Showing posts with label Mark. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mark. Show all posts

Sunday, November 17, 2024

Lectionary 33B

Mark 13:1-8

Today, we are nearing the end of our lectionary year centered in Mark’s gospel, and it’s the last Sunday we’ll hear from Mark, before we celebrate the Reign of Christ next Sunday and begin Advent after Thanksgiving.

When Mark wrote his gospel, his audience would have been accustomed to hearing stories told about Jesus and his ministry. But Mark’s Gospel is the first written account we have. We believe it was written in response to changes he witnessed.

We don’t know for certain what changed – it appears from things Mark says in this chapter that there were false teachers claiming to come in Jesus’ name but leading believers down wrong paths, and there were believers being persecuted and arrested, silencing their witness and testimony. Whatever was happening, now it was important to have a reliable written record of the “good news of Jesus Christ” (1:1).

Today we get to eavesdrop on Jesus. He has moved away from the crowd and is in what Mark describes as a private conversation. You know what this looks like. Four of his disciples pulled him aside to ask him what he meant when he told the others that the great buildings surrounding them would be destroyed.

But, when Peter, James, John and Andrew ask Jesus to tell them, “…when will this be, and what will be the sign that all these things are about to be accomplished?” (v. 4) Jesus tells them, there isn’t a clear sign. There will be betrayal. There will be alarming rumors. There will be disasters.

But the obvious, unambiguous sign they are looking for doesn’t exist.

The only assurance Jesus gives them is that the turmoil will not last forever.

We don’t know what turmoil Jesus is referring to. He may have been recalling earthquakes and famines in the same timeframe as we think of the Dust Bowl or the Great Depression. Or wars from decades earlier – in our context, it would be like talking about the Korean conflict today - or any number of more immediate, local disputes put down by Roman authorities. In any case, he was referring to historical events that shape our narrative. It’s all the stories that we carry around with us that have shaped how we look at the world.

And then Jesus says,

“This is but the beginning of the birth pangs.” (v. 8)

And there is The Good News. Birth pangs hurt, but they are necessary for new life to enter the world. And “God is always about the business of making new futures possible.”[i]

Last Saturday, our younger child, Emerson, took the GRE. Emerson is applying to graduate school and the test is one of the requirements. The scores for two of the three parts were available immediately, but we’re all waiting for the third part to be graded.

Waiting is hard.

You can guess what choices you may have, but everything is one giant question mark. There are so many unknowns. And it can be excruciating if you fall into the trap of wondering, “What if…”

Like Peter, James, John and Andrew, we want to know what the future holds. We want certainty, assurance and clear direction. It makes us anxious to realize how little we know and how little we control.

What Jesus reminds the disciples, and us, is that faith calls us to trust God. We can have confidence that the future will be what God ordains for us. As Jesus teaches in his Sermon on the Mount, none of us can add even a single hour to our lives by worrying. (Mt. 6:27)

What we can be certain of is God’s love for each one of us.

We may not have signs of what will come next, but the signs of God’s love for us are all around us. They are in the prayers that are said when we are sick, grieving or scared. They are in the time given to mentor a student or spend time with one as a study buddy. They are in the gifts of skills and knowledge shared in ministries every day in our congregation – people who know how to read financial statements and help us be good stewards of financial gifts; people whose gifts of hospitality welcome others and foster a place of belonging; people who enliven our music and worship; and people who help us stay connected with our community partners and know how we can best help our neighbors.

All of these signs point to a God-given future, one we can anticipate with unwavering faith and hope.

Let us pray…

Good and gracious God,

Help us always to follow Jesus

and not be led astray by imposters or false promises.

Draw us near to You and

open our eyes to the signs of Your love that surround us.

Show us how to share the Good News of Your Love through our words and actions.

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

Amen.


[i] Amanda Brobst-Renaud. “Commentary on Mark 13:1-8”. Working Preacher. Luther Seminary.

