Reformation Sunday 2020

John 8:31-36

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.

Today we celebrate the 503rd anniversary of the Reformation, recognized on October 31st each year. While the Reformation is rooted in history, it is a movement toward the future.

As we celebrate the bold actions that Martin Luther took to hold the Church accountable, and recognize his place in the collection of reformers who challenged wrong when they saw it, we celebrate a Church where the Holy Spirit gathers us around word and sacrament; where God hears our cries for mercy and pours out abundant grace; and where the Spirit leads us into Christ’s future with glad and generous hearts.[i]

This year we have had to learn how to be the gathered church without being in the same building, or sometimes, even the same state, as is the case when members who have moved away or others who are on vacation worship online. And while we lament and grieve the losses and some of the ways that we are different now, we also have confidence that God is at work, that it is the Holy Spirit who gathers us together in Christ, and the Holy Spirit is not constrained or confined to one location.

We have also had to learn what it means to gather around word and sacrament, when physical touch is discouraged. We’ve turned new attention to the significance of our rituals and been curious about the longings people have for them and we have had to re-form what they look like. This re-forming and re-shaping has always been the legacy of the sixteenth-century Reformation.

In the midst of the pandemic and changes to how we gather and worship, the truth that we know, the truth that frees us in Christ, is that, through it all, God remains steadfast and in our midst. As the psalmist declares in Psalm 46,

God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear, though the earth should change.[ii]

This is the psalm that was the basis for Martin Luther’s Reformation hymn “A Mighty Fortress is Our God” where he wrote, 

though hordes of devils fill the land, all threatening to devour us, we tremble not, unmoved we stand; they cannot overpower us.[iii]

Against the evil in the world, God is our refuge and fortress, a hiding place where we can rest safe and secure. And God hears our cries for mercy , and pours out abundant grace.

Describing this wellspring of saving grace, German Lutheran theologian Dietrich Bonhoeffer wrote:

The past and future of our whole lives are merged in one in the presence of God.

The whole of the past is comprised in the word forgiveness. 

The whole of the future is in safe keeping in the faithfulness of God.[iv]

Forgiveness and faithfulness.

And thankfully, neither one depend on my effort or ability. These are God’s actions toward us. It is God who forgives us when we sin; in the borrowed words prayed by the Jewish people at Yom Kippur, when,:[v]

We abuse, we betray, we are cruel.
We destroy, we embitter, we falsify.
We gossip, we hate, we insult.
We jeer, we kill, we lie.
We mock, we neglect, we oppress.
We pervert, we quarrel, we rebel.
We steal, we transgress, we are unkind.
We are violent, we are wicked, we are xenophobic.
We yield to evil, we are zealots for bad causes.

It is God who forgives us –

God who created the whole world and loves us too much to let judgment and death have the final word against us when we are convicted by our sin.

Recalling Bonhoeffer again, he wrote:

We who once were lost, now are found in Christ and made members of his Body. In the rescuing light of God’s word, we become aware of the God who loves us; we see our neighbors and their need…[vi]

Forgiven by God, we are sent into the world,
where the Spirit is leading us into Christ’s future –
into a future freed from contention and divisiveness,
a future freed from strife or envy, ill will or spite.[vii]
And so, we go, with glad and generous hearts,
trusting God to guide our thinking and speaking, and to strengthen us by grace.

Let us pray…[viii]
O God,
you have called your servants to ventures of which we cannot see the ending,
by paths as yet untrodden, through perils unknown.
Give us faith to go out with good courage,
not knowing where we go,
but only that your hand is leading us and your love supporting us; through Jesus Christ our Lord.
Amen.

[i] from Reformation 500 Sourcebook, copyright © 2016 Augsburg Fortress.

[ii]  Psalm 46:1-2

[iii] “A Mighty Fortress is our God”, excerpt from v. 3.

[iv] Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Ethics, ed. Eberhard Bethge (New York: The Macmillan Company, 1962), 79–80.

[v] The confession from Yom Kippur evening service, Mahzor for Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, ed. Rabbi Jules Harlow (New York: Rabbinical Assembly, 1972), 403, 405.

[vi] Bonhoeffer.

[vii] “Where True Charity and Love Abide.” Text: Latin hymn, 9th cent. Translation © 1995, 2001 Augsburg Fortress.

[viii] Eric Milner-White and George Wallace Briggs, Daily Prayer (London: Oxford, 1941), 14; reprinted in Evangelical Lutheran Worship (Minneapolis: Augsburg Fortress, 2006), 317.

Twentieth Sunday after Pentecost / Lectionary 29A

Matthew 22:15-22

Have you ever set a trap for someone?

