What about just enough?

Ecclesiastes 1:2, 12-14; 2:18-23

Vanity of vanities, says the Teacher, vanity of vanities! All is vanity. I, the Teacher, when king over Israel in Jerusalem, applied my mind to seek and to search out by wisdom all that is done under heaven; it is an unhappy business that God has given to human beings to be busy with. I saw all the deeds that are done under the sun; and see, all is vanity, and a chasing after wind. I hated all my toil in which I had toiled under the sun, seeing that I must leave it to those who come after me - and who knows whether they will be wise or foolish? Yet they will be master of all for which I toiled and used my wisdom under the sun. This also is vanity. So I turned and gave my heart up to despair concerning all the toil of my labors under the sun, because sometimes the one who has toiled with wisdom and knowledge and skill must leave all to be enjoyed by another who did not toil for it. This also is vanity and a great evil. What do mortals get from all the toil and strain with which they toil under the sun? For all their days are full of pain, and their work is a vexation; even at night their minds do not rest. This also is vanity. 

Psalm 49:1-12

Hear this, all you peoples; give ear, all you who dwell in the world, you of high degree and low, rich and poor together. My mouth shall speak of wisdom, and my heart shall meditate on understanding. I will incline my ear to a proverb and set forth my riddle upon the harp. Why should I be afraid in evil days, when the wickedness of those at my heels surrounds me, the wickedness of those who put their trust in their own prowess, and boast of their great riches? One can never redeem another, or give to God the ransom for another’s life; for the ransom of a life is so great that there would never be enough to pay it, in order to live forever and ever and never see the grave. For we see that the we die also; like the dull and stupid they perish and leave their wealth to those who come after them. Their graves shall be their homes forever, their dwelling places from generation to generation, though they had named lands after themselves. Even though honored, they cannot live forever; they are like the beasts that perish.

Colossians 3:1-11

So if you have been raised with Christ, seek the things that are above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth, for you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God. When Christ who is your life is revealed, then you also will be revealed with him in glory. Put to death, therefore, whatever in you is earthly: fornication, impurity, passion, evil desire, and greed (which is idolatry). On account of these the wrath of God is coming on those who are disobedient. These are the ways you also once followed, when you were living that life. But now you must get rid of such things - anger, wrath, malice, slander, and abusive language from your mouth. Do not lie to one another, seeing that you have stripped off the old self with its practices and have clothed yourselves with the new self, which is being renewed in knowledge according to the image of its creator. In that renewal there is no longer Greek and Jew, circumcised and uncircumcised, barbarian, Scythian, slave and free; but Christ is all and in all!

Luke 12:13-21

Someone in the crowd said to Jesus, “Teacher tell my brother to divide the family inheritance with me.” But he said to him, “Friend, who set me to be a judge or arbitrator over you?” And he said to them, “Take care! Be on your guard against all kinds of greed; for one’s life does not consist in the abundance of possessions.” Then he told them a parable: “The land of a rich man produced abundantly. And he thought to himself, ‘What should I do, for I have no place to store my crops?’ Then he said, ‘I will do this: I will pull down my barns and build larger ones, and there I will store all my grain and my goods. And I will say to my soul, Soul, you have ample goods laid up for many years; relax, eat, drink, be merry.’ But God said to him, ‘You fool! This very night your life is being demanded of you. And the things you have prepared, whose will they be?’ So it is with those who store up treasures for themselves but are not rich toward God.”

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Something I am learning about the hard work of relationships, is that it is much easier to work toward being financially secure and professionally successful, much easier than it is to be with other people, and with myself, as we are. We have a long history of working ourselves to death to have something to show for ourselves, which is not to say we should go the other way and be completely wasteful stewards, but how much living do we miss when we fill up on earning value for ourselves instead of celebrating the value we already have?

My paternal grandfather worked every single day he could, never taking vacation until the very end of his career with the US Postal service, when he had so much vacation and sick time accumulated it was two years’ worth when he retired. Or at least that’s the way I’ve heard the story. And I really admire his work ethic, but he missed out on a lot of his family’s life by being on that train all the time to deliver the mail, and he wept over that loss when he was dying. To illustrate more recently than a century ago, I have worked hourly wage jobs with people who do not stop to take breaks even though it is legally required to do so. Which may not seem like a big deal, but people who are so afraid of a bad review that they even clock out for their lunch and keep doing little work-related things, that prevents their coworkers from feeling free to take their own breaks as they need them. 

