Lectionary 19A

Matthew 14:22-33

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. 

 

I passed a church last week where the sign read, “True faith has no doubts.” I imagine that this morning their preacher is reading this same passage from Matthew that tells the story of Peter stepping out of the boat and their focus is on the question Jesus asks Peter, “Why did you doubt?”

 

But I don’t think that’s where our focus belongs this morning. 

 

The Bible is not merely an instruction manual, where if you follow the directions and get the steps right, you’ll perfect your faith, like a basketball player practicing three-pointers. We don’t need to analyze what Peter did or didn’t do, or what he could have done better or differently.

 

Nor is this the same story that we heard in chapter 8 when Jesus was already on the boat as the disciples crossed from Capernaum to the eastern side of the lake and he calmed the storm. In that story, the disciples were afraid of the storm, and they marveled at seeing Jesus calm the winds and seas because he demonstrated power they had not yet witnessed from him.

 

This is a different story and while it is important that Jesus saves Peter when Peter calls out to him, this story isn’t about what one scholar called “Baywatch Jesus” either.

 

I believe this story shows us Jesus’ compassion for us and the strength of being a community of people who follow Jesus, even, and maybe especially, when we have doubts and fears.

I expect most of us are more like Peter than we’d like to admit.

 

Peter was an imperfect disciple. He acted boldly, and sometimes recklessly. There are times when he makes big declarations and he also makes big denials. His confidence and courage fizzle and are replaced with fear and doubt. 

 

Sometimes Peter probably disappointed himself; he certainly disappointed people around him and that included Jesus. And yet, time and again, Jesus shows up for him. He has compassion for him. Here Jesus helps Peter climb back into the boat and later, after the resurrection, he will cook him breakfast and tell him to feed his sheep. (John 21:17)

 

Jesus loves each one of us, even as he knows our fears and questions and witnesses our imperfections.

 

Like Peter and the other disciples in the boat, 

when I catch a glimpse of God working in my life or those around me, I wonder if I can trust what I have seen or heard. I question whether something that seems providential is real, or if I’m imagining it. 

 

Discernment, which wasn’t Peter’s strength, encourages us to pause, listen and examine whether something is of God, or of the world. 

 

Sometimes my excitement wants to bypass that careful, necessary work. Being part of a community who is following Jesus and listening for what God is saying helps me, and all of us, 

focus on Jesus. 

 

We work together to follow faithfully.

 

Jesus knows us, like he knows those disciples on the boat, and like them, he sends us into the world as his followers.

 

For a few weeks, I have been listening to our congregation as people have told me about their hopes for our future together, what things leave them unsettled or anxious, and where they think God is leading us. In two weeks, on August 23^rd, after each worship service, we will be gathering to explore “our place at Grace” and the ways that each of us has a place in the ministries of our congregation. 

 

God is already at work here and in our community, and calls each of us to participate. 

 

Anytime we are in periods of change and transition, there will be questions, doubts and even fears.

 

To us, like the disciples in the boat, I believe Jesus says, “Take heart.”

 

Take courage or take heart. 

Know we are in this life of faith together. 

When we are wobbly or uncertain, we can help each other.

 

As I reflected on the words, “Take heart” I remembered Luther’s Rose. The image may be familiar but maybe not. 

 

Designed in 1530, the emblem features a black cross inside a red heart, placed on a white rose, set against a sky-blue field, and surrounded by a golden ring. 

 

The red heart symbolizes the human heart and the center of faith in each of us.  The black cross imposed on it signifies that faith in the crucified Christ brings salvation while the blue field evokes an image of the heavens and the gold ring represents unbroken eternity. (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Luther_rose)

 

What stands out to me today is the red heart at its center. 

 

A living human heart beats, pumping blood, carrying oxygen to the rest of the body and removing carbon dioxide. We cannot live without it. It is both life-giving and lifesaving. 

 

Sometimes we don’t think much about how essential the heart is. And I expect that can be true of our faith as well.

 

But when Jesus tells us to take heart, 

he calls us back to the center:

to focus on him, 

to focus on God’s Word, 

and to focus on faith that saves. 

 

Let us pray.

Holy God, 

Thank you for the gift of your Son Jesus.

Thank you for the life-giving gift of faith. 

May we take heart and have courage to live as your people, 

confident that through our faith in Christ, 

we have been saved.

We pray in Jesus’ name. 

Amen.

Lectionary 16A

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

Mateo 13:24-30, 36-43

 

Oremos. 
Que las palabras de mi boca y los pensamientos de nuestro corazón sean aceptables ante ti, Señor, nuestra roca y nuestro redentor. Amén.
 
