Lent 1C

Lucas 4:1-13

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

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

Mi difunto padre era un admirador del teólogo británico C.S. Lewis. Lewis, conocido popularmente por los libros de Narnia, entre los que se incluyen “El león, la bruja y el armario”, también escribió un libro llamado “Cartas de Screwtape”. “Screwtape” es un personaje que Lewis presenta como un asistente de alto rango de Satanás, y el libro está compuesto por sus cartas a su sobrino “Wormwood” en las que guía al joven demonio e inexperto para que corrompa a un joven que conoce. Es un relato ficticio que muestra cómo Satanás, el adversario de Dios, intenta corromper a los humanos en cada oportunidad posible.

En nuestro evangelio, Lucas dice que durante sus cuarenta días y noches en el desierto, Jesús fue tentado o puesto a prueba por diabolos o “el diablo”. El diablo es un calumniador, un engañador y un mentiroso malicioso.

Ya sea Satanás o uno de sus sirvientes, este personaje emplea un arsenal de trucos para sembrar dudas, incertidumbre, miedo y desconfianza en cada oportunidad disponible.

Los Evangelios nos dicen que la prueba de Jesús tuvieron lugardurante cuarenta días, una descripción que se utiliza en las Escrituras para decirnos que estos eventos sucedieron durante un largo período de tiempo y una señal que nos ayuda a conectar la historia de Jesús en el desierto con la de los peregrinajes de los israelitas en el desierto durante el éxodo, y también con el viaje solitario de Moisés en el desierto del Sinaí antes de recibir los Mandamientos de Dios.

Seguir el llamado de Dios significa soportar tiempos de aislamiento, pruebas y dificultades. Es importante destacar que el Espíritu Santo está guiando y acompañando a Jesús durante todo este tiempo y, como él, no estamos solos para enfrentar pruebas y desafíos.

Si bien las pruebas y tentaciones de Jesús ocurren a lo largo de cuarenta días, Lucas nos habla de las tres pruebas finales que enfrenta y cómo responde a ellas. En cada ocasión, Jesús, un judío practicante y observante delTorá, recurre a su conocimiento de la Biblia hebrea, y en particular del Deuteronomio, y utiliza las Escrituras para rechazar las burlas del diablo, encontrando las palabras para expresar su confianza en Dios y su dependencia de Él para su identidad y su futuro.ⁱ

Si me detuviera allí, todo lo que podríamos escuchar es que necesitamos confiar más, o al menos memorizar más versículos bíblicos, para poder responder con la misma facilidad con la que lo hizo Jesús.

Pero yo no creo que eso sea todo lo que hay que escuchar.

Al final del pasaje, Lucas escribe que el diablo “se alejó de [Jesús] hasta un momento oportuno” (v. 13).

Al igual que los tiempos de aislamiento, pruebas y dificultades, la tentación es parte de nuestra vida como cristianos. En nuestro bautismo, prometemos renunciar al mal, al diablo y a los poderes de este mundo que desafían a Dios, se rebelan contra Él y nos alejan de Él.

Con estas palabras, reconocemos que hay fuerzas que trabajan activamente contra Dios, y que vivir como pueblo de Dios significará vivir en oposición a esos adversarios.

Una de las armas de nuestro arsenal es nuestra confianza en Dios. “La confianza está en el corazón de nuestra relación con Dios... [Pero] la confianza, como cualquier otra cosa, se fortalece con la práctica”ⁱⁱ

Ayer, me presentaron un himno que no conocía. Eso noes una sorpresa, pero me sorprendió saber que su autor enseña en el colegio de Brevard. En el himno “Dios está llamando a través del susurro”, cada verso pregunta si podemos escuchar la voz de Dios en lo que presenciamos a nuestro alrededor.ⁱⁱⁱ Y ayer, mientras leíamos el texto y cantábamos los versos, hablamos sobre las formas en que somos tentados, opuestos a prueba, a alejarnos de Dios.

Por eso, hoy, quiero compartir las palabras con todos ustedes. Mientras leen estas palabras, los invito a reflexionar sobre las formas en que somos tentados a alejarnos de Dios y cómo podemos resistir esas tentaciones.

El primer verso describe los suspiros profundos del Espíritu, la belleza repentina de la tierra y el silencio de la quietud, y me pregunto cómo llenamos nuestro tiempo, espacio y agendas con ruido y actividades apresuradas. ¿Con qué frecuencia me olvido de levantar la vista de lo que demanda mi atención y prestar atención a dónde está Dios obrando? ¿Cuándo he recibido el don de presenciar algo santo y lo he ignorado?