This Gospel reading today makes me think of these people. The ones who work their way to wherever they think they are going, not so much out of passion for the work as for anxiety over their reputation and usefulness. They get so consumed by their work that, at the end of the day, a lot has been accomplished, much has been built, except there are no personal relationships grown. I’ve been one of those people, and I know a lot of people who would also identify with that struggle. It’s not that I’m not passionate about the work, but sometimes it feels like, if I stop working long enough to look around I might not like or even know what I see in the mirror. This story feels very familiar to the Mary and Martha experience from two weeks ago in that way.

Looking at the way the lectionary organizers put this together, I wonder what they were intending by keeping the prologue to this parable in the reading. Because the question that sparks this story is as important as the story itself. Two brothers coming to have Jesus decide who gets which part of an inheritance. Or, rather, one brother trying to use Jesus to get the other brother to divide things more fairly, it seems. Now, we won’t get the story of the Prodigal Son for a few more chapters in Luke, but this division of inheritance usually means that someone has died, and the two young men who can’t share what’s been left to them are having some sort of, what, family spat? Identity crisis? Like, who are they and what’s to be done with their reputations now that their patriarch is gone? What do they have to show for who they are now that they’re not identified by the previous family mascot? Or, even at its most basic, who are they to each other? Because if they need to bring in a third party to act fairly with one another, what must their relationship be like? Why do they rely on the law to navigate their brotherhood?

It’s so much easier to deal with stuff and with laws than with people. Logic is easier to wrap our heads around than feelings and anxieties and pains and vulnerabilities. But we are so much more than what box we fit into or what kind of paycheck we bring in. Going through the upstairs office next door, I’ve found all kinds of records of this parish’s history, and the papers and articles are absolutely fascinating. I was particularly excited to find the notebook of youth ministry, the Luther League records, to see how that ministry was done fifty or sixty years ago, but I was so disappointed to find only attendance and offering tallies. Not that it wasn’t cool to see last names I recognized, but I was so sad that the memories of what that ministry was had been reduced to statistics. Where were the campfire stories? The narratives about feeding the hungry or even having a social get-together? We are so much more than our numbers can tell. And yet isn’t that how we measure success? Isn’t that how we measure fear, too? After all, we're talking about sharing two pastors with eight congregations, and each parish has its own reasons for being part of the conversation, but de we expect to feel better about our value if we get more stuff done? Why do we do that to ourselves?

Something that the commentators brought up a few times on this Gospel today is the way the rich man talks to himself. His land produces much, and he takes credit for it. Then he is so turned in on himself he doesn’t even consider who else around him might be hungry, he doesn’t plan for a harvest festival for the community, he doesn’t celebrate his laborers who planted and brought in the harvest, he decides that what he has already isn’t enough and he must build himself larger storage units. What does he do for his soul? He takes his leisure, isolated from community, completely self-absorbed.

We’ve got this gap, this wall, this break in relationship between ourselves and one another, between ourselves and the Holy. It’s as though we’re trying our hardest to be something we’re not because there’s something we find inherently wrong with being mortal, with needing food and drink and sleep and other people. Well how much more could God do to tell us we are indeed good enough as we are, how much more than by putting on that same humanity completely to live and walk with us? And if we think there is anything less worthy about our pain, the very act of dying on the cross is what we identify as Jesus’ saving act for the world. 

Because being human is enough. It’s what we were created to be. Whatever we hide from behind our possessions and our status symbols, whatever fears of not measuring up to standards or not being worth loving, we tell a story of a God who has not only declared us very good from the beginning, but who has come to be with us as one of us. We tell a story of a God who loves us so deeply and completely, based on nothing we have done, based on nothing we have earned. Our story is of a God who loves us. Without measurement. Without requirement. Which also means that love, that acceptance, that embrace, is not something we can ever lose. Take a day off, God will still love you. Lose your job, you are still worthy. Close our doors, God still loves us. Our value does not rely on anything we do, and that can be really hard to sit with. Because it means we can’t control it. We can’t say we deserve more than anybody else. Or that we deserve less. It means we are good enough as we are, and always have been, and always will be, because God loves us just as much now as ever, and that love will not fade or waver, ever.