El texto evangélico de esta semana es una parábola o una historia corta que Jesús cuenta. En el evangelio de la semana pasada, contó otra historia sobre alguien que plantaba semillas, los diferentes tipos de suelo donde crecían y cómo fue la cosecha. Y esta semana cuenta una historia sobre otro terrateniente y lo que pasó en sus campos. Las imágenes habrían sido familiares para su audiencia original: agricultores y trabajadores que vivían en el siglo primero y dependían de la buena tierra, cultivos saludables y una cosecha abundante para vivir.
 
En la lectura de esta semana, un dueño de tierras planta buena semilla, pero luego llega un enemigo y siembra maleza junto al trigo. Con ganas de agradar, sus siervos se ofrecen a quitar toda la maleza.
 
Pero, como las plantas jóvenes parecen idénticas, el dueño de las tierras ordena a sus trabajadores que las dejen crecer juntas; así, en el momento de la cosecha, se podrá recoger y quemar la mala hierba,
mientras que el trigo se recogerá y almacenará.
 
Hoy en día, muchos oyentes se preguntan cómo ser “buena tierra” o “buena semilla”, y cómo evitar el “horno de fuego” y el “llanto y el crujir de dientes” que describe Mateo.
 
La semana pasada hablé sobre la semilla como la Palabra de Dios, reflexionando sobre cómo Dios siembra su Palabra en nosotros y nos cuida.
 
Si la “buena semilla” es la Palabra de Dios y el enemigo siembra la cizaña, entonces la cizaña son aquellas cosas que van en contra de la Palabra de Dios,
las potestades y principados que nos separan de Dios:
aquellas mismas cosas a las que renunciamos en el bautismo.
A ambas parábolas les siguen explicaciones que destacan temas de juicio. Parece que Mateo argumenta en contra de amenazas muy reales para los primeros cristianos.
 
Los conflictos pueden parecer distintos hoy en día, pero Matthew identifica correctamente la rapidez con la que los humanos queremos separar a "esa gente" que no parece creer, practicar la fe o comportarse como pensamos que deberían.
 
Al escribir sobre este texto, Matt Skinner, del Seminario Lutero, compartió que, aunque queramos moderar a Mateo porque su retórica puede sonar inflexible e incluso amenazante, a veces su ira parece justificada.¹
 
La mayoría de nosotros probablemente podemos describir una experiencia en la que escuchamos o vimos a otra persona —otro cristiano— actuar o hablar de una manera dolorosa de presenciar.
 
Sé que hay veces que quiero decir: “¡Yo no soy ese tipo de cristiano!”, cuando escucho a alguien hablar de formas que contradicen al Dios cuyo amor conozco. Quiero repudiarlos a gritos y distanciarme inmediatamente de ellos, de sus palabras y de sus acciones.
 
Y, sin embargo, como escribió una vez la escritora Anne Lamott: 
Puedes asumir con seguridad que has creado a Dios a tu propia imagen cuando resulta que Dios odia a las mismas personas que tú.
 
Vivimos en un país dividido, y las divisiones pueden parecer tan profundas y grandes que nada sanará la ruptura. Sin embargo, Dios nos creó para relacionarnos y nos formó para vivir en comunidad, con todo lo que eso implica.
 
Tal como dice mi mentor religioso: 
No es gran cosa reunir a la gente si todos son iguales; lo sagrado se encuentra en nuestras diferencias.
No quiero odiar a nadie creado por Dios. 
Quiero ver a la gente con los ojos de Dios, con ojos de amor. 
Creo que Dios puede actuar y actúa en la vida de las personas de formas que no puedo ver ni reconocer. 
Creo que Dios cambia corazones y mentes a través de nuestro testimonio de su amor.
 
Y esas creencias exigen que espere en Dios.
Esta obra del reino lleva tiempo.
 
Las parábolas no son meros cuentos. No son fábulas con moraleja, ni tienen un solo significado o explicación. De hecho, la palabra griega significa "colocado al lado"; las parábolas ponen dos cosas juntas o una al lado de la otra.
 
Skinner sugiere que el texto de hoy nos enseña que nuestra tarea es tanto cultivar como arrancar.
 
No podemos arrancar por impulso todo lo que no nos guste. No podemos destruir lo que otros han plantado sin comprobar si da fruto. Debemos dar espacio para que Dios actúe, para que algo eche raíces y muestre lo que será.
 
Al leer esta parábola, me acuerdo de hacer una pausa cuando siento el impulso de juzgar y descartar a alguien, y en cambio, acercarme con curiosidad. Pienso en los seres vivos que se camuflan para protegerse, como los saltamontes y algunas orugas, o que comienzan en los lugares más insignificantes, como una flor que brota del cemento agrietado. No podemos juzgar a nadie, ni a nada, sin pasar tiempo aprendiendo sobre ellos.
 
