Luke 9:51-62
At the beginning of today’s gospel, Luke tells us that Jesus has set his face toward Jerusalem, determined that he will go there, but first he will stop in Samaria.
You may remember that Samaria was where Gentiles, or non-Jews, live. Unlike the Jews who worship at the Temple in Jerusalem, the Samaritans worship at a temple on Mount Gerizim (Gərizim). And in fact, in John’s gospel, the Evangelist tells us Samaritans “shared nothing in common with Jews.” (John 4)
So we shouldn’t be surprised that when Jesus sends his messengers ahead of him, the Samaritans reject his visit. Maybe there was another innkeeper who declared there was no room or the local merchants locked their doors and shuttered their windows, but it was clear that Jesus wasn’t welcome there.
A few verses earlier in this chapter, Luke told us that Jesus sent his disciples out “to proclaim the kingdom of God and to heal” (v. 2), and, when he sent them out, he instructed them to shake the dust off their feet if they were not welcomed. (v. 5)
Luke doesn’t give us any time markers in this chapter so we don’t know how many days or weeks or months had passed since that sending, but James and John clearly have forgotten his instructions, and they become defensive and angry and ask Jesus if they should command fire to come down and consume the Samaritans.
While we don’t hear the exact words he says or the tone of his voice, Luke tells us that Jesus rebukes them. After all, he has already told his disciples to expect his suffering, rejection and death. (Luke 9:22) The One whom the angel foretold would “guide our feet in the way of peace” (Luke 1:79) isn’t bringing destruction or hellfire upon those who do not share his beliefs.
Instead he does what he told his disciples to do: he shakes the dust from his feet and goes on to the next village, galvanized toward Jerusalem. But that’s the last we see of a compassionate or merciful Jesus in this passage. It’s the last we see of the Jesus we meet as children or when we are hurting. And I’d guess that many of us find his next words hard to hear.
Because the next three conversations he has are with “would-be” disciples whom he meets on the way. Two volunteer to follow Jesus, while another one responds to his command.
In his first encounter, someone says, “I will follow you wherever you go.” The person’s sweeping grand gesture elicits a reminder from Jesus that becoming his disciple doesn’t provide any guarantee of the creature comforts of a home or a bed. And we know, on this side of Golgotha, that following Jesus “wherever he goes” means the cross. The call to discipleship is costly.
The next conversation we hear is when Jesus commands someone else, “Follow me.” And the “would-be” disciple replies, “Yes, Lord, but first” let me bury my father. (9:59) It isn’t like he asked for something trivial or selfish; he asked to be allowed to fulfill the commandment to “honor father and mother.” It’s entirely possible if he was the eldest son that he would have had responsibilities to his mother and perhaps to his siblings. But the call to discipleship is unyielding.
The final conversation in today’s gospel happens when a third person says he, too, will follow Jesus, but first he wants to say goodbye to his household. Remember Jesus’ words when he said, "Whoever seeks to keep his life will lose it and whoever loses his life shall preserve it.”? (Luke 17:33, NAS) Brusquely, Jesus tells the man that no one who “looks back is fit for the Kingdom of God.” (9:62) The call to discipleship is disruptive.
Discipleship demands that we reorder our lives and priorities to follow Jesus. The text brings us face-to-face with Jesus, and compels us to ask ourselves, “What do we say when we hear Jesus call, “Follow me.”?
When Jesus says “Follow me, and love your enemies and do good to those who hate you.” (Luke 6:27) We say, “Yes, Lord, but first” let’s show them we have the strength and power to destroy them.
When Jesus says “Follow me, and give to everyone who begs from you;” (Luke 6:30) we say, “Yes, Lord, but first” let’s make sure they won’t make fools of us.
And, when Jesus says, “Follow me, and be merciful, just as your Father is merciful” (Luke 6:36) we say “Yes, Lord, but first” let’s make sure they can be useful to us.
Is it any wonder Jesus is terse with the “would-be” disciples?
Our answer must be “Yes, Lord.” without any of the conditions or excuses.
Remember Martin Luther’s definition of sin? It is being “curved in on ourselves.” In our human condition we will always look first to our own abilities and priorities and protect our own egos and comfort, placing our needs before others.
But on the cross, Jesus sacrifices himself – emptying himself – to redeem us. He forgives our sin and promises we will be with Him in the kingdom of God – a kingdom that is now but not yet.
Confident in God’s promises and of God’s presence with us, we live here and now. As his disciples, Jesus calls us to humble servanthood, invites us into a new covenant relationship with God; and asks us to look and see all that God is doing in and through His people. May our “yes” be yes. (James 5:12)
Let us pray…
Holy God,
We give you thanks for Your Son Jesus who shows us the Way to abundant life full of love, generosity and mercy;
Forgive us when we put ourselves ahead of others, even when we think we have good reasons or mean well;
By Your Holy Spirit, set our faces to Your Son that we will follow Him with obedience, discipline and commitment.
Amen.
Sunday, June 30, 2019
Redemption
When I was a girl, my grandparents had a studio. The batiks my grandmommy had made hung there, and there a darkroom for developing film, and there was a pottery wheel and a small kiln. My granddaddy was over six feet tall, and I think the wheel stood as tall as me. I remember climbing into the metal seat. I'm pretty sure the pedal was on the ground. I want to remember that he pressed the pedal while I worked with the clay, but I don't have any real memory of that. I may have just clambered around on it, enjoying being tall for once.