In one of the last scenes of the second Harry Potter movie Harry confronts the villainous Lucius Malfoy, returning a troublesome diary to him. Angrily, Lucius thrusts the book at his house elf Dobby, but when Dobby opens the book, he discovers a sock. If you don’t know, giving a house elf clothing is how a master frees the house elf, so unwittingly Lucius has set Dobby free. When he realizes he was tricked, Lucius sputters and spits at Harry, but he cannot change what has happened. Harry has defeated him.

In today’s gospel, the Pharisees set a trap for Jesus.

And – spoiler alert – the trap backfires.

There’s an ancient proverb that says, “the enemy of my enemy is my friend” and the Pharisees, who were the Jewish leaders and teachers, team up with the Herodians, who supported the political appointees who governed the region, and were dependent on Roman favor. [i]

The trick question they ask Jesus is, “Is it lawful to pay taxes to the emperor, or not?”

Earlier, in Matthew 17, the collectors of the temple tax asked Peter if Jesus paid that tax. Prior to the destruction of the temple in 70CE, the temple tax was a sign of solidarity of the  Jews in Israel and the Diaspora, and it supported the sanctuary in Jerusalem; after the temple’s destruction, the Romans continued to levy the tax to keep up the Jupiter Capitolinus temple in Rome.[ii] Peter answered that Jesus did pay the temple tax, and Jesus instructed Peter to pay the tax for them both, “to avoid giving offense….”[iii]

Ironically, in today’s gospel reading, the Pharisees and Herodians begin with false praise of Jesus, including stating that he does not show deference or partiality to others; they say that he is not swayed by the opinions of others. The truth is he isn’t swayed by superficial arguments or illegitimate leaders, but, throughout Scripture, Jesus is moved by the suffering he sees and has compassion upon the crowds he meets.

Today his opponents are asking about the census tax. That was a direct poll tax or “head tax levied by the Romans on all adults under their rule.”[iv] To call the census tax unlawful wouldn’t merely give offense; it “would be a public and dangerous repudiation of Roman authority.”[v] And yet, to call it lawful, without qualification, would appear to endorse the Roman occupiers.

But Jesus evades their trap.

He asks them to show him the coin used for the tax. When they produce the Roman coin imprinted with the image of Tiberius Caesar on it, and inscribed with the title, “Tiberius Caesar, august son of the Divine High Priest Augustus” Jesus simply asks them whose head and title are on the coin, and then he delivers the familiar one liner:

Give therefore to the emperor the things that are the emperor’s , and to God the things that are God’s. (22:21) [vi]

Not only does Jesus evade the trap they’ve set with their question, but he also exposes them and the nature of their hearts.

Too often when we hear this parable, our attention turns toward the role of government and taxes, or even separation of church and state. But the question that matters isn’t about civics or money or taxes. The question that matters is, “Who is the Lord and ruler of our lives?”

When we proclaim that God is sovereign, then everything in creation belongs first to God. There is nothing to reserve or keep from God.

In his book Giving to God, Lutheran pastor and teacher Mark Allen Powell begins by telling a story about the baptism of the Gauls. He’s careful to say that while the story may not be historical fact, it is nonetheless true.

The Gauls were an ancient people who lived in what is now France and Belgium, and by the time of the Christian era, they had been conquered by the Roman Empire and were supposedly under their control. As Christian missionaries arrived in the region, many of the Gauls became Christians.

As the story goes, when a converted Gaul warrior was baptized in a river or stream, he would hold one arm high in the air as the missionary dunked him under the water. This seemed peculiar to the missionaries but they soon learned the reason for it. When the next battle broke out, the Gaul would proclaim, “This arm is not baptized!”, grab his weapon, and ride off to brutally destroy his enemy.

Even as he acknowledges the story is more likely myth than history, Powell tells the story because it gives us the compelling image of someone trying to keep part of their body, one aspect of their identity, free from the influence of baptism.[vii]

Baptism delivers us from the forces of evil, puts our sinful selves to death, gives us new birth, and makes us one with Christ and the whole people of God.[viii]

When I hear Jesus say, “Give to God what is God’s.” I am reminded of Psalm 139 where the psalmist writes,

13 For it was you who formed my inward parts; you knit me together in my mother's womb.  14 I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works; that I know very well.  15 My frame was not hidden from you, when I was being made in secret, intricately woven in the depths of the earth. 16 Your eyes beheld my unformed substance. In your book were written all the days that were formed for me, when none of them as yet existed. 17 How weighty to me are your thoughts, O God! How vast is the sum of them! 18 I try to count them-- they are more than the sand; I come to the end-- I am still with you. (v. 13-18)