El segundo verso parece más fácil. ¿Acaso no queremos todos responder a los anhelos y oraciones de nuestros prójimos? Pero amar a mi prójimo significa poner el amor en acción. Son los amigos del hombre paralítico quienes cortan un agujero en el techo de la casa para que Jesús pudiera sanarlo (Marcos 2:4) y el buen samaritano quien venda las heridas del hombre herido y paga su alojamiento hasta que se recupere (Lucas 10). No podemos amar a nuestro prójimo desde una distancia “segura”.

Y luego el tercer verso nos invita a encarnar la alegría de la alabanza, a hacer ruido alegre. No es indulgente hacer música, cantar y bailar; las Escrituras están llenas de historias del pueblo de Dios cantando y proclamando con acción de gracias.

Pero en algún momento del camino, la mayoría de nosotros dejamos de hacerlo. Porque alguien dijo que no era bueno ser ruidoso, desordenado o peculiar Y la música, la pintura y el juego no son “productivos”. Pero los cielos pintados con la obra de Dios, las complejidades de nuestros cuerpos humanos y los campos cubiertos de flores silvestres dan testimonio de la obra continua de nuestro Dios creativo.

En cada paso, el diablo puede encontrar una oportunidad para ponernos a prueba, pero nosotros tenemos la oportunidad de notar la presencia de Dios, de habitaren la bondad de Dios, de maravillarnos ante el poder y la majestad de Dios, y de confiar en el amor constante y abundante de Dios por todos nosotros.

No tenemos que tener versículos de memoria o respuestas fáciles cuando somos puestos a prueba, tenemos el amor de Dios, profundamente dentro de nosotros, y el Espíritu de Dios llenándonos.

Así que, en esta Cuaresma, practiquemos juntos y profundicemos nuestra relación con Dios, para que nuestra confianza, que esta en el corazón de esa relación, sea fortalecida.

Amén.

---

[i] David Lose. “Dear Working Preacher.” Luther Seminary. February 10, 2013.

[ii] ibid

[iii] Dr. Mary Louise “Mel” Bringle. “God is Calling Through the Whisper.” GIA Publications, Inc. 2006. https://hymnary.org/text/god_is_calling_through_the_whisper

Luke 4:1-13

My late father was an admirer of the British theologian C.S. Lewis. Lewis who is popularly known for the Narnia books that include “The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe”, also wrote a book called “Screwtape Letters”. “Screwtape” is a character that Lewis portrays as a highly placed assistant to Satan, and the book is composed of his letters to his nephew “Wormwood” as he directs the younger inexperienced demon to corrupt a young man he knows. It’s a fictional account that shows how Satan, an adversary of God, attempts to corrupt humans at every available opportunity.

In our gospel, Luke says that during his forty wilderness days and nights, Jesus was tempted, or tested, by diabolos or “the devil”.  The devil is a slanderer, a deceiver and a malicious liar. Whether Satan or one of Satan’s minions, this character employs an arsenal of tricks to sow doubt, uncertainty, fear and mistrust at every available opportunity.

The Gospels tell us that Jesus’ testing takes place over forty days – a description used in Scripture to tell us these events happened over a long period of time, and a signpost that helps us connect Jesus’ wilderness story with that of the Israelites’ wilderness wanderings during the exodus, and also with Moses’ isolated journey in the Sinai wilderness before he received the Commandments from God.

Following God’s call means enduring times of isolation, testing, and hardship. Importantly, the Holy Spirit is leading and accompanying Jesus throughout this time, and like him, we are not left alone to face trials and challenges.

While Jesus’ testing and temptations happen throughout the forty days, Luke tells us about the final three tests that he faces and how he responds to them. Each time, Jesus, a practicing and Torah-observant Jew, draws on his knowledge of the Hebrew Bible, and particularly of Deuteronomy, and he uses Scripture to rebuff the devil’s taunts, finding the words to give voice to his trust in – and dependence on - God for his identity and his future.[i]

If I stopped there, all we might hear is how we need to trust more, or at least have more Bible verses memorized, so we could answer as glibly as Jesus did.

But I don’t think that’s all there is to hear.

At the end of the passage, Luke writes that the devil “departed from [Jesus] until an opportune time.” (v. 13)

Like times of isolation, testing and hardship, temptation is part of our lives as Christians. At our baptism, we promise to renounce evil, the devil, and the powers of this world that defy God, rebel against God and draw us away from God.

With these words, we acknowledge that there are forces actively working against God, and that living as God’s people will mean living in opposition to those adversaries.

One of the weapons in our arsenal is our trust in God. “Trust is at the heart of our relationship with God... [But] trust, like anything else, is strengthened through practice.” [ii]

Yesterday, I was introduced to a hymn I didn’t know. That’s not a surprise, but I was surprised to learn that its author teaches at Brevard College. In the hymn “God is Calling Through the Whisper” each verse asks if we can hear God’s voice in what we witness around us.[iii] And yesterday, as we read the text and sang the verses, we talked about the ways that we are tempted, or tested, to turn away from God.

