como el aliento y el viento que nos capacita y nos envían al mundo, se les invita a mirar esta imagen y a reflexionar sobre qué áreas del ministerio podrían estar llamados a participar.

 

Tal vez sea la adoración, donde las personas sirven como músicos, ujieres, lectores y asistentes de la comunión.

o el compañerismo, al reflexionar sobre las formas de profundizar nuestras relaciones y cuidarnos mutuamente los unos a los otros;

o el discipulado, al considerar cómo aprendemos más acerca de quién nos llama Dios a ser;

o la mayordomía, donde consideramos cómo compartimos nuestros dones con la comunidad y cómo cuidamos aquello que Dios ya nos ha dado.

 

Por favor, escriban su nombre en el papel y marquen con un círculo dos áreas en las que creen que podrían servir.

 

Una de mis profesoras de predicación en el seminario, Karoline Lewis, dijo recientemente: “Pentecostés no es solo un día; Pentecostés es una forma de vida”. Creo que es una forma de vida compartida en la que decimos: “Ven, Espíritu Santo”, y observamos qué sucede después.

 

Oremos...

Dios del aliento y Dios del viento,

sopla sobre nosotros. Transfórmanos y ábrenos para recibir a tu Espíritu Santo.

Capacítanos envíanos como tus discípulos, para que el mundo te conozca y te ame.

Amén.

Acts 2:1-21

John 20:19-23

Let us pray…

May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable in your sight, Lord, our strength and our redeemer. Amen. 

 

Pentecost was originally the Jewish festival celebrating the harvest and the giving of the law on Mount Sinai fifty days after Passover. 

In the Christian tradition, fifty days after Easter, 

we celebrate the Holy Spirit as God’s presence within and among us. (Sundays and Seasons)

 

The Acts text provides a common thread year to year on Pentecost but this year, we hear it alongside the Johannine gospel from Easter evening. 

 

Fifty days later, we could easily forget the fear and uncertainty that seized the disciples after the crucifixion. The Fourth Evangelist reminds us that Jesus’ friends were hiding behind locked doors when Jesus appeared to them in one of his first appearances after the resurrection. And while they were gathered there together, he offered them a greeting of peace and he breathed on them, 

telling them, “Receive the Holy Spirit.” (v. 22)

 

Between the events of that first night, and the scene we get in Acts today, the disciples stayed in Jerusalem, continuing to spend time with Jesus until his ascension (Acts 1:6-11). 

 

We don’t have a detailed account of what took place during that time; but we can imagine it was a time of further instruction and teaching, preparing the disciples for the work ahead of them. The narrative resumes on this feast day, the Day of Pentecost.

 

Luke tells us that all the people were together from far-flung, distant regions, and yet each of them could hear the disciples in their own languages “speaking about God’s deeds of power….” (v. 11). 

 

One way to understand this scene of Pentecost is as a reversal of the tower of Babel that is described in Genesis 11. Genesis says that when all humanity “had one language and the same words”, the people tried to build a tower to ascend to the heavens, but God humbled them, confusing their language and scattering them abroad over the face of all the earth. (Gen. 11:9)  

 

Now God’s people have come together in shared understanding, united by one law and one Spirit.

 

In John’s gospel the apostles receive the breath of the Holy Spirit and are empowered for the work of ministry in the world. 

If you will breathe deeply, letting your belly and chest fill with air, 

you can imagine the space that was created in their own bodies as they received that life-giving, transforming breath of God. 

 

Often, we show the movement of the Holy Spirit with gently waving banners or lightly spinning pinwheels, but the Holy Spirit is not that subdued in Acts. 

 

Instead, Luke describes it as a “the rush of a violent wind” (2:2) that filled the whole house where the disciples were gathered. 

 

Breath may be gentle, but wind is uncontrollable, gusting and tearing through the air; it can be damaging or destructive, breaking things apart if they will not bend. 

 

And so, we have this image of tremendous divine power, unleashed upon and among the disciples in Jerusalem. 

By the sheer act of God, the community is swept out into the world by the Holy Spirit.

 

Having received the Holy Spirit, Jesus’ followers are changed from fearful to fearless witnesses in the world. (Stoffregen)

 

And yet, sometimes their journeys were dangerous. Their speeches were mocked. Sometimes they were arrested and jailed. Comfort was not a mark of their discipleship. 

 

Reading the Acts text, one preacher reflected that “our discomfort isn’t a sign of God’s absence, but of God’s activity.” 

 

So, as we celebrate Pentecost, I hope we can be curious about what God is doing here and now – 

even, or maybe especially, when we may be uncomfortable. 