Afraid or curious?

Genesis 18:1-10a
The Lord appeared to Abraham by the oaks of Mamre, as he sat at the entrance of his tent in the heat of the day. He looked up and saw three men standing near him. When he saw them, he ran from the tent entrance to meet them, and bowed down to the ground. He said, “My lord, if I find favor with you, do not pass by your servant. Let a little water be brought, and wash your feet, and rest yourselves under the tree. Let me bring a little bread, that you may refresh yourselves, and after that you may pass on - since you have come to your servant.” So they said, “Do as you have said,” And Abraham hastened into the tend to Sarah, and said, “Make ready quickly three measures of choice flour, knead it, and make cakes.” Abraham ran to the herd, and took a calk, tender and good, and gave it to the servant, who hastened to prepare it.  Then he took curds and milk and the calf that he had prepared, and set it before them; and he stood by them under the tree while they ate. They said to him, “Where is your wife Sara?” And he said, “There, in the tend.” Then one said, “I will surely return to you in due season, and your wife Sarah shall have a son.”

Psalm 15
Lord, who may dwell in your tabernacle? Who may abide upon your holy hill? Those who lead a blameless life and do what is right, who speak the truth from their heart; they do not slander with the tongue, they do no evil to their friends; they do not cast discredit upon a neighbor. In their sight the wicked are rejected, but they honor those who fear the Lord. They have sworn upon their health and do not take back their word. They do not give their money in hope of gain, nor do they take bribes against the innocent. Those who do these things shall never be overthrown.

Colossians 1:15-28
Christ Jesus is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation; for in him all things in heaven and on earth were created, things visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rulers or powers - all things have been created through him and for him. He himself if before all things, and in him all things hold together. He is the head of the body, the church; he is the beginning, the firstborn from the dead, so that he might come to have first place in everything. For in him all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell, and through him God was pleased to reconcile to himself all things, whether on earth or in heaven, by making peace through the blood of his cross. And you who were once estranged and hostile in mind, doing evil deeds, he has now reconciled in his fleshly body through death, so as to present you holy and blameless and irreproachable before him - provided that you continue securely established and steadfast in the faith, without shifting from the hope promised by the gospel that you heard, which has been proclaimed to every creature under heaven. I, Paul, became a servant of this gospel. I am now rejoicing in my sufferings for your sake, and in my flesh I am completing what is lacking in Christ’s afflictions for the sake of his body, that is, the church. I because its servant according to God’s commission that was given to me for you, to make the word of God fully known, the mystery that has been hidden throughout the ages and generations but has now been revealed to his saints. To them God chose to make known how great among the Gentiles are the riches of the glory of this mystery, which is Christ in you, the hope of glory. It is he whom we proclaim, warning everyone and teaching everyone all wisdom, so that we may present everyone mature in Christ.

Luke 10:38-42
Now as they went on their way, he entered a village; and a woman named Martha received him into her house. And she had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord's feet and listened to his teaching. But Martha was distracted with much serving; and she went to him and said, "Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to serve alone? Tell her then to help me." But the Lord answered her, "Martha, Martha, you are worried and distracted by many things; there is need of only one thing. Mary has chosen the better part, which will not be taken away from her.”

*******

The night before my ordination, there were at least a dozen of my friends from seminary all packed together in my parents house for a party. We knew it wouldn't be very likely we could spend time together at the reception, since I'd have to make the rounds from table to table and greet everyone who came from college and high school and other local churches to celebrate, so we decided a night together was the best way to have quality time together. And it was. But it was also a bit overwhelming, and I found myself from time to time retreating to the kitchen and a sink full of dishes, just to catch my breath. I have really amazing friends, and to be together with them all that night was almost too much to handle, thinking of all we had been through together and what was ahead and how far they had traveled to be together. So I remember that night feeling a kinship with Martha, torn between wanting to be really present and wanting to be a good host. And when Jesus came to visit, I wonder if Martha was torn like that, too. We don't know that she was in the kitchen, per se, but she was 'distracted with much serving,' much of the very work of service Jesus had just been commending to his disciples.

