Sunday, September 30, 2018

19th Sunday after Pentecost

Mark 9:38-50

How do you describe a life spent following Jesus? Often, we describe our faith by what we are not and what we do not believe. Like the disciples in the gospel, we are quick to name the people who aren’t like us, who don’t believe like us.

At the beginning of this morning’s gospel, Mark describes the suspicion and skepticism of the disciples when they see someone outside their own circle exorcising demons in the name of Jesus. Instead of celebrating the healing that is taking place, they become defensive and controlling, trying to expel the outsider and stop him from completing the good work that he has begun.

And Jesus rebukes them, using words that evoke images of abundance and life as well as those of damnation and suffering.

First Jesus says, “whoever gives you a cup of water to drink because you bear the name of Christ will by no means lose the reward.” (Mark 9:41)

A ‘cup of water’ sounds insignificant,
until you are thirsty, footsore from traveling or hoarse from witnessing to God’s mighty acts in the world;
until you remember that Jesus promises “living water” and that cup of water becomes the very font where we remember “his own death and resurrection that set us free from the bondage of sin and death and open the way to everlasting life.”  Water is “a sign of the kingdom [of God] and of cleaning and rebirth.”[i]

As quick as we are to “other” people, Jesus is adamant that all who do works of power in His name are His followers, too. What matters is that they are bearing witness to God, carrying God’s abundant love and mercy into the world as servants of the Gospel.

Next, he tells his disciples, “If any of you put a stumbling block before one of these little ones who believe in me, it would be better for you if a great millstone were hung around your neck and you were thrown into the sea.” (Mark 9:42)

Jesus insists that we must not become obstacles to others believing in, and following, Jesus. It’s easy to laugh off his words with false humility and think none of us could have that kind of influence over another person, but how many times have you heard that someone left a faith community because of the hypocrisy or ugliness they encountered in other Christians? In addition to the impacts of diminishing institutional loyalty and general busy-ness, Christianity suffers when we elevate ourselves over others and when we value comfort or control more than compassion.

That heavy millstone is broken into pieces when it is struck by the faith we receive in Jesus Christ. In his essay “Freedom of a Christian”, Martin Luther writes that the freedom of faith in Christ Jesus lets us “be guided in all works… to serve and benefit others in all that [we do], considering nothing except the need and the advantage of [our] neighbor.” [ii]

In contrast to the disciples who had been arguing about who was the greatest among them, faith orients us to the world and those suffering in it.

Next, Jesus says, “…it is better for you to enter the kingdom of God with one eye than to have two eyes and to be thrown into hell, where their worm never dies, and the fire is never quenched.” (Mark 9:47-48)

Recalling the words of the prophet in Isaiah 66, when Jesus describes hell here, he is speaking “of Gehenna, the perpetually burning garbage dump outside [Jerusalem’s] city walls, as a picture of what life would be outside the embrace of the community of faith.”  Keeping up appearances, or maintaining a charade of self-importance, will have its own consequences because we will find ourselves separated from the very community of faith that gathers in the brokenhearted and all of us who need healing. [iii]

Jesus concludes, “For everyone will be salted with fire.” Salt is good; but if salt has lost its saltiness, how can you season it? Have salt in yourselves, and be at peace with one another.” (Mark 9:49- 50)

In contrast to the fires of Gehenna, now Jesus speaks of fire as a purifier; for followers of Jesus, “the flames symbolize the resurrection of death to life [that we experience as Easter dawns] and the transformation of the community [at Pentecost] by the Spirit of the resurrection.”[iv]

Jesus also speaks of salt as a preservative, recognizing that discipleship requires perseverance. As theologian Gail Ramshaw writes, the Son of God does not go to the cross “to shield disciples from costly obedience, but rather to show [us] the way.”[v]

So, how do you live as disciples?

Do you experience the life-giving waters of baptism that invite us to be refreshed and renewed each day? Or do you carry the weight of faith, unable to break free, and unwilling to confront the sin and brokenness that binds us and weighs us down?

Are you suffering on the margins, separated from community, or finding strength and building endurance in the midst of life?