Sunday, November 10, 2024

Lectionary 32B

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

Marcos 12:38-44

Oremos…Que las palabras de mi boca y la meditación de nuestro corazón sean gratas delante de ti, Señor, fortaleza nuestra y redentor nuestro. Amén.

“No tengas temor”. (1 Reyes 17:13)

Estas palabras se repiten a lo largo de las Escrituras. Las escuchamos por primera vez cuando el Señor le habla a Abram (Génesis 15:1) y son repetidas, una y otra vez, por Dios y los enviados de Dios. La última vez es cuando Juan de Patmos relata haberlas oído dichas por “uno como el Hijo del Hombre” en Apocalipsis. (Apocalipsis 1:17)

Y una y otra vez, son seguidas por la promesa de que Dios actuará, que el reino de Dios vendrá, que Dios no ha olvidado las promesas de Dios a su pueblo.

Hoy escuchamos al profeta Elías decir estas palabras.

Elías había estado viviendo de la comida que le traían los cuervos y del agua de un wadi, o arroyo, pero el agua se había secado. Una sequía hizo que el agua y la comida escasearan.

Pero Dios envía al profeta a una viuda en Sarepta, un pueblo fuera de Israel, prometiéndole que lo alimentará. Cuando Elías se encuentra con la mujer, ella le dice que ella y su hijo solo tienen un poco de harina y aceite, y se están preparando para comer lo que tienen y luego esperar a morir.

En el mundo antiguo, la gente creía que el rey podía controlar la lluvia, por lo que una sequía era una señal del fracaso del rey. El rey también era responsable del bienestar de las viudas y los huérfanos, por lo que cuando la viuda le dice a Elías que ella y su hijo se están muriendo de hambre, es otra señal del fracaso del rey.

Pero Elías sabe que su confianza no está en los líderes del mundo, sino en Dios, y Dios lo ha enviado a la viuda. Confía en la provisión de Dios para él. Su confianza surge de su obediencia a seguir la dirección de Dios. Su obediencia surge de su confianza en la fidelidad de Dios a lo largo de las generaciones hacia el pueblo de Dios. Surge de saber que pertenece a Dios.

Entonces le dice: “No tengas temor”.

Y la jarra de comida no se agota, ni falta el aceite , y la viuda, su hijo y Elías comen muchos días más.

En el evangelio nos encontramos con otra viuda. No está en casa, sino en público, donando al tesoro. El tesoro era un lugar en un patio fuera del templo donde la gente podía hacer ofrendas voluntarias para apoyar el templo, como el plato de ofrendas que tenemos sobre la mesa aquí.

Jesús está en los atrios del templo, enseñando a una gran multitud y observando a la gente depositar sus ofrendas en el tesoro.

Y mientras observa, advierte a su audiencia contra los líderes religiosos que son como actores que desempeñan un papel. Saben qué decir y cómo vestirse, pero sus palabras y acciones son vacías. Dan desde un lugar de comodidad y tranquilidad, sin sacrificar nada ni arriesgar nada.

Cuando Jesús ve a una viuda depositar dos pequeñas monedas de cobre, les dice a sus discípulos que “[ella] ha depositado más que todos [los demás]”.

Jesús dice que el regalo de la viuda era un regalo sacrificial, no, como los regalos que muchos de nosotros hacemos, dando de lo que sabemos que podemos prescindir, sino dando de lo que Dios nos ha dado primero, confiando en la providencia de Dios para ella.

Estos personajes no nos dan un modelo fácil de seguir.

Elías y las dos viudas confían en la providencia de Dios. Su confianza surge de su obediencia a seguir la dirección de Dios. Su obediencia surge de la confianza en la fidelidad de Dios a través de las generaciones hacia el pueblo de Dios. Proviene de saber que pertenecemos a Dios.

Por supuesto, el mundo moderno tiene un mensaje diferente. Nos dice que somos responsables de asegurar nuestro futuro a través de nuestros propios esfuerzos. Almacenar, ahorrar y protegernos de nuestros enemigos. Mirar hacia dentro y poner nuestra confianza en los líderes que vemos en la plaza pública. El mundo nos pide que le demos a los humanos autoridad sobre nuestras vidas y nos enseña a ver el mundo a través del lente de la escasez y el miedo.