So today, I want to share the words with all of you. As you read the words, I invite you to reflect on the ways in which we are tempted to turn away from God, and how we might resist those temptations.

The first verse describes the Spirit’s deep sighs, the earth’s sudden beauty and the hush of stillness, and I wonder how we fill up our time, space and schedules with noise and busy-ness. How often do I forget to look up from whatever is demanding my attention, and pay attention to where God is at work? When have I been given the gift of witnessing something holy and ignored it?

The second verse seems easier. Don’t we all want to respond to the longings and prayers of our neighbors? But loving my neighbor means putting love into action. It is the friends of the paralyzed man cutting a hole in the roof of the house so Jesus could heal him (Mark 2:4) and the good Samaritan bandaging the wounds of the injured man and paying for his lodging until he was well. (Luke 10) We cannot love our neighbors from a “safe” distance.

And then the third verse invites us to embody the joy of praise, to make a joyful noise. It is not indulgent to make music, to sing and to dance; Scripture is full of stories of God’s people singing and shouting with thanksgiving. But somewhere along the way, we mostly stopped. Because someone said it wasn’t good to be noisy or messy or whimsical. And music and painting and play aren’t “productive”. But skies painted with God’s handiwork, the intricacies of our human bodies, and fields that are blankets of wildflowers all testify to the ongoing work of our creative God.

At each turn, the devil may find an opportunity to test us, but we have an opportunity to notice God’s presence, to dwell in God’s goodness, to wonder at God’s power and majesty, and to trust in God’s steadfast and abundant love for us all.

We don’t have to have memory verses or glib answers when we are tested, we have God’s love, deep within us, and God’s Spirit filling us.

So this Lent, let’s practice together and deepen our relationship with God, that our trust, at the heart of that relationship will be strengthened.

Amen.

---

[i] David Lose. “Dear Working Preacher.” Luther Seminary. February 10, 2013.

[ii] ibid

[iii] Dr. Mary Louise “Mel” Bringle. “God is Calling Through the Whisper.” GIA Publications, Inc. 2006. https://hymnary.org/text/god_is_calling_through_the_whisper

" I is for Israel" The Good Book Summer Series

Genesis 32:24-28 (NRSV)

and in the Message 

This morning, we heard the second of four stories from the Old Testament as we explore some of the stories of our ancestors in faith.

Today’s text is from Genesis, the very first book of the Bible, and it’s a story about Jacob.

A few chapters earlier in Genesis, we meet Jacob and his twin brother Esau at their birth.

I wonder if you had a nickname in your family? Or if you gave one to your brothers or sisters?

When Esau arrived first, he was given a name that reflects his red and hairy appearance, but Jacob was born holding onto his brother’s heel so his name means “heel sneak” or “usurper” which refers to someone who takes what is yours and claims it as their own.

The boys’ parents were Rebeka and Isaac, the son of Abraham and Sarah. And while most parents say they don’t have favorites, the biblical text says that Isaac favored Esau and Rebeka favored Jacob. It also tells us about an encounter between the brothers when a very hungry Esau gave his birthright – or share of his inheritance – to Jacob in exchange for a bowl of hearty stew. (Genesis 25)

But it was when Isaac was very old, and his eyesight was failing, that Jacob truly lived into his name.

When Esau leaves to go hunting, with their mother Rebekah’s help, Jacob tricks Isaac into giving him his blessing before he dies. When Esau learns how Jacob has deceived him and their father, he’s angry and their mother warns Jacob to flee to her brother’s home.

Today’s story takes place more than twenty years later as Jacob is going home and preparing to meet his brother Esau.

If you have been unhappily separated from a family member, you can imagine the uncertainty and anxiety Jacob was experiencing. He was afraid. He didn’t know anything about his brother’s character. He didn’t know whether Esau’s anger had been simmering for two decades, or whether he had forgiven him.

So, he sends his family and servants ahead with gifts for his brother, and he camps alone for the night by the river Jabbok.

And as our text told us, there he wrestled all night long with another man.

Jacob was a fighter. He had fought with his brother to be born and came in second; he fought with him again, stealing their father’s blessing. So, when this stranger found him, alone in the night, Jacob did what he knew how to do – he fought.

Today, wrestling matches are six minutes long. Jacob and his opponent wrestled all night long, hours upon hours without surrendering. Imagine the exhaustion and frustration that they felt.

Our text says that when the man saw that Jacob would not yield, he touched his hip, dislocating it. But even then, Jacob did not let go of his opponent.

Instead, Jacob demanded a blessing.  And incredibly, instead of turning away from Jacob or punishing him for the deceits he had practiced during his lifetime, the man gave him a new name, saying “You shall no longer be called Jacob, but Israel, for you have striven with God and with humans, and have prevailed." (Genesis 32:28) and before he left Jacob, he blessed him.