God— our creator, our life-giver and our sustainer — knows us inside and out and loves us, and delivers us wholly and completely. Following Jesus, being a disciple, means surrendering ourselves, without qualification, to God. As Luther writes in the catechism regarding the first commandment, “We are to fear, love and trust God above all things.”[ix]

We can no more hide, reserve, or withhold a part of ourselves from God — our lives, thoughts, words or deeds — than live with a gangrenous limb. And if we think we are succeeding at separating what is ours, what is theirs and what is God’s, we are allowing the powers and principalities of this world to trap us in a reality that does not reflect God’s abundant kingdom. And we are deceiving ourselves, not God.

Let us pray.

Holy and Lifegiving God,

Thank you sending your Son Jesus that we can know your abundant love for us.

Show us how to fear, love and trust You above all things. Following Jesus, may we withhold nothing, show compassion for those who suffer and not be swayed by false teachers.

By the power of your Holy Spirit deliver us from division.

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

Amen.

[i] Donald Senior. Matthew. 248.

[ii] Senior, 202-203.

[iii] ibid

[iv] Senior, 247.

[v] Senior, 247.

[vi] Senior 248.

[vii] Mark Allen Powell. Giving to God: The Bible’s Good News about Living a Generous Life. xi-xii.

[viii] Evangelical Lutheran Worship, 225.

[ix] Ibid, 1160.

Nineteenth Sunday after Pentecost / Lectionary 28A

Matthew 22: 1-14

One of the podcasts I listen to in the course of my preaching preparation describes the Revised Common Lectionary, the three-year cycle of four readings for each Sunday, as being “designed to bring congregations through the great narrative of scripture without being constrained by the choice of the preacher.” This is one week when I might have chosen differently.

In the gospel text we just heard Jesus tells another parable, where he compares the kingdom of heaven to a wedding banquet given by a king. Maybe, Matthew wants us to recall the wedding at Cana, the first of the miracles Jesus performed, and a story we only hear from the evangelist John. Or maybe we are to compare wearing the wedding garment to being clothed in Christ at baptism. Maybe Matthew is comparing the king to God and the son is Jesus, but then, what meaning are we supposed to make from the enraged king who sends his troops to destroy murderers and burn the city? (v. 7) Or from the later actions of that same king, who invites everyone to come to the feast, and then casts out one man, condemning him to the outer darkness? (v. 13) It is a difficult text.

The epistle we have today is difficult in another way. It is Paul’s conclusion to his letter to the church at Philippi. And one of the most well-known lines is verse 4:

Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice.

The risk is that in the midst of current events Paul’s words come across as tone-deaf, starry- eyed, or helplessly idealistic.

Over the past week, there has been violence and unrest in our country and in places like Kyrgyzstan where the election may have been corrupted; there has been destruction where a fourth named storm has made landfall on the Gulf Coast, and lives and homes have been endangered by fires in the Pacific northwest and by flash floods that rose in France and Italy; and life and dignity continue to be disregarded in Myanmar where children are exploited for labor and in Yemen where they are facing a fifth year of famine.

And even closer to home, loved ones have died, others have fallen ill, and still others have lost jobs, been isolated and alone and struggled to know God’s love.

And then there’s COVID-19.

It is a time of disorientation and dis-connectedness. And, I imagine rejoicing is probably not the first response most of us have. Rage, anxiety, despair, and lament, but not rejoicing.

But Paul wasn’t wearing rose-colored glasses when he wrote these words.

Paul wrote this letter to the church in Philippi, a Roman colony and the center of Christianity in Europe at the time, early in his imprisonment in Rome.[i] He had been arrested and jailed, and he probably expected to die there, killed or martyred. He could see quite plainly what lay ahead.

And yet, he writes about the joy that is found in centering our lives in Christ. Listen to what he writes:

1 Therefore, my brothers and sisters, whom I love and long for, my joy and crown, stand firm in the Lord in this way, my beloved.  

2 I urge Euodia and I urge Syntyche to be of the same mind in the Lord.  3 Yes, and I ask you also, my loyal companion, help these women, for they have struggled beside me in the work of the gospel, together with Clement and the rest of my co-workers, whose names are in the book of life.

4 Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice.  

5 Let your gentleness be known to everyone. The Lord is near.  6 Do not worry about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God.  7 And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.  

8 Finally, beloved, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is pleasing, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence and if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.

9 Keep on doing the things that you have learned and received and heard and seen in me, and the God of peace will be with you.