My grandparents had all kinds of pottery in their house: raku vases and wood fired plates and platters, and an assortment of mugs and small drinking cups, too. I soon learned the joy of wandering through galleries and pottery shows and admiring the array of shapes, textures and glazes.
So this summer when I had the opportunity to take a beginner's pottery class at the community college, I signed up.
You start with a round ball of clay that hasn't been worked too much already and then you have a choice. You can hand build piece, or you can go to a wheel.
Working at a wheel means you have to center the clay on the wheel. Experienced potters make centering the clay look easy. It's not. A variance of a fraction of an inch will start the clay vibrating and, unless you can force it into submission, at some point, you just have to scrape it off and put it in the scrap bag where it can be rolled into a new ball later.
The same thing happens in quilting when you think no one will notice that 1/8 of an inch variance in your pieces and then your flying geese have their wings clipped when they're pieced. Or in knitting when you neglect to knit up a swatch and wind up with a sweater too big, or too small. The first lesson is do the work! There are no shortcuts. (That said, there are kind instructors who center your clay so you can create something that day!)
My first completed piece had a very wobbly edge and a belly, but my second piece had a nice lip. I took what I made and wrapped it in light plastic sheeting and left it on a shelf after the first class.
Then it was time to unwrap the piece and use my tools to trim and sand the piece and sign it. My great-aunt used to sign her pieces "Mary Clio" in script but I decided "Christina" was too many letters and chose to sign my first and last initials.
I made two more pieces. The one on the right had very thick walls but the fourth began to look like something.
When I came back the next week the pieces had gone through a
bisque firing that makes the pieces porous and ready for glaze. That's when
your imagination gets to work because none of the glazes look the way
they will when they have been fired. You have an idea from other finished pieces
but the color of the clay and whether you layer the glazes will affect
the end result. With no small amount of trepidation, I glazed my pieces and crossed my fingers.
Then I witnessed something incredible. All of the faults in those pieces were erased in that second firing and the pieces were transformed! They were real and they were beautiful.
These were no longer balls of clay, untouched and lacking shape or depth. They were no longer merely a beginner's clumsy attempts. The wobbly edge on my first piece became wave like. The second piece may hold the ashes from the palms burned for Ash Wednesday next year. The bowl with the thick walls has a nearly even stripe around it and the last bowl glistens under its solid black glaze. Looking at these pieces at any point in time in their creation, I never imagined what they would become. It was beyond my understanding to know.
One of my daughters tells me I always bring the conversation back to God talk, and I'll plead guilty, but seeing these pieces reminded me how little I know about the reach of God's activity in our world; it is beyond my understanding too.And yet, I'm invited into life, to try and stumble and try again, confident God will bring redemption and transformation.
My grandparents had all kinds of pottery in their house: raku vases and wood fired plates and platters, and an assortment of mugs and small drinking cups, too. I soon learned the joy of wandering through galleries and pottery shows and admiring the array of shapes, textures and glazes.
So this summer when I had the opportunity to take a beginner's pottery class at the community college, I signed up.
You start with a round ball of clay that hasn't been worked too much already and then you have a choice. You can hand build piece, or you can go to a wheel.
Working at a wheel means you have to center the clay on the wheel. Experienced potters make centering the clay look easy. It's not. A variance of a fraction of an inch will start the clay vibrating and, unless you can force it into submission, at some point, you just have to scrape it off and put it in the scrap bag where it can be rolled into a new ball later.
The same thing happens in quilting when you think no one will notice that 1/8 of an inch variance in your pieces and then your flying geese have their wings clipped when they're pieced. Or in knitting when you neglect to knit up a swatch and wind up with a sweater too big, or too small. The first lesson is do the work! There are no shortcuts. (That said, there are kind instructors who center your clay so you can create something that day!)
My first completed piece had a very wobbly edge and a belly, but my second piece had a nice lip. I took what I made and wrapped it in light plastic sheeting and left it on a shelf after the first class.
Then it was time to unwrap the piece and use my tools to trim and sand the piece and sign it. My great-aunt used to sign her pieces "Mary Clio" in script but I decided "Christina" was too many letters and chose to sign my first and last initials.
I made two more pieces. The one on the right had very thick walls but the fourth began to look like something.
Then I witnessed something incredible. All of the faults in those pieces were erased in that second firing and the pieces were transformed! They were real and they were beautiful.
These were no longer balls of clay, untouched and lacking shape or depth. They were no longer merely a beginner's clumsy attempts. The wobbly edge on my first piece became wave like. The second piece may hold the ashes from the palms burned for Ash Wednesday next year. The bowl with the thick walls has a nearly even stripe around it and the last bowl glistens under its solid black glaze. Looking at these pieces at any point in time in their creation, I never imagined what they would become. It was beyond my understanding to know.
One of my daughters tells me I always bring the conversation back to God talk, and I'll plead guilty, but seeing these pieces reminded me how little I know about the reach of God's activity in our world; it is beyond my understanding too.And yet, I'm invited into life, to try and stumble and try again, confident God will bring redemption and transformation.
Sunday, June 23, 2019
Lectionary 12C/ Proper 7
Luke 8:26-39
This morning, imagine you have set down a book and then had to go back and reread the last chapter or two to remember what had taken place, or you watched a season finale in a television series and then had a couple of months to forget what had happened. That is where we find ourselves this morning. Because while we are in the “year of Luke”, the third year of the revised common lectionary cycle, we’ve had only one Gospel lesson from Luke since Easter. So it may be helpful to be re-introduced to the third gospel.