It can be a hard balance to strike, between action and contemplation. I remember on internship hearing about a seminarian who was caught in the act of praying for his congregation one day, who was told they weren't paying him to pray and he needed to get up and get back to work. But if we aren't listening to God, holding each other in the Light, as the Quakers say, how do we stay connected reason and power behind our service? Far too often we get overly busy, as though being exhausted earns us a merit badge, and then make the excuse that we are doing God's work, even though we haven't actually talked with God about it. I know I'm guilty of this, expecting pastoral ministry to look a certain way and putting pressure on myself and my calendar to match that expectation, even when the context and needs and gifts call for something different. But when do we stop to listen, to contemplate, to just be with Jesus and let that be enough?

This is one of the reasons I love making hospital visits, believe it or not. Because I am not a medical professional, and there is no place I can be where it is more obvious I cannot fix whatever is broken. All I can do is sit with a person at the hospital. Wait with them. Listen and bear witness to whatever is going on. Watch for God and do the hard work of being present, without being distracted. It's so hard sometimes to be focused like that, without checking my phone or wondering about what I'm going to be late to next, without getting sucked into despair over the headlines or another debate about the value of Pokèmon Go. Because we get distracted with much doing, much busyness, much that is not the relationships in front of us.

This model has done much damage in the world of mission work, too, not just on our personal small scale, but on the bigger scale. Think about the way colonization happens, assimilation, when the ones with power come with an idea of progress and impose it upon another culture, without listening to what the other culture values or where its traditions come from.  Rather than the busyness of tearing down and rebuilding according to their ideals, missionaries do far better to accompany, to walk with, to sit at the feet of Jesus in the midst of a foreign culture and simply learn for a long time before acting. How often do we give ourselves the grace to learn and be curious before we act, or do we feel the pressure to be the expert in the room at all times?

Being busy seems like it holds a lot of power, running from one important thing to the next, but what happens if we stop running? There was a great podcast I heard this week with the author of 'Eat, Pray, Love', Elizabeth Gilbert, where she talked about the paths of fear and curiosity. It seems the sort of anxiety produced in Martha could be read as fear, and Mary's 'better part,' as Jesus called it, would be curiosity. Mary sat at Jesus feet just like any of the male disciples, her curiosity overwhelming the social expectations of patriarchy, and that freedom to be curious, rather than afraid, is another aspect of the kingdom of God. Martha, on the other hand, was so caught up in those social norms that she didn't even ask her sister directly, or not that we are told, but told the man in the house to command her sister to get back to work.

So what is the good news, then, in the middle of this story about an average, typical day in the life of Jesus and his friends? How does this make a difference in our world today, with all of the news of violence and fear circulating in the air? How does it help us clarify what matters, where we can focus and where we can stop to breathe? Is that even a question we should ask when so many people don't have the luxury of taking a day off, let alone a vacation, because they are living paycheck to paycheck, or living on even less? I mean, it's a nice image, and all, to be able to stop and pray, but when you're working multiple jobs just to pay rent, or have to decide week to week between medication and groceries and diapers, this image of sitting at the feet of Jesus is one of those 'I'll sleep when I'm dead' kind of fantasies. But the experience of such poverty is not one I have listened to as deeply as I should, so I cannot say where they are refreshed, though I imagine there are resources there that would surprise us.

Maybe that's why we make ourselves so busy, we who can afford not to be.  Stopping to listen might well mean changing our minds or connecting with somebody we would rather avoid. It might mean feeling a pain we have been running from, or noticing that empty chair, that sense of loneliness. It wasn't until a few weeks after mom's funeral that dad slowed down enough to notice how quiet the house was, and when I went back to visit a month after she died, it was a lot more clear she was gone than it was when everyone was around with casseroles for the visitation. We have a lot of work to do, it's true. Many are hungry, homeless, hopeless, and we can't repair the whole world on our own. But we can sit at the feet of the one who is repairing the world. We can be amazed as Jesus repairs us, and bear witness to where God is repairing the relationships around us.

