Sunday, August 23, 2015

Holy food for holy people on a holy journey

Joshua 24:1-2a, 14-18
Then Joshua gathered all the tribes of Israel to Shechem, and summoned the elders, the heads, the judges, and the officers of Israel; and they presented themselves before God. And Joshua said to all the people, “Now therefore revere the LORD, and serve him in sincerity and in faithfulness; put away the gods that your ancestors served beyond the River and in Egypt, and serve the LORD. Now if you are unwilling to serve the LORD, choose this day whom you will serve, whether the gods your ancestors served in the region beyond the River or the gods of the Amorites in whose land you are living; but as for me any my household, we will serve the LORD.” Then the people answered, “Far be it from us that we should forsake the LORD to serve other gods; for it is the LORD our God who brought us and our ancestors up from the land of Egypt, out of the house of slavery, and who did those great signs in our sight. He protected us along all the way that we went, and among all the peoples through whom we passed; and the LORD drove out before us all the peoples, the Amorites who lived in the land. Therefore we also will serve the LORD, for he is our God.”

Psalm 34:15-22
The eyes of the LORD are upon the righteous, and God’s ears are open to their cry. The face of the LORD is against those who do evil, to erase the remembrance of them from the earth. The righteous cry, and the LORD hears them and delivers them from all their troubles. The LORD is near to the brokenhearted and saves those whose spirits are crushed. Many are the troubles of the righteous, but the LORD delivers them from every one. God will keep safe all their bones; not one of them shall be broken. Evil will bring death to the wicked and those who hate the righteous will be punished. O LORD, you redeem the life of your servants, and those who put their trust in you will not be punished.

Ephesians 6:10-20
Be strong in the Lord, and in the strength of his power. Put on the whole armor of God, so that you may be able to stand against the wiles of the devil. For our struggle is not against enemies of blood and flesh, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers of this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places. Therefore take up the whole armor of God, so that you may be able to withstand on that evil day, and having done everything, to stand firm. Stand therefore, and fasten the belt of truth around your waist, and put on the breastplate of righteousness. As shoes for your feet put on whatever will make you ready to proclaim the gospel of peace. With all of these, take the shield of faith, with which you will be able to quench all the flaming arrows of the evil one. Take the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God. Pray in the Spirit at all times in every prayer and supplication. To that end keep alert and always persevere in supplication for all the saints. Pray also for me, so that when I speak, a message may be given to me to make known with boldness the mystery of the gospel, for which I am an ambassador in chains. Pray that I may declare it boldly, as I must speak.

John 5:56-69
Jesus said, “Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood abide in me, and I in them. Just as the living Father sent me, and I live because of the Father, so whoever eats me will live because of me. This is the bread what came down from heaven, not like that which your ancestors ate, and they died. But the one who eats this bread will live forever.” He said these things while he was teaching in the synagogue at Capernaum. When many of his disciples heard it, they said, “This teaching is difficult, who can accept it?” But Jesus, being aware that his disciples were complaining about it, said to them, “Does this offend you? Then what if you were to see the Son of Man ascending to where he was before? It is the spirit that gives life; the flesh is useless. The words that I have spoken to you are spirit and life. But among you there are some who do not believe.” For Jesus knew from the first who were the ones that did not believe, and who was the one that would betray him. And he said, “For this reason I have told you that no one can come to me unless it is granted by the Father.” Because of this many of his disciples turned back and no longer went about with him. So Jesus asked the twelve, “Do you also wish to go away?” Simon Peter answered him, “Lord, to whom can we go? You have the words of eternal life. We have come to believe and know that you are the Holy One of God.”

*******

This is our last week in the sixth chapter of John’s gospel. We’ve been reading through this chapter for over a month! It started in July when we met with our Reformed and Methodist neighbors for worship in the park, and we heard the story about the feeding of the five (or six) thousand. Then every week after Jesus has been going on and on about being the bread of life, telling us to eat his flesh and drink his blood, and now he’s gotten all mystical again, telling the disciples that “it is the spirit that gives life; the flesh is useless.” I thought he just spent a month telling us to eat his flesh, and now flesh is useless?

As the disciples were saying, “This teaching is difficult, who can accept it?”

With his talk of blood and bodies, Jesus probably made a lot of people uncomfortable. But remember what crowds he’s talking to. These people gathered to hear him speak yesterday and were fed this miraculously filling meal of bread and fish. Overnight, the disciples got into a boat and went back to the other side of the sea of Galilee, where Jesus joined them a bit later, walking on water, and in the morning, the crowds couldn’t find him. So they made their way to the other side of the sea, looking for Jesus, who tells them not to work for the food that perishes, but to work for the food that endures for eternal life. And off they go for the next few weeks on this topic of Jesus being the bread of life. The crowds ask him for a sign. He sort of waves at them and goes, “Hello, I’m right here in front of you!” Then they tell him to remember the manna in the wilderness, and of course he knows all about that, since it was his Father who gave it to them. Not to mention that, by the way, it’s been Jesus all along, the bread that came down from heaven! Then some of the locals get all huffy that Jesus is making himself so important when they saw him pick his nose when he was a kid growing up in their village. So Jesus has to go over it all again, that he is the bread that came down from heaven, that they have to drink his blood to have life, that God the Father is the one who sent him to them so that they might have life. And they start to grumble and get uncomfortable, and some of them leave.

Which brings us up to date with how we got to where we are today. So I wonder, are we in it for the show? The feeding of the five (or six) thousand was pretty impressive. Are we in it for the miracles? Or are we following Jesus for the relationship with God that draws us to him? Does it really matter, as long as it gets us to Jesus?

I think this is where Jesus’ talk about the spirit giving life and the flesh counting for nothing really comes from. He’s spent too much time on the importance of eating and drinking for life to just dismiss it out of hand as a zinger for his argument. The crowds kept bringing up the manna in the wilderness, but what did they say about the exodus from Egypt or the journey to the promised land? Did they get too wrapped up in the manna to think about what they were being freed from and fed for?

Sometimes we get this way, too. At summer camp we tend to schedule our daily activities around how to get to the cafeteria for the next meal. While working at Target I can tell when it’s time for a break because I get hungry after about two hours. We scheduled a funeral here two weeks ago around the awareness that folks would be wanting lunch around noon, so if we begin at 11AM, guests don’t get uncomfortable and distracted by their hunger. We have real bodily needs, after all. Being mortal means hunger comes with the territory.

But that’s not all there is to us. That’s not all there is to living the life Jesus came for us to have. We are on the wilderness road to the promised land. Jesus told the disciples that the words he spoke to them are spirit and life, that no one can come to him without the Father’s initiative. It’s the same statement of faith we make now in the creed, when we confess reliance on the Holy Spirit for our faith. Luther reads that portion of our confession to mean that “I cannot by my own reason or strength believe in Christ or come to him, but the Holy Spirit has called me through the Gospel, enlightened me with gifts, and made me holy and kept me in true faith” just as the Spirit does for the whole church.