May God stretch our imagination about who we are and who we are called to be as God’s people. 

 

As we think together as a congregation about the ministry we are called to, Pastor Mark has offered this illustration.

Last year, when I got my bike out after the winter, I headed over to the Ecusta Trail in Horseshoe, and quickly discovered the tires were flat. All the air had leaked out and I hadn’t even noticed. 

 

The bicycle is an illustration of our work together as a congregation. The air in the tires is essential. God fills us up and sends us out.

 

The rear wheel is where all the energy goes.

That is labeled “daily ministry”; it is the work of the whole congregation, every one of us.

 

And there are four areas that our daily ministry falls into- discipleship, fellowship, stewardship and worship.

All of our work together is supported by a central piece called administration.

The front wheel is what steers the bicycle, giving it direction, and it’s labeled “leadership”.

 

Returning to our images of Holy Spirit as the breath and wind that is empowering us and sending us out into the world, you are invited to look at this image and think about which ministry areas you may be called into. 

 

Maybe it’s worship where people serve as musicians, greeters, readers and communion assistants; 

or fellowship as we think about ways to deepen relationships with each other and care for each other; 

or discipleship as we look at how we learn more about who God calls us to be; 

or stewardship, where we look at how we share our gifts with the community and how we care for what God has given us already.

 

Please write your name on the paper and circle two areas where you think you could serve.

 

One of my seminary preaching professors Karoline Lewis said recently that, “Pentecost is not just a day, Pentecost is a way of life”. I think it is a way of life together where we say, “Come, Holy Spirit” and see what happens next. 

 

Let us pray…

God of breath and God of wind, 

Breathe on us. Change us and open us to receive your Holy Spirit.

Empower us and send us out as your disciples that the world would know and love you. 

Amen.

Lectionary 16B

Mark 6:30-34, 53-56

For most of the last week, I’ve been fighting a summer cold, 
armed with hot tea and honey.

So, perhaps that’s why, as I listened to this week’s gospel, what caught my attention was how the crowds chased after Jesus and the disciples, reaching the shores ahead of them to be in their presence, clamoring to be heard and scrambling to touch even the fringe of Jesus’ cloak, so that they would be healed.

And I remembered that in Greek, the word translated here as “healed”, as in “all who touched it were healed” is the same word as “saved”. All those who touched the fringe of his cloak were saved.

I thought about all the different reasons we search for healing. Just within the gospel text, we see different examples.

Many of the people coming to Jesus were physically ailing, but some may have also been suffering mental illness. And the disciples themselves were trying to retreat for renewal after their ministry work had left them with no time for rest, or even a meal.

Sometimes we look for healing because like the crowds chasing Jesus and the disciples, we’re physically hurt or we’re sick: with cancer, with chronic pain, with addiction.

Sometimes we seek healing because we’ve experienced trauma, abuse or neglect, or, like the disciples, we are exhausted or burnt-out.

And sometimes we seek healing because we are grieving broken or difficult relationships.

And as I thought about all the reasons why we seek healing, I thought about all the places where we look for healing.

Maybe, we’re lucky and we find our way to a twelve-step meeting in a church basement, or maybe we find peace in the sanctuary of a professional therapist’s office. Unfortunately, too often, when people are desperate to find healing, they try to find a faster way or a shortcut and fall victim to schemes.

When Luther went to Rome he was disgusted by priests like Johann Tetzel, who reportedly “preached to the faithful that the purchase of a letter of indulgence entailed the forgiveness of sins.”[i] People who were afraid of being cast out of God’s love and mercy would pay money to buy a so-called assurance of their salvation.

And the practice didn’t end with the Reformation.

There are modern accounts by the Lutheran World Federation of “people pay[ing] the pastor for praying for them to be cured from illness” in India, and just a few years ago, “People apparently paid 100,000 Namibian dollars to sit next to [a preacher called “the prophet of Namibia”], because they hoped to be healed.[ii] 

Certainly, as with any scam, education reduces the risk that vulnerable people will be harmed by people who would exploit them. But why are they so desperate that they are compelled to look for healing there in the first place?

There’s an old saying, sometimes attributed to Bishop Desmond Tutu, that says,

There comes a point where we need to stop just pulling people out of the river. We need to go upstream and find out why they’re falling in.

The hope we have from today’s gospel is that hurting people will find Christ’s healing presence in our congregations and faith communities   ̶

that God’s people will communicate the good news of God’s healing grace to everyone who walks through our doors;

that we would see their pain or sadness,

and we would have compassion for them.

But the conviction I have from today’s gospel is that too often,

they don’t.

And too often, we don’t.