Even if we only notice in hindsight, because of our many distractions, Jesus is sitting right here among us, at your kitchen table, at the water cooler, on the sidelines of the kids' baseball games. Better to let him refresh us than to pour ourselves out to completely empty, but he will refresh us again and again anyhow. And even when we have given our last bit and have no more to give, remember that Jesus works with all kinds of life, all kinds of people, even the sick and the dead. There is nowhere we can go where Jesus can not love us, nothing we can do that will distract him from accompanying us on our journeys. He is more dedicated to us than the most dedicated Pokèmon Go player, and he has all of eternity to catch us all up in the love that is strong enough to die for us and big enough to live again and again and again.

Samaritan Lives Matter

Luke 10:25-37

Just them a lawyer stood up to test Jesus. “Teacher,” he said, “what must I do to inherit eternal life?” He said to him, “What is written in the law? What do you read there?” He answered, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength, and with all your mind; and your neighbor as yourself.” And he said to him, “You have given the right answer; do this, and you will live.” But wanting to justify himself, he asked Jesus, “And who is my neighbor?” Jesus replied, “A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and fell into the hands of robbers, who stripped him, beat him, and went away, leaving him half dead. Now by chance a priest was going down that road; and when he saw him, he passed by on the other side. So likewise a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side. But a Samaritan while traveling came near him; and when he saw him, he was moved with pity. He went to him and bandaged his wounds, having poured oil and wine on them. Then he put him on his own animal, brought him to an inn, and took care of him. The next day he took out two denarii, gave them to the inn keeper, and said, ‘Take care of him; and who I come back, I will repay you whatever more you spend.’ Which of these three, do you think, was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of the robbers?” He said, “The one who showed him mercy.” Jesus said to him, “Go and do likewise.”

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When I was a camp counselor, one summer we had the chance to teach this parable to elementary school kids, and of course, being at camp, that meant putting on a skit. And in good summer camp fashion, that meant turning the characters into modern day equivalents. The person who was jumped was just a random person, the priest was a character the kids could understand, so was the Levite, being a lawyer, but the Samaritan was a bit harder to put into context. There wasn’t time to explain the history of long relationship between Samaritans and the Jews in Jesus’ audience, so we asked the kids to think of a kind of person nobody wanted to be around. They decided on ‘smelly kid.’ So, the parable of the ‘good smelly kid,’ it was, and we made a skit out of it. It was great fun, except the camper who joyfully volunteered to be the hero of the narrative was then labeled the ‘smelly kid’ for the rest of the week. And even in jest, at that young age, teasing does not make for a fun and wholesome camp experience. But that’s the heart of this story, isn’t it? That the names we call each other, the assumptions, the way we treat each other, make a big difference on how we live in community together, on how we self-segregate.

So I propose another modern reading of this story, in light of recent ongoing events, because we hear this Good Samaritan tale so often I think we have forgotten how difficult it was to hear initially. It might go something like this: A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho. Now, of course, what kind of man do we imagine in that first line? And what difference does it make to how we hear the rest of the story? Was it a white man from a nice suburban neighborhood? Was it a black man from a nice suburban neighborhood? Was it a poor man? A young man? Is this the man we are supposed to identify with? Picture a man traveling by foot along a road alone, who is suddenly attacked - how do you picture the attackers? Pay attention to how you listen to these stories, how you fill in the details that aren’t given. Now, this man has been robbed, stripped, and beats bloody to the point of unconsciousness. He might well be dead, for all appearances.

So we each have our images of the scene so far. Have you ever crossed paths with such a one? Someone who is so beaten down, physically or emotionally or otherwise, who seems at first glance to be beyond all hope of saving? We tend to either pity or avoid suffering, don’t we? There’s a common phrase I hear when somebody ‘out there’ has experienced such suffering: “There but for the grace of God go I.” I tend to think we mean well when we say it, as though reminding ourselves that we are no different from the one who has been beaten bloody, but more often than not it serves only to say that we are somehow more ‘blessed,’ and we keep our distance rather than reaching out in compassion. 

If we’ve not experienced such suffering ourselves, it can be startling to really consider our common humanity, lest we risk losing our own sense of comfort and control. We can respond to suffering by either keeping far away from it, or by working to prevent the suffering of others. Like the priest in the parable today, who kept far away. He had the public and ordained role of caring for the least of these, and yet he avoided that call. Granted, it could have made him ritually unclean if that body on the side of the road had been dead. Maybe the priest was on his way to a very important meeting. Maybe his mind was elsewhere and he didn’t really take in the gravity of the situation. We can make all kinds of excuses for the priest, but in the end, he didn’t stop to help. The priest crossed to the other side of the road, much like we do when we see on the sidewalk somebody who makes us uncomfortable. 

