This our hymn of grateful praise.

Billman, Kathleen

October 5, 2014, Proper 22--Thanksgiving

I grew up with the hymn "For the Beauty of the Earth," where every verse opened with gratitude for something precious about this earthly life and the chorus ended with raising to God "this our hymn of grateful praise" (I like the old word, "hymn," better than "sacrifice"). This edition of Preaching Helps finds us still in harvest season, as well as the waning days of the church year. It seems like a perfect season and set of texts for this particular issue of Currents in Theology and Mission, whose essays have been offered in a spirit of gratitude and joy for Phyllis Anderson, who recently retired from her position as president of Pacific Lutheran Theological Seminary. Gratitude for her ministry in many places and with so many people shines through all the appreciative essays that lift up and celebrate the gift of theological education.

May this celebratory issue remind us that today is the day to say thank you ... today is the day to raise a hymn of grateful praise for the people who have brought wisdom and joy and blessing into our lives; who have been living signs of God's embodied love.

The Currents staff is grateful to the Rev. Jennifer Phelps Ollikainen, D. Min., for her thoughtful reflections on the texts that begin in early October and take us to the celebration of the Reign of Christ and Thanksgiving Day. Dr. Ollikainen serves as the Executive Director of Lutheran Congregational Services, a social ministry organization in eastern Pennsylvania. She holds a Masters of Divinity, Masters of Sacred Theology in New Testament, and Doctor of Ministry in Worship from the Lutheran Theological Seminary at Philadelphia. Prior to this call, she served as the Associate for Worship Resources at the churchwide office of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America and as a parish pastor at St. Matthew Lutheran Church in Springfield, Pennsylvania.

As I return the editorship of Preaching Helps to a more skillful homiletics guide, I give thanks for the wonderful pastors I have interacted with over the past months since Dr. Satterlee's resignation as Preaching Helps' long-term editor. I have learned how much it means to depend on their faithful study, writing, and dependability as the seasons come and go.

Gratefully,

Kathleen Billman, Interim Editor of Preaching Helps

October 5, 2014

Proper 22

Isaiah 5:1-7

Psalm 80:7-15

Philippians 3:4-14

Matthew 21:33-46

First Reading

This week's parable of the vineyard is found in all three synoptic gospels. All three call upon the cornerstone image of Psalm 118:22-23 in a powerful image of human rejection redeemed in the hands of God. The parable of an organic vineyard system of fruit production is given a bedrock foundation of stone and building construction. With post-resurrection eyes and ears, we quickly place Christ into the place of cornerstone as the son rejected and redeemed through death to life. On the face of it, the image is neat and tidy, quick to be explained and rather staid. Yet the writer of Matthew encourages the reader to take another look in the juxtaposition of vineyard and stone.

Set in the parable of a living, fruit-producing vineyard, we are pushed beyond the recycling of a rejected stone. Even the psalmists praise leans toward something beyond mere substitution. "Marvelous" (Hebrew nphlath) is not an apt descriptor of a new structure merely lucky to have a usable building material. "Marvelous" reveals a transformation of purpose worthy of awe and wonder. This is no mere substitution but a transformation of the system. The production of fruit is transformed from mere fruit to the fruit of the kingdom of God.

Mixing stone and vineyard in the parable, the author of the Gospel of Matthew invites us to imagine the foundation necessary for a living vineyard which produces fruit. The prophet Isaiah also ponders the vineyard s production of fruit by examining not the foundation but the cultivation of the vineyard. Observing the production of non-edible wild grapes in contrast to the expectation of edible fruit, Isaiah describes drastic consequence of inattention to the careful preparation of the foundation.

The prophet reveals the gift: a carefully constructed vineyard ready to bear fruit, a carefully constructed people of God planted for justice and righteousness in God's creation. And the prophet reveals the consequence of inattentiveness to that gift by his observation of thwarted justice and the cries of the people. The prophet illustrates clearly that there is consequence when the people of God become inattentive to God's gifts. In the hands of an ungrateful and inattentive people, God's provision turns into a harvest of inedible fruit, useless and troubling.

The end result of the interaction between God's foundation and provision for God's people can lead to either inedible wild grapes or life-giving fruit of the kingdom of God. The images of Isaiah and Matthew invite us into discernment of God's pleasant planting of justice, righteousness, and sustenance. We are challenged to see what is life-sustaining and how we participate in the production of sweet, sustaining fruit.