Pero Dios nos enseña que en Cristo no recibimos “un espíritu de esclavitud para volver al temor, sino… un espíritu de adopción”. El Espíritu da testimonio de que somos hijos de Dios. (Romanos 8:15-16)

Somos a quienes Jesús se dirige cuando dice: “32 No tengan miedo, manada pequeña, porque a su Padre le ha placido darles el reino”.

La Palabra de Dios nos invita a tener una visión diferente del mundo, donde nos sometamos a Dios y veamos el mundo como Dios lo ve, a través del lente de la abundancia y la obediencia.

La escasez no es una realidad del Reino; es una construcción humana que Elías rechaza y que la viuda en el tesoro del templo niega. En cambio, Dios nos promete la plenitud de la vida (Juan 10:10). Sus historias nos recuerdan que el “poder vivificante de Dios puede transformar situaciones de derrota, desesperación y muerte”.i

“El Reino -o Reinado- de Dios es una realidad que está más allá de nuestra percepción…”ii Y en lugar de tratar de controlarlo, diseñarlo o dominarlo, Dios nos llama a caminar en sumisión, humildad y obediencia, mientras esperamos su realización, en el tiempo de Dios, no en el nuestro.

Oremos…

Dios bueno y misericordioso,

Te damos gracias por nuestro pan de cada día,

por lo que necesitamos para vivir en la plenitud de la vida.

Ayúdanos a rechazar las cosas que no dan vida,

las cosas que nos separan de ti.

Enséñanos a confiar en tu provisión y en la vida que nos das.

Que tu Espíritu Santo nos guíe a dar generosamente de todo lo que tenemos.

Envíanos a compartir tu amor con todas las personas que conozcamos.

Oramos en el nombre de Jesús.

Amén.



[i] Walter Brueggemann. Smith & Helwys Bible Commentary on First and Second Kings. 217.

[ii] Mike Breen. Covenant and Kingdom: The DNA of the Bible. 3DM. Kindle Edition.



 

Mark 12:38-44

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.

“Do not be afraid.”

These words are repeated throughout Scripture. We first hear them when the Lord speaks to Abram (Genesis 15:1) and they are repeated, again and again, by God and those sent by God. The last occurrence is when John of Patmos recounts hearing them spoken by “one like the Son of Man” in Revelation. (Revelation 1:17)

And time after time, they are followed by the promise that God will act, that God’s kingdom will come, that God has not forgotten God’s promises to God’s people.

Today we hear the prophet Elijah speak these words.

Elijah had been living on the food that ravens brought him and the water of a wadi, or stream, but the water had dried up. A drought made water and food scarce.

But God sends the prophet to a widow in Zarephath, a town outside Israel, promising that she will feed him. When Elijah meets the woman, she tells him that she and her son only have a little meal and oil, and they are preparing to eat what they have and then wait to die.

In the ancient world, people believed that the king could control the rain, so a drought was a sign of the king’s failure. The king also had responsibility for the welfare of widows and orphans, so when the widow tells Elijah that she and her son are starving, it is another sign of the king’s failure.

But Elijah knows that his trust is not in the leaders of the world, but in God, and God has sent him to the widow. He trusts in God’s provision for him. His trust comes out of his obedience to follow God’s direction. His obedience comes from his confidence in God’s faithfulness throughout generations to God’s people. It comes from knowing that he belongs to God.

So, he tells her, “Do not be afraid.”

And the jar of meal does not get emptied, and the oil does not fail, and the widow, her son and Elijah eat for many more days.

In the gospel we meet another widow. She isn’t at home, but in public, donating to the treasury. The treasury was a place in a courtyard outside the temple where people could make freewill offerings to support the temple, like the offering plate we have on the table here.

Jesus is in the temple courts, teaching a large crowd, and watching people put their offerings in the treasury.