The same God who has created us, who provides more than enough for life through the whole of creation, created us for more than just existing. Jesus in the flesh lived and died with us for life that is eternal, in the here and now just as much as in the hereafter. We in the self-centeredness of sin have made a world where life has to be earned, or fought for, rather than received as a gift, but Jesus has said over and over again that receiving the gift of life is as basic and simple as eating bread, as uncomplicated and wide open as just believing in him as the one who comes to give us life. 

Too many others promise that they will serve us if only we serve them first, that our lives will be so much better if only we buy their product or try their new program, but, as Peter said in today’s reading, where else can we go for the words of eternal life? No one else but Jesus is the Word made flesh, the bread of life. And we don’t need to do anything for that bread, for that welcome, for that gift of eternal life to be given to us. Now that we have spent so much of our summer in this bread of life chapter, we finally get to the heart of it, that Jesus is himself the Word of eternal life, the Holy One of God, the one who came down from heaven to give life to the world.


This teaching is difficult, but it is so simple. We don’t need to meet any special requirements to be part of God’s eternity. We don’t need to prove our right to be part of the family of of faith. We don’t need to think a certain way or vote a certain way or eat a certain way to belong to the community of Christ. We cannot prove by our behavior or our reasoning that Jesus loves us, because Jesus has already shown that to be true in giving his body and blood for our lives, fully and completely without reservation. Now we get to live with the consequences of life, together with all of creation on this wilderness road to the promised land.

Sunday, August 16, 2015

Blood

Proverbs 9:1-6
Wisdom has built her house, she has hewn her seven pillars. She has slaughtered her animals, she has mixed her wine, she has also set her table. She has sent out her servant-girls, she calls from the highest places in the town, ‘you that are simple, turn in here!’ To those without sense she says, ‘come, eat of my bread and drink of the wine I have mixed. Lay aside immaturity and live, and walk in the way of insight.’

Psalm 34:9-14
Fear the Lord, you saints of the Lord, for those who fear the Lord lack nothing. The lions are in want and suffer hunger, but those who seek the Lord lack nothing that is good. Come, children, and listen to me; I will teach you reverence for the Lord. Who among you takes pleasure in life and desires long life to enjoy prosperity? Keep your tongue from evil and your lips from lying words. Turn from evil and do good; seek peace and pursue it.

Ephesians 5:15-20
Be careful then how you live, not as unwise people but as wise, making the most of the time, because the days are evil. So do not be foolish, but understand what the will of the Lord is. Do not get drunk with wine, for that is debauchery; but be filled with the Spirit, as you sing psalms and hymns and spiritual songs among yourselves, singing and making melody to the Lord in your hearts, giving thanks to God the Father at all times and for everything in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ.

John 6:51-58
Jesus said, “I am the living bread that came down from heaven. Whoever eats of this bread will live forever; and the bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh.” The Jews then disputed among themselves, saying, “How can this man give us his flesh to eat?” So Jesus said to them, “Very truly, I tell you, unless you eat the flesh of the [Son of Man/Human One] and drink his blood, you have no life in you. Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood have eternal life, and I will raise them up on the last day; for my flesh is true food and my blood is true drink. Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood abide in me, and I in them. Just as the living Father sent me, and I live because of the Father, so whoever eats me will live because of me. This is the bread that came down from heaven, not like that which your ancestors ate, and they died. But the one who eats this bread will live forever.”

*******

For a faith that is centered on the Incarnation of God, we don’t tend to deal well with conversations about flesh. More often than not, if we talk about flesh, it’s in contrast to Spirit, as in ‘sins of the flesh,’ and ‘gifts of the Spirit.’  Throughout Paul’s letters he struggles with this relationship, at least in the way he uses his language to talk about new life in Christ, living by the Spirit and putting away the desires of the flesh. We tend to talk of ‘flesh,’ in ‘church-speak,’ as though it is dirty, and we talk about matters of the Spirit in a way that separates the realm of Sunday morning entirely apart from the rest of our week. But we can’t separate the two, as much as we would like to. We bring the cares of the week into Sunday worship, and the actions of worship - forgiveness, prayer, passing peace around - are meant to be lived out in our Monday through Saturday lives. We recognize the language of flesh and spirit being in conflict, the thoughtless things we want to do working against the nature we might call our ‘better selves.’ It’s why we make children do what they don’t want to do even when they whine and complain, because our actions, as they become habit, feed our values, and our values, as they become second nature, inform our actions. But flesh and spirit are not so easily disentangled from each other. If you ever need to take stock of where your values lie, to clarify what you actually value, take a look at your checkbook or credit card spending. There is clear evidence of what Paul calls ‘flesh’ and ‘spirit,’ right there in hard numbers. Even math and money are spiritual.

Sometimes, though, the talk of these either/or experiences can get a bit… theoretical. A bit oversimplified? A bit… distant. So Jesus switches from talking about his body being bread to telling people they need to gnaw on his flesh like a dog with a bone, and that they need to drink his blood, which is the thing which gives a body life. When Jesus tells his listeners to chew on his flesh and drink his blood, he’s making a pretty disgusting statement. Blood is such a mystery to the ancient people, that it’s considered unclean, it’s forbidden stuff, it’s life energy spilled out of the cut throat of the sacrificial animal. It’s blood on Joseph’s coat that his brothers use to convince Jacob that his son was killed. It’s the first plague on Egypt when Moses confronts Pharoah, and the Nile turns to blood, and all the fish die. The blood of Abel cries out to God from the ground after Cain killed him. This is serious stuff, flesh and blood, and it is the Word made flesh who bleeds it into us. 

When we say someone is our blood, we mean we are family, related through birth, connected genetically, and there’s no getting away from that sort of connection.  When we say someone’s behavior is in their blood, it means that is so ingrained no amount of work will change that person. Bloodlines in ruling families are supposed to be kept pure so that power passed down remains in the family line. And then there is the common phrase, “blood is thicker than water,” meaning family ties are deeper and more lasting than any other relationships.

Except, in the blood of Jesus, as we are drawn into the family of faith through baptism, our blood, our personal blood, is not thicker than the waters of baptism, not thicker than the blood of Jesus. No claim on us lasts longer than those baptismal waters and that blood of Christ. Nothing. Not family of origin. Not membership in any club or organization. Not best hopes or worst disasters. Not great achievements or terrible mistakes.

We are a month away from our event responding to the Heroin crisis in our community. Not only does addiction hold sway over people from all walks of life, but when drugs are shared by needles, blood is passed between people, oftentimes carrying viruses, diseases that can easily do as much harm as the effects of the drug on a body. Then in a person’s own body the blood becomes like a poison, and in the community, the illness becomes a social disease typically treated with shame. When the individual body starts to self-destruct, the corporate body, the community, can either succumb to illness and gangrene as it shuns people with illness, or it can pump new lifeblood socially and spiritually through care of those who are sick and struggling.