As we hear Jesus’ call to follow him and to live as disciples, may we learn from those first disciples and be empowered by the Holy Spirit to live free, whole and strong.

Let us pray…
Holy God,
We give you thanks for your abundant forgiveness,
That when we bicker about who’s the greatest and who belongs or deserves your love,
You patiently extend your grace to us again and invite us to turn away from our self-interest and carry your love into the world.
By your Spirit strengthen us in faith as followers of your Son Jesus.
Amen.

[i] Gail Ramshaw. Treasures Old and New: Images in the Lectionary (p. 402). Kindle Edition.
[ii] Martin Luther. “Freedom of a Christian.” Three Treatises. (p. 302).
[iii] Gail Ramshaw. Treasures Old and New: Images in the Lectionary (p. 166). Kindle Edition.
[iv] Gail Ramshaw. Treasures Old and New: Images in the Lectionary (p. 170). Kindle Edition.
[v] Lamar Williamson, Jr. “Mark.” Interpretation: A Bible Commentary. 172.

Sunday, September 23, 2018

18th Sunday after Pentecost

Mark 9:30-37

In today’s gospel, Jesus is with his disciples and he’s telling them again that the Son of Man is going to be killed and then will rise again. And Mark tells us, they don’t understand him but they are afraid to ask him what he means.

Seven different times in his gospel, Mark tell us the people around Jesus are afraid.

Sometimes when they’re afraid it’s because Jesus is performing miraculous acts of healing and mercy:
they were afraid when he stilled the storm;
they were afraid when he exorcised the legion of demons;
and they were afraid when he walked on water.

Other times, like this one, they’re afraid because they don’t understand him:
they were frightened by Jesus’ prediction of how he would be killed and would rise again;
they were frightened by his instruction describing discipleship as servant leadership where the first will be last and the last will be first;
and, ultimately, they were frightened when they found the tomb empty and realized Jesus had been speaking truth.

And their fear silenced them. They chose to live in fearful un-knowing than ask questions of
the teacher whom they had been following;
the mentor who had been teaching them;
the leader who had been walking faithfully before them.

That is the power of fear.
Fear tells us that questions are not ok.
Fear tells us that the people we have known and lived with — the very same people whom we love and who love us — will mock us or ridicule us.

We think everyone around us knows the answers to all the questions, but if we could see their hearts, we’d discover that each one of us is just as afraid as the next person.

But there is no reason to fear. Proverbs tells us, “The human spirit is the lamp of the LORD, searching every inmost part.” (Proverbs 20:27) and the Psalmist says, God formed our inward parts and knit us together in our mothers’ wombs. (Psalm 139:13) There is no part of us that is unknown or unseen by God, not even our questions.

When we denounce fear as something that separates us from knowing God and from following Jesus, then we are free to ask Jesus the questions we have been afraid to ask.

Sometimes these are BIG questions of theodicy, wondering where God is when tragedy strikes, or why we have disasters like wildfires, typhoons and hurricanes.

And sometimes, there won’t be satisfactory answers but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t ask!

One of the questions I carry is “Why are we so good at hurting each other?” I believe each one of us is created and loved by God and God grieves our brokenness and our capacity to do real harm, physically and emotionally. And while I hold onto God’s capacity to heal us and our brokenness, I wonder, “Why?”

Often the questions that take us out of relationship with God and distract us from following Jesus are everyday questions. They are the questions that begin with

“A good Christian would know this but….”
“This probably makes me a heretic, but….”
“God won’t love me if I wonder about….”

They are the questions that happen when faith and life collide. 

And it is in those very questions where we meet Jesus who came into the world as God’s own Son, fully human and fully divine, and lived among us that we would know God is a God of relationship, one with understanding of our inmost parts and our questions.

So let’s ask our questions.
Let’s have holy conversations where we wonder what God is up to and see where miracles are happening.
Let’s look at what discipleship really means when it means following a Messiah who died on the cross to bring us life.