Ouch. Believe me, I’m right there, wanting to say, “not my church.” “not my congregation.” But I know I need to check myself when I get defensive, because I also know I can name times when my first response wasn’t compassion, it wasn’t what Jesus models.

Too often, the vulnerable show up in our churches and find judgment and suspicion, and even rejection and hostility. And instead of being told they are children of God who are loved and saved by God’s grace, they hear that they don’t belong or aren’t welcome.

That’s not Jesus.

Jesus sees the crowd and has compassion for them.

He is moved, by their presence, by their suffering and by their need, to be with them where they are.

He stretches out his hands to them and gathers them in, teaching and healing them.

He offers them belonging first.

God loves us, and God’s mercy is new every day, so today we can repent for the times when we have failed to show compassion, and the times when we have not welcomed the stranger or loved our neighbor as God loves them. It is never too late to start.

May we stretch ourselves to reach for those who are reaching for Jesus’ healing grace and gather them into God’s family.

Amen.

---

[i] https://www.britannica.com/biography/Martin-Luther/The-indulgences-controversy , accessed 7/20/2024

[ii] https://2017.lwfassembly.org/en/news/regional-stories/false-promises-salvation, accessed 7/20/24.

Fourteenth Sunday after Pentecost / Lectionary 23A

Matthew 18: 15-20

When I hear this gospel, I cannot help but hear it in the context of church discipline; in our model constitution in the ELCA, these verses provide the framework for the discipline of church members. On our first hearing of the text, it comes across as “three strikes and you’re out” —a lot of law, not a lot of gospel, and, frankly, not a very interesting sermon text.

The first strike isn’t even the sin. While Jesus says these are the steps to take “if” someone sins against you, we know there’s no “if”. In our human condition, we will sin.

So, Jesus says that when another person sins against you, first you should address them one on one. If he or she cannot hear you, that’s strike one.

If they cannot hear you, then you should find two or three witnesses to accompany you and try again. If he or she still cannot hear you, that’s strike two.

The next step is to bring the matter before the church for resolution. And if he or she still cannot hear you, that’s strike three.

It is only after these three failed attempts – one on one, with witnesses and as the corporate body of Christ –that you treat the person as you would a Gentile or a tax collector.

Three strikes and you’re out.

But that doesn’t sound like the same Jesus who had just told his disciples in verse 14, “It is not the will of your Father in heaven that one of these little ones should be lost. (Matt. 18:14)

So this morning, I want to invite you to ask a couple of questions about the text, and then hear the text as if you have never heard it before.

The first question I want you to ask is , “Why is Jesus talking about this now?” Immediately before this he told the disciples the parable of the lost sheep where the shepherd leaves the 99 to find the lost one. And next week we will hear Peter ask how many times he should forgive. Matthew is the only gospel writer to include this conversation; we don’t know why the other gospel writers don’t include it, but it could suggest that Matthew was trying to address conflict that was happening in his community in the late first century.

The second question to ask is, “Who is Jesus talking to?” We know he’s talking to his disciples, but it’s helpful also to remember that what Matthew calls the church would have been small house churches of a dozen or so people who gathered together. Many of them might have been extended families. There weren’t congregations with hundreds, or even dozens, of people during Matthew’s lifetime. There were none of the denominations, confessional doctrines or even creeds that we associate with the capital-C Church today.

That’s also why in my reading, I used the words “brother or sister” instead of a “member of the church” which is what you find in the New Revised Standard Version translation in verse 15. The Greek word used here is ἀδελφός  which actually means “brother”. Translating the word as “brother or sister” helps us remember that, in Christ, we are all adopted as children of God, siblings to one another, in one family.

So now, as we listen to this passage, instead of hearing it as policy for the institutional church, let’s try to hear Matthew speaking to the small communities and families of Jesus’ followers who were gathered around Word and Table.

While we like to imagine churches as places where peace and goodwill prosper, we know families squabble. Generations of family linked together by blood and DNA and church families too. That doesn’t surprise us and it didn’t shock Jesus either. Whenever there is a group of people gathered together there is going to be disagreement.

In our communities of faith we have used this text as prescriptive policy for church discipline. And, because Pharisaic law looked at Gentiles and tax collectors as either unclean or unrepentant and cast them out of community, we have heard this instruction as if Jesus was saying, “If the sinner doesn’t listen to you, cast them out.” Excommunicate them. Cut off fellowship with them. Banish them.

But again, does that sound like the Jesus you know?