And, truth be told, we are all sick. Our common illness is bondage to sin, and we cannot free ourselves, and we need a transfusion. Only the Great Physician, the Author of Life, the Word made flesh, can provide the blood required. Only the Creator can bleed enough to answer Abel’s blood crying murder from the ground. Think about it: the first children on this earth, and one brother kills the other out of jealousy, spilling family blood and leaving home. This is the story we tell about the beginning of civilization, Cain abandoning Adam and Eve with the grief of losing not one, but both of their children in a moment of violent anger. The first lesson in humanity’s struggle with our own: take away the blood, take away the life. So Abel’s blood cried out from the ground, and God’s blood cried out in answer from the cross, as it cries out from this Table week after week, day after day, heartbeat by heartbeat.


Because, brothers and sisters, to eat of the flesh of the Son of Humanity, and drink of His Blood, is to receive Christ on a cellular level. As Jesus, the Word made flesh and dwelling among us, has taken our humanity on, even to a cellular level, now the flesh and blood of Christ is alive among us today, walking and breathing and bleeding and blessing. One commentary I read this week said something along the lines of ‘you cannot remove last Tuesday’s lunch from my body any more than you can remove the body and blood of Christ from my body.’  This is our transfusion, our transfiguration, our hope and the promise we are given each time we come hungry to the Table. Jesus Christ, body and blood, flesh and spirit, given and shed, restoring, redeeming, renewing, flowing and pulsing, in and through and for you.

Sunday, August 9, 2015

Bread and Bodies


******

When my mother’s father’s father first landed here in North America, he made his living as a baker. Or so I’m told. The story goes that he would open a bakery, get it going, and sell it so he could open another one, somewhere in Connecticut. Then my grandfather was the breadwinner, rather than the bread baker, through working in a bank in the city. I remember one of the meals mom would make for us, which was often my favorite, was milk-toast, which is, just as it sounds, toasted bread on a plate with milk poured over, often accompanied with a can of peas. I later found out the other meaning of the word milquetoast, being weak sauce, but when I was a picky eater as a kid, this was one of my favorite suppers. And now that I live on my own, I sort of default to cereal for breakfast, sandwiches for lunch, pasta and veggies for dinner. It’s great during running season, all these carbs. I kind of exist on bread and dairy, when I look at my grocery list. I’m trying to add in vegetables more often, and am trying to be more intentional about salads when I have the chance to eat out. I chalk it up to my grandfather’s father. I’m hoping that I might some day have better luck baking bread from scratch that actually turns out to be edible. Lilly is usually first to greet me at the end of the worship service to ask if she can help ‘clean up’ the communion bread that Chet bakes for us. Hard bread and soft cheese is a slice of heaven. Bread fresh out of the oven is one of the best smells on earth. Bread is common to all of humanity, in one form or another depending on the local crops. That’s why it’s a central element to the Sacrament of communion, because it is so very common, so very ordinary, so very basic to survival wherever you go.

But we seem to have this problem of feeding ourselves with food that isn’t bread. I don’t mean gluten intolerance, I mean stuff that’s more chemical than food, I mean food on the run that’s more empty calories than nutrition, I mean food that’s a distraction from whatever else we ought to be dealing with at the moment. Some of you may be following Courtney on Facebook while she does her Beachbody work, posting again and again about making healthy lifestyle choices about food and exercise, measuring progress, being an encouragement to others who want to treat their bodies better. Being a good steward of our bodies, and of the bodies around us and the natural environment that supports life in these bodies, shouldn’t be all that difficult, but we all struggle with it. Whether it’s overeating, wastefulness, violence, sexism, racism, we are all connected by the simple fact that we live in bodies, and when one body hurts we all suffer. A year ago today, the body of Mike Brown was left in the middle of the road for over four hours after he was shot and killed. Female bodies are bought and sold and traded across the globe. Elderly bodies are put into special homes, disabled bodies are treated as inconveniences, young bodies are idolized and pressured into very particular boxes. Black and brown bodies are treated with suspicion and fear. Our bodies and our minds, our emotions and our actions, are too interdependent to try and separate them out. We strike out against other bodies to protect our own bodies, we isolate bodies from each other and we fill our bellies with foods that give us a quick rush but ultimately cannot sustain us and leave us grumpy and hungry again.

Elijah was ready to be done with his own body. He saw terrible abuse of power in his day and he did all he could do to stand up against it, but at the end of the day he was tired, and worn out, and ran away to hole up under a tree and ask for death. Jezebel chases after him to kill him when all he did was call and end to a multi-year drought… and slaughter the priests of Jezebel’s false god, Ba’al. A pretty amazing achievement, yet he still comes away from it feeling like a failure. He does all that God had asked of him, and in return is hunted by the authorities. He would rather die. He tells God as much, as he crawls under a broom tree and goes to sleep, waiting to just die, giving up, throwing in the towel.

But then an angel of God appears and gives him some bread. A warm cake and a jug of water. He eats a bit, then lays back down again… and he just can’t catch a break. The angel is there a second time, with another reminder to eat, to get his strength up for the journey ahead. As though standing up to a king and queen and forty prophets of a false god wasn’t work enough, there’s more ahead for him, and he spends forty days on his way to the mountain of God, Mount Horeb, the mountain where ages ago a bush had caught fire without burning to call Moses into the hard work of standing up to Pharaoh. It’s where Elijah will meet God in a still quiet, a sheer silence. But that is yet to come, Elijah doesn’t know what’s ahead, only that this angel has given him some food to sustain him for the journey. Roused him to move forward when all he wanted to do was die. Intervened in his suicidal thinking and called him into the next big thing, into mentoring the next prophet, Elisha, who will also do great deeds on behalf of the Lord.

That must have been some dense bread to have carried Elijah for 40 days. Though the angel might have been some encouragement, too. Angels usually have to tell people not to be afraid before they say much else. I don’t think Elijah cared enough to be frightened when this angel appeared with bread and water for the journey. He probably wasn’t too overjoyed to be pressed on toward anything else at the moment, either. But God doesn’t promise comfort in this life, only companionship. “Lo, I am with you always, to the end of the age,” is what Jesus says when he finally leaves the disciples after the resurrection. Not “Lo, you will never have trouble.” Not “Lo, you will never again doubt or fear.” Not “Lo, life in this world will be a breeze from here on out.”

And he doesn’t just tell us he will be with us always, he actually lives within us, so that there is no place we can ever find ourselves where he will not be also. Strength for the journey. Bread for 40 days worth of wandering, though we eat of it together every Sunday. Real food for real bodies. Real bread for real life. This isn’t some chemical substitute for food, isn’t some pint of ice cream that covers up the pain of daily tragedies in our lives and in the news. It’s not a private party, either. The Lord of Life comes among us as we live in these bodies and gives us his own body as bread for the journey.