The author of Genesis could have had Jacob emerge from the story more decidedly victorious, but he doesn’t. Instead, we see how Jacob wrestled with God, not against Him. He hung in there all night, refusing to be cast aside. And he came away changed. He walks with a limp. He has a new identity, no longer a “heel sneak” but a “God-fighter” or “one who strives with God” as his new name can be translated.

Now we know the story better,

what can we learn from Jacob’s stubborn and determined wrestling?

Dr. Anna Carter Florence is the author of “A is for Alabaster”, the resource we’re using for this series, and one question she asked as she talked about the chapter titled “I is for Israel”, is,

“How do things change?” from decade to decade in our lives. How different are the things with which we wrestle or for which we strive when we are 20, 30, 40 or 60?  

I don’t want us to answer too glibly or dismiss what our younger selves sought. I hope the question helps us reflect on which things endure, which ones are central to our identity as God-fighters (and followers), and which ones may be part of our own hubris or arrogance.

Because I think we are all a little like Jacob at some point in our lives:

wanting what someone else has;

unable to recognize the sufficiency of what God has already provided; and,

being afraid to face the consequences of our mistakes and the ways we hurt others.

The Good News we have from Jacob’s story is that God’s grace is sufficient, in fact, abundant. And in the face of our all-too-human responses to the world around us, God still loves us, and names us, “God’s child now and forever.”

One of the professors at Luther Seminary Dr. Rolf Jacobson, noting that Jacob was buried in the same place as his grandfather Abraham, wrote,

We don’t know if they wrote anything on his tombstone, but if it were…, it would have said, “Here lies Jacob, a thief and a sinner claimed by God in order that God might bless the entire world.”[i]

Let us pray.

Good and gracious God,

Thank you for wrestling with us and not against us.

Help us recognize you when we encounter you,

And remember the blessing we already have by your grace,

That you call every one of us “God’s child now and forever.”

Amen. 

---

[i] Crazy Book. Rolf Jacobson, Editor. 132.

Lectionary 21A (Decimotercero domingo después de Pentecostés)

Mateo 16:13-20

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

Oremos…

Que las palabras de mi boca y las meditaciones de nuestro corazón sean gratas a tus ojos, Señor, nuestra fortaleza y nuestro redentor. Amén.

Me gusta la pregunta que hace Jesús. Pregunta a sus discípulos: "¿Quién dicen los hombres que es el Hijo del Hombre?" Y luego pregunta: “Y vosotros ¿Quién decís que soy yo?”

Has oído esta historia. Mateo, Marcos y Lucas lo incluyen en sus evangelios.

Simón Pedro –el mismo hombre que vimos hundirse en el agua, el mismo que sabemos que negará a Jesús tres veces en su arresto– confiesa que Jesús es el Mesías, el ungido.

Escuchando a Pedro, me pregunto cómo responderíamos a Jesús. Creo que es una pregunta devocional interesante, que podemos plantearnos durante momentos de meditación y reflexión.

Pero también creo que la pregunta es una distracción.

Porque, como señaló irónicamente un colega, no importaba si Pedro respondía bien o no. Nuestra opinión no cambia quién es Jesús. La identidad de Jesús se encuentra en quién Dios dice que es.

En el evangelio de Mateo, Jesús responde a la confesión de Simón Pedro, alabándolo y diciéndole que él será la roca sobre la cual se edificará la iglesia.

Pero Lucas y Marcos sólo registran la severa advertencia y el mandato de Jesús a los discípulos de no contarle a nadie acerca de él.

Nunca aprendemos por qué Jesús alentó en ocasiones la discreción o incluso el secreto por parte de sus seguidores. Cuando cura al leproso (Mateo 8, Marcos 1, Lucas 5) les dice que no se lo diga a nadie excepto al sacerdote. Y nuevamente, después del evento de la transfiguración (Mateo 17, Marcos 9, Lucas 9), advierte a sus discípulos que no le hablen a nadie sobre el Mesías.

Los acontecimientos del evangelio de hoy tuvieron lugar en Cesárea de Filipo, una ciudad grecorromana donde había un santuario dedicado a Pan, que era el dios griego de los pastores y los rebaños. Me imagino las escenas de algunas de las películas ambientadas en el mundo antiguo y puedo imaginar el ruido y el caos de la escena.

Entonces, tal vez Jesús no quería provocar a los líderes religiosos o políticos todavía, o tal vez sabía la violencia que enfrentarían más tarde y estaba tratando de proteger a sus seguidores hasta que estuvieran mejor equipados para liderar a otros y enfrentar la oposición.

En cualquier caso, la confesión de Pedro es un punto muy importante. De ahora en adelante Jesús será más directo en sus explicaciones del sufrimiento y la muerte que le espera como Mesías.

Por hoy, creo que lo que importa es nuestra comprensión de lo que significa decir en voz alta que Jesús es el Mesías, el Hijo de Dios.