Luke’s gospel is one of the three synoptic gospels with Matthew and Mark, and while they each have different purposes, these three gospels share common sources and content with each other. Luke’s gospel, the latest of the three, was written more than ten years after the destruction of the Jerusalem temple by the Roman army and, at the time it was written, the people of Israel were living under occupation and subject to Roman law. The contemporary belief is that the writer of the gospel was a member of the Christian community, and at home in the Greco-Roman culture. Perhaps he was a Gentile Christian or a covert from Hellenistic Judaism.[i]
Certainly, one of the prominent themes in Luke’s gospel is that Jesus Christ is not only a prophet like Moses and the Jewish Messiah but that Jesus brings Good News to the whole world, especially to those who are excluded or marginalized.[ii]
Earlier in Luke’s gospel, Jesus was traveling from town to town in the region of Galilee with his disciples. When, in verse 26, it says “they arrived in the country of the Gerasenes,” they had just crossed the Sea of Galilee.
It’s helpful to remember that anytime in Scripture when water is crossed – the crossing of the Reed Sea when the Israelites fled Egypt, the crossing of the Jordan into the promised land of Canaan , or the crossing of the Sea of Galilee – it signals to us that God is at work doing something new.[iii]
Today’s gospel tells us that Jesus willingly went to a Gentile or non-Jewish land. We know that first from the geography of the region, which shows the Decapolis east of the Sea of Galilee; the Decapolis being a region of ten cities that were “centers of Greek culture.”[iv] But it’s also clear from the text because there are swine or pigs that wouldn’t have been found in religiously-observant Jewish households where people would have believed that contact with the animals would have made someone ritually unclean.
But Gentiles and pigs aren’t the only untouchables in this story.
Luke tells us that when Jesus came ashore, he was met by a man from town who was possessed by demons, naked and lived among the tombs. (v. 27) Both his illness and his living conditions assured that he was cast out from the town and by the people in the countryside. Luke goes on to say that the man had been bound and chained but he always broke free from his shackles and withdrew to deserted places. A street person – unnamed and experiencing homelessness – he is only identified by the ones who possessed him – the thousands of demons called “Legion.”
Recently I heard again a TED talk given by the Nigerian novelist Chimamanda Adichie who talks about the risk we take when we let ourselves define a person or a group of people by a single attribute. Citing the danger of what she calls “a single story”, Adichie describes times when she has been subjected to a single story from people who “only knew about Africa from popular images… of beautiful landscapes, beautiful animals, and incomprehensible people, fighting senseless wars, [and] dying of poverty and AIDS.” And then she confesses times when she, in turn, has been the one who has told a single story, such as the flawed one she learned from the American debate over immigrants and refugees, the one that says that Mexicans and Central Americans are animals and rapists bringing drugs and crime into this country.
After Hitler came to power in 1933, the single story told by the Nazis was heard in their “portrayal of the Jews as disease-spreading rats feeding off the host nation, poisoning its culture and polluting the Aryan race… as butchers and …as aliens.”[v] That single story was accepted as Truth even as millions of Jews were deported and housed in concentration camps where six million people were executed.
Adichie reminds us that,
Refusing to fall for the single story, Jesus sees the Gerasene man as more than just the demons who possess him. He recognizes him as wholly human, a beloved child of God, created in God’s image.
What struck me in reading the gospel this time wasn’t the miraculous healing that the man experienced, with the demons driven into the herd of pigs and sent down the steep banks into the water. (v. 33) What caught my attention was the reaction of the people who saw what Jesus did
First Luke tells us the swineherds who witnessed the events ran away to tell others. Now when we hear the story of Jesus’ birth, we’re told those shepherds made known what had been told them and all who heard it were amazed” and, picturing Bethlehem, I imagine that they told the story with reverence and awe. But when I hear that the swineherds ran away to report the incident of the man’s deliverance, their actions sound much more ominous, like people inciting a mob to riot.
Perhaps that’s because when the people do come to see for themselves, Luke tells us they were seized with fear. (v. 35, 37)
They didn’t throw their arms joyfully around the man who’d they seen tormented and tortured. They didn’t find a place where he could live or offer him food, or even listen to his story. They were afraid.
They were so afraid that they asked Jesus to leave. (v. 37)
As often as we witness suffering from a distance and pray for people who are living with illness, I want to believe if I witnessed a miraculous healing, I would rejoice and give thanks, but whenever I think I would have been more faithful or obedient than the biblical characters, I know I am probably fooling myself.
They may not have liked having a demon-possessed man in their midst, but he had lived imprisoned or alone, always keeping his distance. They thought they knew this man’s story and where he belonged. They had succumbed to the allure of the single story.
Jesus challenged their understanding of the world around them. And that was unacceptable, so they asked him to leave. After all, the problem wasn’t with them. It was that troublemaker Jesus.
But when Jesus troubles the waters, it is what’s known as “good trouble.” There are a lot of single stories out there and it’s easy for us to point at others and think we know their story, but Jesus calls us to be united under one Lord and reconciled with one another. And to help us on the Way, Jesus shows us another story, where each person is afforded dignity and seen fully, where we are asked to listen and hear how much God has done for them. Because each one of us, with our stories, is a beloved child of God, created in God’s own image.
Let us pray…
Holy and Redeeming Lord,
Thank you for creating each one us wonderfully in your image; forgive us when we will not listen to another person’s story or see them as your beloved child;
Forgive us when we are afraid.