Let us pray…
Holy God,
Thank you for your Son who shows us how to live fully as Your children, even with our questions;
Teach us to ask and to listen; to have confidence in your promises and your merciful love;
By your Spirit, give us wisdom and understanding to live as your disciples.
We pray in the name of your Son Jesus, our Lord and Savior.
Amen.

Sunday, September 16, 2018

17th Sunday after Pentecost

Mark 8:28-37

I expect many of us have heard the old saying that, “There are no atheists in foxholes." Coined during World War II, it describes how soldiers who may not have ever professed faith would call out to God when they were facing the enemy on the front line. While most of us have never sat in a foxhole we have likely all confronted danger, fear or crisis in our lives at least once.

This very week, as Hurricane Florence churned through the Atlantic Ocean toward the Carolinas, people spoke about the storm and God, saying things like,

“It’s in God’s hands.”     or     “We need God’s help.”

As people watched the storm grow to span more than 300 miles, winds gain speed and rip trees from the ground, and floodwaters surge over streets and into neighborhoods, questions emerged,

“Is this God’s will?”        “Is God mad?”       “Is the hurricane punishment?”

The simple answer to these questions is an emphatic “No!”

Are you listening?
Because this is really important for you to hear and believe.

God was not perched above us, pointing a finger at the Carolinas and steering the storm to our doorsteps.

God who loves us, and all creation, is Emmanuel, God with us, in all circumstances, and especially in our suffering.

But the God-talk surrounding the storm and its devastation does prompt another question, and it’s the same question that Jesus asks his disciples in today’s gospel:

“Who do you say that I am?”

It’s an important question because how we talk about God and Jesus — who we say Jesus is — is reflected in who we are as his followers.

Maybe because Jesus knows how important this question is,
and how challenging it is to answer,
he starts out with an easier question.

He asks his disciples, “Who do people say that I am?”Okay, fellas, what’s the word on the street, the scuttlebutt, the rumors?

The disciples don’t so much as blink before they respond, saying some are saying that Jesus is Elijah:

Elijah who lived near 900 BCE, was a prophet who confronted the false prophets of Baal at Mount Carmel, challenging them to see who could end the drought in Israel.  We get his story in First and Second Kings and then another prophet (Malachi) tells how Elijah was taken into heaven in a chariot of fire and would come again to usher in the day of the Lord (Malachi 4:5) When people saw Jesus, they believed he might be Elijah returning as “a forerunner to the Messiah.”[i]

Still others are saying that Jesus is the John the Baptist:

Now John the Baptist was Jesus’ own cousin, who had gone before him into the countryside and heralded the beginning of the Kingdom of God here on earth. Some also mistakenly thought John the Baptist was Elijah. Eventually John was jailed and executed by King Herod, but when people saw Jesus performing miracles, they believed that John had been resurrected.

And of course, the whole of Scripture suggests other names for Jesus, including the Son of Man (Mark 8:31), the Bread of Life (John 6:35), the Light of the World (John 8:12), the Good Shepherd (John 10:7), the Way, the Truth and the Life (John 14:6) and many more. Often, trying to figure out Jesus is leads to more questions than answers.

After hearing what others are saying, Jesus asks the disciples,

“But, who do you say that I am?” (v. 29) He isn’t springing a pop-quiz on them; he is inviting them into conversation.

Just as Scripture is a living Word that comes to us new each time we encounter it, Jesus is a “living Savior” and different attributes may be more or less important to us at different places in our life of discipleship.

We don’t hear what all the disciples say, but we have Peter’s answer. He tells Jesus, “You are the Christ.”

It was believed that the χριστός (Christos) was the Anointed One of God or, in Hebrew, the Messiah: the one sent by God to lead God’s people; a perfect King who will save them from oppression and restore the kingdom of God on earth.[ii]

But instead of giving Peter a gold star or congratulating him for the “right” answer, Jesus rebukes him.

The disciples had to learn that Jesus did not come to fulfill the exalted image of a Messiah who leads from above the fray and messiness of everyday life, separate from the people of God.

Instead Jesus came into the world and turned everyone’s expectations upside down, inviting people into life together without regard to education, position or status. He valued relationship ahead of rules and showed compassion to people whom the world had cast out. Ultimately, his actions would lead him to the cross and cost him his life.