The word “therefore” points us back to the earlier parts of Paul’s letter, as does the phrase “in this way.” Far from being flippant, or dismissive, Paul is re-orienting these Jesus-followers, reminding them that they are not at the mercy of the world around them.

He instructs them first, “Stand firm in the Lord.” Having heard the stories of who God is, and witnessed God’s activity in the world, we are called to remember who we know God to be, and who we are as God’s people.

Paul recognizes that Gospel work, following Christ and pointing to God’s love for the world, is challenging work, but importantly it is not work we do alone. God provides us with companions and co-workers.

And then Paul continues with encouragement, urging the Philippians to rejoice.

He doesn’t say, “Rejoice in the suffering of others.” He doesn’t say, “Rejoice because of your victory.”

He says, “Rejoice in the Lord.” Rejoice because we share in God’s grace (1:7); rejoice because Christ Jesus has made us his own (3:12); rejoice because our citizenship is in heaven (3:20).

We rejoice because God is God and we are not. We are not rejoicing to express an emotional high or to ignore the suffering we witness, but to proclaim our faith, deeply rooted and grounded in knowing Jesus as Lord and Savior.

When Paul continues, his emphasis is on gentleness, prayer and thanksgiving. This isn’t aspirational language. These are the characteristics of disciples, living out of who we are as followers of Jesus and standing firm in the Lord.

A popular prayer or call and response we used to say before Wednesday night meals in my home congregation was, “God is good all the time. All the time, God is good.” I admit that I have wondered sometimes about those words. There are definitely days when it doesn’t feel true. I don’t feel like rejoicing. But at the ground of my being, I know God is good.  God, the Creator, Life-giver and Sustainer is good. It doesn’t mean I have to like everything I see happening, or even understand it, but I have confidence in the God whom I know through the person of Jesus, and I can offer thanksgiving and prayer.

Paul concludes by urging the people in Philippi to “think about these things”, referring to the things that reflect the good in the world. Like a modern gratitude practice where you name something everyday and give thanks, Paul encourages us to pay attention to the world around us and notice where God is showing up, confident in God’s presence with us in all circumstances.

Paul isn’t urging us to sentimentality; instead he is urging us, as one colleague wrote, to “live into the belief that God can and will bridge the gap between the world we long for and the world we see before our eyes.”[ii]

That’s not so difficult after all.

Amen.

[i] Enter the Bible. Luther Seminary. https://www.enterthebible.org/newtestament.aspx?rid=9, accessed 10/9/2020

[ii] Debie Thomas, “Sunday’s Coming.” The Christian Century.

Eighteenth Sunday after Pentecost / Lectionary 27A

Matthew 21:33-46

The parable we just heard is set in a vineyard that the landowner prepared for planting, put a fence around and built a watchtower over.

Often it’s risky to turn parables into allegories, associating each character in the parable to something, or someone, in the world where we live. But there’s widespread agreement that this parable is an allegory. Matthew has taken the text from Mark and told this story in a way that would speak to his community, a community of Jesus followers living after the destruction of the temple in Jerusalem in 70 AD.

In Christianity, this text has been misused dangerously and inaccurately to suggest a supersessionist view where God replaces a disobedient Israel with faithful Gentiles. But Matthew’s community were Jewish Christians, not Gentiles, so that doesn’t make sense; it also assumes that the Gentile church has been more faithful than the Jews and, sadly, history refutes that claim.[i]

Listening to this parable, Matthew’s audience would have immediately recognized that the vineyard represents Israel.

We didn’t hear it but today’s Old Testament reading is the “Song of the Unfruitful Vineyard” from Isaiah 5, a poem and allegory that “expresses the divine pain at the people’s failure to live out the relationship with their God.”[ii] “God richly blessed and tended God's "vineyard," the chosen people, giving them everything they needed to thrive. But instead of grapes, God got wild grapes, so the vineyard must be radically pruned.”[iii]

In Matthew’s parable, the landowner is God and the two groups of servants reflect the “typical Jewish groupings of the Scriptures into the “former” prophets [which are Joshua through Kings] and the “latter” prophets [which are Isaiah through Malachi].”[iv]

Of course, the son, and heir, is Jesus himself, who was sent by God to God’s people, and then arrested and executed.

And the tenants, well, the tenants, are the people of God, the ones entrusted to care for God’s kingdom; and in the parable, the tenants are the Pharisees, the chief priests and elders. They ignore the landowner’s authority over them in favor of their own plans, and instead of responding with gratitude for the plentiful harvest, or recognizing the abundance they’ve been given, instead of returning to God a portion of what God had provided them, the tenants act out of greed and self-interest. Their “attitude of selfishness that has no need for God” leads them to violence and murder.