Open our ears to hear and open our hearts to love each person with the love you have first given us.
We pray in the name of Your Son Jesus.
Amen.
[i] Fred Craddock. Luke. 16.
[ii] Craddock, 19.
[iii] “Pulpit Fiction.” https://www.pulpitfiction.com/notes/proper7c, accessed 6/18/2019.
[iv] “Decapolis.” Enter The Bible. Luther Seminary. https://www.enterthebible.org/resourcelink.aspx?rid=1277, accessed 6/22/2019.
[v] “Propaganda and Hoaxes in Nazi Germany: 80 Years Later.” https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/the-superhuman-mind/201811/propaganda-and-hoaxes-in-nazi-germany-80-years-later, accessed 6/23/2019
[vi] https://www.ted.com/talks/chimamanda_adichie_the_danger_of_a_single_story?language=en, accessed 6/22/2019
This morning, imagine you have set down a book and then had to go back and reread the last chapter or two to remember what had taken place, or you watched a season finale in a television series and then had a couple of months to forget what had happened. That is where we find ourselves this morning. Because while we are in the “year of Luke”, the third year of the revised common lectionary cycle, we’ve had only one Gospel lesson from Luke since Easter. So it may be helpful to be re-introduced to the third gospel.
Luke’s gospel is one of the three synoptic gospels with Matthew and Mark, and while they each have different purposes, these three gospels share common sources and content with each other. Luke’s gospel, the latest of the three, was written more than ten years after the destruction of the Jerusalem temple by the Roman army and, at the time it was written, the people of Israel were living under occupation and subject to Roman law. The contemporary belief is that the writer of the gospel was a member of the Christian community, and at home in the Greco-Roman culture. Perhaps he was a Gentile Christian or a covert from Hellenistic Judaism.[i]
Certainly, one of the prominent themes in Luke’s gospel is that Jesus Christ is not only a prophet like Moses and the Jewish Messiah but that Jesus brings Good News to the whole world, especially to those who are excluded or marginalized.[ii]
Earlier in Luke’s gospel, Jesus was traveling from town to town in the region of Galilee with his disciples. When, in verse 26, it says “they arrived in the country of the Gerasenes,” they had just crossed the Sea of Galilee.
It’s helpful to remember that anytime in Scripture when water is crossed – the crossing of the Reed Sea when the Israelites fled Egypt, the crossing of the Jordan into the promised land of Canaan , or the crossing of the Sea of Galilee – it signals to us that God is at work doing something new.[iii]
Today’s gospel tells us that Jesus willingly went to a Gentile or non-Jewish land. We know that first from the geography of the region, which shows the Decapolis east of the Sea of Galilee; the Decapolis being a region of ten cities that were “centers of Greek culture.”[iv] But it’s also clear from the text because there are swine or pigs that wouldn’t have been found in religiously-observant Jewish households where people would have believed that contact with the animals would have made someone ritually unclean.
But Gentiles and pigs aren’t the only untouchables in this story.
Luke tells us that when Jesus came ashore, he was met by a man from town who was possessed by demons, naked and lived among the tombs. (v. 27) Both his illness and his living conditions assured that he was cast out from the town and by the people in the countryside. Luke goes on to say that the man had been bound and chained but he always broke free from his shackles and withdrew to deserted places. A street person – unnamed and experiencing homelessness – he is only identified by the ones who possessed him – the thousands of demons called “Legion.”
Recently I heard again a TED talk given by the Nigerian novelist Chimamanda Adichie who talks about the risk we take when we let ourselves define a person or a group of people by a single attribute. Citing the danger of what she calls “a single story”, Adichie describes times when she has been subjected to a single story from people who “only knew about Africa from popular images… of beautiful landscapes, beautiful animals, and incomprehensible people, fighting senseless wars, [and] dying of poverty and AIDS.” And then she confesses times when she, in turn, has been the one who has told a single story, such as the flawed one she learned from the American debate over immigrants and refugees, the one that says that Mexicans and Central Americans are animals and rapists bringing drugs and crime into this country.
After Hitler came to power in 1933, the single story told by the Nazis was heard in their “portrayal of the Jews as disease-spreading rats feeding off the host nation, poisoning its culture and polluting the Aryan race… as butchers and …as aliens.”[v] That single story was accepted as Truth even as millions of Jews were deported and housed in concentration camps where six million people were executed.
Adichie reminds us that,
The single story creates stereotypes, and the problem with stereotypes is not that they are untrue, but that they are incomplete. They make one story become the only story.She offers that listening to many stories about a people or a place restores dignity to the people to whom the stories belong and gives us a way to engage with each person as wholly human. [vi]
Refusing to fall for the single story, Jesus sees the Gerasene man as more than just the demons who possess him. He recognizes him as wholly human, a beloved child of God, created in God’s image.
What struck me in reading the gospel this time wasn’t the miraculous healing that the man experienced, with the demons driven into the herd of pigs and sent down the steep banks into the water. (v. 33) What caught my attention was the reaction of the people who saw what Jesus did
First Luke tells us the swineherds who witnessed the events ran away to tell others. Now when we hear the story of Jesus’ birth, we’re told those shepherds made known what had been told them and all who heard it were amazed” and, picturing Bethlehem, I imagine that they told the story with reverence and awe. But when I hear that the swineherds ran away to report the incident of the man’s deliverance, their actions sound much more ominous, like people inciting a mob to riot.