Paul illustrates this discernment in his writing to the Philippians. Regaling his list of human accomplishments, feats of his own tenacious study and will, he counts all as loss--as wild grapes. Only by faith in Christ, a gift from God, does Paul find the foundation and cultivation of the life-giving fruit of God's grace.

Pastoral Reflection

We have all heard a version of the old joke. "How do you make God laugh? Tell God your plans." The joke is told whenever our human plans are disrupted by the unexpected and illogical occurrences of everyday life. We purchase planners and sync schedules; we make unending to-do lists; we bookmark and pin on Pinterest a never-ending cadre of efficiency and planning tips. And then we seem surprised by the reaction of frustration and disappointment when all does not follow the plan we worked so hard to create.

The prophet Isaiah sings the vision of a beloved plan for a vineyard yielding plentiful grapes. In his letter to the Philippians, Paul recounts the extensive planning for righteousness in which he participated as a Pharisee. Jesus tells a parable about a landowner who made arrangements for an abundant harvest. All of these plans were thwarted by unruly people and reformed by God's grace revealed in new ways.

Unfortunately, our best human intentions and our best human planning reveal our short-sighted humanity in contrast to God's wisdom and grace. Sometimes our best work results in inedible wild grapes when we become inattentive to God's marvelous provision for and production of life. Sometimes our short-sighted actions thwart the harvest God intends. Today's readings reveal the potential destructive consequences of human sin to God's creative and redeeming work in the world. They serve as a warning and impetus for reconnection to the vine, the fruit-producing life in Christ.

For it is in Christ that we are connected to the cultivation of life-giving fruit in the kingdom of God. From the beginning of Jesus' public ministry in the Gospel of Matthew, Jesus proclaims, "Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near" (Matt 4:17). By the presence of the Son of God, the only gift that will produce the kingdom is revealed. By the gift of faith in him, our eyes are open to the marvelous work of God in mercy and grace. We are grafted into the vineyard built on the foundation of God's love to produce the life-giving fruit of mercy and grace to God's people.

So then, how do we become better connected to God's life-giving, fruit-producing vineyard? How do we respond as a people of faith when our human plans are broken open to be better aligned with God's provision and plan? How do we quell our quick tempers to make space for the grateful anticipation of the marvelous renewal of God?

Paul's answer is this: press on with intentionality, trusting life in Christ. Learn not to react by saying "Darn! Foiled again!" but to look with hopeful anticipation to the opportunity to say, "Wow! See how God transformed our humble attempts to follow!"

October 12, 2014

Proper 23

Isaiah 25:1-9

Psalm 23

Philippians 4:1-9

Matthew 22:1-14

First Reading

Grammarians indicate the use of the imperative for direct orders, clear instructions, strong invitations and public notices. They indicate not what is, was, or might be. The use of the imperative changes the syntax of our phrases as away to bring attention to the exhortation. The imperative is rather impolite; politeness requires some softening so as to care for the listener and prevent offense.

Jesus' parable of the king who gave a wedding banquet relies on the use of imperative verbs. Once the initial invited guests make their excuses for not following the king's polite invitation, the king begins the first round of imperatives to those who were invited: Tell! Look! Come! When those commands are ignored as well, the imperative is strengthened by rage. Politeness is eschewed as the invitation is broadened beyond the initial guest list. The third invitation becomes an imperative to all, invited or not, good or bad: Go! Invite all! Compel them to come in! The parable is one of increasing urgency and emotional drama. The kingdom of heaven embodies the urgency and anger of a man angered by the complacency and flat response of others to an extravagant banquet gift carefully prepared for their sake. The extravagant banquet demands attention and overcomes polite etiquette.

Paul also makes abundant use of the imperative in this section of his letter to the Philippians. There are no fewer than ten imperative commands: Stand firm! Be of the same mind! Help! Rejoice! Again, rejoice! Make your gentleness be known! Do not worry! Make your requests known to God! Think about these things! Keep on doing what you've learned!

Here at the end of his letter, Paul instructs the faithful with urgency, clarity, and hope. Adding strength to his commands, Paul adds undeniable promises, the truth and future consequences of the imperative commands. "The Lord is near" (Phil 4:5b). "The peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus" (Phil 4:7). "The God of peace will be with you" (Phil 4:9b).