Then came the Levite. We elect political leaders, lawyers and such, to protect us, to uphold the law, to see justice done. But this Levite avoided his responsibility as well. What was going on with him? Did he think that by stopping he would also be at risk of attack? Had he already seen too many of these beatings and thought justice a lost cause? Looking at the news lately, I can understand how many would find the pursuit of justice to feel like a lost cause. And after the shootings in Orlando, I can understand a little of the fear of attack, but only the slightest sense of that fear. Maybe this lawyer had compassion fatigue, was through with trying to save the world. Again, we can make all the excuses, but we will never know, because it’s just a story told to illustrate a point.

So comes the Samaritan. What shall we say for him? I suppose it would depend on the audience who would best fit into his role. Samaritans were not welcome, were not heroes, were not safe. For the Samaritan, stopping most definitely meant risking his safety, he had no recourse to retaliate if those robbers were still around. For the Samaritan, his help might not have even been welcome if the one who had been left for dead had any choice in the matter. Who might that Samaritan be for you? Who is the kind of person who makes you most uncomfortable? Who would you cross the street to avoid? What kind of person would make you so angry you would rather die than accept help from them? Who have you been told your whole life is incapable of compassion?

See, this story is told as an illustration of eternal life. It paints a picture of the way we cut and divide our communities, the way we splinter the Body of Christ, even when we’ve made an ‘ordered’ system for those who are ‘supposed’ to care for others. And in the middle of it, there is mercy. In the midst of life as it is comes compassion from the place we have been taught to least expect it. In the middle of eternal life, at the heart of it, lies the free gift of a God who joins us in our pain, who steps into our hurt, who risks everything to gather us up and carry us to wholeness.

Martin Luther King, Jr. has said that the question of this parable is not “what happens to me if I help the one stranded at the side of the road,” but “what happens to the one who is stranded if I don’t help?” That, my friends, is the question of eternal life. Because we do not need to be afraid for our own survival, we are free to tend to the survival and the full thriving of our neighbors. And who is our neighbor? Anyone who needs mercy, anyone who offers us mercy, everyone to whom God has given life. Because the gift of life eternal is the gift of mercy. It is the mercy which heals the cosmos, which stops the killing, which rebuilds after every tragedy and steps in to bind up the brokenhearted. It is the mercy of eternal life which reveals the Divine Image in every person, which looks at our fractured history and declares with power and compassion that Samaritan lives matter, that female lives matter, that Black lives matter, that homeless lives matter, that mentally ill lives matter, that every marginalized life matters, no matter how we divide and devour one another.

This is how we live into our inheritance. This is the God who loves us, who walks with us, who died and rose again for us. The God of mercy and compassion has formed us all in the Image of mercy and compassion, and we are already walking in the inheritance of life eternal, in the here and now. Thanks be to God.

Holy here and now

Isaiah 66:10-14

Rejoice with Jerusalem, and be glad for her, all you who love her; rejoice with her in joy, all you who mourn over her - that you may nurse and be satisfied from her consoling breast; that you may drink deeply with delight from her glorious bosom. For thus says the LORD: I will extend prosperity to her like a river, and the wealth of the nations like an overflowing stream; and you shall nurse and be carried on her arm, and dandled on her knees. As a mother comforts her child, so I will comfort you; you shall be comforted in Jerusalem. You shall see, and your heart shall rejoice; your bodies shall flourish like the grass; and it shall be known that the hand of the LORD is with his servants, and his indignation is against his enemies. 

Psalm 66:1-9

Be joyful in God, all you lands; be joyful, all the earth. Sing the glory of God’s name; sing the glory of God’s praise. Say to God, “How awesome are your deeds! Because of your great strength your enemies cringe before you. All the earth bows down before you, sings to you, singe out your name.” Come now and see the works of God, how awesome are God’s deeds toward all people. God turned the sea into dry land, so that they went through the water on foot, and there we rejoiced in God. Ruling forever in might, God keeps watch over the nations; let no rebels exalt themselves. Bless our God, you peoples; let the sound of praise be heard. Our God has kept us among the living and has not allowed our feet to slip.