Pensamos en la buena semilla de la Palabra de Dios y la usamos para evaluar qué es bueno y necesario, y qué es paja.
 
Y observamos aquello que es realmente maleza, que quita recursos y energía y desplaza lo bueno, y nos oponemos a ello.
 
Hay cosas que necesitan ser quemadas. Hay cosas que amenazan el buen futuro de Dios. Y nosotros también participaremos en esa obra, cuando Dios nos llame.
 
Mientras tanto, estamos llamados a cultivar los campos de misión de Dios con su ayuda bondadosa, trabajando juntos.
 
Oremos.
Dios bueno y misericordioso,
te damos gracias por tu amor inmenso hacia nosotros, al enviar a tu Hijo Jesús para vivir entre nosotros y enseñarnos acerca de tu Reino.
Ayúdanos a dar testimonio de tu amor ante el mundo entero.
Danos valentía para ser tus servidores y colaboradores.
Oramos en el nombre de Jesús.
Amén.
 
¹ Skinner, Matt, “Dear Working Preacher”. Luther Seminary, workingpreacher.org

Matthew 13:24-30, 36-43

Let us pray.

May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable to you, O Lord, our rock and our redeemer. Amen.

 

This week’s gospel text is a parable or a short story that Jesus tells. In last week’s gospel, he told another story about a person who planted seeds, the different kinds of soil where they grew, and how the harvest went. And this week he tells s story about another landowner and what happened in his fields. The imagery would have been familiar to his original audience: farmers and workers who lived in the first century and depended on good earth, healthy crops and a bountiful harvest to live.

 

In this week’s text, a landowner plants good seed, but an enemy comes along later and sows weeds there alongside the wheat. Eager to please, his slaves offer to pull up all the weeds. 

 

But, because the young plants look identical, the landowner tells his workers to let the plants grow up together, and then, at harvest, the weeds can be gathered and burned, 

while the wheat is gathered and stored.

 

Often listeners today reflect on how they can be “good soil” or “good seed” and how they can avoid the “furnace of fire” and the “weeping and gnashing of teeth” that Matthew describes. 

 

Last week, I talked about the seed as God’s Word, reflecting on how God sows God’s Word in us and nurtures us. 

 

If the “good seed” is God’s Word and the enemy sows the weeds, then the weeds are those things that go against God’s Word, 

the powers and principalities that separate us from God – 

those very things we renounce at baptism.

 

Both parables are followed by explanations that emphasize themes of judgment. Matthew appears to be arguing against very present threats to the early Christians. 

 

The conflicts may look different today, but Matthew rightly identifies how quickly we humans want to separate out “those people” who don’t look like they believe, practice faith, or behave the way we think they should. 

 

Writing about this text, Matt Skinner at Luther Seminary shared that as much as we may want to temper Matthew because his rhetoric can come across unyielding and even threatening, sometimes his anger feels justified.^[i]

 

Most of us can probably describe an experience of hearing or watching another person – another Christian – act or speak in ways that are painful to witness.

 

I know there are times when I want to say, “I’m not that kind of Christian!” when I hear someone speak in ways that contradict the God whose love I know. I want to loudly renounce them and immediately distance myself from them and their words and actions. 

 

And yet, as writer Anne Lamott once wrote, 

You can safely assume you've created God in your own image when it turns out that God hates all the same people you do.

 

We live in a country that is divided and the divisions can feel so deep and wide that nothing will repair the schism. And yet, God created us to for relationships, and built us for community, with all its messiness. 

 

As my clergy coach says, 

There’s no great trick in gathering people together if everyone is the same; the holy is found in our differences. 

 

I don’t want to hate anyone whom God has created. 

I want to see people through God’s own eyes, through eyes of love.

I believe that God can and does act in people’s lives in ways I cannot see or even recognize. 

I believe that God changes hearts and minds through our witness to God’s love. 

 

And those beliefs demand that I wait on God.

This kingdom work takes time. 

 

Parables are not just stories. They aren’t fables that teach morals. Nor do they have a single meaning or explanation. In fact, the Greek word means “thrown alongside”; parables throw two things together or alongside each another. 

 

Skinner suggests that today’s text teaches us that our work is to both nourish and uproot. 

We cannot impulsively tear out anything that we don’t like. We cannot destroy what others have planted without seeing if it bears fruit. We must leave room for God to act, for something to take root and show forth what it will be.

 

Reading this parable, I am reminded to pause when I feel an impulse to judge and dismiss someone, and instead, approach them with curiosity. I think of living creatures that are camouflaged for self-protection, like katydids and some caterpillars, or that begin in the most unremarkable places, like a blossom springing from cracked cement. We cannot judge anyone, or anything, without spending some time learning about them. 

 

We reflect on the good seed of God’s Word and use it to help us measure what is good and necessary, and what is chaff. 