Likewise, the prophet Isaiah sets out the truth and future consequences of living into the promises of God. Naming the observable signs of God's interaction with God's people, the prophet paints a future of abundance, hope, and rejoicing. Isaiah reminds the people that God has been a refuge to the poor and needy, a shelter and shade from the storms and heat, a quieting presence amid the destruction of the ruthless. On this foundation, Isaiah, in a rather more polite manner than Jesus' parable or Paul's letter, invites the people to hopeful anticipation and rejoicing.

There are so many biblical imperatives and invitations. When will we get the point and follow?

Pastoral Reflection

As the mother of two elementary-aged children, I often find myself issuing urgent commands and drawing out the lines of consequence to behavioral choices. My goal is to shape and form these children in my care to be responsible, joy-filled people who are kind to others and take refuge in the promises of faith. The urgency of my parental commands is fueled by my love and care for them. Yet, they make choices and follow their hearts as amazingly created and crafted children of God. All of their choices have consequences; sometimes joyful, sometimes difficult. I rejoice with them when there is joy and struggle with them when there is hardship. Their struggles only make my commands more urgent and strident.

In many ways, the prophet Isaiah, the apostle Paul, and our Lord, Jesus, embody God's urgent desire for us to enjoy the promised joy and abundance God promises. Theirs is a vision and experience of grace many have not yet known. Their urgent commands and striking visions of joyful feasting well up from the sure and certain knowledge that there is something beyond weeping and gnashing of teeth, beyond worry, beyond the shroud of storms and struggles. And so certain are they of a more excellent way, their urgency seeks to break through complacency, apathy, petty arguments, and the loss of hope evident in their followers.

While good church folk often seek refuge from the storm via a polite manifestation of spiritual quietness and stillness, sometimes that stillness is more like complacency and a retreat away from the urgency necessitated by the ever-expanding reign of God. The parable of the king who was urged into expanding his invitation through his anger reveals the dramatic lengths God undertakes to push us beyond ourselves. Paul's commands to rejoice in the gospel urge the faithful in Philippi to actively try on faith risking joy and trust. The prophet Isaiah seeks to persuade a people to trust and rejoice in the provision of God.

How is the urgency of God's call to the way of faith manifest in your life? Whose voice embodies the imperative hope of a faith-filled life? Who is filling with righteous anger at your complacency and apathy? Who is calling you beyond petty arguments toward reconciliation? Who casts a vision of delight as in invitation to joy and hope?

October 19, 2014

Proper 24

Isaiah 45:1-7

Psalm 96:1-9(10-13)

1 Thessalonians 1:1-10

Matthew 22:15-22

First Reading and Pastoral Reflection

The emphasis is on the names by which we call ourselves.

The prophet Isaiah speaks to the named and anointed one, Cyrus, through whom God reveals the promise and will of God so that the people of God might know and be known by the one who calls them by name. The chosen are named with the surname of God forever uniting them with the will of the one who created them.

As Paul writes to the Thessalonians, he is sure to name himself and his coworkers in the gospel, Silvan us andTimothy. By so doing, he makes known how God chooses to proclaim grace through individuals. Paul, Silvanus, and Timothy are human beings, unique in face, look, manner, and voice; individuals who look at once different and yet very much like the community to which they bear the gospel.

Jesus encounters named groups, the Pharisees and Herodians, hostile to his mission and purpose. They seek to trap him as one disloyal to the authority of the human emperor by naming himself in relationship to God's authority in defiance of the human authority.

But to the surprise of the Pharisees and Herodians, Jesus sidesteps the assumed dichotomy of allegiance that sets God's authority as antithetical to human authority. Rather, Jesus names human authority for what it is. Resting in the knowledge of God's ultimate authority over all humanity, Jesus upended the human system while participating in it. God is over all things and all things are God's. Human authority rests within God's authority. They are not at odds. The Pharisees and Herodians walked away amazed, from the Greek, thaumazo, meaning "to be extraordinarily impressed or disturbed."

Indeed, to be challenged by the naming by which we know ourselves is the source of great amazement or disturbance. Do you know that gut feeling of disappointment when someone mispronounces your name or gets it wrong? Do you know the thrill of being named part of something for which you've longed or being named and honored in some way?