Following Jesus was not a path to exultation and to celebration, but to death.
So, when we answer the question, “Who do you say that I am?” we have to answer not only for ourselves, but also for the people we are as followers of Jesus. I cannot call Jesus compassionate and then turn my back on my neighbor. I cannot receive the forgiveness of my Savior and withhold forgiveness from my brother or sister. I cannot celebrate the abundant gifts God gives me and then be miserly in my stewardship.

So this morning, it’s our turn to answer, “Who do you say Jesus is?”  As a follower of Jesus, are you ready to live into that identity?

If you call Jesus Comforter, will you sit at a bedside, or in a waiting room with someone who is hurting?

If you call Jesus Shepherd, will you lead people to living water and protect them from threats? Will you welcome people into community and life together so no one is alone or exiled?

If you call Jesus Lord, will you put God ahead of yourself, look first to God to understand the world around you and love as you have first been loved? We are quick to worship God on Sunday mornings, but what about the rest of the week?

Jesus’ words to Peter and the disciples challenge us to see that there isn’t an easy or pat answer when it comes to understanding who Jesus is and what it means in our lives and for the people around us. But there cannot be a more important question.

Let us pray…
Holy God,
We give you thanks for your Son Jesus and the challenges that comes as questions.
Forgive us for our rush to answer swiftly and without thinking. Replace our pride and ambition to be “good Christians” with a will to be faithful followers.
Strengthen us by your Spirit to live out our confession of faith.
We pray in the name of Jesus.
Amen.

[i] Enter the Bible, https://www.enterthebible.org/oldtestament.aspx?rid=57, accessed 9/14/2018
[ii] “Christ”, Crazy Talk: A Not So Stuffy Dictionary of Theological Terms. Rolf A. Jacobson, Ed. 35-36.

Sunday, September 9, 2018

"God's Work, Our Hands Sunday"

Mark 7:31-37

Last month when Jamie and I drove downeast to visit our daughter Casey in Wilmington, we went by way of Raleigh. If you aren’t familiar with the eastern part of the state, that is not the most direct route between Shelby and Wilmington.

If you had a map and followed Jesus as he left Tyre and went through Sidon and down to the region of the Decapolis, his route would look a lot like the one we took.

Taking this route, Jesus left behind the familiar Galilean countryside and traveled to the large, heavily Hellenized cities of Tyre and of Sidon, twenty-five miles to its north. These were commercially magnificent port cities on the Mediterranean coast, well north of Galilee, in modern-day Lebanon. And then he continued on to the Decapolis which was a confederation of ten cities to the southeast of Galilee. In these urban settings, Jesus and his disciples would have encountered people, sounds and sights that were strange and sometimes hostile.

Just as his journey takes Jesus into new territory geographically, his ministry also takes a visible turn, as he widens his audience to include not only traditionally Jewish followers but the whole world. As a Jew in these cities Greek in culture and dominated by Gentiles, Jesus would have been an outsider but the division between insiders and outsiders is one of the first casualties of the Gospel that makes no distinction between Jew and Greek, slave or free, male and female. (Galatians 3:28)

Today’s gospel includes two different encounters and I’m going to focus on the second one which begins in verse 31, when people bring “to [Jesus] a man who was deaf and could hardly talk” and they ask Jesus to heal him. (Mark 7:32)

We don’t know a lot more about the man and because this account is unique to Mark’s gospel, we can’t even turn to the other gospels to find clues. We can look at what is missing. Sometimes in the gospels when Jesus meets a person in need of healing, the community has questions about the sin they have committed or that their parents committed. The question that gets asked is, “What did they do to deserve this suffering?”

Sometimes, the person is possessed by an evil spirit or a demon, and has been cast out, shunned and made unwelcome.

But, here, perhaps because this meeting takes place in the Decapolis, outside the religious community, this man isn’t subject to any of that scrutiny. His need is simply made known to Jesus, and meeting him, Jesus says,

“Be opened.”

And maybe that’s all we really need to know about the man.