Galatians 6:1-16

My friends, if anyone is detected in an transgression, you who have received the Spirit should restore such a one in a spirit of gentleness. Take care that you yourselves are not tempted. Bear one another’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ. For if those who are nothing think they are something, they deceive themselves. All must test their own work; then that work, rather than their neighbor's work, will become a cause for pride. For all must carry their own loads. Those who are taught the word must share in all good things with their teacher. Do not be deceived; God is not mocked, for you reap whatever you sow. If you sow to your own flesh, you will reap corruption from the flesh; but if you sow to the Spirit, you will reap eternal life from the Spirit. So let us not grow weary in doing what is right, for we will reap at harvest time, if we do not give up. So then, whenever we have an opportunity, let us work for the good of all, and especially for those of the family of faith. See what large letters I make when I am writing in my own hand! It is those who want to make a good showing in the flesh that try to compel you to be circumcised - only that they may not be persecuted for the cross of Christ. Even the circumcised do not themselves obey the law, but they want you to be circumcised so that they may boast about your flesh. May I never boast of anything except the cross o four Lord Jesus Christ, by which the world has been crucified to me, and I to the world. For neither circumcision nor uncircumcision is anything; but a new creation is everything! As for those who will follow this rule - peace be upon them, and mercy, and upon the Israel of God. 

Luke 10:1-11, 16-20

After this the Lord appointed seventy others and sent them on ahead of him in pairs to every town and place where he himself intended to go. He said to them, “The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few; therefore ask the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers into his harvest. Go on your way. See, I am sending you out like lambs into the midst of wolves. Carry no purse, no bag, no sandals; and greet no one on the road. Whatever house you enter, first say, ‘Peace to this house!’ And if anyone is there who shares in peace, your peace will rest on that person; but if not, it will return to you. Remain in the same house, eating and drinking whatever they provide, for the laborer deserves to be paid. Do not move about from house to house. Whenever you enter a town and its people welcome you, eat what is set before you; cure the sick who are there, and say to them, ‘The kingdom of God has come near to you.’ But whenever you enter a town and they do not welcome you, go our into its streets and say, ‘Even the dust of your town that clings to our feet, we wine off in protest against you. Yet know this: the kingdom of God has come near.’” Whoever listens to you listens to me, and whoever rejects you rejects me, and whoever rejects me rejects the one who sent me.” The seventy returned with joy, saying, “Lord, in your name even the demons submit to us!” He said to them, “I watched Satan fall from heaven like a flash of lightning. See, I have given you authority to tread on snakes and scorpions, and over all the power of the enemy; and nothing will hurt you. Nevertheless, do not rejoice at this, that the spirits submit to you, but rejoice that your names are written in heaven.”

*******

While I was still in seminary, one January there was a class trip to the Holy Land for a little less than two weeks’ time. It was, to say the least, intense. We flew into TelAviv, stayed in a kibbutz, stayed in Bethlehem, stayed awhile in Jerusalem, and met all kinds of people: teachers and soldiers and settlers and musicians and priests and storytellers and doctors and other tourists from around the world. There was one group, I think from Nairobi, who was always one step ahead of us on the tours, and another, from somewhere in Ohio, of high schoolers who met us at the Jordan river and asked for help with some baptisms while we were all there together. It was incredible. And it was incredibly heartbreaking. On the bus, our tour guide reminded us of how geographically close the stories in Scripture took place, pointing out the windows in one direction to the general area where Jonah would have walked, and out the windows on the other side of the bus was Jerusalem where Jesus walked. How incredible to imagine living in a place where every day you could point to somewhere you had been as a place where God had done something incredible which is a story still told today, and now told all across the world.

It was heartbreaking, of course, because of all the blood shed over that land. You might think that a place known for holiness would be a place of refuge for all people, as well it should be, but we have been fighting for ownership of gifts freely given for generations. Food, water, soil, livestock, interpersonal relationships, it’s all been twisted into battlegrounds, despite having been created for mutual sustenance of all that lives. And maybe, some think, just maybe if God would show up and do something miraculous we could all get our heads out of the sand and focus more on rebuilding and less on destruction. Then again, I wonder how many want God to show up and wipe out the ‘enemy,’ which is probably a lot more the sort of thing we’ve seen play out through history when we claim to have God on our side during war. 