Perhaps that’s because when the people do come to see for themselves, Luke tells us they were seized with fear. (v. 35, 37)
They didn’t throw their arms joyfully around the man who’d they seen tormented and tortured. They didn’t find a place where he could live or offer him food, or even listen to his story. They were afraid.
They were so afraid that they asked Jesus to leave. (v. 37)
As often as we witness suffering from a distance and pray for people who are living with illness, I want to believe if I witnessed a miraculous healing, I would rejoice and give thanks, but whenever I think I would have been more faithful or obedient than the biblical characters, I know I am probably fooling myself.
They may not have liked having a demon-possessed man in their midst, but he had lived imprisoned or alone, always keeping his distance. They thought they knew this man’s story and where he belonged. They had succumbed to the allure of the single story.
Jesus challenged their understanding of the world around them. And that was unacceptable, so they asked him to leave. After all, the problem wasn’t with them. It was that troublemaker Jesus.
But when Jesus troubles the waters, it is what’s known as “good trouble.” There are a lot of single stories out there and it’s easy for us to point at others and think we know their story, but Jesus calls us to be united under one Lord and reconciled with one another. And to help us on the Way, Jesus shows us another story, where each person is afforded dignity and seen fully, where we are asked to listen and hear how much God has done for them. Because each one of us, with our stories, is a beloved child of God, created in God’s own image.
Let us pray…
Holy and Redeeming Lord,
Thank you for creating each one us wonderfully in your image; forgive us when we will not listen to another person’s story or see them as your beloved child;
Forgive us when we are afraid.
Open our ears to hear and open our hearts to love each person with the love you have first given us.
We pray in the name of Your Son Jesus.
Amen.
[i] Fred Craddock. Luke. 16.
[ii] Craddock, 19.
[iii] “Pulpit Fiction.” https://www.pulpitfiction.com/notes/proper7c, accessed 6/18/2019.
[iv] “Decapolis.” Enter The Bible. Luther Seminary. https://www.enterthebible.org/resourcelink.aspx?rid=1277, accessed 6/22/2019.
[v] “Propaganda and Hoaxes in Nazi Germany: 80 Years Later.” https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/the-superhuman-mind/201811/propaganda-and-hoaxes-in-nazi-germany-80-years-later, accessed 6/23/2019
[vi] https://www.ted.com/talks/chimamanda_adichie_the_danger_of_a_single_story?language=en, accessed 6/22/2019
Sunday, June 9, 2019
Day of Pentecost
Acts 2:1-21
In the Broadway production “The Music Man” Professor Harold Hill promises the town of River City the answer to all their problems. He convinces the folks there to let him start a marching band and they give him money to purchase uniforms and instruments and are filled with excitement about the future. But then, neither the instruments nor the uniforms don’t arrive, and someone accuses Professor Harold Hill, saying he’s no professor at all; he is a con man, a thief, who travels from town to town scheming and cheating folks before leaving town with their money. And just when it looks like the professor may get tarred and feathered and run out of town, the band of children appear dressed in second-hand uniforms and playing tarnished instruments badly out of tune. At least that’s what most of us see. But then we hear mothers and fathers shouting, “That tuba is my Barney!” and “That’s Eddie’s clarinet!” and “That ‘s my Davey!” The cacophony that surrounded them fades, and each one hears clearly the music their child is playing.
In the closing scene “76 trombones”, we witness a transformation as the ragtag band of children multiplies and the street is filled by the townspeople and a marching band dressed in sharp red uniforms with shiny brass buttons and playing gleaming instruments, led by none other than Harold Hill.
In the scene we hear Luke describe in Acts Chapter 2, when the Holy Spirit comes upon the apostles, suddenly the crowd gathered around them hears them speak about God’s deeds of power in their own languages. All of the other noises of the crowd –the other languages being spoken and the murmurs of surprise and wonder – that surrounded them faded and they could hear clearly.
The Holy Spirit is the One who brings transformation. We cannot by our own thinking or choosing believe in Jesus Christ. Like the crowds in Jerusalem that day we carry too much judgment, skepticism and doubt –we are turned inward and too full of ourselves – to believe on our own. But the Holy Spirit brings us to faith in Christ. In his explanation of the third article of the apostles’ creed, Martin Luther writes, “the Holy Spirit has called me by the gospel, enlightened me with his gifts, sanctified and kept me in the true faith. In the same way he calls, gathers, enlightens, and sanctifies the whole Christian Church on earth, and keeps it with Jesus Christ in the one true faith.”[i]
It’s possible we will never witness the physical presence of the Spirit described here – the “divided tongues, as of fire” that appeared among the apostles, or even “the rush of a violent wind” that ushered it in. But the Holy Spirit is known by many different names throughout Scripture. In our texts and prayers today alone we hear the Holy Spirit called Holy Wisdom, Holy Ghost, Spirit of God, and Advocate. And the Good News of Pentecost is that we encounter the Holy Spirit in our lives in surprising ways and in unexpected places, and Her presence reveals God’s own self to us in ways we can understand.
On this day of Pentecost, when we celebrate confirmation with Ruth Anne and with Caleb, that is especially good news. After three years of exploring the story of God and what Martin Luther teaches and questioning how faith and God are connected to our every day lives, they are affirming for themselves the faith given them in baptism and nurtured in the Church.