The problem we tend to have with that, though, is that somehow we think we know what his body means. He’s the carpenter’s son, after all. He’s a first century Jew, after all. He’s a single man in his thirties, after all. He’s a nerd about the Scriptures, after all. We see bodies and think we know what goes on in the hearts and minds of the people. We think from looking at a person we can tell what sort of person they are, what they value, what they dream of. I just saw in the news this weekend a great story that Target stores are finally doing away with gendered marketing for toys and children’s bedding. Now instead of putting dinosaurs in the boys aisle and unicorns in the girls aisle, it’s all just generally kids stuff. So a girl who likes robots can have robots and a boy who likes rainbows can have rainbows, without being told from the start that they’re wrong. Kids and parents have been complaining for ages about this false advertising, because it’s ridiculous to look at a kid and tell them that because they have certain DNA they are supposed to like Barbie more than football or can’t play with dolls just because they’re supposed to like Tonka trucks. But we see bodies and think we know hearts. We do it to each other all the time, and we do it to Jesus, too.

Because of his body, Jesus was supposed to eat only at the popular kids’ lunch table. He was supposed to disregard female bodies, poor bodies, sick bodies, and was supposed to hate Roman bodies and other Gentile bodies. He certainly wasn’t supposed to eat bread with obviously hungry bodies. But here’s the thing about Jesus: 100% God, 100% human, his body was made up of the stuff he created all of life with in the first place. God sent manna in the wilderness, sent an angel with sustenance for Elijah, and came to us in a body just like ours to take care of our bodies, to feed us and sustain us, too.

When we eat bread we admit that we cannot live on our own. When we drink we admit that we have need and thirst. We eat to live, because without food our bodies will shut down and die. But our body is most alive when all systems are taken care of, well-connected, supported and well rested, on the larger scale of community life together. One body alone cannot survive. The letter to the Ephesians reminds us today: we are members of each other. Christ Jesus is the food that runs in our veins, the true bread from heaven that gives life to the body, the friend and companion who walks beside us and gives us strength for the work ahead of us, the one who breaks the boxes of our expectations and gives us the room and freedom to grow in new life together. We need this bread, this life, this gift, and Jesus is this bread, this life, this gift, broken and poured out for you, for every body, for the life of the whole world.


Thanks be to God.

Sunday, July 26, 2015

Not for nothing

John 6:1-21
Some time after this, Jesus crossed to the far shore of the sea of Galilee, that is the sea of Tiberius, and a great crowd of people followed him because they saw the signs he had performed by healing the sick. Then, Jesus went up on a mountainside and sat down with his disciples. The Jewish Passover festival was near, and when Jesus looked up and saw a great crowd coming toward him, he said to Philip, “Where shall we buy bread for these people to eat?” He asked this only to test him, for he already had in mind what he was going to do. Philip answered him, “It would take almost a year’s wages to buy enough bread for everyone to have a bite.” Another of his disciples, Andrew, Simon Peter’s brother, spoke up, “Here’s a boy with five small barley loaves and two small fish! But how far will they go among so many?” Jesus said, “Have the people sit down.” There was plenty of grass in that place, and they sat down. About 5,000 men were there. Jesus then took the loaves, gave thanks, and distributed to those who were seated, as much as they wanted. He did the same with the fish. When they had all had enough to eat, he said to his disciples, “Gather the pieces that are left over. Let nothing be wasted.” So they gathered them, and filled twelve baskets with the pieces of the five barley loaves left over by those who had eaten. After the people saw the sign Jesus performed, they began to say, “Surely this is the prophet who is to come into the world.” Jesus, knowing that they intended to come and make him king by force, withdrew again to a mountain by himself.
When evening came, his disciples went down to the lake, where they got into a boat, and set off across the lake for Capernaum. By now, it was dark, and Jesus had not yet joined them. Strong wind was blowing and the waters grew rough. When they had rowed about three or four miles, they saw Jesus approaching the boat, walking on the water, and they were frightened. But he said to them, “It is I, don’t be afraid.” Then they were willing to take him into the boat. And immediately the boat reached the shore to which they were going.

********

When the Gospel writers set down stories with ink on parchment, not a word was wasted. So I have to wonder why John included the detail that the Passover of the Jews was near. John’s Gospel takes place over the course of three Passovers. The first time, Jesus is in the temple and knocks over the tables of those selling sacrificial animals, when he also says that thing about ‘destroy this temple and in three days I will raise it up again,’ meaning, of course, his body. Now, this second time, he is feeding no less than five thousand men (not counting women and children), and the third and final time is the Passover where he himself is the sacrifice which feeds the world.

It’s the identifying story of the Jewish people that is told year after year at the Passover. The story of God liberating God’s people from the slavery they suffered at the hands of Egypt. Slavery they ended up in because one of their own, Joseph, of the amazingly colorful coat, interpreted the dreams of Pharaoh and set aside enough food for seven years to survive the next seven, despite terrible famine. Joseph had been a national hero, but the memory of Pharaohs is short, and the next one to come forgot that he owed his life to the ingenuity of a Jewish man, so the Jews were put to harder labor, and Pharaoh attempted to have them killed off as they were born, until God saved them.

The problem with the power of Pharaoh was that he controlled the bread. That’s what most wars are about, anyway, who gets to control the food, which is the stuff that supports life. Joseph had helped them save up enough food to survive, but then they forgot where their food came from and despised the very people who required the same bread they did.

Which is why I find Jesus’ first question here a bit tricky: Where are we to buy bread enough for the people to eat? When have we ever heard Jesus worry about money? He sure talks a lot about the misuses and abuses of it, preaches about the dangers of loving money more than people, but he has never asked his disciples where they will buy medicine to heal the sick, so what about this question about buying enough bread?

He asks the question, but he knows already what he will do, right? So Andrew, Simon Peter’s brother, pipes up with an idea: There is a boy here with some bread and fish. A kid. With a snack pack his mom sent him with for lunch. How far will that go among this crowd of thousands?

But no gift is too small for God to work with. One of the preachers at this past week’s worship jubilee reminded us that, really, the disciples had nothing to offer, and that since God created the world out of nothing, it was just right. God can work with nothing. All the people had was hunger. God can work with that.

And it’s true. God can and does work with our nothing, work with our hunger, work with and in and through us in all of our loss and lack, despite our best intentions. When we were slaves in Egypt, we had nothing, we could do nothing about our slavery, we were treated by Pharaoh as though we were worth nothing but cheap labor, and God brought us out of slavery into freedom. The abundance of Passover came out of nothing. We had been worked so hard by our taskmasters in Egypt we had not even the strength to stand up for ourselves, and God fed us and freed us and formed us in the wilderness.