After all, as Lutheran pastor David Lose writes, “Because whatever else we don’t understand, we do know what it is like to be stuck, to be closed, to be blocked.”[i] There is a dark and heavy powerlessness that covers you when you are frozen by uncertainty or doubt, trapped or unable to move, or blocked by obstacles that overwhelm you. And, while physical or bodily healing, cures and remission from disease are not always possible, God’s healing presence is always offered to us in Jesus.

Throughout his gospel, “Mark emphasizes the powerful acts of Jesus….[showing that] in Jesus, God has intervened in human history.” (Nissen, 39) Despite often being commanded by Jesus “not to tell anyone” about these encounters, people cannot resist sharing the stories of their experiences with the Son of God. They bear witness to the transformation that Jesus brings: to the restoration of hope and to the confidence in God’s promises. And people notice! Their eyes, too, are opened to God’s healing presence in the world.

With abundant and indiscriminate mercy, God, who created us for life-giving relationship, renews and restores us.

Today, on this “God’s Work, Our Hands” Sunday when Lutheran congregations across the country are engaged in projects that proclaim the Good News of Jesus in our communities, the description of Jesus’ physical actions– thrusting, spitting, touching, looking up, sighing, speaking – emphasizes the importance of our physical presence and witness in the world. Ours is a living and active faith.

Later in worship, after the offering, you are invited to be anointed for service in the world. Anointing is rooted in ritual that proclaims the presence of Christ in our lives as we come before God in prayer and prepare to embody God’s love in our community. I’ll stand at the font with the oil and the words:

“I anoint you in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. May the work begun and continued and ended in and through you bring glory to Christ in his holy church.”

Today, and every day, “God’s Work, Our Hands” isn’t just a slogan; it is how we live out the gospel, showing up so that people will know the unlimited love that God has for each one of us.

Let us pray…
Holy God,
Thank you for the gift of Your Son Jesus who shows forth your love and mercy.
Open our hearts to love as we are first loved and open our eyes to see your children as you see each one of us, whole and healed.
Send us into every corner of the world, united by your love.
We pray in the name of Jesus,
Amen.

[i] In the Meantime, http://www.davidlose.net/2012/06/mark-7-31-37/ accessed 9/6/2018

Sunday, September 2, 2018

15th Sunday after Pentecost

Psalm 15

It is, of course, Labor Day Weekend and the traditional end of summer just in case you missed the swell in the volume of cars on the roads, schoolbuses and back-to-school sales.  But with every ending there is a beginning. For our students and teachers, it’s the beginning of a new school year, but September often means the beginning of new schedules, routines or rhythms if only because summer is fading. Here at Ascension, while the long, green season of Ordinary Time continues through the end of November, today marks the beginning of a new season for our worship with a different musical setting for parts of our worship like the acclamation before you hear the gospel read, the dialogue during Holy Communion and for Lamb of God. We resumed singing the kyrie – our plea for God’s mercy – and the psalm and we returned to the gospel of Mark after five weeks of eating the bread of life in John’s Gospel.

So isn’t it fitting that today we hear Psalm 15, a psalm that probably functioned as an entrance rite for pilgrims arriving in  Jerusalem and entering the temple for worship?

As a liturgical starting point in worship, the psalm first poses a question to God, and then tells us how God answers.

The question that is asked is “Who shall live in God’s house?” In some translations it asks, who can dwell on God’s holy hill, dwell in God’s sanctuary or abide in God’s tent. It is a question about worship and everyday life and how we will “invite and welcome God’s nearness or presence” in our lives.[i]

Instead of standing guard or acting as a gatekeeper, here the psalmist is speaking to God’s people in the same way that Joshua addressed the Israelites, in Joshua Chapter 24. Joshua told them what the Lord had said and then challenged them,

“Now if you are unwilling to serve the LORD, choose this day whom you will serve, … but as for me and my household, we will serve the LORD." (Joshua 24:15)

The psalmist encourages us to answer,
as for me and my house,
as for us and this congregation,
we will be ones who dwell in God’s sanctuary because
we will be the kind of people God describes here.