And as he watches, he warns his audience against the religious leaders who are like performers playing a role. They know what to say and how to dress, but their words and actions are empty. They give from a place of comfort and ease, not sacrificing anything, or risking anything.

When Jesus sees a widow put in two small copper coins, he tells his disciples that “[she] has put in more than all those [others].”

Jesus says that because the widow’s gift was a sacrificial gift, not, as many of us do, giving from what we know we can spare, but giving from what God has first given us, trusting in God’s providence for her.

These characters don’t give us an easy model to follow.

Elijah and both widows trust in God’s providence. Their trust comes out of their obedience to follow God’s direction. Their obedience comes out of confidence in God’s faithfulness throughout generations to God’s people. It comes from knowing that we belong to God.

Of course, the modern world has a different message. It tells us that we are responsible for securing our future through our own efforts. Stockpile, save and protect ourselves against our enemies. Turn inward and put our trust in the leaders whom we see in the public square. The world asks us to give humans authority over our lives and teaches us to see the world through the lens of scarcity and fear.

But God teaches us that in Christ, we do not receive “a spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but … a spirit of adoption.” The Spirit bears witness that we are children of God. (Romans 8:15-16)

We are the ones that Jesus addresses when he says, “32 ‘Do not be afraid, little flock, for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom.”

The Word of God invites us to have a different vision of the world, where we submit to God and see the world as God sees it, through the lens of abundance and obedience.

Scarcity is not a Kingdom reality; it is human construction that Elijah rejects and that the widow at the temple treasury denies. Instead, God promises us the fullness of life (John 10:10). Their stories remind us that God’s “life-giving power can transform situations of defeat, despair, and death.”[i]

“The Kingdom - or Kingship - of God is a reality just beyond our perception….”[ii] And instead of trying to control it, engineer it or dominate it, God calls us to walk in submission, humility and obedience, while we wait for its realization, in God’s own timing, not our own.

Let us pray…

Good and Gracious God,

We give you thanks for our daily bread,

for what we need to live in the fullness of life.

Help us reject the things that are not life-giving,

the things that separate us from you.

Teach us to trust in Your provision and the life you give us.

May your Holy Spirit lead us to give generously of all we have.

Send us out to share Your love with everyone we meet.
We pray in Jesus’ name.

Amen.



[i] Walter Brueggemann. Smith & Helwys Bible Commentary on First and Second Kings. 217.

[ii] Mike Breen. Covenant and Kingdom: The DNA of the Bible. 3DM. Kindle Edition.


Sunday, October 20, 2024

Lectionary 29B

Mark 10:35-45

Do you remember being in school and the teacher would begin to ask a question, and a hand would shoot up before the teacher had finished talking? There was always someone ready to jump in, eager to impress but not stopping to listen to what was being said.

James and John, even though they’re grown men, are like those overly excited school children tugging on Jesus’ robes, urging him to choose them, to bless them, to give them the influence or authority - the power - that he has.

Telling Jesus, “We want you to do whatever we ask of you”, they are oblivious to the weight, or burden, of the yoke – the responsibility - that comes with their desires. They cannot see past their own egos to understand what they are asking Jesus to do.

The self-centeredness that James and John display is at the very center of what Martin Luther defined as sin. He called it “incurvatus in se”, or being "curved in on ourselves".

And CS Lewis in his preface to Screwtape Letters writes,

We must picture Hell as a state where everyone is perpetually concerned about his own dignity and advancement, where everyone has a grievance, and where everyone lives the deadly serious passions of envy, self-importance, and resentment.

Self-centeredness and self-importance are the enemies of servanthood, and service to others is central to discipleship and following Jesus.

Two thousand years hasn’t changed the human condition all that much. We see the same patterns or behaviors far too often in modern life.

Most recently, here in western North Carolina, there have been stories that spotlight the sinful human condition that Luther and Lewis describe.

Well-intentioned donors dumped piles of clothing in places like Burnsville and at IAM, trying to help, but creating a flood of textiles that has only made it harder to organize resources. Making a plan that doesn’t include talking with the people we’re trying to help isn’t serving others; it’s only boosting our own egos in the name of “helping.”