Jesús no sólo fue un buen rabino o maestro.

No fue uno de los profetas antiguos, como Elías o Jeremías, que confrontaron al pueblo con su infidelidad.

Y no fue Juan el Bautista quien llamó al pueblo al arrepentimiento.

Cuando proclamamos a Jesús como el Mesías, el ungido, proclamamos que él es el enviado de Dios para nuestro bien.

Cuando llamamos a Jesús Mesías, lo nombramos como quien revela el amor de Dios por todos nosotros.

Y, cuando llamamos a Jesús Mesías, también estamos nombrando nuestra dependencia de él, para la salvación y para la vida.

Y si eso es lo que significa llamar a Jesús Mesías, también significa que no estamos buscando esas cosas en alguien o en algo más. Significa que no escuchamos cuando voces en competencia intentan captar nuestra atención y lealtad, y los poderes de nuestro mundo intentan decirnos que no necesitamos a Jesús ni la fe.

Hace unos años participé en un grupo de personas que pasaban tiempo juntas en oración y silencio. y una de mis prácticas favorita era que nos pedian que dejáramos nuestros títulos en la puerta. En ese espacio no importaba saber quién era pastor, maestro, músico o quién tenía un doctorado. Fue un recordatorio regular de que nuestra identidad no se encuentra en nuestros logros, nuestro trabajo o incluso nuestras familias. Nuestra identidad proviene de lo que Dios dice que somos: hijos amados, amados y perdonados.

Gracias a Dios.

Matthew 16:13-20

I like the question Jesus asks. He asks his disciples, “Who do people say that I am?” And then he asks, “Who do you say that I am?”

You have heard this story. Matthew, Mark and Luke, all include it in their gospels.

Simon Peter – the same man who we watched sink into the water, the same one who we know will deny Jesus three times at his arrest – confesses Jesus is the Messiah, the anointed one. 

Listening to Peter, I wonder how we would answer Jesus. I think it’s an interesting devotional question, one we can ask ourselves during times of meditation and reflection.

But I also think that the question is a distraction.

Because as one colleague wryly noted, it didn’t matter whether Peter answered well or not. Our opinion doesn’t change who Jesus is. Jesus’ identity is found in who God says he is.

In Matthew’s gospel, Jesus responds to Simon Peter’s confession, praising him and telling him that he will be the rock on which the church will be built. 

But Luke and Mark only record Jesus’ stern warning and command to the disciples not to tell anyone about him.

We never learn why Jesus encouraged discretion or even secrecy from his followers at times. When he heals the leper (Matt. 8, Mark 1, Luke 5) he tells him not to tell anyone except the priest. And again, after the event of the transfiguration (Matt. 17, Mark 9, Luke 9), he warns his disciples not to tell anyone about the Messiah.

The events of today’s gospel took place in Caesarea Philippi, a Greco-Roman city where there was a shrine dedicated to Pan who was the Greek god of the shepherds and flocks.  I imagine the scenes from some of the movies that have been set in the ancient world and can picture the noise and chaos of the scene.

So perhaps Jesus didn’t want to provoke the religious or political leaders just yet, or perhaps he knew the violence they would face later and he was trying to protect his followers until they were better equipped to lead others and face opposition.

In any case, Peter’s confession is a turning point. From now on Jesus will become more direct in his explanations of the suffering and death that awaits him as the Messiah.

For today, I think what matters is our understanding of what it means to say aloud that Jesus is Messiah, Son of God.

Jesus was not only a good rabbi or teacher.

He was not one of the ancient prophets, like Elijah or Jeremiah, who confronted the people with their faithlessness.

And he was not John the Baptist, who called people to repentance.

When we proclaim Jesus as Messiah, the anointed one, we proclaim he is the One sent by God for our sake.

When we call Jesus Messiah, we are naming Him as the one who reveals God’s love for us all.

And, when we call Jesus Messiah, we are also naming our dependence upon him, for salvation and for life.

And if that is what it means to call Jesus Messiah, it also means we are not looking for those things in someone or something else. It means we don’t listen when competing voices try to capture our attention and loyalty, and powers in our world try to tell us we don’t need Jesus or faith.

A few years ago I participated in a group of folks who spent time together in centering prayer and silence. And one of my favorite practices was that we were asked to leave our titles at the door. In that space, it wasn’t important to know who was a pastor, a teacher, a musician, or who had a doctoral degree. It was a regular reminder that our identity is not found in our achievements, our work, or even our families. Our identity comes from who God says we are – beloved children, loved and forgiven.

Thanks be to God.

Lent 4A

Juan 9:1-41

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

Oremos…

Sean gratos los dichos de mi boca y las meditaciónes de nuestros corazónes delante de ti, oh Jehovah, Roca mía y Redentor mío. Amén. (Psalm 19:14 RVA)

Mi mamá me dice que cuando era niña, pintaba con los dedos con pinceles. No me gustaba ser desordenada, así que creo que nunca hice pasteles de lodo, pero ¿no es eso lo que hace Jesús en el evangelio de hoy?
 