Matthew, Luke and Mark all include a version of this parable and say that that when the chief priests and the Pharisees realized Jesus was speaking about them, they wanted to arrest him but they didn’t for fear of the crowds. (Matt. 21:45-46, Mark 12:12, Luke 20:19)

Jesus didn’t avoid conflict but called the religious leaders and the people of Israel to be accountable as God’s people. Then as now, being God’s people means that we follow God’s commands for our relationship with God and with each other. As Luther states throughout his catechism, we are first “to fear and love God so that” our actions will reflect God.

Today, when we hear this parable and understand ourselves as the tenants, we may think of our congregation as the vineyard, a bountiful place where we build a fence or hedge around us for protection, and add a watchtower to alert us to those who might cause trouble.

The parable then is a warning, because the fence and watchtower only separated the tenants farther from the rest of the world. The community became one of insiders and outsiders and the tenants felt threatened by people they didn’t know who came to the vineyard.

I recently heard Pastor Kelly Chatman from North Minneapolis describe his congregation there, and he said, one time, when some people from the neighborhood came to worship for the first time, someone complained because they saw the visitors eating potato chips in the back of the sanctuary. Even Pastor Kelly said he started to say something, to gently correct them, but he caught himself because he recognized what was happening in that moment: there were visitors eating potato chips in the back of the sanctuary because there were people coming to church who didn’t already know the rules, they didn’t know all the words to the prayers or the hymns, when to stand and when to sit, and they’d come anyway.

They saw something in that congregation that made them want to be a part of it. They saw Jesus there.

And, that is Good News.

If we’re serious about working for the kingdom of God, then the vineyard is “all the places where we have been called by God to produce the fruits of the kingdom.”[v] And when we use that definition, the whole world opens up. The kingdom isn’t limited to one congregation, or even one denomination or doctrine, but the whole world.

Following Jesus, we all are entrusted with God’s kingdom and that includes the ways we live out the kingdom of God in our homes and places of business, our schools and neighborhoods, our friend groups and associations, as well as our congregation.

And when we see the expansive kingdom of God, the watchtower is transformed into a lighthouse illuminating God’s love for our neighbors and guiding us to those places where we may be in service in our community and world.

Let us pray…

Good and gracious God,

Thank you for sending Your Son Jesus to us, and for your forgiveness when we do not receive him and we reject your love for us.

Help us to see all that we are and all that we have is because of your abundant grace for us.

Send us out into your kingdom, into all the places of our lives,

That the world would see Jesus.

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

[i] Donald Senior. Matthew. 238-244.

[ii] Charles Aaron, Jr. “Commentary on Isaiah 5:1-7.” Luther Seminary. Workingpreacher.org

[iii] Fred Gaiser. “Isaiah.” Luther Seminary. EntertheBible.org

[iv] Donald Senior. Matthew. 239.

[v] Brian Stoffregen. “Exegetical notes on Matthew 21:33-46."

Seventeenth Sunday after Pentecost / Lectionary 26A

Who remembers Holy Week?

It’s not a trick question. Believe it or not, Palm Sunday, which marks the beginning of Holy Week, was April 5, just a little less than six months ago.

A little over six months ago on March 13 our congregation, and many around us, moved worship online and closed our buildings, in a faithful effort to manage the impact of the novel coronavirus on our community. None of us imagined then that we would still be managing life in a pandemic six months later, but here we are.

And while autumn’s arrival helps us mark time and distances us even farther from springtime, this year especially, it feels like Holy Week happened a very, very long time ago.

But today’s gospel is a Holy Week text. On Palm Sunday our attention turns to the triumphant procession that carries Jesus into Jerusalem, but this gospel text takes place on what we call Holy Monday, the day following Jesus’ arrival in the royal city.

As we listen to this gospel text, it’s helpful to place it in the context of the days preceding Jesus’ arrest and execution.

It isn’t surprising to hear some of the religious leaders question Jesus’ authority. These same leaders had questioned his disciples about why he ate with tax collectors and sinners (9:11) and why they didn’t fast (9:14) and why he healed on the Sabbath. They were convinced his authority came from the devil. (9:34) Matthew tells us they were angry after hearing about the Hosannas that were shouted the day before. (21:15)

So now, fueled by their resentment and fear, they confront Jesus, hoping to expose him as a charlatan, a fraud.

And instead, he reveals their own hypocrisy.

Jesus tells the leaders he will answer their question if they will answer his. Similar to Socratic questioning where the teacher probes the students’ knowledge with questions, Jesus poses his own question to search for the truth behind the question they have asked.