Comedian Paul Reiser in his book, Babyhood (Harper Collins, Reprint 2012), opines, "Naming your child is a monumental responsibility. You get to tag and identify--for life--a whole new person. Throughout your child's life, it will come up at every hour of every day.... And with every usage, that name--the result of hours and hours of debate, and the consideration of an infinite number of variables, uninvited input, and conflicting personal agendas--that name will, for good or bad, represent to the world and its people, for all eternity, your child. Which is why you don't want to screw it up" (opening of the chapter, "And Thy Name Shall Be ... Something").

Names matter in human community. A name may indicate connection to or disconnection from groups of people. William Shakespeare ponders the shortcomings of boundary-creating family names in his play Romeo and Juliet when he placed the words in Juliet's mouth decrying her beloved's naming as a member of a rival family, "What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet."

Beyond family rivalries, names divide in even more subtle and destructive ways as our human frailties and brokenness become evident in dynamics of power and authority. In a recent study by the Wharton Business School, 6,500 professors at the top 250 schools were emailed a request for mentoring. These professors revealed racial and gender bias by responding more frequently to emails requesting mentoring by names associated with being white and male compared to names associated with being female or non-white (see transcript of the interview by Shankar Vedantum on April 22, 2014, at www.npr.org/2014/04/22/305814367/evidence-of-racial-gender-biases-foundin-faculty-mentoring).

Scientists have even discovered that hearing our own name causes changes in our brain physiology (Carmody and Lewis, "Brain Activation When Hearing One's Own and Others' Names" in Brain Research, volume 1116, Issue 1 (20 October 2006: 153-158). By our very biology, created by God, we are wired to physiologically respond to our name.

Therefore, the name by which you are called matters. You are created to be named. Families and loved ones agonized over your naming for the sake of the human family. That name can be used and abused. A name represents much and yet, a human name is not the only name by which we are called.

As the prophet Isaiah reminds the people of God that God calls us by name, God's name, we are shaped and formed. It matters that we are named children of God who created us. By doing so, we know that as God created us, our brains fire in recognition. We are named as part of a community larger than our families or cultures. We are God's own. Free to be unfettered by the confines of our human naming.

By Jesus' response to the Pharisees and Herodians, we are called to see that earthly names and the authority they carry which may be used to set us against one another in human community are set below the primary name by which we are called: beloved child of God.

Once again, the name by which you are called matters. Be amazed at the wonder of God's naming of God's creation with the name above every name, Jesus Christ, our Lord. Yet understand that our amazement carries within it both the delight of being one with each other in our common identity as children of God and the disturbance of the divides we place between ourselves on account of our human naming.

The narrative of the Gospel ends without conclusion as the crowd departs carrying their amazement. The conclusion is still written in the lives of we who are named, children of God.

October 26, 2014

Reformation

Jeremiah 31:31-34

Psalm 46

Romans 3:19-28

John 8:31-36

First Reading and Pastoral Reflection

The psalmist commands, "Be still! And know that I am God!" (Ps 46:10). Perhaps nothing better sums up the proclamation of grace through faith insisted upon by the Reformers of the church from the sixteenth century to today. Children of God, be still. For when you stop, you will better witness God's primary and salvific action in Jesus Christ.

The texts for this day are familiar. The prophet Jeremiah speaks of a new covenant written on our hearts as a people beloved by God. The psalmist sings of God as refuge and fortress commanding us to "be still and know." Near the end of his ministry, Paul writes to the Romans of salvation by the righteousness of God through faith in Jesus Christ. We are justified by faith apart from the works prescribed by the law. The Gospel of John sums up the freedom of the gospel, freed from sin and death we are freed to live in the grace revealed to us in the presence of God in Jesus Christ.

In all honesty, I am often puzzled about the best way to proclaim these scriptures in a sermon on the celebration of Reformation. The scriptures are well-known and mysterious, simple and yet profoundly complex. They are at once affirming to my sense of Lutheran theology and so profound that I embody that theology by letting go of the need to fully understand in favor of opening up to receive the flow of the Word of God by faith. We must be still so that we will know. That is the point, after all, is it not?