Un poco de lodo, un poco de saliva, y pone la mezcla en los ojos de un ciego de nacimiento.
Un hombre que nunca había visto un amanecer o un atardecer, una flor florecer
o los rostros de las personas que amaba.
 
Y luego, el hombre sigue las instrucciones de Jesús: se lava y puede ver.
 
Hace un par de años, comencé a jugar con barro, aprendiendo a tirar barro a mano en una rueda de cerámica. Los alfareros dicen que el barro sabe qué forma va a tomar. Realmente no puedes
obligarlo a ser algo que no es.
 
Trabajas con él y observas cómo se transforma el barro y se revela la forma.
 
Cuando Juan nos cuenta cómo Jesús puso un poco de lodo y saliva en los ojos del hombre, escuchamos ecos de la historia de la creación donde Dios recogió la tierra y formó a la primera persona viva, Adán, y le soplo vida. (Génesis 2:7)
 
La tierra, el lodo o el barro se convierte en el medio creativo para nuestro Dios Creador y luego para nuestro Redentor Jesús.
 
Pero los vecinos del hombre, los líderes religiosos e incluso sus padres están confundidos, enojados e incluso asustados por el cambio en el hombre.
 
Tenían una forma de verlo a él y al mundo, y ahora ha habido un cambio.
 
Primero hay un grupo de personas, incluidos los discípulos de Jesús, que vieron al hombre y creyeron que su ceguera era un castigo por el pecado de alguien.
Quieren saber quién tiene la culpa, señalar con el dedo y encontrar fallas.  Y en una sociedad construida sobre el honor y la vergüenza, los regalos gratuitos de misericordia, perdón y sanación no son buenas noticias; son una tontería. (1 Corintios 1:18)
 
Otro grupo de personas solo lo conocían como un mendigo y ahora no están seguros si es la misma persona o un extraño. No entienden cómo puede ver, y no saben cómo responderle ahora. Probablemente no sabían su nombre. Tal vez lo habían visto en la calle y compartieron con él una migaja de pan o un trago de agua. Tal vez habían cruzado la calle para evitarlo. Pero como mendigo, sabían a dónde pertenecía, y no era con ellos.
 
Pero ahora, no puede ser rechazado porque es un pecador, y no puede ser ignorado porque es pobre, y la gente se enoja y hasta tiene miedo. En lugar de regocijarse de que el hombre haya sido sanado o celebrar con él,
 
Juan nos dice que insultan al hombre y lo echan fuera, descartando lo que les dice sobre quién es Jesús y lo que ha hecho.
 
Su visión del mundo ha sido interrumpida y solo quieren que las cosas vuelvan a ser como antes.
 
Afortunadamente, sus objeciones y quejas no detienen a Dios y la historia no termina ahí.
 
Cuando sus vecinos e incluso sus padres se resisten a abrazarlo y aceptarlo, Jesús vuelve a encontrar al hombre. Cuando los demás no pueden dejar de definirlo por su pasado, Jesús lo encuentra. Jesús siempre ha visto al hombre como una persona íntegra, creada y amada por Dios. La curación del hombre es una ventaja: Jesús lo llamó "alguien a través de quien las obras de Dios podrían revelarse en él", incluso antes de que recobrara la vista. (Juan 9:3)
 
Me acuerdo de las palabras del Salmo ciento treinta y nueve (139) que dicen:
 
Porque fuiste tú quien formaste mis entrañas;
me formaste en el vientre de mi madre.
Te alabo, porque asombrosa y maravillosamente he sido hecho.
Maravillosas son tus obras; (139:13-14)
 
Jesús sabía quién era el hombre y de quién era, desde el principio.
 
Y ahora, al confesando su fe en Cristo y adorandolo, el hombre entra en una nueva relación con Cristo y encuentra su identidad y pertenencia en El.
 
No conocemos el resto de la historia. Solo podemos adivinar si los vecinos del hombre reconsideraron o llegaron a creer.
 
Pero podemos unirnos al hombre para vernos a nosotros mismos a través de los ojos de Dios. Podemos saber que cuando el mundo no muestra compasión, Dios ve nuestras necesidades y nos busca para que sepamos cuánto nos ama Dios. Y podemos contarles a otros cómo el amor de Dios nos ha cambiado.
 
Oremos…
Dios bueno y misericordioso,
Damos gracias por tu Hijo Jesús que nos busca y nos encuentra.
Que podamos vernos a nosotros mismos y a todos los que conocemos a través de tus ojos.
Ayúdanos a cuidarnos unos a otros y a celebrar la plenitud de tu amor por el mundo.
Oramos en el nombre de Jesús.
Amén.