When we look to Scripture to see how Jesus dealt with Gentiles and tax collectors, we see where tradition says that Matthew himself was a tax collector and yet he was called as one of the twelve apostles. (Matthew 10)

And Luke tells us Jesus called to Zacchaeus who was a chief tax collector and had dinner at his house. (Luke 19)

And the woman who spoke to Jesus a few weeks ago about the crumbs from the table was a Gentile. (Matthew 15:22)

So it turns out that Jesus did not cast out the Gentile or the tax collector, but instead broke bread with them, listened to their pleading, and loved them.

So when he tells his followers, “let such a one be to you like a Gentile or a tax collector”, perhaps what he is telling us is to love the person with the love of Christ.

What’s clear is that he does not say, “Break off relationship and never talk to them again.”

But all too often, in the church, we don’t follow Jesus’ teaching. We get it wrong from day one.

There are times we wound another person deliberately and the need for confession and forgiveness, and for reconciliation is obvious.

And there are circumstances, such as physical violence, murder or rape, when these gentler steps toward reconciliation do not apply.

But often, we may not know what we have done or how deeply we have hurt another person.

As we say in the confession at Compline, “Some of my sin I know – the thoughts and words and deeds of which I am ashamed – but some is known only to God.”

Someone may be wounded, and we may not be able to see the pain we have inflicted upon them.

Jesus would have the person who is wounded confront the person who sinned against them.

But that isn’t the way our world, or our congregations, function most of the time. Instead, the wounded person turns to a third person or a group of people and vents their anger and frustration there. We create triangles and talk about each other, instead of speaking directly with one another. We fastidiously avoid confrontation.

But here’s the thing, as Michael Chan writes, “to deny someone God’s corrective word is every bit as sinful as the deed under scrutiny.”[i] As siblings in Christ, we do not confront one another to point out sin and pile on shame, judgment and condemnation. Instead we are called to name the sin that we see so that the person may be convicted or “convinced and confident that [the evidence] is true.”

When we confront the sinner, our goal is conviction, not condemnation; conviction that leads to Godly sorrow and repentance.[ii]

When I discover that I have wounded someone else, either through reflection or because it is brought to my attention, it is painful because that isn’t how I want to love others.

But it is even more painful to discover too late that someone has been hurt and is suffering and I didn’t know. All too often when that happens the wounded person has churned in frustration, only to get fed up and break off relationship, angry, hurt and disillusioned. The path to reconciliation is much more difficult then.

In today’s gospel, Jesus offers us a way to be a community of Christ followers, reconciled with one another and united in faith.

Jesus doesn’t promise that we won’t hurt each other and that it won’t be messy – lives lived in relationship are going to be messy – but he promises that faithful and loving community in Christ is possible. In fact, this whole passage is about choosing the kind of community we want to be: divided or united.

The later verses are ones that we again often hear out of context. It’s hard to hear the Good News in Jesus’ promise that “if two of you agree on earth about anything you ask, it will be done” if you can recall a time when you prayed for something and your prayers went unanswered.

But in the context of pursuing reconciled relationships and restoration to community, what Jesus tells us is that if the two or three who have been in conflict can come together in prayer and be unified in faith, God is there with them and listening to their prayers.

The Good News that Jesus promises here is not that God will answer our prayers by giving us everything we ask, but that God cares about our relationships with one another, and is with us, even when we are in conflict. God is listening and watching and working in and through us, even in our brokenness and imperfections.

Instead of “three strikes and you’re out”, Jesus reminds us to “try, try and try again.”

Let us pray…

Good and gracious God,

Thank you for your Son Jesus who reconciles us to You and through whom we know mercy and forgiveness.

Teach us to live as siblings together in community, and love each other as Christ loves us.

Give us courage to boldly name our sin and pursue redemption and reconciliation with those who we hurt.

We pray in the name of Jesus Christ, our Savior and Lord. 

Amen.

[i] Michael J. Chan. Dear Working Preacher. Luther Seminary.

[ii] Notes from lectures by Dr. Shanitria Cuthbertson in the NC Synod Racial Justice Network’s course “The Hidden Curriculum of White Supremacy”

Twelfth Sunday after Pentecost / Lectionary 21A

Matthew 16: 13-20

Today’s gospel reminds us to listen to the whole biblical narrative with an ear for who gets named, or re-named, and who is left nameless in the background.

Matthew’s gospel gives us lots of opportunities for this kind of listening, beginning with the genealogy of Jesus, which includes, by name, three Canaanite women — women who we learned last week would have been outside the Jewish community. (Matt.1-17) But it’s not only in Matthew; throughout Scripture we hear people renamed by God: Abram is re-named Abraham (Genesis 17:5); Jacob is re-named Israel (Gen. 35:10); and Saul is renamed Paul (Acts 13:9)

And in today’s gospel, after the disciple Simon makes his confession of faith, Jesus renames him Peter, which comes from the Greek petra or rock.