Often we stop there in the story, satisfied by the goodness of seeing the Holy Spirit active in the lives of God’s people. But in Acts Peter prompts us to try to answer the question, “What does this mean?” Similarly, Martin Luther asked the question “Was ist das?”, or “What is this?” in his Small Catechism, where he examined the Commandments, the Lord’s Prayer, the Creed and the Sacraments.
As people of faith we are invited to wrestle with what it means to believe and to bear witness to God’s activity in our lives and the world.
The Acts account is not the first occurrence of Pentecost. The people following Jesus at the time of this account were called followers of the Way, but they were Jewish, having been raised on reading the Torah and celebrating Jewish holy days. The Day of Pentecost was a Jewish festival, celebrated fifty days after Passover where God’s people, Israel, celebrated the harvest and remembered how God had given them the law at Mount Sinai.
The Day of Pentecost celebrates that the Spirit creates and continues to create, making all things new.
And on this Pentecost the apostles and the people of Jerusalem experienced God in wholly new ways.
In addition to those who thought the apostles were drunk, I expect there were some who were afraid. But in the midst of their misgivings, their wondering and their awe, Peter addressed them all, finding in the words of the prophet Joel a way to describe something bigger than what their imaginations or experiences could grasp: to name the ways God promises were being fulfilled in them on that day. They were glimpsing God’s own Spirit among them.
As we celebrate confirmation with Ruth Anne and Caleb,
may we be alert for the ways that the Holy Spirit shows up in our lives, surprising us, leading us and renewing us.
May we always return to the Word and faith we are given to make sense of what we are seeing and hearing.
May we have confidence in God’s goodness in our lives and be relieved of fear.
Thanks be to God.
[i] Martin Luther. Small Catechism.
In the Broadway production “The Music Man” Professor Harold Hill promises the town of River City the answer to all their problems. He convinces the folks there to let him start a marching band and they give him money to purchase uniforms and instruments and are filled with excitement about the future. But then, neither the instruments nor the uniforms don’t arrive, and someone accuses Professor Harold Hill, saying he’s no professor at all; he is a con man, a thief, who travels from town to town scheming and cheating folks before leaving town with their money. And just when it looks like the professor may get tarred and feathered and run out of town, the band of children appear dressed in second-hand uniforms and playing tarnished instruments badly out of tune. At least that’s what most of us see. But then we hear mothers and fathers shouting, “That tuba is my Barney!” and “That’s Eddie’s clarinet!” and “That ‘s my Davey!” The cacophony that surrounded them fades, and each one hears clearly the music their child is playing.
In the closing scene “76 trombones”, we witness a transformation as the ragtag band of children multiplies and the street is filled by the townspeople and a marching band dressed in sharp red uniforms with shiny brass buttons and playing gleaming instruments, led by none other than Harold Hill.
In the scene we hear Luke describe in Acts Chapter 2, when the Holy Spirit comes upon the apostles, suddenly the crowd gathered around them hears them speak about God’s deeds of power in their own languages. All of the other noises of the crowd –the other languages being spoken and the murmurs of surprise and wonder – that surrounded them faded and they could hear clearly.
The Holy Spirit is the One who brings transformation. We cannot by our own thinking or choosing believe in Jesus Christ. Like the crowds in Jerusalem that day we carry too much judgment, skepticism and doubt –we are turned inward and too full of ourselves – to believe on our own. But the Holy Spirit brings us to faith in Christ. In his explanation of the third article of the apostles’ creed, Martin Luther writes, “the Holy Spirit has called me by the gospel, enlightened me with his gifts, sanctified and kept me in the true faith. In the same way he calls, gathers, enlightens, and sanctifies the whole Christian Church on earth, and keeps it with Jesus Christ in the one true faith.”[i]
It’s possible we will never witness the physical presence of the Spirit described here – the “divided tongues, as of fire” that appeared among the apostles, or even “the rush of a violent wind” that ushered it in. But the Holy Spirit is known by many different names throughout Scripture. In our texts and prayers today alone we hear the Holy Spirit called Holy Wisdom, Holy Ghost, Spirit of God, and Advocate. And the Good News of Pentecost is that we encounter the Holy Spirit in our lives in surprising ways and in unexpected places, and Her presence reveals God’s own self to us in ways we can understand.
On this day of Pentecost, when we celebrate confirmation with Ruth Anne and with Caleb, that is especially good news. After three years of exploring the story of God and what Martin Luther teaches and questioning how faith and God are connected to our every day lives, they are affirming for themselves the faith given them in baptism and nurtured in the Church.
Often we stop there in the story, satisfied by the goodness of seeing the Holy Spirit active in the lives of God’s people. But in Acts Peter prompts us to try to answer the question, “What does this mean?” Similarly, Martin Luther asked the question “Was ist das?”, or “What is this?” in his Small Catechism, where he examined the Commandments, the Lord’s Prayer, the Creed and the Sacraments.
As people of faith we are invited to wrestle with what it means to believe and to bear witness to God’s activity in our lives and the world.
The Acts account is not the first occurrence of Pentecost. The people following Jesus at the time of this account were called followers of the Way, but they were Jewish, having been raised on reading the Torah and celebrating Jewish holy days. The Day of Pentecost was a Jewish festival, celebrated fifty days after Passover where God’s people, Israel, celebrated the harvest and remembered how God had given them the law at Mount Sinai.
The Day of Pentecost celebrates that the Spirit creates and continues to create, making all things new.
And on this Pentecost the apostles and the people of Jerusalem experienced God in wholly new ways.