John 9:1-41

My mom tells me that when I was a little girl, I finger painted with brushes. I didn’t like to be messy, so I don’t think I ever made mud pies, but isn’t that what Jesus does in today’s gospel?

A little mud, a little spittle, and he puts the mixture on the eyes of a man who was born blind.

A man who had never seen a sunrise or sunset, a flower blossom

or the faces of people he loved.

And then, the man follows Jesus’ instructions - he washes and he can see.

A couple of years ago, I did begin to play with clay, learning how to hand throw pottery on a wheel. Potters say that clay knows what form it’s going to take. You really can’t force it to be something that it isn’t. You work with it, and you watch as the clay is transformed, and the shape is revealed.

When John tells us how Jesus put some mud and spittle on the man’s eyes, we hear echoes of the creation story where God scooped up the dirt and formed the first living person, °¹d¹m, and breathed life into him. (Genesis 2:7 NRS)

The dirt, clay or mud becomes the creative medium for our Creator God and then for our Redeemer Jesus.

But the man’s neighbors, the religious leaders and even his parents are confused, angry and even frightened by the change in the man. They had a way of looking at him, and the world, and now there’s been a change.

First there’s a group of people, including Jesus’ disciples, who saw the man and believed that his blindness was punishment for someone’s sin. They want to know who is to blame, to point a finger and find fault. And in a society built on honor and shame, the free gifts of mercy, forgiveness and healing aren’t good news; they are foolishness. (1 Corinthians 1:18 NRS)

Another group of people only knew him as a beggar and now they aren’t sure whether he’s the same person, or a stranger. They don’t understand how he can see, and they don’t know how to respond to him now. They probably didn’t know his name. Maybe they had seen him on the street and shared a crust of bread or a drink of water with him. Maybe they had crossed the street to avoid him. But as a beggar, they knew where he belonged, and it wasn’t with them.

But now, he cannot be rejected because he is a sinner, and he cannot be ignored because he is poor, and the people get angry and even afraid. Instead of rejoicing that the man has been healed and or celebrating with him, John tells us that they revile the man and throw him out, dismissing what he tells them about who Jesus is and what he had done.

Their view of the world has been disrupted and they just want things to go back to the way they were.

Thankfully, their objections and complaints don’t stop God and the story doesn’t end there.

When his neighbors and even his parents are reluctant to embrace and accept him, Jesus finds the man again. When others cannot stop defining him by his past, Jesus finds him. Jesus has always seen the man as a whole person, created and loved by God. The man’s healing is a bonus – Jesus called him “one through whom God’s works might be revealed in him”, even before he gained his sight. (John 9:3)

I am reminded of the words from Psalm 139 that say,

For it was you who formed my inward parts;

you knit me together in my mother's womb.

I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made.

Wonderful are your works; (139:13-14)

Jesus knew who the man was, and whose he was, from the beginning.

And now, confessing his belief in Christ and worshiping him, the man enters into a new relationship with Christ and finds his identity and belonging in Him.

We don’t know the rest of the story. We can only guess whether the man’s neighbors reconsidered or came to believe.

But we can join the man in seeing ourselves through God’s eyesWe can know that when the world fails to show compassion, God sees our needs and seeks us out so that we will know much we are loved by God. And we can tell others how God’s love has changed us.

Let us pray…

Good and gracious God, 
We give thanks for your Son Jesus who seeks us and finds us.
May we see ourselves and everyone we meet through your eyes.
Help us care for one another and celebrate the fullness of your love for the world.
We pray in Jesus’ name.
Amen.

Midweek Lent Reflection - Seeking (Week 1)

Ruth 1:1-18

Throughout Lent we are reflecting on what it means to be God-seeking people and asking honest questions to deepen our faith and understanding.

As we thought about these midweek services, we decided to do two things – first, it’s always wise to return to God’s Word, so Pastor Jonathan and I are taking turns looking at God-seeking people who we meet there in Scripture. Second, we always want to remember that we are created for relationship, and one of the ways we build relationship with each other is to listen to our stories, so we are going to take turns telling our own stories of seeking God. And finally, in our last week together, we’re going to invite you to have conversation together and share your own stories of seeking God.

Tonight, we’re going to meet Ruth. And we’ll begin with a reading from the Book of Ruth:

1 In the days when the judges ruled, there was a famine in the land, and a certain man of Bethlehem in Judah went to live in the country of Moab, he and his wife and two sons. 2 The name of the man was Elimelech and the name of his wife Naomi, and the names of his two sons were Mahlon and Chilion; they were Ephrathites from Bethlehem in Judah. They went into the country of Moab and remained there. 3 But Elimelech, the husband of Naomi, died, and she was left with her two sons. 4 These took Moabite wives; the name of the one was Orpah and the name of the other Ruth. When they had lived there about ten years, 5 both Mahlon and Chilion also died, so that the woman was left without her two sons and her husband.