But the thing about the God we claim is that, even though the stories in the Bible were compiled primarily by those with the power to ignore the oppressed if they so chose, the stories we have in Scripture tell again and again of a God who is on the side of the oppressed, the small, the lost and the lonely, the sick and the scared, the least of these, even the dead. So when we get into this conversation about the kingdom of God, we aren’t talking about a place or a system where the ‘good guys’ beat the ‘bad guys’ according to any one set of narratives. Who the ‘good’ and the ‘bad’ are depends entirely on who is telling the story. When my class in the Holy Land visited the Ibrahim Mosque, there were two tours going on with different tour guides telling different versions of the exact same story - one said there was a hero who stopped a bombing by coming into prayer and shooting a suspect, and the other said there was a tragedy when prayer was disrupted by a terrorist entering their sanctuary and shooting people in worship. Same event, different eyes. And although it might be for the sake of safety, there is very little that feels safe about needing to walk through a metal detector and be treated as a threat on the way into worship.

We know that history is written by the winners, which is why it is important to continue to tell the history of the God we know in Jesus, to remind ourselves of who really wins, of who's kingdom will ultimately have no end. During our class drip, it seemed everyone we met had a different solution to the conflict, and it was really hard not to take sides after meeting the people we met and seeing the way people were taught to hate and fear one another. But one priest in particular, Elias Chacour, was insistent: if you are on the side of the Palestinians, we don’t need  you. If you are on the side of Israel, we don’t need you. If you are on the side of peace, now we can get something done. The disciples Jesus sent out in pairs weren’t sent to bring fire and destruction, weren’t sent to put the fear of God into people, they were sent to find the peacemakers, to heal the sick, and to proclaim the Kingdom of God has come near.  And did you notice? Even if they weren’t welcomed, they were still proclaiming that the kingdom of God has come near.

Because it has. It is near. It is very near. Yes, we hear in the news stories of even more bombings and shootings and corruption and anger and xenophobia, we see images of violence because that’s what sells and that’s what the losing side does when it knows its going to lose. But we are part of the kingdom of God, and the kingdom is not something we find in some heaven lightyears away, it is living here among us, every time we rebuild, each time we offer welcome to the stranger, every sunrise. It is the power of resurrection over death, the power of love over fear, the ultimate victory of creativity over disintegration, of forgiveness over resentment. 

The letter Paul writes to the Galatians, and this is the end of the letter we read today after walking through it each week for the last month and a half, is an encouragement not to get tangled up in some preconceived notion of how we make the kingdom look a certain way. He tells the Galatians not to get overly concerned with how many converts they win, don’t worry about attendance at your gatherings or number of people you can point to as your particular disciples of the true faith, because we can’t boast ourselves about the work we are doing for God, we can only boast that God is working, and tell of the love with which God loves us and all of creation.

This, my friends, is the kingdom of God. It is not something we make happen. It is already all around us, it is already something God has accomplished. We only notice it in the holy places where we live and move and have our being. Which, by the way, is everyplace. We don’t need to go to Palestine or to Israel to find where Jesus walks, where God is active, where the work of peace is the work we are called to. When I came back from those twelve days, back to my apartment in Chicago, after crossing the borders back and forth and hearing about check points and watching soldiers check our passports but not allowing our bus driver to come everywhere with us because of his nationality, I saw those same borders and check points all over the neighborhoods where I lived and worshiped. But the same God who brought grieving families together across those boundaries in the Holy Land  was also there in Chicago. The same God who brought musicians and storytellers together across racial differences in the Holy Land was also living and active where I was in school. The kingdom of God is working towards making a more beautiful work of reconciliation possible, and we get to be part of it, or get to choose not to be, but it is happening all around us. Because that is the nature of the God whom we worship, the one who walks among us and dies with us and for us so we are not ever alone, the one who lives again that we may also cross that final boundary from death into life eternal, even as we are already living in eternity in the here and now.

Thanks be to God.