 

And we watch for those things that truly are weeds, taking up resources and energy and crowding out what is good, and we oppose those things.

 

There are things that will need to be burned up. There are things that threaten God’s good future. And we will be part of that work, too, as God calls us. 

 

In the meantime, we are called to tend God’s mission fields with God’s gracious help, working together.

 

Let us pray.

Good and gracious God,

Thank you for your abundant love for us that you sent your Son Jesus to live among us and to teach us about your Kingdom.

Help us bear witness to your love for the whole world.

Give us courage to be your servants and co-workers. 

We pray in Jesus’ name.

Amen.

 

[i] Skinner, Matt, “Dear Working Preacher”. Luther Seminary, workingpreacher.org 

Lectionary 15A

Matthew 13:1-9,18-23
Isaiah 55:10-13
Psalm 65: 9-13 

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. 

 

I recently heard a farmer talking about the drought. 

 

Did you know that full-grown dairy cow can drink 50 gallons of water every day? Imagine it – a bathtub worth of water, every day! 

 

Fresh, clean water is essential to having healthy crops, healthy cows and healthy milk. So, it’s not surprising that the current drought has affected them since the winter. Their pastures never got what they needed to get off to a good start and while they’ve sold some of their cows, and adapted as best as they can, they need to get second cuttings of hay and a good silage crop to get them through the year. 

 

When Jesus tells the parable of the sower that we hear in today’s gospel, he talks about the person who sows the seed, 

and he talks about the types of ground, soil or dirt where the seeds land, 

and he even talks about what happens to the seeds and what the harvest looks like. 

 

There are a couple of popular interpretations of the parable. One would ask the church to be more like God, sowing seeds recklessly or with wild abandon and trusting God is at work in the mess we create. Another tasks us with making amends, correcting the ways we have not let faith take root in us and urging us to become “good” soil. 

 

But do you know what Jesus doesn’t talk about?

 

The rain. Or the snow. 

The precipitation that waters the ground, 

that prepares the living earth to grow and bloom.

 

And yet, that is exactly where God’s attention is both in the words of the prophet Isaiah and the psalmist.

 

Martin Luther recognized that the texts don’t tell us to be more diligent or fastidious planters or to strive to be good soil. 

 

We aren’t the ones doing this work. God is.

God’s Word nourishes faith.

 

We must remember that God gets all the verbs. I know you’ve heard me say that before. It’s an important refrain because it helps me remember that Scripture is always pointing to what God is doing, 

telling us what God promises, 

and showing us God’s love for all of God’s world. 

 

God sows faith in us through God’s Word, 

and God wants us to respond, 

but God’s Word offers invitation, not condemnation.

 

As I was thinking about this week’s texts, I read a children’s story by Kate Messner called Up in the Garden, Down in the Dirt. As she describes the ways a little girl and her grandmother work together to plant a garden, the granddaughter pays attention to all that is happening. Sure, up in the garden, she and her nana dig, plant and pick tomatoes and cucumbers. But she also names the ways helpers – like spiders, skunks and snakes - participate in this growing world, eating pests while the humans sleep, and joining in the harvest. And then she describes how the earth itself prepares for winter and a whole new garden.

 

I think the kingdom of God is like that. 

 

God sows a living Word. In the prologue to his gospel, John tells us,

 

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things came into being through him, and without him not one thing came into being. (John 1:1-2)

 

And that living Word -embodied in Jesus Christ - invites us to participate, side-by-side, in God’s creation and to witness God’s own imagination at work.

 

The psalmist invites us to praise God because

God makes the earth alive, 

full of abundant life, 

overflowing with plenty, 

cloaked with grain 

and clothed with joy. 

 

We believe in this beautiful and holy creation because God says it is so. And we marvel at all God has given us, even as we realize that there is so much of God’s world that we never see first-hand. Not only in a plot of dirt where our garden grows, but across the whole earth.

 

I think today’s texts invite us into wonder and imagination. It’s a conversation I want us to have at Grace. If we believe – or rather, because we believe we are God’s people, 

and this is a place where God is at work, in us and through us, 

then what is happening down in the dirt?

 

God has sown the seed and watered the earth so that God’s kingdom will grow.

 

So, what is being nourished and nurtured to grow and bloom?

And what else might God be sowing right now? 

 

How are we being called to work together and with partners to bear witness to what God is doing? 

 

Those are my questions as I listen to this story of God’s abundance and generosity, God’s unfailing action for us, and I wonder what it all means for us.

 

Let us pray…

God of heavens and earth,

Thank you for your love for all your creation

And especially for our congregation.

Help us drink in your Word and be strengthened in faith.

Show us how to live in your kingdom so that all will flourish.

We pray in Jesus’ name.

Amen.