And that’s not for nothing, either.


<this is a portion of the whole, since worship today is ecumenical and the preaching is shared between myself and the Methodist pastor.>

Sunday, July 19, 2015

waiting in an airport

I'm en route to an Atlanta, GA worship gathering on behalf of my synod, and the pilot got sick, so we have an extra long layover before we've even begun. Figured that means it's as good a time as any to blog a bit of thoughts on this morning's readings, even though I won't be preaching (though if I'd known the pilot was going to be ill, I could have still made it work. Oh, well, y'all got to hear another preacher in the pulpit if you made it to worship this morning.)
So, here below is one of the three assigned texts, followed by some thoughts form my tired brain:

Ephesians 2:11-22 (ESV)
Therefore remember that at one time you Gentiles in the flesh, called ‘the uncircumcision’ by what is called the circumcision, which is made in the flesh by hands - remember that you were at that time separated from Christ, estranged from the commonwealth of Israel and strangers to the covenants of promise, having no hope and without God in the world. But now in Christ Jesus you who once were far off have been brought near (made ready? check the Greek) by the blood of Christ. For he himself is our peace, who has made us both one and has broken down in his flesh the dividing wall of hostility by abolishing the law of commandments expressed in ordinances, that he might create in himself one new person in place of the two, so making peace, and might reconcile us both to God in one body through the cross, thereby killing the hostility. And he came and preached peace to you who were far off and peace to those who were near. For through him we both have access in one Spirit to the Father. So then you are no longer strangers and aliens, but you are fellow citizens with the saints and members of the household of God, built on the foundation of the apostles and prophets, Christ Jesus himself being the cornerstone, in whom the whole structure, being joined together, grows into a holy temple in the Lord. In him you also are being built together into a dwelling place for God by the Spirit.

*******

Re-membering. It’s a common theme in Scripture. We ask God to remember us. We are commanded to ‘do this to remember me.’ In this Sunday’s reading from Paul’s letter to the Ephesians we are told to remember that we were once not part of this community of faith, that we once did not belong, that we once, like our Jewish ancestors, were a wandering people. Maybe not wandering in a physical wilderness, certainly we have been settled long enough to feel we belong to where we are, and where we are belongs to us, but wandering on a search for meaning and belonging and purpose and a reason greater than ourselves, no?

I have a friend who recently posted very publicly on Facebook that, having looked at the requirements and realities, she can no longer call herself a Christian because she can never live up to the example of Jesus. She knows that Jesus loves her and that God is great, and at the same time she knows she will never be good enough, will never stop making mistakes, will never live a life that follows the example of Jesus as she should. So she does not want to lie by calling herself a Christian if she will not be able to live up to the standards of Christ. (She makes a good Lutheran in that way.) A far better response, thoughtful and honest, than entitlement and hypocrisy, which tends to be the modus operandi of so many who call themselves Christian these days while ignoring or directly contradicting the teachings of Jesus entirely. 

I have an education because my parents worked hard and saved money and invested, and because they are white they got a home loan for a nicer neighborhood without any flack from the lenders. It’s a combination of luck, entitlement, history, effort, and debt, that landed me where I am. If I forget what it took to get me here, not only is that a slap in the face of my second-generation immigrant grandparents who left everything, including their homeland, home culture, and first language (speaking German during the war was such a shameful thing), but it denies me my own heritage and leaves me without roots. If I forget what it took to get me here, and assume life owes me something just for showing up, then I’ve sorely missed the point, painfully missed reality, and completely bought into the lie that I deserve what I have ‘just because.’ I was one of those smart kids in school for whom good grades were easy - when classes were challenging, I enjoyed them more, but then if I didn’t get an ‘A’ I felt like a failure, and it took a long time to get into my head the idea that school was supposed to take work, and that it was okay to try and fail and get up again.

How easily we forget where we came from when we don’t have to struggle so hard to get where we want to be! I don’t like to harp on the Law, on the ways we fall short of God’s ideals for this world, because I think we know well when we hurt others or are hurt ourselves, but I think we still forget how connected we are to one another, how reflexively we fall back on Cain’s question to God, “Am I my brother’s keeper?” But if we don’t realize the Law, how can we know the sweetness of the Gospel? How can we understand how much has been given to us freely unless we remember how little we deserve it? I remember being on a traveling youth ministry music tour when I forgot at one of our sites to pick up all the prepaid phone cards which had been given to our team, so we got to the next location and none of us had the minutes we had waited and asked for, so nobody could call home (this was just a few years before everybody had cell phones - we had one phone for the six-person team). And yet, when it came time to hand out minutes at the next location after all was said and done, I was not punished as I thought I deserved, but we stayed on schedule for who got minutes next. It was pure grace, complete gift, undeserved. A minor thing, to be sure, but to be aware of it was pretty major, especially since I didn’t always get along well with everyone on that team.


Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return. Remember that you once wandered in the wilderness. Remember that you are not your own. Remember that you are not the center of the universe. Remember that you are loved in a way that you can never deserve, or earn, which means also you are loved in a way that you can never lose. Remember that this life is a gift. Remember that the life of the person next to you is also a gift. Remember and be re-membered, be put back together again, be restored to wholeness by being restored to community with your neighbors like grains of wheat scattered in a field, grown, and gathered up again to make the bread we share. Remember that it was life and blood and flesh and death and resurrection that made this all possible. Remember that it was for you, but not only you. Remember, and rejoice.

Sunday, July 12, 2015

Power

Amos 7:7-15
This is what he showed me: the LORD was standing beside a wall built with a plumb line, with a plumb line in his hand. And the LORD said to me, “Amos, what do you see?” And I said, “A plumb line.” Then the LORD said, “See, I am setting a plumb line in the midst of my people Israel; I will never again pass them by; the high places of Isaac chalk be made desolate, and the sanctuaries of Israel shall be laid waste, and I will rise against the house of Jeroboam with the sword.” Then Amaziah, the priest of Bethel, sent to King Jeroboam of Israel, saying, “Amos has conspired against you in the very center of the house of Israel; the land is not able to bear all his words. For thus Amos has said, ‘ Jeroboam shall die by the sword, and Israel must go into exile away from his land.’” And Amaziah said to Amos, “O seer, go, flee away to the land of Judah, earn your bread there, and prophesy there; but never again prophesy at Bethel, for it is the king’s sanctuary, and it is a temple of the kingdom.” Then Amos answered Amaziah, “I am no prophet, nor a prophet’s son; but I am a herdsman, and a dresser of sycamore trees, and the LORD took me from following the flock, and the LORD said to me, ‘Go, prophesy to my people Israel.’