And, while those folks missed the mark, others weren’t even trying to help. They simply seized on the stories of loss and created scams to benefit from the generous donors willing to pitch in and help neighbors financially. Others began soliciting work they never plan to finish, targeting vulnerable residents who aren’t sure where to find help.

In these places, no one was asking, like Jesus did,

“What is it you want me to do?”

Instead, they were acting out of their own interests, priorities, and charitably, their own ignorance.

When James and John come to Jesus, he tries to tell them they don’t know what they are asking, and then he addresses all the disciples, as a group, talking to them about what it means to be a servant and a disciple.

First Jesus talks about sacrifice, and the cup that he will drink. And with his words, because we are on this side of the crucifixion, we recall the cup of sour wine or vinegar that the soldiers gave him at the crucifixion. When he speaks about the right and the left, we are reminded that, at the crucifixion, those who are on his right and his left will be a robber and a thief, and most of the disciples had deserted him and hidden themselves out of fear of the authorities.

Jesus then contrasts what the world calls leadership to what leadership in God’s kingdom looks like. He acknowledges that the world expects rulers to be heavy-handed and they expect great leaders to be tyrants. And then he offers the disciples a different way to lead. A different way to be.

Selfless instead of self-centered.

Self-effacing instead of self-important.

Self-sacrificing instead of self-aggrandizing.

It is a way of being that lets someone else write the story.

For us, as Christians, we submit to God.

We surrender our ways for God’s ways.

And we ask God, “What is it You want me to do?”

And then, hopefully, we stop and listen.

When we raise our hand,

when we step forward to volunteer,

when we agree to lead,

hopefully we do so with the humility modeled by Jesus.

Thankfully, there are many stories of good work and generous volunteers responding well and effectively to the wreckage of Tropical Storm Helen in our community and throughout our region.

Many businesses are finding ways to help neighbors whether it was feeding neighbors Brunswick stew, giving away tomatoes, offering free laundry or hosting live music when the lights first came back on;
teams of volunteers are being coordinated through Habitat for Humanity to help households clean up and make repairs;
many, many volunteers are helping IAM and Manna Food Bank box and distribute the supplies they have;
congregations from other parts of North Carolina, as well as the Midwest and South have sent their quilts, blankets and winter coats to us to give to neighbors who may not have what they need as nighttime temperatures fall into the thirties;
Children & Family Resource Center and others have been making sure families have what they need to care for children and babies now;
and Storehouse has begun intake for their annual “Blessings in boxes” Christmas distribution, so that children will have as bright a Christmas as possible; 
and many people are giving financial gifts that help provide funding for recovery well into the future.

As we look ahead at where God is calling each of us, and our congregation, in the future, may we enter into conversation with God and with our neighbors and community, listen well, and ask,

“What is it you want us to do?”

Let us pray.

Good and gracious God, 

Thank you for your son Jesus who shows us what being a servant looks like. 

Help us follow Him and set aside our egos and our desires so that we can listen to You and know Your will. 

We pray in the name of our Lord and Savior. 

Amen.


Sunday, September 22, 2024

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”.

Sunday, September 8, 2024

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.


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.


Sunday, July 21, 2024

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.

Sunday, July 14, 2024

Lectionary 15B

Marcos 6:14-19

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, Seño, nuestra fuerza y nuestro redentor. Amén.

Nuestro evangelio de hoy es la mitad de lo que se conoce en los estudios bíblicos como un "sándwich de Marcos". Se llama así porque Marcos pone una historia no relacionada entre dos mitades de otra historia, como la carne entre dos piezas de pan.

Inmediatamente antes del evangelio de hoy, Jesús envió a los discípulos a expulsar a los demonios y sanar a los enfermos. E inmediatamente después de estos versículos, los discípulos regresarán y le dirán a Jesús todo lo que han hecho.

Mientras tanto, Marcos nos dice que Herodes ha escuchado lo que Jesús y sus seguidores están haciendo, y que cuando Herodes escuchó sobre Jesús, pensó que Juan [el bautista] a quien había decapitado había sido resucitado de entre los muertos.