In addition to those who thought the apostles were drunk, I expect there were some who were afraid. But in the midst of their misgivings, their wondering and their awe, Peter addressed them all, finding in the words of the prophet Joel a way to describe something bigger than what their imaginations or experiences could grasp: to name the ways God promises were being fulfilled in them on that day. They were glimpsing God’s own Spirit among them.
As we celebrate confirmation with Ruth Anne and Caleb,
may we be alert for the ways that the Holy Spirit shows up in our lives, surprising us, leading us and renewing us.
May we always return to the Word and faith we are given to make sense of what we are seeing and hearing.
May we have confidence in God’s goodness in our lives and be relieved of fear.
Thanks be to God.
[i] Martin Luther. Small Catechism.
Sunday, June 2, 2019
Ascension of our Lord
Luke 24: 44-53
A few years ago, as part of the Book of Faith or Engage the Bible initiative, the synod announced a biblical storytelling contest for the youth of our congregations. The kids choose the story they want to tell, decide their props and costumes and create a video to tell the story. In February when the youth are all together for LYO they vote on the videos, and then at the annual synod assembly – which just happened on Friday and Saturday in Greensboro – everyone gets the chance to see the winning videos.
This year, one group was telling the story of Elijah and the worshipers of Baal that we hear in First Kings Chapter 18. If you don’t know the story, the prophet Elijah meets up with the 450 prophets of Baal, a foreign God, different from the God of Israel, and he challenges the people of Israel to pit him against the other prophets in a contest. Each of them lays a bull on an altar, calls on the name of God and waits for God to answer in fire. They agree that the first prophet whose altar is consumed by fire is the prophet of the true God.
The story sounds strange enough to our ears hearing it in worship on a Sunday morning, but imagine being a neighbor or someone driving by Macedonia Lutheran Church in Burlington and seeing a half-dozen youth out in the church yard, dressed in flowing robes and dancing, or limping, as the Scripture says, around a centerpiece that looks like an altar. Then another robed person, who is the character of Elijah, comes out and builds a second altar and suddenly it erupts in fire!
It couldn’t have been something they see every day.
I wonder what they thought was happening.
Today we are celebrating the Ascension of our Lord, which is always forty days after the Resurrection on Easter morning. On this feast day, Luke tells us that Jesus bodily leaves the disciples and is carried to heaven. (Luke 24:51) and then in the reading from the Acts of the Apostles, Luke gives another account of what the disciples experienced when Jesus was lifted up. (Acts 1:10)
There Luke tells us that, as Jesus was going, the apostles were gazing up toward heaven and two men in white robes appeared and questioned them, asking,
I wonder what they thought was happening.
Were they just pausing to catch their breath and puzzle out what God was doing in their midst?
Or perhaps, did they know they had seen God, and now they were waiting expectantly for God’s return?
Or were they afraid to move because they might miss a holy encounter?
Like the disciples who traveled with Jesus, we too are witnesses of all that God is doing. We have heard the stories of what God has done, and what God promises. We have received the bread and wine given for us and we remember God’s gifts of new life and forgiveness.
And yet, how often do we also stand still in our lives?
Unsure of God’s grace. Uncertain of what’s next. Unconvinced that God will fulfill God’s promises for us.
Gazing wistfully to the heavens for help to arrive, or back at the comfort of the past.
The stories of the Ascension call us to bring our gaze back to the present, to the people in our neighborhood and community who need our help and care here and now![i] We must remember that as the body of Christ on earth, we are the living witnesses, kept in faith by the Holy Spirit and sent out to the ends of the earth (Acts 1:8).
But we don’t have to know all of the answers to all of the questions to be faithful witnesses. It is ok that sometimes our experiences of God are overwhelming or hard to explain. It is ok when our faith practices – whether it’s praying at meals in public places, crossing ourselves in the name of the Father, ☩ Son and Holy Spirit or video-recording a Bible story – make people stare and wonder. Perhaps their curiosity will be stirred and they will ask about this Jesus whom we know.
And, it’s ok when we make mistakes. One of my favorite quotes from this year’s assembly came from the ELCA’s Director for Congregational Vitality, the Reverend Rubén Duran, who said, “Don’t just make the same old mistakes. Let’s make new mistakes together. Let’s risk a little!”
God guides us and provides abundant grace for each one of us and there is nothing we can do to separate ourselves from that love.
And last but not least, we are not alone. Our witness is stronger together. When we build relationships with each other and listen to each other’s stories we discover new ways that God is working all around us. One of the joys of synod assembly is hearing from different ministries and leaders about the work that is happening in congregations all across North Carolina. This year that included the story of a child whose family is homeless who went to summer camp for the first time, two congregations who have yoked and are sharing ministry, a Sudanese teenager who serves on the LYO board and stories of rebuilding and hope from the congregations in the eastern counties that were affected by Hurricane Florence last year.
We cannot always see where God is or what is happening, or make sense of it, but we can have confidence in God’s promises and refuse to be afraid of what we don’t know or whether we can follow well.
Saint Teresa of Avila was a Spanish noblewoman with Jewish roots who lived in the 16th century.[ii] A Carmelite nun and a mystic, she wrote the following words that I believe are an Ascension Day commission for us and for all who follow Jesus:
Holy God,
We give you thanks for Your Son Jesus who lived and died here on earth, showing us what it means to love you and the world.
In his absence, keep us in faith and forgive us when we stand still, when we are disoriented or confused, or we are afraid. Give us courage and confidence in Your promises that we would be lively witnesses to Your grace and the world would know your abundant love.