This is the same disciple who a few weeks back nearly sank in the stormy sea and was called out by Jesus for having little faith.

The same Peter who, we know, will not want to hear Jesus tell of his death and resurrection. (Matt. 16:22)

The same Peter who, we know, will want to stay on the mountaintop at the Transfiguration when Jesus is illuminated, and God speaks from the heavens. (Matt. 17)

The same Peter who, we know, will deny Jesus three times at his arrest. (Matt. 26)

This often-reckless, selfish, and imperfect disciple is the one whom Jesus calls “the rock” and says, “I will build my church upon you.” (v. 18)

I found myself wondering what Jesus meant. Scholars debate whether Jesus spoke of Peter himself, the foundational confession that Peter makes here, or something else entirely.[i]

During our lectionary study earlier this week, one of my colleagues called Peter “Peter the blockhead.” Maybe you remember that “blockhead” was a favorite insult by the Peanuts gang in the comic by Charles M. Shulz. Lucy calls Charlie Brown a blockhead and his teammates pile on him, blaming him for losing the baseball game. His little sister Sally calls Linus a blockhead for ruining her Halloween. Calling someone a blockhead was another way of saying, “You got it all wrong.”[ii]

The image of “Peter the blockhead” being the rock upon which the Church is built has stuck with me, precisely because sometimes Peter got it all wrong, and Jesus loved him anyway.

Reflecting the meaning of the metaphor, another pastor described her family’s experience of trying to build rock cairns, the stacked towers of stones that you can find in all different places, built for all different reasons. I’ve seen them near mountain trails and in rivers, signposts that a place has meaning. In their attempts to build cairns, two things stood out to her; first, despite their appearances, the rocks didn’t have any perfectly flat surfaces, which made it really difficult to stack them evenly and keep them from slipping and tumbling over. And second, she confessed that trying to find ways to balance them tested her family’s patience and they gave up. [iii]

Like those precarious rock cairns, the Church that we have today is filled with its own imperfections and rough edges and sometimes it feels like it wouldn’t take much to make it come tumbling down.  There are gaps where the gospel that we proclaim doesn’t match up with the witness of our lives. And sometimes it is enough to cause us to lose patience, throw up our hands in frustration and even want to give up and walk away.

But God doesn’t give up. Not on Peter and not on us.

God is still here among all of us imperfect, rough-around-the-edges people. In fact, God calls us “precious living stones” (1 Peter 2:5) and works through us to build the Church that we may continue to tell the world how much God loves us all.

A third image comes from earlier in Matthew 7, in a part of the Sermon on the Mount that we didn’t get to hear this year; it’s where Jesus says,

24 "Everyone then who hears these words of mine and acts on them will be like a wise man who built his house on rock.  25 The rain fell, the floods came, and the winds blew and beat on that house, but it did not fall, because it had been founded on rock.  (Matt. 7:24-25)

Too often, in our sin, in our self-centered failure to trust God, and our temptation to listen to lies and evil that would destroy what is given by God, we question why God would try to build anything with us or entrust this life-giving Gospel to us. But God is a God of wisdom, not foolishness, and God has built on rock, a solid foundation grounded in faith.

In The Message translation of this passage, Eugene Peterson writes that Jesus told Simon, “I’m going to tell you who you really are.” Who you really are in God’s eyes. Not who others say you are, not who you appear to be on your clumsiest or least grace-filled day, but who God says you are. There are times when we are blockheads. There are times when we stumble and fall down or get knocked down. But the God who loves us sees all of our imperfections, knows our sins before we even commit them, and forgives us abundantly.

The ekklesia or Church is the community united by faith in this Good News, in God’s saving action for each one of us. And Jesus has placed the Church into our hearts and hands, that our neighbors and community would know it too.

Let us pray…

Good and gracious God,
Thank you for your Son Jesus who sees us and calls us by name. Thank you for your abundant grace that sees our imperfections and the works through us anyway.
Teach us to trust your wisdom and share your Good News that our neighbors will know Your love.
We pray in the name of Jesus Christ, our Savior and Lord.
Amen.

[i] Audrey West. “Commentary on Matthew 16:13-20.” Workingpreacher.org.

[ii] There is even a book published in the 1960s called The Gospel According to the Peanuts; the author Robert Short was a Presbyterian minister and Lutheran pastor Martin Marty wrote the foreword.

[iii] “A stack of rough stones.” Liddy Barlow, “Sunday’s Coming,” The Christian Century.