Recently, I heard Pastor David deFreese, former bishop of the Nebraska Synod of the ELCA, preach on this text from the Gospel of John at a worship service at the Lutheran Services of America annual conference. In his sermon, he told a story about renting a rototiller to prepare a garden. The young clerk knew him to be a pastor and was excited to show off the shop's four new Honda rototillers, not yet rented to anyone. Although Pastor deFreese showed little excitement, the young clerk proceeded to pull the cord to start the engine in a demonstration of the machine. Unfortunately, the engine did not roar to life. The young clerk tried again, with more gusto but no success. Frustrated, the young clerk began to swear and then immediately apologize to Pastor deFreese. Thus began a repeating cycle by the young clerk: pull, swear, apologize, repeat.

Eventually, Pastor deFreese interrupted and offered to try himself. Reaching down and seeing that the "kill switch" always installed on Honda engines was engaged, Pastor deFreese switched the switch and pulled the cord, resulting in the gas and oil flowing into the engine and the engine roaring to life. A miracle? To the clerk, yes! Pastor deFreese noted, the "kill switch" would be more aptly named the "life switch." Once flipped to the position that freed the gas and oil to flow, the engine roared to life. Pastor deFreese placed the cross of Jesus Christ in the position to free the grace and life God intends for his creation. Life flows through the cross, freeing us to roar to life in Jesus Christ.

Be still! From the posture of open eyes, ears and hands, we will witness the life that flows by the grace of God through the cross. Our freedom in Christ flows through a sacrifice for sin. We must come face-to-face with the reality of this sacrifice: the blood, the tears, the anguish. We come face-to-face with our inadequacy in terms of the law. As Paul writes, "all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God" (Rom 3:23). On our knees in the stillness of humility, our hands are freed from the works of the law, freed to be open to receive the grace of the resurrection. Be still and know the "life switch" of faith in the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. And yet, the free flow of grace into our bones through the cross enlivens our life of faith. We are activated to be anything but still in the life of faith.

At a recent address at an anniversary dinner for Lutheran Advocacy Ministries of Pennsylvania, Dr. Timothy Wengert, retired professor of Reformation and the Lutheran Confessions at the Lutheran Theological Seminary at Philadelphia, pondered the role of Lutherans in public ministry. Proclaiming the free gift of grace in Jesus Christ, Wengert said, "We no longer need ask, 'What must I do to be saved? What must I do to earn God's favor?' But, having been favored by God in Christ out of sheer mercy and love, we can now ask, 'What do you want me to do?"'

Drawing the parallel to his recent retirement, Wengert described the life of faith freed in the grace of Christ Jesus:

   You wake up every day and say, "What
   am I going to do now that I don't
   have to do anything?" And to answer
   that question, given that we have all
   this time on our hands, God gives us
   our neighbor in need--starting with
   the household filled with spouses,
   children, relatives and loved ones,
   extending to our neighbors at work
   and in our communities and including
   the government--the very people who
   work and labor here for good laws,
   justice and an end to oppression of
   the poor (Keynote Address, Lutheran
   Advocacy Ministries of Pennsylvania,
   35th anniversary dinner, May 6, 2014).

And so we are still to receive the grace of God as a free flowing gift of grace revealed in the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ, the son of God. And being filled with life, we are free and privileged to be enlivened by that grace in the life of flowing grace.

OR

October 26, 2014

Proper 25

Leviticus 19:1-7, 15-18

Psalm 1

1 Thessalonians 2:1-8

Matthew 22:34-46

First Reading and Pastoral Reflection

There is nothing like a good, lively debate wherein the debaters spar to entrap the other with tricks of logic and rhetoric. This week's Gospel text reveals a glimpse of such a sparring match between the learned elite and Jesus. In the longer narrative around today's pericope, the Sadducees and Pharisees tested and cajoled Jesus with the hope of catching flaws in argument and mistakes in interpretation. With the confidence of expertise, they assume throughout that their interpretation is correct in the logic of the law of God. But in the debate with Jesus, their logic fails to lead them closer to the truth of the living God.

Prior to this week's pericope, the Sadducees tested Jesus about resurrection by posing a kinship question about life after the resurrection. But the Sadducees denied resurrection and their question assumed a condescending attitude. Jesus disengages the logical trap not by arguing about resurrection in the abstract but rather by pointing to the provision of God for the living. The crowd was astounded and surprised that Jesus scored a point in the debate.