We pray in the name of Jesus, our Lord and Savior.
Amen.
[i] “Overview.” Sundays and Seasons Day Resources.
[ii] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Teresa_of_%C3%81vila
A few years ago, as part of the Book of Faith or Engage the Bible initiative, the synod announced a biblical storytelling contest for the youth of our congregations. The kids choose the story they want to tell, decide their props and costumes and create a video to tell the story. In February when the youth are all together for LYO they vote on the videos, and then at the annual synod assembly – which just happened on Friday and Saturday in Greensboro – everyone gets the chance to see the winning videos.
This year, one group was telling the story of Elijah and the worshipers of Baal that we hear in First Kings Chapter 18. If you don’t know the story, the prophet Elijah meets up with the 450 prophets of Baal, a foreign God, different from the God of Israel, and he challenges the people of Israel to pit him against the other prophets in a contest. Each of them lays a bull on an altar, calls on the name of God and waits for God to answer in fire. They agree that the first prophet whose altar is consumed by fire is the prophet of the true God.
The story sounds strange enough to our ears hearing it in worship on a Sunday morning, but imagine being a neighbor or someone driving by Macedonia Lutheran Church in Burlington and seeing a half-dozen youth out in the church yard, dressed in flowing robes and dancing, or limping, as the Scripture says, around a centerpiece that looks like an altar. Then another robed person, who is the character of Elijah, comes out and builds a second altar and suddenly it erupts in fire!
It couldn’t have been something they see every day.
I wonder what they thought was happening.
Today we are celebrating the Ascension of our Lord, which is always forty days after the Resurrection on Easter morning. On this feast day, Luke tells us that Jesus bodily leaves the disciples and is carried to heaven. (Luke 24:51) and then in the reading from the Acts of the Apostles, Luke gives another account of what the disciples experienced when Jesus was lifted up. (Acts 1:10)
There Luke tells us that, as Jesus was going, the apostles were gazing up toward heaven and two men in white robes appeared and questioned them, asking,
“Why do you stand looking up toward heaven?” (Acts 1:11)It couldn’t have been something they saw every day.
I wonder what they thought was happening.
Were they just pausing to catch their breath and puzzle out what God was doing in their midst?
Or perhaps, did they know they had seen God, and now they were waiting expectantly for God’s return?
Or were they afraid to move because they might miss a holy encounter?
Like the disciples who traveled with Jesus, we too are witnesses of all that God is doing. We have heard the stories of what God has done, and what God promises. We have received the bread and wine given for us and we remember God’s gifts of new life and forgiveness.
And yet, how often do we also stand still in our lives?
Unsure of God’s grace. Uncertain of what’s next. Unconvinced that God will fulfill God’s promises for us.
Gazing wistfully to the heavens for help to arrive, or back at the comfort of the past.
The stories of the Ascension call us to bring our gaze back to the present, to the people in our neighborhood and community who need our help and care here and now![i] We must remember that as the body of Christ on earth, we are the living witnesses, kept in faith by the Holy Spirit and sent out to the ends of the earth (Acts 1:8).
But we don’t have to know all of the answers to all of the questions to be faithful witnesses. It is ok that sometimes our experiences of God are overwhelming or hard to explain. It is ok when our faith practices – whether it’s praying at meals in public places, crossing ourselves in the name of the Father, ☩ Son and Holy Spirit or video-recording a Bible story – make people stare and wonder. Perhaps their curiosity will be stirred and they will ask about this Jesus whom we know.
And, it’s ok when we make mistakes. One of my favorite quotes from this year’s assembly came from the ELCA’s Director for Congregational Vitality, the Reverend Rubén Duran, who said, “Don’t just make the same old mistakes. Let’s make new mistakes together. Let’s risk a little!”
God guides us and provides abundant grace for each one of us and there is nothing we can do to separate ourselves from that love.
And last but not least, we are not alone. Our witness is stronger together. When we build relationships with each other and listen to each other’s stories we discover new ways that God is working all around us. One of the joys of synod assembly is hearing from different ministries and leaders about the work that is happening in congregations all across North Carolina. This year that included the story of a child whose family is homeless who went to summer camp for the first time, two congregations who have yoked and are sharing ministry, a Sudanese teenager who serves on the LYO board and stories of rebuilding and hope from the congregations in the eastern counties that were affected by Hurricane Florence last year.
We cannot always see where God is or what is happening, or make sense of it, but we can have confidence in God’s promises and refuse to be afraid of what we don’t know or whether we can follow well.
Saint Teresa of Avila was a Spanish noblewoman with Jewish roots who lived in the 16th century.[ii] A Carmelite nun and a mystic, she wrote the following words that I believe are an Ascension Day commission for us and for all who follow Jesus:
Christ has no body now, but yours.Let us pray…
No hands, no feet on earth, but yours.
Yours are the eyes through which he looks
With compassion on this world.
Holy God,
We give you thanks for Your Son Jesus who lived and died here on earth, showing us what it means to love you and the world.
In his absence, keep us in faith and forgive us when we stand still, when we are disoriented or confused, or we are afraid. Give us courage and confidence in Your promises that we would be lively witnesses to Your grace and the world would know your abundant love.
We pray in the name of Jesus, our Lord and Savior.
Amen.
[i] “Overview.” Sundays and Seasons Day Resources.
[ii] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Teresa_of_%C3%81vila
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