In four short verses the psalmist describes how God’s faithful people live.

The psalm can be read as a summary of the laws given to Moses and recalled in Deuteronomy Chapter 4, the ones that would set the Israelites apart as a “wise and discerning people.” (Deut. 4:6) As modern psalmist and songwriter Richard Bruxvoort Colligan says, “Tell the truth. Live honestly. Be kind. Be generous.”[ii]

But these statutes and ordinances are about more than the Golden Rule or even preserving good order. This is who we are and how we are to live because we are God’s people in the world.

Each week at the beginning of our worship, in our corporate confession, we acknowledge our own sinfulness, so when God asks us to “walk blamelessly,” it seems like an impossible task. And it is, when we try to do it alone! But we believe that when our sin brings us to the cross, and we cannot redeem ourselves, God forgives us and redeems us. So, in that same rite, we also receive God’s forgiveness, and by the Holy Spirit, we are sanctified or made holy, so that we can walk blameless in God’s sight. Writer Nan Merrill describes this way of being as “[walking] with integrity and in harmony with [God’s] Word.”[iii]

Continuing, the psalmist describes God’s people as ones who “speak the truth.” In today’s Gospel Jesus criticizes the very religious because they are not being genuine, or truthful, saying,
"Isaiah prophesied rightly about you hypocrites, as it is written, 'This people honors me with their lips, but their hearts are far from me; (Mark 7:6 NRS)
Deceiving ourselves into thinking that we are imitating Jesus, we are quick to point fingers or draw our own lines between good and evil, and inevitably, place ourselves on the side of the “good.”

But as theologian Ted Peters writes, the truth is that, “when we draw lines between good and evil, curiously, God places the divine self on the evil side of our line.”[iv] So, here, again, we find ourselves in an impossible situation!

At least it seems impossible, until we stop trying on our own “to make ourselves look and feel like we belong on the good side.” [v] When we confess our arrogance and vanity, God takes us from where we really are — on the evil side of our line, blinded by our own sin — and forgives and redeems us.[vi]

Do you see how, in each verse, the psalmist corrects our propensity to rely on ourselves? We cannot be either blameless or honest, truth tellers until God transforms us. We cannot live as God’s people apart from God’s participation in our lives.

The remainder of the psalm shows us how God wants us to love others, with unwavering commitment and without either malice or deceit. Freed by God’s participation in our lives, we can participate fully in the lives of those around us. As Martin Luther writes in “Freedom of a Christian”:

[we] should be guided in all [our] works by …[a desire] to serve and benefit others in all that [we do], considering nothing except the need and the advantage of [our] neighbor.[vii]

While there are religious traditions that emphasize following God’s law and commandments so that you will not anger God or so that you may receive God’s blessing, reading this psalm through the lens of our Lutheran faith instructs us that living as God’s faithful people is a response to what we have first been given. In this time of new beginnings, serving our neighbors and communities, and placing the well-being of others ahead of our self-interest remind us that all life begins with God and all things spring forth from that holy beginning.

Let us pray…
Holy God,
We give you thanks for the forgiveness you give to each one of us, that we may walk blameless in your sight, not by our efforts, but by your grace.
We give you thanks for your infinite patience as we stumble and try to go it alone, returning to you with bruised hearts and egos.
Help us always worship and live in harmony with your Word.
Send us out into the world, empowered by Your Holy Spirit, to invite and welcome others into life with You.
We pray in the name of Your Son Jesus.
Amen.

[i] Craig A. Satterlee. Working Preacher Commentary. http://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=619, accessed 9/1/2018.
[ii] Richard Bruxvoort Colligan, https://www.pulpitfiction.com/notes/epiphany4a?rq=psalm%2015, accessed 8/28/2018.
[iii] Nan C. Merrill. Psalms for Praying. 21.
[iv] Ted Peters. “Dirty Ethics for Bold Sinning.” Journal of Lutheran Ethics. Volume 15, Issue 8.
[v] ibid
[vi] ibid[vii] Martin Luther. “Freedom of a Christian.” Three Treatises. 302.