But instead of answering truthfully, the leaders hem and haw, arguing about which answer was best. They could answer that the baptism of John came from heaven and, consequently, admit they denied the evidence of God’s power at work in front of them. Or they could deny God’s power was at work in John and incur the wrath of the people who saw him as a prophet.

When they realized that neither answer would get the result they wanted, they chose not to answer at all, telling Jesus, “We don’t know.”

He wasn’t fooled.

They didn’t like the evidence before them, but they knew the answer.  They didn’t like what telling the truth would cost them, so they lived the lie.

When the leaders wouldn’t answer him, Jesus tells them the parable of the two sons, clearly comparing these leaders to the second son, the one who feigned obedience and told his father he would go to the vineyard and work, but never went.  Like the leaders, that son had all the right words and he was courteous and respectful, but his actions were empty.

In contrast, the first son answered truthfully, “No, I won’t go.” Jesus doesn’t tell us how the father reacted, but he does tell us that late, this son changed his mind. The Greek here is “he repented.” And after he repented, he followed his father’s instructions and did his father’s work.

Jesus compares the tax collectors and prostitutes to this son. These same sinners who had drawn the leaders’ criticism earlier in Jesus’ ministry aren’t the people who spend all day in the temple court (or the church). They don’t know the prayers, they don’t follow the rules, and they don’t show the religious leaders the reverence they expect. But they see the truth in John’s proclamation, and they believe and follow Jesus.

And Jesus says they will go into the kingdom of God before the so-called religious leaders who have failed to recognize God’s power at work first through John and then in Jesus.

Jesus’ question, “Which of [these] did the will of his father?” invites us to reflect on how we respond to God.

When have we said, “yes” but not lived out that “yes”?

When have we said we are “Christian” but forgotten to follow Christ?

When have we been unwilling to give the unpopular answer because it will be uncomfortable or inconvenient?

When have we refused to let God change us?

When have we rejected the ways God is at work because accepting God’s transformative love for all is disruptive?

I expect most of us recognize times when we have followed more closely in the footsteps of the chief priests and elders, than we have followed Jesus. Our sinful nature turns our attention to ourselves and our self-preservation and turns us away from God.

The Good News we hear today is that we can repent,
change our minds and hearts, think differently,
and go to work in the vineyard, doing our Father’s work
in God’s kingdom here on earth.

Let us pray…

Good and gracious God,

Thank you for your Son Jesus who came into this world, revealing your power and authority.

Forgive us when we become captive to fear, resentment and self-centeredness, especially when it hurts your beloved children.

Help us see how you are changing lives in our congregation and in our community and drawing people to you, and put us to work in your kingdom here on earth.

Amen.

Sixteenth Sunday after Pentecost / Lectionary 25A

Matthew 20:1 - 16

We have jumped ahead a chapter in Matthew; in chapter 19, Jesus had a conversation with a young man who wanted to know what he had to do to have eternal life, and when Jesus told the young man to give up everything he had and follow him, the young man went away grieving. And then Peter said, "… we have left everything and followed you. What then will we have?" (Matt. 19:27) This parable is a response to Peter’s question.

Author Brené Brown tells the story of teaching this parable to children in vacation Bible school. She had one group of children start jumping jacks and promised if they did jumping jacks the whole time, they would be paid $500 in Monopoly money. So they began, and then a few minutes later Brown invited another group of children to begin, and then in the last minute she invited a third group. After she told them all to stop, she paid the children what she had promised. And when the children who had jumped the longest saw that everyone was paid the same amount, the kids immediately protested saying how unfair it was.[i]

I think that’s probably how most of us react to this parable.

We want our effort to matter. We want to be set apart and rewarded for our faithfulness. It’s as if everyone is competing for a share and we want to be sure to get ours. And, if we’re honest, we want people who don’t work as hard as us to get less.

But, again, Jesus teaches us differently.

In the parable, the landowner promises the laborers they will be paid “what is right.”

And we learn that
“what is right” is not a calculation or a formula;
“what is right” is not “what we think we deserve”;
and “what is right” is not what we think others deserve either.

“What is right” is not determined by us.

In God’s economy, God decides what is right.

The grace that is given to us through faith in Jesus Christ is free and unmerited, unearned.

God graces us because God loves us. And God loves us because God created us and formed us. There isn’t any other reason.

The parable lets us choose how to respond to God’s grace.

In the parable we hear from the ones who started early in the morning and felt like they were treated unfairly. They grumble that the landowner has made all the workers equal, without any regard for how much harder the earliest ones had worked.