This week's pericope continues the contest as the Pharisees pick up the debate. A lawyer asks a question as a test with the confidence of knowing the correct answer. His address to Jesus as "teacher" may be heard as sarcastic or patronizing. Consider a college professor calling the students, "teacher." In response to the question, Jesus is straightforward and correct. The greatest commandment is to love God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind. The second is to love your neighbor as yourself. Jesus neatly sums up the law. Correct! Minimal points are recorded for mastering the subject matter in the debate.

Finally, Jesus turns the tide of the debate with his own questions. Jesus uses the tools of the Pharisees and Sadducees, tools of logic and law, to reveal their limitations. "Whose son is the Messiah?" is, on the surface, a simple question to which the Pharisees answer quickly and simply, "The son of David." Then, resting on the scriptures to which the Pharisees subscribe, Jesus points out that even David recognized the law of God which surpasses human logic. Human systems of kinship do not directly apply to God's living grace. The law cannot fully contain God. The debate is over for the Pharisees are silenced. Their traps have failed.

Beyond this week's pericope, Jesus offers further description of the Pharisee's flawed logic. Jesus affirms the law the Pharisees teach as a gift of God. However, he proclaims the shortcoming of teaching the law without practicing it. The law as a gift reveals God inasmuch as its followers embody and practice it. The living God proclaims God's grace in action better than the confines of a written law.

Laws exist because humanity has proven the need for them. Generally, jurisdictions enact laws to restrict behavior for the good of the community because on our own, we would not necessarily look to the good of others beyond ourselves. We would park wherever we want without much thought to the safety or convenience of others. We would drive faster than is safe for others on the road. And yet, the law is fallible. There can never be enough laws to govern all troublesome behaviors and sometimes the law embodies sin and legitimizes injustice. But even in Leviticus, a book of law, the instruction of the law is nothing without the interjection of God's action and presence. The listing of prohibitions is peppered with the indicative reality, "I am the LORD." Holiness is dependent on God's action not our own. God is the only one who is able to work faith and community beyond humanity's shortcomings. And yet, that unrestricted and unbridled power of God is at once reassuring and the cause of fear for those who prefer the more predictable law.

Paul, Silvanus, and Timothy's experience of mistreatment and opposition to the gospel described in Paul's first letter to the Thessalonians reveals that response of resistance to God's free and unrestricted grace beyond law. Paul chooses to proclaim that love of God with gentleness and abundance even in the face of adversity. At this moment, anyway, Paul is not fighting with logical argument but by example of confident faith.

Humanity continues to look to rules, guidelines and laws to shape human community into something better and greater. And yet, we are not transformed by those outer forcers. Prison overcrowding and high recidivism rates prove the limits of the law in our American justice system. Christians regularly flout the commandments of God. So what can reshape us into the beloved community God intends and describes between the lines and beyond the confines of the laws?

Only Christ himself, the living incarnation of the gospel, shapes our lives into God's vision of beloved community. The flaw in the logic of the Pharisees and Sadducees ultimately rests in their resistance to perceiving God's living presence in Jesus Christ. They cannot see beyond the law to the embodiment of love and mercy. They refuse to imagine that God works beyond law, beyond human imagination. Their final silence works to open the possibility of imagination of grace.

November 2, 2014--All Saints

Revelation 7:1-9

Psalm 34:1-10, 22

1 John 3:1-3

Matthew 5:1-12

First Reading and Pastoral Reflection

The beatitudes in the Gospel of Matthew begin Jesus' sermon on the mountain. Teaching his disciples, he begins by proclaiming nine blessings. Jesus' manner of speech in the beatitudes repeatedly, "Blessed be ..." uses the Greek, makarios, which pertains to being especially favored, blessed, fortunate, happy, or privileged.

The paradox of the kingdom of God brought near by the presence of Jesus Christ is immediately evident in that those Jesus names are not ones generally privileged or fortunate in the culture of the time. The meek fail to stand up for themselves. Those who hunger and thirst for righteousness are quick to be at odds with the power structures of society. The merciful may be mistaken for doormats. The pure in heart risk heartbreak. The peacemakers venture into violence and tension. Those who are persecuted and reviled suffer unjustly. Clearly the gospel Jesus proclaims is not one of the cultural status quo and traditional structures of power. Rather, the gospel comes to privilege those who disrupt the status quo at great risk to their security within the society.