Psalm 85:8-13
I will listen to what the LORD God is saying; for you speak peace to your faithful people and to those who turn their hearts to you. Truly, your salvation is very near to those who fear you, that your glory may dwell in our land. Steadfast love and faithfulness have met together; righteousness and peace have kissed each other. Faithfulness shall prong up from the earth, and righteousness shall look down from heaven. The LORD will indeed grant prosperity, and our land will yield its increase. Righteousness shall go before the LORD and shall prepare for God a pathway.

Ephesians 1:3-14
Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us in Christ with every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places, just as he chose us in Christ before the foundation of the world to be holy and blameless before him in love. He destined us for adoption as his children through Jesus Christ, according to the good pleasure of his will, to the praise of his glorious grace that he freely bestowed on us in the Beloved. In him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of our trespasses, according to the riches of his grace that he lavished on us. With all wisdom and insight he has made known to us the mystery of his will, according to his good pleasure that he set forth in Christ, as a plan for the fullness of time, to gather up all things in him, things in heaven and things on earth. In Christ we have also obtained an inheritance, having been destined according to the purpose of him ho accomplished all things according to his counsel and will, so that we, who were the first to set our hope on Christ, might live for the praise of his glory. In him you also, when you had heard the word of truth, the gospel of your salvation, and had believed in him, were marked with the seal of the promised Holy Spirit; this is the pledge of our inheritance toward redemption as God’s own people, to the praise of his glory.

Mark 6:14-29
...King Herod heard of it, for Jesus’ name had become known. Some were saying, “John the baptizer has been raised from the dead; and for this reason these powers are at work in him.” But others said, “It is Elijah.” And others said, “It is a prophet, like one of the prophets of old.” But when Herod heard of it, he said, “John, whom I beheaded, has been raised.” For Herod himself had sent men who arrested John, bound him, and pout him in prison on account of Herodias, his brother Philip’s wife, because Herod had married her. For John had been telling Herod, “It is not lawful for you to have your brother’s wife.  And Herodias had a grudge against him, and wanted to kill him. But she could not, for Herod feared John, knowing that he was a righteous and holy man, and he protected him. When he heard him, he was greatly perplexed; and  and yet he liked to listen to him. But an opportunity came when Herod on his birthday gave a banquet for his courtiers and officers and for the leaders of Galilee. When his daughter Herodias came in and danced, she pleased Herod and his guests and the king sad to the girl, “Ask me for whatever you wish, and I will give it.” And he solemnly swore to her, “Whatever you ask me, I will give you, even half of my kingdom. “ She went out and said to her mother, “What should I ask for?” She replied, “The head of John the baptizer.” Immediately she rushed back to the king and requested, “I want you to give me at once the head of John the Baptizer on a platter.” The king was deeply grieved; yet out of regard for his oaths and for the guests, he did not want to refuse her. Immediately the king sent a soldier of the guard with orders to bring John’s head. He went and beheaded him in the prison, brought his head on a platter, and gave it to the girl. Then the girl gave it to her mother. When his disciples heard about it, they came and took his body, and laid it in a tomb.

*******
Herod thought, “John, whom I beheaded, has been raised.” Then he thinks back to the last time he saw John alive. It was a party for his birthday, when he was manipulated into killing someone he considered more a curiosity than a threat. Or, at least, that’s the way he remembers it. John Baptizer had never been one to beat around the bush in matters of religious law, and even though Herod had the power to do whatever he wanted, to and with whomever he wanted, Herod’s sister-in-law-made-wife did not appreciate having her adultery pointed out so publicly, and you know how miserable life can be when someone is very determined to get their own way at any cost, so Herodias badgered Herod into arresting John. It was as close as she could come to getting him completely shut up. Herod knew there was something to John’s teaching, something of the prophetic, something which hearkened back to his own spiritual roots, though Herod had long since covered up those roots with bending to the political powers and authorities that occupied Israel in those day. After all, he had to save his own skin somehow, and he was probably at least not a completely bumbling idiot to be ruling as he was. Not completely, but, it seems, pretty near to that line of powerfully incompetent.

What a dangerous combination, power and fear. Herod, as one commentary puts it, would rather kill an innocent man than be embarrassed in front of his party guests. Who wants a leader who is so easily manipulated? And yet when it comes to the ways we come to power, who doesn’t have their attention pulled in a dozen different ways by financial and media backers these days? Can’t make everyone happy, and you can’t hold onto power if everyone is miserable. Or at least not if the really powerful people pulling the strings don’t like what you’re doing. Herod is just one example among many, ancient and contemporary, of someone who does not really understand their power.

So here we come again to the problem of the power of white supremacy. Or maybe we put it as the power of classism. Or sexism. Did you see the cover of the Chronicle? A guy asks a woman for a dollar and she gives him seventy-seven cents, because that’s ‘a woman’s dollar.’ Anyone who thinks Christians are being persecuted in this country needs only walk into Rite Aid and find all the Scripture references and Christian kitsch on plastic garden decor to know we are still the dominant power here. I’m pretty certain there isn’t a box store or major chain company selling mass quantities of Muslim or Hindu or atheist inspirational poetry in the same way we sell Christian-sounding paraphernalia. We have a LOT of power. Sure, there are ways we don’t have ALL the power, but even the comic books know that power carries responsibility, and far too often those with power would rather misuse it than lose it. How often, for example, are bullies just kids who are themselves bullied? How often do people work their way up the ladder only to squash everyone they left behind in the dust, even if they got where they are because of a family friend or because they were born into a higher economic class? Not saying that people don’t work hard to get where they are, but have you noticed how many people do the majority of the grunt work without a living wage?

Power. We don’t want to give it up when we have it, we want it used in our own self-interest, and we are so terrified that someone else might use their power against us, especially if we’ve ever ignored them or misused them.

Herod had power, but so did John. One was political and economic, the other was charismatic and focused. John stuck to his mission when his life was threatened, Herod caved to the pressure of his party guests and an outrageous promise he made to a little girl. Herod could have easily told her that her request was absurd and dismissed her as a foolish child. He could have easily reminded her who the king really was and yet he valued life so carelessly. John could have kept his head down and let Herod alone with his very public disregard for righteousness. John could have done a dozen other things that weren’t preaching repentance in a time and a place where people were being oppressed. Herod was a pawn, and John was a tool. But John was a tool in the hand of God, where Herod was a pawn in Rome’s game of world domination.

There’s something here about the first time we are introduced to John the Baptist. And the way Herod thinks the things Jesus and his disciples are up to must mean they are from John’s ministry - which, properly speaking, they are. The ongoing work of Jesus’ disciples flows from preaching repentance, turning around. Re-orienting to the ways of God and away from the ways of the world. It’s what the disciples did when they dropped everything to follow Jesus. Repentance is key to renewal and reconciliation. John’s baptism ministry, preparing the way of the coming Lord, centered on preaching repentance. If John was going to come back from the dead and haunt Herod, if would sure be with the same message he first preached while living.