The landowner challenges the grumbling workers, asking, in this translation, “Are you envious because I am generous?” (v. 15) The question is even more pointed than that though; the translation of the Greek is,

“Is your eye evil because I am good?”

Earlier in Matthew Chapter 6, in the Sermon on the Mount Jesus says,

22 "The eye is the lamp of the body. So, if your eye is healthy, your whole body will be full of light; 23 but if your eye is unhealthy, your whole body will be full of darkness. If then the light in you is darkness, how great is the darkness! (Matt. 6:22-23)

Remember how Luther defines sin as being turned in on oneself? Here we have the laborers turning their eyes not toward God but toward themselves and what they might gain. Their evil eyes cannot see God’s goodness.

We don’t hear from the laborers who showed up late but we can use our imaginations to consider how they may have responded.

When Episcopal priest Robert Farrar Capon tells this parable he sets it in modern times, and he casts the late workers as unkempt, wearing a lot of leather and playing loud music on the street. He suggests that when the last ones hired see what they’ve been paid, they just keep walking, quickly, sure there’s been a mistake, and just as sure they aren’t going to be the ones to correct it.[ii]

But in my imagination I don’t think the last ones hired were lazy.

Maybe they had spent the day navigating remote learning for their children and only went to the marketplace when the school day was finished. Maybe they had been caring for an elderly family member who couldn’t be left alone. Maybe they had anxiety or another disability and could not come to the marketplace when it was crowded, so they waited until later in the day.

Imagine the latecomers’ surprise and joy when they discover that they get the same grace, the same unconditional and boundless love from God as everyone who got there before them!

In this parable Jesus teaches me that God’s grace for me is not diminished because God loves you or anyone else, too.

It may take a while, but eventually even Peter understands.

In the Acts of the Apostles Peter witnesses the outpouring of the Holy Spirit upon the Gentiles and when he reports the events to the church in Jerusalem, he tells them,

If then God gave the same gift that he gave us when we believed in the Lord Jesus Christ, who was I that I could hinder God? (Acts 11:19)

Despite all the ways we try to make the kingdom of heaven look like our world and we want God to do what we want God to do, Jesus shows us the kingdom of heaven is where God’s grace springs from God’s goodness and nothing else.

Thanks be to God.

[i] Brené Brown. “Grace is not attractive.” https://www.theworkofthepeople.com/grace-is-not-attractive, accessed September 19, 2020

[ii] Robert Farrar Capon. Kingdom, Grace and Judgment. 391-397.

Fifteenth Sunday after Pentecost / Lectionary 24A

There’s a scene in the movie “Seabiscuit”where the young jockey Red plans to keep his horse just behind the favorite until he makes his sprint and then pull ahead for the win, but his plans change. Another horse and jockey foul him and suddenly Red urges his horse forward and the two lead the race as Red berates the other rider and pushes him repeatedly toward the rail, punishing him for the foul. In the home stretch, all the other horses pass them, and when the race ends, Red and the offending rider finish in last place. When the owner and trainer come to Red after the race and ask him what happened, he’s agitated and angry and he yells, “He fouled me! Was I supposed to let him get away with that?” “He fouled me!”

When we have been wronged, often our emotions run high, like Red’s. We want revenge or retaliation. We want to calculate the cost and make the offender pay.

But Jesus teaches us differently.

In today’s gospel when Peter asks, “how often should I forgive?” (Matt. 18:21), Jesus answers him, “"Not seven times, but, I tell you, seventy-seven times. (Matt. 18:22)

And then he tells the parable of the unforgiving servant to show what the kingdom of heaven is like.

In this parable, a king calls in his debts and one of his slaves, who cannot repay the enormous debt that he owes, falls on his knees and pleads to the king for mercy. And the king takes pity on the slave and forgives the debt. But instead of gratitude and mercy toward others, that slave then threatens another one who owes him a debt and throws that one into prison until he can repay him. When the king hears what his slave has done, he is angry; he calls the man wicked, withdraws his forgiveness and orders him to be tortured.

Immediately we should hear the echo of Jesus’ preaching the Sermon on the Mount in Matthew 6, where he said:

14 For if you forgive others their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you; 15 but if you do not forgive others, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses. (Matt. 6:13-15)

We probably also hear Red’s voice screaming, “You want me to let him (or her) get away with that?”

Because often that is how we understand forgiveness. It feels like forgiveness means letting someone get away with something or excusing bad behavior, or even violence. It feels like we are giving something up to someone who has only taken from us. And we feel justified in announcing our judgment and withholding forgiveness.

But judgment isn’t ours to execute. God is the ultimate judge.