6 Then she started to return with her daughters-in-law from the country of Moab, for she had heard in the country of Moab that the Lord had considered his people and given them food. 7 So she set out from the place where she had been living, she and her two daughters-in-law, and they went on their way to go back to the land of Judah. 8 But Naomi said to her two daughters-in-law, “Go back each of you to your mother’s house. May the Lord deal kindly with you, as you have dealt with the dead and with me. 9 The Lord grant that you may find security, each of you in the house of your husband.” Then she kissed them, and they wept aloud. 10 They said to her, “No, we will return with you to your people.” 11 But Naomi said, “Turn back, my daughters, why will you go with me? Do I still have sons in my womb that they may become your husbands? 12 Turn back, my daughters, go your way, for I am too old to have a husband. Even if I thought there was hope for me, even if I should have a husband tonight and bear sons, 13 would you then wait until they were grown? Would you then refrain from marrying? No, my daughters, it has been far more bitter for me than for you, because the hand of the Lord has turned against me.” 14 Then they wept aloud again. Orpah kissed her mother-in-law, but Ruth clung to her.

15 So she said, “See, your sister-in-law has gone back to her people and to her gods; return after your sister-in-law.” 16 But Ruth said,

“Do not press me to leave you
or to turn back from following you!
Where you go, I will go;
where you lodge, I will lodge;
your people shall be my people,
and your God my God.
17 Where you die, I will die—
there will I be buried.
May the Lord do thus and so to me,
and more as well,
if even death parts me from you!”

18 When Naomi saw that she was determined to go with her, she said no more to her.

Word of God, Word of Life. Thanks be to God.

So, what do you know already about Ruth? (accept answers from the congregation)

She was a woman.

She wasn’t an Israelite; she was a Moabite – from Moab, a region across the Dead Sea to the east of Bethlehem and Judah. So, she was a foreigner and even an enemy of Israel.

She didn’t worship the God of Israel. She worshiped a tribal god named Chemosh (Kamōš).

Naomi’s husband took her and their sons to Moab because there was a famine in Israel. The sons married Moabite women. One was Ruth and another was named Orpah. But after ten years the sons also died. So Ruth was a widow. And at that time, she was childless, too.

But she’s one of the five women named in the genealogy or family tree of Jesus that Matthew includes in his gospel. Ruth becomes the great-grandmother of King David.

Tonight, we heard the first part of her story.

Of the famine.

Of her becoming a widow.

And of her decision to leave her homeland, to leave her god, and to follow her Israelite mother-in-law into a strange land.

These verses also tell the story of Ruth’s confession:

Where you go, I will go;
Where you lodge, I will lodge;
your people shall be my people, and your God my God.
One of the questions we are asking this season is, “Who will you listen to?”

The Benedictine author Joan Chittister (chi·tuh·str) writing about Ruth, Orpha and Naomi describes Ruth as one who “seek[s] God beyond the boundaries of the past.”[i] She did not listen only to voices of tradition and culture, but she listened to God who is a “God of becomings” – a God of possibility.

As I reflected on Ruth’s story, I thought of another young woman from the Middle East who sought a life unbounded by the past – Malala Yusafzai (yoo·suhf·zai). Malala was born in Pakistan in the part of what would have been known as the Persian empire in the ancient world.

Malala’s father was a schoolteacher who wanted his daughter to have access to education the same as boys in their country. But when the Taliban (ta·luh·ban) took control of her town in 2008, when she was 11, they said that girls could no longer go to school.

Malala spoke out against the discrimination, and four years later, in 2012, she was shot in the head by a masked gunman who wanted to silence her. Thankfully, she survived, and Malala went on to create a nonprofit that works to gain access to education for all girls. In 2014 she was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize and in 2020 she graduated from Oxford University in England. [ii]

Both Ruth and Malala – young women of different faiths– sought lives beyond the boundaries of the past, of their cultures and what was familiar.

In her story about Ruth, Chittister writes about the difference between willed change and unwilled change, saying that “willed change is what I seek and shape” while “unwilled change is what seeks me and reshapes me”.[iii]

What do we know about change? (accept answers from the congregation)

Scary. Disruptive. Disorienting. Uncomfortable.

But change can be hopeful, too, and change opens us to new experiences and understandings and cracks us open to God in new ways.[iv]

This Lent, may we remain open and curious to how the changes in our lives are helping us encounter God in new ways, and may we center God’s voice in our lives.

[i] Joan D. Chittister, OSB. The Story of Ruth: Twelve Moments in Every Woman’s Life. 25.

[ii] “Malala’s story”. Malala Fund. https://malala.org/malalas-story?sc=footer, accessed 3/1/2023

[iii] Chittister, 18.

[iv] ibid.