The thing about Herod’s fear of being haunted, though, there’s something in that. It speaks to our misuse of power most clearly. Why would we be afraid of what the dead could do to us if we treated them right while they were alive? Why would it matter that we can’t kill ghosts if those ghosts had no reason to hold a grudge against us? I mean, speaking from a mythical standpoint here, everyone has their own opinions about ghosts and hauntings, but the concept, at least, has something to it, right? So what if John comes back to haunt Herod? Is Herod really going to change his ways?

So maybe the real question is, how is Jesus haunting us today? Take a minute to consider this: John’s being beheaded because of his religious threat to the political powers that be is a foreshadowing of the way Jesus will be killed by a sort of mob mentality, as though to silence his one single voice in death will completely silence all who have every learned from him or been transformed by him. Even if Jesus had stayed dead, his followers were as diverse then as they are now, with all sorts of interpretations about what he means for the state of things in this world and the next. Then you consider what it means that Jesus, in fact, did not stay dead, but rose from the grave and can now walk through walls, and blinded Saul on the road to Damascus, and bring about a miraculous catch of fish for professional fishermen who caught nothing all night long?

Power that trumps even death is pretty much the end-all, be-all, after all. And God uses power not to destroy forever, the way Herod might do without even thinking, but to raise up new life where none had been expected. The prophet Amos says clearly at the end of this morning’s reading: I am not a prophet, don’t even have family who are prophets, I’m just a herdsman and a dresser of sycamore trees, yet God has given me words to prophesy to you. There goes God using power to bring a nobody from no place into a position of leadership and proclamation where he ought not have had a role otherwise. And for we ourselves: Adoption, Redemption, Forgiveness, Inheritance. God uses power not to exclude but to include. Not to threaten with death, but to destroy death itself. Not to throw life away but to lift it up until it sprouts forth from every dead crevice still considered long barren. Jesus is alive again, raised from the dead, and death no longer has the power it once had over us. Death can no longer ever again have the last word. Anything that leads to death can not any longer have the last word or threat of power held over us - addiction, violence, fear, hunger, divorce, poverty, sexism, racism, these painful realities, even pain itself, are not any more powerful over us, or in us, than they are permanent.  As the dancers at yesterday’s picnic danced to the gospel song: There is power in the name of Jesus to break every chain, break every chain, break EVERY chain.

Herod may have been a pawn, but God did not let his fear have the last word for his people. John was gruesomely beheaded, as cheaply as anything, but God did not let the sword have the last say about John’s influence in the world. Jesus himself, God enfleshed, bore the weight of our fear and isolation and misused power and misdirected mob mentality, and he let it crush him to further the power of God’s incredible love across the whole wide earth. His single-hearted, focused and clear purpose to love was power enough, because Jesus was not John the Baptizer come back from the dead. Jesus was not Elijah the prophet coming as forerunner. Jesus was not a celebrity or only a great teacher, but God with skin on, God among us, God suffering alongside us and bleeding with us and reaching out wide to gather us in from all corners of the earth, that we, too, might live in that mighty power of reconciliation and love and gratitude and everlasting life.

Everlasting life! How about that? What kind of power do we have now that death has no more power over us? How are we living out of that power of the love which consumes and renews all other loves? Where will your power, your freedom, play out in the days and weeks to come, not only in this summer in Chatham, but across your vacation travels, in your workplace, where you take your rest? How does God living within you come across differently when you can act freely, without fear of judgment or of death, because of the love which carries all of our loves through death and on out the other side? Where will your power set someone else free this week, I wonder? In the way we welcomed so many to the tag sale this weekend, we shared our power. In the work of rebuilding our front steps so access here is safer for all who wish to find sanctuary, we share that power. In connecting with our ecumenical partners, other neighbor churches, through our village and across Columbia county, we are lifted up by the power above all, when love and truth are met, when righteousness and peace kiss each other.


The power of Jesus the Christ, alive again to die no more, dead once to bring us all through death and into new life, that power is new life for the world. All of it. The whole world. Love that knows not bounds or limits, that has been rejected but never rejects, that sings new life in the face of silent death and whispers peace in the heart of every fighter who serves in time of conflict. Herod only pretends at power, and makes a mess of it. John knew true power, and was not afraid to speak truth to earthly power. Jesus is the power of love and reconciliation and life, the power in which we live, and move, and have our being.

Sunday, July 5, 2015

Reputations and Freedom

Ezekiel 2:1-5
God said to me: “O mortal, stand up on your feet, and I will speak with you.” And when he spoke to me, a spirit entered into me and set me on my feet; and I heard him speaking to me. He said to me, “Mortal, I am sending you to the people of Israel, to a nation of rebels who have rebelled against me; they and their ancestors have transgressed against me to this very day. The descendants are impudent and stubborn. I am sending you to them, and you shall say to them, “Thus says the Lord God.” Whether they hear or refuse to hear (for they are a rebellious house), they shall know that there has been a prophet among them.”

Psalm 123
To you I lift up my eyes, to you enthroned in the heavens. As the eyes of servants look to the hand of their masters, and the eyes of a maid to the hand of her mistress, so our eyes look to you, O Lord our God, until you show us your mercy. Have mercy upon us, O Lord, have mercy, for we have had more than enough of contempt, too much of the scorn of the indolent rich, and of the derision of the proud.

2 Corinthians 12:2-10
I know a man in Christ who was for ten years ago caught up to the third heaven -whether in the body or out of it I do not know, God knows. And I know that this man was caught up into paradise -whether in the body or out of the body I do not know, God knows - and he heard things that cannot be told, which man may not utter. On behalf of this man I will boast, but on my own behalf I will not boast, except of my weaknesses. Though if I should wish to boast, I would not be a fool, for I would be speaking the truth. But I refrain from it, so that no one may think more of me than he sees in me or hears from me. So to keep me from becoming conceited because of the surpassing greatness of the revelations, a thorn was given me in the flesh, a messenger of Satan to harass me, to keep me from becoming conceited. Three times I pleaded with the Lord about this, that it should leave me. But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong.

Mark 6:1-13
He went away from there and came to his hometown, and his disciples followed him. And on the Sabbath he began to teach in the synagogue, and many who heard him were astonished, saying, “Where did this man get these things? What is the wisdom given to him? How are such mighty works done by his hands? Is not this the carpenter, the son of Mary and the bother of James and Joses and Judas and Simon? And are not his sisters here with us?” And they took offense at him. And Jesus said to them, “A prophet is not without honor, except in his hometown and among his relatives and in his own household. And he could do no mighty work there, except that he laid his hands on a few sick people and healed them. And he marveled because of their unbelief. And he went about among the villages teaching. And he called the twelve and began to send them out two by two, and gave them authority over the unclean spirits. He charged them to take nothing for their journey except a staff - no bread, no bag, no money in their belts - but to wear sandals and not put on two tunics. And he said to them, “Whenever you enter a house, stay there until you depart from there. And if any place will not receive you, and they will not listen to you, when you leave, shake off the dust that is on your feet as a testimony against them.” So they went out and proclaimed that people should repent. And they cast out many demons and anointed with oil many who were sick and healed them.