En las Escrituras tenemos historias que han sido etiquetadas como "Textos de terror".

Algunos de estos aparecen en nuestras lecturas leccionarias, mientras que otros no. Hace cuarenta años, la teóloga y autora Phyllis Trible escribió sobre cuatro de estas historias que se centraron en la violencia contra las mujeres. En términos más generales, la categoría incluye aquellas como nuestro Evangelio de hoy, historias de abuso y explotación, historias donde los poderosos y con poder oprimen la justicia. Las historias nos recuerdan humildemente que el reino de Dios es ahora y aún no. Reflexionando sobre estos textos, un autor escribió,

[Historias tristes] nos obligan a luchar con el mundo como es el mundo, con Dios como es Dios, y con la Biblia como es la Biblia, no como deseamos que fueran.i

Después de que Marcos nos dice que Herodes cree que Juan el Bautista ha sido resucitado de entre los muertos, escuchamos cómo murió Juan.

Juan se metió en problemas con Herodes porque llamó a una cosa lo que era. La esposa de Herodes estaba enojada con Juan porque había criticado a Herodes por casarse con ella cuando ella era la esposa de su hermano.

Un predicador bromeó que Juan debe haber sido luterano; En su disputa de Heidelberg, Martin Luther escribió: “Una teología de la gloria llama al mal bien y al bien mal. Una teología de la cruz llama a la cosa lo que realmente es ". Cuando seguimos a Jesús, no podemos equivocarnos cuando nos enfrentamos al bien y al mal; [Debemos] llamar a la cosa lo que es. ii

Para apaciguar a su esposa, Herodes había arrestado a Juan, pero Herodes se negó a matarlo. Marcos dice que "Herodes temía a Juan, sabiendo que era un hombre justo y santo". (6:20)

Pero lamentablemente, la justicia y la santidad de Juan no lo mantuvieron vivo.

Lo que quizás no reconocemos, pero seguramente los oyentes de Marcos sabían, es que estas son las mismas palabras que escuchamos al rey decir a Ester en su historia. (Esther 5: 3)

El Libro de Ester no aparece a menudo en el Leccionario; Solo hay un domingo cada tres años cuando escuchamos su historia, por lo que puede no ser familiar, pero hay similitudes con la historia de Herodes y Juan. En la historia de Ester, el rey tenía un banquete, y Ester se unió a las otras mujeres jóvenes en el palacio mientras el rey buscaba a una nueva esposa. Cuando el rey conoció a Ester, él estaba contento, y ella se convirtió en la nueva reina. Más tarde, uno de sus oficiales, sin saber que Ester era judía, conspiro para matar a todo el pueblo judío.

Pronto Ester tuvo la oportunidad de aparecer ante el rey y fue entonces cuando el rey le dijo a Ester: “¿Qué pasa, reina Ester? ¿Cuál es tu solicitud? Se te dará, incluso la mitad de mi reino ". (Esther 5: 3)

Pero las similitudes terminan ahí.

La reina Esther hizo una súplica compasiva por la seguridad de su gente; en contraste, la hija de Herodes fue a su madre para averiguar qué debía pedir, y decidieron que pediría la cabeza de Juan el Bautista.

Y Marcos nos dice: “El rey estaba profundamente afligido; Sin embargo, por respeto a sus juramentos y por los invitados, no quería rechazarla”. (6:26)

Entonces, Herodes mata a Juan y entrega su cabeza sobre un plato a su hija.

Me pregunto si podemos relacionarnos con la lucha que enfrentó Herodes. Sabemos que todos pecamos y tomamos decisiones que nos alejan de Dios.

Herodes quería cumplir su promesa, tan imprudente como era. Tenía miedo de parecer débil frente a las personas sobre las que disfrutaba tener poder. Tenía miedo de decepcionar a su hija y su esposa. Y así, sacrificó a un ser humano, incluso cuando sabía que Juan era justo y santo s y las acciones de Herodes le causaron dolor.