Each blessing includes a subordinating clause introduced by the Greek hoti indicating causality. The blessedness of those who disrupt the status quo causes equally disruptive outcomes. The meek will inherit the earth contrary to societal inheritance traditions. Those who hunger and thirst for righteousness not normally found in the society will be filled to overflowing. Those who show mercy will receive mercy rather than scorn. The pure in heart will see God. The peacemakers will not be attacked but will be beloved as children of God. Those who are persecuted and reviled will receive the kingdom of heaven beyond suffering and pain. The human orders are transformed and broken open beyond human imagination. The action of God in the blessing of the disruptors causes the transformative action of the kingdom of heaven.

Interestingly, eight blessings are proclaimed on people named by description: blessed are the meek, those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, the merciful, the pure in heart, the peacemakers, and those who are persecuted. The final blessing is made more personal to those who were listening: blessed are you when people revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account. In this way, Jesus draws the listener into the transformative work of the kingdom of heaven. This disruption of human orders and status quo is not merely on account of others, but inclusive of the listeners then and now.

The vision of the kingdom of heaven is realized fully in John's vision in Revelation. John sees the multitude in robes of white before the throne of God singing praise to God. John is asked, "Who are these, robed in white, and where have they come from?" John tosses the question back to the elder who explains that the multitude are those who have come through the great ordeal with robes washed white in the blood of the Lamb. The transformation of the kingdom of heaven is complete as the trials of human suffering are ended, springs of water overflow and God intimately wipes away our tears.

The first letter of John confirms the vision of the kingdom of heaven in the promise he proclaims. We are children of God yet have not seen the vision in its fullest clearly here on earth. But the promise rings true: one day we will see the face of God clearly, one might say as clearly as to see God's eyes as the tears are tenderly wiped away from our cheeks.

The celebration of All Saints is a time to celebrate and revel in the glimpse of full promise of the kingdom of heaven. We dwell in the promise that one day all tears will be wiped away, the systems of oppression will be overturned, reconciliation will be realized, and suffering and pain will be no more. Jesus and John proclaim the vision not as wishful future reality but as strength for the continuation of the journey.

The promised vision of the kingdom of heaven is one for which the world is hungry and thirsty. Simply read or listen to the news for a few minutes and the desperation becomes clear. We live in fear of random shootings. We take aim at each other in blame for the ills of the whole community for which we share responsibility. The poor, meek, and marginalized have a harder and harder journey to travel.

The vision of the kingdom of heaven offers not only a momentary dream of the future. In Christ's presence, the kingdom of heaven is near, present and real. The kingdom of heaven dawned in the appearance of Jesus and continues to be realized in his presence in our world. The faithful hold up the full vision in order to recognize and be reminded about how the kingdom of heaven breaks into our current reality.

We need look through the transforming image of community Jesus reveals in the beatitudes or John's vision of the multitude gathered around the throne praising God with full bellies, dried tears and satiated hearts. Where do you see glimpses of this promise today?

Point to those glimpses of promise happening today in the world for it is not only the future fullness that gives us hope. The glimpses along the way offer us an energizing handhold for the present troubles. Even in the midst of sickness, there is love. Even in the midst of war, there are moments of reconciliation. Even in the midst of oppression, the tables will turn.

November 9, 2014

Proper 27

Amos 5:18-24

Psalm 70

1 Thessalonians 4:13-18

Matthew 25:1-13

First Reading

Carl Jung popularized a saying variously attributed to the Latin writings of Desiderius Erasmus or an ancient Spartan proverb: bidden or unbidden, God is present. The saying writ large on plaques and doorways captures the sense of God's unwavering and uncontrollable presence in our lives. God is present and God is coming into the world at once whether we are ready or not.

All of the readings for this day point to our human attentiveness to God's coming presence into our human reality. From our varied vantage points, we may or may not prepare, welcome, anticipate, celebrate, or fear this entrance of the holy into our lives.

The prophet Amos speaks to a comfortable people, faithful in liturgical action but lacking in service to those in need in their midst. Amos is strident in his exhortation to take away the cacophony of sacrifice and praise. The offerings and songs were like noise if the people did not follow the way of the God they served. Empty rituals lull the people into believing what they wanted to believe. The prophet reflects the consequential reality of empty praise, a coming reality of an unexpected day of judgment. The prophet evokes fear to spur on repentance. Get your empty praise out of the way. Rather, be carried along the stream of God's work of justice and righteousness.