***

This past week I spent six days at Vanderkamp for the Hudson/Mohawk Conference's Annual Senior High summer camp. We got together the same time as the confirmation camp, which was a lot of high-energy fun, and while the junior high students spent the week with their leaders learning about the liturgical year, we spent our week with the high schoolers talking about hard conversations and how to handle a variety of expectations from family, friends, school, and self. We talked about big issues like racism, and about personal struggles like living with divorced parents. It was a heavy week, and full of fun and tears. 

I wonder what Jesus would have been like as a teen at this sort of camp week. Day after day sharing what it’s like to be Joseph’s step-son, Mary’s illegitimate kid. Was he teased for not knowing really who his father was? Had he been picked on for being non-violent while the other kids got into scuffles? Was he incredibly sensitive or one of a crowd of troublemakers? We don’t have those stories in our scriptures, but we do have the story today of what it was like when he went back home to those people who saw him grow up, when he tried to work with the people who had known him as a kid, when their limited imaginations about who he might grow up to be got in the way of their knowing him as he was. It’s a common thing, to think we know all there is to other people out of one or two experiences, or only a small handful of favorite stories. We do the same thing over and over when it comes to being in relationship with God, too.

But then he sends out his disciples, a relatively unknown bunch of folks who have no widely-known reputations to speak of, no credentials, no extra bags, or bread, or money, only the gift of each other and the authority to cast out unclean spirits. These wandering pairs - I imagine them looking a bit like Mormon door-to-door missionaries in dirty old tunics - “cast out many demons and anointed with oil many who were sick and healed them.” They were completely dependent on the hospitality of those whose towns they entered. For all appearances, they were powerless, yet they had been given the command to go, and so they went. They had walked with Jesus and saw what he did, they also saw him rejected in his own hometown, and Jesus passed the baton on to them for picking up the work he was doing. Because the work to be done was more important than his reputation.

What kind of reputation does the church have these days, I wonder? What sort of expectations? I met a woman a couple of weeks ago and in letting her know I’m part of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America, she got caught up on that first word: “Evangelical.” She saw my piercings and tattoos and heard me talk about Grace, and then was really confused that I consider myself to be evangelical, because there is a different sort of reputation that comes with that label now than when we first picked it up. It’s a sad day when we have to say ‘our church is different because it welcomes all sorts of people,’ because that implies there are churches that don’t do that. But what is the church if not sanctuary? What is the church if not hospitality and welcome? That was one of the constant themes of Senior High Camp this past week, that the kids from all over the map - kids into sports, kids into Dungeons and Dragons, kids into fashion, kids into music, kids into complicated mathematical equations and magic tricks… - kids from all sorts of groups were able to be themselves together and be celebrated for who they are. And we kept reminding them, that this is what camp is about. But it’s bigger than camp. Just like it’s bigger than our congregation here. Just like it’s bigger than this fourth of July holiday weekend.

We’ve got a great American dream to celebrate, a theme of freedom to embrace, but it’s far bigger than just what’s here on our shores. America has all sorts of reputations, depending on where you are and who you ask, but on the 4th of July we focus on that stand we took over two hundred years ago, that official document proclaiming “all men are created equal,” though it did not free the slaves. A document which in effect would have had all of us hanged for treason if our Revolution had not ended the way that it did. It was huge, it was risky, it was flawed because people built it. The Declaration of Independence still set forth a precedent for breaking away from abuses of power. 

To quote: “…all experience hath shewn, that mankind are more disposed to suffer, while evils are sufferable, than to right themselves by abolishing the forms to which they are accustomed. But when a long train of abuses and usurpations, pursuing invariably the same Object evinces a design to reduce them under absolute Despotism, it is their right, it is their duty, to throw off such Government, and to provide new Guards for their future security.”  

Then the Declaration goes on to list the grievances against King George, which are many, and some of which sound a lot like grievances minorities have voiced among us lately. We wrote a good document, we got off to a rocky start, we’re still struggling to live up to the ideals which led us to fight for a separation in the first place, but even this great experiment is too small.

“Liberty and Justice for all” is supposed to mean for all, but we get mixed up, we get scared, we get hurt and hurt others in return, both on a personal level and on a bigger scale. It’s a wonderful dream, this freedom, and a lot of people have sacrificed their lives for it, but it’s not going to be finally accomplished by our own power and reputation. We take steps, forward and back, to work for it the best we know how, and we are still learning, still moving, still working, to realize what freedom really can be when it is truly freedom for all. Some of us do that by serving in the military. Some of us do that by working in education or by volunteering at the food pantry. 

But here’s the tricky part: freedom for all means even freedom for our enemies. We cannot live in a free world if we continue to kill and oppress and fear one another. This is where God’s reputation hangs on the line. In God’s everlasting kingdom, the last enemy to be destroyed is death itself. But death is the threat we hold over one another’s heads, isn’t it? Death is the thing that we use to finalize punishment on those we deem worst sinners of all. Death is the threat that pushes us to our limits when we get cornered. Death is common to all that lives, yet we do celebrate our national heroes in song when we claim that they “loved liberty more than life,” and that, my friends, that is the freedom of which we sing when we sing of Jesus. Liberty and Justice for each and every living being, freedom and life for every plant, tree, bird, and person who has ever lived. 

There has too long been this false reputation for God, that God is somehow always only angry and demanding and vengeful, and when it comes to injustice that is exactly the image the prophets conjure up. When it comes to seeing creation destroying itself over wealth and honor and consumerism, that is exactly the way we must learn to hear God railing against the powers of destruction and slavery. But when it comes to loving this world, in all of its shattered state, our God would rather die than kill. That is made most clear on the cross, where Jesus, who is our God in flesh, submits to our punishments, so that we can see what kind of world we are making. Once that door is open, once that death has dissolved into life, once we are honest about our failures, healing can begin, freedom can begin.

As the apostle Paul wrote in this morning’s reading: “God said to me “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong.” It is true for all of us. Every fear, every weakness, is what we celebrate when we celebrate true freedom. Because those things are no longer held over us, no longer threats to our well-bring, but embraced as places of grace, as the coming of God’s kingdom among us.


Our community, then, is made a place of honesty and healing. Our church, then, is a community of welcome and embrace. Our children are celebrated and encouraged as they explore and discover who God has created them to be. Our own struggles are caught up in the new covenant with a God who has broken our expectations and brought life out of death, wholeness out of pain, who is with us every step along the way, no matter where our lives may take us.