Me pregunto

lo que sacrificamos para mantener las apariencias;

Me pregunto

cuando tomamos una decisión sabiendo que alguien más pagara  el costo, y no nosotros;

Me pregunto

qué acciones hemos tomado que lamentamos.

Un ejemplo en el que pienso es en nuestro cuidado por la creación. Está lleno de opciones que se hacen más fáciles porque probablemente no viviremos para ver las consecuencias:

regando césped en el calor del verano en lugar de dejar que se vuelvan cafés;

utilizando plásticos de un solo uso por conveniencia, incluso cuando estamos aprendiendo más sobre los micro plásticos en nuestros océanos y vías fluviales;

rociando pesticidas y herbicidas que matan a las plantas polinizandas y amenazan las abejas.

Hay muchas maneras de elegir de manera diferente para mantener la buena creación de Dios, pero a menudo no lo hacemos. O al menos no lo hago.

La buena noticia es que en la familia de Dios, se nos dan alternativas a lo que ofrece el mundo.

Creemos que "[Dios] me defiende contra todo el peligro y los guardias y me protege de todo mal". Y que el Espíritu Santo nos santifica y nos hace santos, "iluminados con los dones de Dios". iii Pero debemos detenernos y escuchar la guía de Dios antes de actuar.
Cuando contrastamos el reino de Herodes con el reino de Dios, podemos ver que Herodes vivió en un reino romano basado en quid pro quo, donde hago algo por ti, y luego haces algo por mí, pero el reino de Dios se basa en Gracia solamente.

Por la gracia de Dios, el favor que no merecemos  de Dios, dado libremente a nosotros y para nosotros, somos adoptados en la familia de Dios y hechos hijos de Dios. Ninguna otra relación o identidad es más importante que esa.

Y, como dijo otro predicador, "[en gracia] lo que nos entregó no es la cabeza de Juan en un plato, sino el propio cuerpo y sangre de Cristo", dada y derramada por nosotros, para que pudiéramos tener vida eterna.

En Cristo, tenemos la libertad de elegir vivir primero para el reino de Dios y no por nuestras propias prioridades, y estar motivados por el amor y no por el miedo mientras vivimos nuestra fe en el mundo.

Gracias a Dios.

Amén.

Mark 6:14-29

Our gospel today is the middle of what’s known in biblical studies as a “Markan sandwich”. It’s called that because Mark puts one unrelated story between two halves of another story, like meat between two pieces of bread.

Immediately before today’s gospel, Jesus sent the disciples out to cast out demons and heal the sick. And immediately after these verses, the disciples will return and tell Jesus all that they have done.

Meanwhile, Mark tells us that Herod has heard what Jesus and his followers are doing, and that when Herod heard about Jesus, he thought that John [ the Baptist] whom he had beheaded had been raised from the dead.

In Scripture we have stories that have been labeled “texts of terror”.

Some of these show up in our lectionary readings, while others don’t. Forty years ago, theologian and author Phyllis Trible wrote about four of these stories that were all centered on violence against women. More broadly, the category includes ones like our gospel today, stories of abuse and exploitation, stories where the mighty and powerful oppress justice. The stories humbly remind us that God’s kingdom is both now and not yet. Reflecting on these texts, one author wrote,

[Sad stories] force us to wrestle with the world as the world is, with God as God is, and with the Bible as the Bible is – not as we wish those things would be.[i]

After Mark tells us that Herod thinks John the Baptist has been raised from the dead, we hear how John died.

John got in trouble with Herod because he called a thing what it was. Herod’s wife was angry with John because he had criticized Herod for marrying her when she was his brother’s wife.

One preacher joked that John must have been Lutheran; in his Heidelberg Disputation, Martin Luther wrote, “A theology of glory calls evil good and good evil. A theology of the cross calls the thing what it actually is.” When we follow Jesus, [we] cannot equivocate when faced with good and evil; [we] must call a thing what it is.[ii]

To appease his wife, Herod had arrested John, but Herod refused to kill him. Mark says that “Herod feared John, knowing that he was a righteous and holy man.” (6:20)

But sadly, John’s righteousness and holiness did not keep him alive.