As Paul writes in his letter to the Romans,

Why do you pass judgment on your brother or sister? Or you, why do you despise your brother or sister? For we will all stand before the judgment seat of God. (Rom 14:10)

Forgiveness is a hard teaching from Jesus. As Bishop Michael Rinehart from the Texas-Louisiana Gulf Coast Synod wrote, “Forgiveness is relinquishing my right to get even, and giving up my right to hurt you for hurting me.” It is not easy to grant forgiveness. And as Jesus tells Peter, it isn’t quick.

Thankfully, the parable doesn’t hide how difficult or tenuous forgiveness is. I cringed when I heard how the king later acted out of anger, and how the unforgiving servant dug an even deeper Pit for himself by refusing forgiveness to the one who needed it.

I’m sure part of my reaction is because I recognize myself in their humanity — wanting to limit who I forgive, depending on how much contrition they’ve shown, or wanting to get what’s mine, forgetting that all I am and have is God’s.

The heart of what Jesus is teaching here is that when we practice judgment and withhold forgiveness, it is as if we are forgetting the forgiveness we ourselves have received,
“the free gift of God’s promise” for you and for me.

Corrie ten Boom was a Dutch Christian who hid Jews in her home during the Nazi occupation of Holland during World War 2. Before the war ended, she and her sister Betsie were imprisoned at the Ravensbruck concentration camp and Betsie died in the camp in 1944.

After the war, Corrie traveled and preached about forgiveness and reconciliation. In an interview later, she spoke about an encounter she had in 1947 when she traveled to a Munich church. After she spoke at the church, she recognized one of the men there as one of the guards from Ravensbruck. She was flooded with memories of their imprisonment and her sister’s death as she watched him approach her. When he spoke, he told her that he had become a Christian and knew that God forgave him for his cruelty, and now he was asking Corrie for her forgiveness. And in the interview, Corrie revealed with great honesty that she could not answer him immediately, and that in the passing seconds, which felt like years to her, all she felt was anger. She continued,

…I stood there with the coldness clutching my heart. But forgiveness is not an emotion — I knew that too.

Forgiveness is an act of the will, and the will can function regardless of the temperature of the heart. "Jesus, help me!" I prayed silently. "I can lift my hand, I can do that much. You supply the feeling."

And so woodenly, mechanically, I thrust my hand into the one stretched out to me. And as I did, an incredible thing took place. The current started in my shoulder, raced down my arm, sprang into our joined hands. And then this healing warmth seemed to flood my whole being, bringing tears to my eyes.

"I forgive you, brother!" I cried. "With all my heart!"

For a long moment we grasped each other's hands, the former guard and the former prisoner. I had never known God's love so intensely as I did then.[i]

Forgiveness is an act of compassion. Throughout Matthew’s gospel, we hear how Jesus had compassion for the crowds he encountered and how people were transformed afterward by his actions toward them (Matthew 9:36, 14:14, 15:32). The same word is used here when it says that the king had pity on his slave –he was moved to compassion for the slave.

When we forgive, we surrender the outcome to God and say, “Thy will be done.” We believe that the past will not control the future, and that a different future is possible. [ii] We believe that God can work in circumstances and people in ways we cannot understand.

Forgiveness recognizes what God has already done for us. As Paul writes in his second letter to the church in Corinth, “When we are forgiven, in Christ, there is a new creation: everything old has passed away; … everything has become new! (2 Corinthians 5:17)

When the unforgiving servant refused forgiveness to the slave who owed him, he refused the new life that had been given to him. He refused the abundance of mercy that had been offered to him. His refusal to be changed and redeemed by God is what led to his own imprisonment; it was a cell of his own making, built on the foundation of unforgiveness.

Jesus shows us we have a choice. We can choose to harden our hearts toward others and remain in bondage to anger and vengeance, or we can choose to surrender ourselves, our hearts and our wills, extending the mercy that we have first been given.

Let us pray…
Good and gracious God,
Thank you for your grace that You do “not deal with us according to our sins nor repay us according to our iniquities” but instead offer us new life in Christ.[iii]
We confess that we forget the abundant mercy and forgiveness that you have already given us when we declare judgment on others.
Help us live in the kingdom of heaven here on earth, forgiving others as you have first forgiven us.
We pray in the name of Jesus Christ, our Savior and Lord. 
Amen.

[i] Corrie ten Boom, “I'm Still Learning to Forgive.” https://www.pbs.org/wgbh/questionofgod/voices/boom.html, accessed September 11, 2020.

[ii] Sermon Brainwave. Luther Seminary.

[iii] Psalm 103:10