There was a party, a banquet, for Herod’s birthday, and Mark tells us his daughter came and danced for Herod and the political and religious leaders who were there. And Herod was so pleased that he said to the girl,

“Whatever you ask of me, I will give you, even half of my kingdom.” (6:23)

What we might not recognize, but surely Mark’s listeners would have known, is that these are the same words that we hear the king say to Esther in her story. (Esther 5:3)

The book of Esther doesn’t appear often in the lectionary; there’s only one Sunday every three years when we hear her story, so it may not be familiar, but there are similarities with the story of Herod and John. In Esther’s story, the king had a banquet, and Esther joined the other young women at the palace while the king searched a for a new wife. When the king met Esther, he was pleased, and she became the new queen. Later, one of his officers, not knowing that Esther was Jewish, plotted to kill all the Jewish people.

Soon Esther had an opportunity to appear before the king and it was then that the king said to Esther, “What is it, Queen Esther? What is your request? It shall be given you, even to the half of my kingdom.” (Esther 5:3)

But the similarities end there.

Queen Esther made a compassionate plea for the safety of her people; in contrast, Herod’s daughter went to her mother to find out what she should ask for, and they decided she would ask for the head of John the Baptist.

And Mark tells us, “The king was deeply grieved; yet out of regard for his oaths and for the guests, he did not want to refuse her.” (6:26)

So, Herod kills John and delivers his head on a platter to his daughter.

I wonder if we can relate to the struggle that Herod faced. We know that we all sin and make decisions that turn us away from God.

Herod wanted to follow through on his promise, as reckless as it was. He was afraid of appearing weak in front of the people over whom he enjoyed having power. He was afraid of disappointing his daughter and his wife. And so, he sacrificed a human being, even when he knew John was righteous and holy and Herod’s actions caused him grief.

I wonder

what we sacrifice to keep up appearances;

I wonder

when we make a choice knowing that someone else will bear the cost, and not us;

I wonder

what actions we’ve taken that we grieve.

One example I think about is our care for creation. It’s full of choices that are made easier because we likely won’t live to see the consequences:

watering grass lawns in the summer heat instead of letting them turn brown;

using single-use plastics for the convenience even as we are learning more about microplastics in our oceans and waterways;

spraying pesticides and herbicides that kill off pollinating plants and threaten the honeybees.

There are so many ways we could choose differently to uphold God’s good creation, but often we don’t. Or at least I don’t.

The good news is that in the family of God, we are given alternatives to what the world offers.

We believe “[God] defends me against all danger and guards and protects me from all evil.” And that the Holy Spirit sanctifies us and makes us holy, “enlightened with God’s gifts”.[iii] But we must stop and listen for God’s guiding before we act.

When we contrast the kingdom of Herod with the kingdom of God, we can see that Herod lived in a Roman kingdom based in quid pro quo – where I do something for you, and then you do something for mebut God’s kingdom is based on grace alone.

By God’s grace - God’s unmerited favor, freely given to us and for us - we are adopted into God’s family and made children of God. No other relationship or identity is more important than that one.

And, as another preacher said, “[in grace] what’s handed to us is not John’s head on a platter, but Christ’s own body and blood”, given and poured out for us, that we might have eternal life.

In Christ, we have the freedom to choose to live first for God’s kingdom and not our own priorities, and to be motivated by love and not by fear as we live out our faith in the world. 

Thanks be to God.

Amen.


[i] Paul Anthony. “A Brief Review: Texts of Terror  by Phyllis Trible”. https://disorientedtheology.wordpress.com/2018/09/05/a-brief-review-texts-of-terror-by-phyllis-trible/ , accessed 7/13/2024

[ii] Cameron Howard. “Calling a Thing What It Actually Is.” https://www.workingpreacher.org/dear-working-preacher/calling-a-thing-what-it-actually-is , accessed 7/13/2024

[iii] Luther’s Small Catechism