Paul writes to the Thessalonians with encouragement for the long life of faith with a vision and vibrant expectation of Christ's anticipated return. This vision of rapture serves to give hope and promise in this life. Like the American spiritual song, "Swing Low, Sweet Chariot" composed sometime before 1862 and sung for generations to strengthen marginalized people in dire circumstances, the anticipation of something wonderful grants hope beyond the moment.

Jesus tells a parable of wise and foolish bridesmaids, half of whom prepare diligently for the bridegroom and half were unprepared. The women are shown in extremes and both groups miss out on some joy. The prepared ones turn away from the joy of sharing. The unprepared ones miss the banquet. Jesus commands at the end, "Keep awake!" The listener is left wondering whether the attentiveness is lived through preparation or spontaneity.

In all of these scripture passages, the moment of God's revealed presence comes whether the people are virtuous or not, ready or not, hopeful or not. But in all these passages and as the church year draws us to anticipation, the urgency becomes palatable increasing our attentiveness to our yearning anticipation of the coming presence of God in Christ.

Pastoral Reflection

Many years ago, I sat alone in an empty apartment on the eve of the eve of my wedding tying tiny ribbons onto worship bulletins. At some point in the midst of this tedious task, I wondered why I was so intent on working alone, fulfilling a detail sure to be unnoticed by all but me at the wedding. Years later, I vividly remember this moment. There was no joy in it, neither was there regret. Yet the memory haunts me whenever I wonder about the busy-work tasks, preparatory tasks in which I often find myself immersed. Do these preparations distract away from noticing the significant moments of life? Or do they prepare me to revel in those significant moments? I am never quite sure.

All around us, significant things are happening. The very kingdom of heaven is breaking into our lives whether we find ourselves prepared for it or not. On the one hand, we can prepare by training ourselves to listen and look where the in-breaking is most likely to happen: to the places of brokenness where the cry for reconciliation and wholeness rings loud and clear. Yet on the other hand, nothing can prepare us for the surprise of life beyond our human imagination, the grace of God that surpasses all of our human understanding.

The parable makes clear that neither the wise nor the foolish bridesmaids embody a way worth following whole heartedly. The wise become stingy at the call to share their gifts. The foolish clearly miss out on the celebration as consequence of their lack of preparation. None of the ten bridesmaids by their preparations or lack thereof embody what matters in the parable. In the end, all ten bridesmaids defy the closing imperative to "Keep awake!" by falling asleep.

And so the kingdom of heaven comes, ready or not. The parable shifts our orientation away from preparedness to attentiveness. The prophet Amos sheds light on a different perspective. He argues for setting aside the fussy, sacrificial preparations to make room for the flow of justice and righteousness. The faithful way is neither frenetic activity nor lackadaisical indifference. Rather, the way forward is attentiveness to the justice and righteousness of God flowing into the world.

Being attentive or awake is to be observant and thoughtful toward your surroundings. It is to live in hopeful anticipation and longing for the fullness of the promise of Christ when all will be whole and live in grace and peace. Living in attentive anticipation trains us to be alert and awake for the smallest signs of new life and renewing hope. At times, we will over-prepare, under-prepare, be busy or fall asleep. But in all times, Christ comes to us, bidden or unbidden, to give us life.

November 16, 2014

Proper 28

Zephaniah 1:7, 12-18

Psalm 90:1-8, (9-11) 12

1 Thessalonians 5:1-11

Matthew 25:14-30

First Reading and Pastoral Reflection

When we experience fear or perceive a threat, we run, hide, or freeze. Our bodies strive to survive by preparing to fight or run by rerouting the blood supply to prepare for what will come next. So be warned. The public reading of scripture this week may incite fear in the hearts of those who yet wonder if the promises of Christ ring true.

The prophet Zephaniah proclaims a screed, an angry tirade of a warning of judgment against the people of Judah who have turned away from God's ways, turned away from the needy, and become indifferent to the presence of God. The prophet warns of the coming day of the LORD wherein there will be not banquets and bliss but judgment and destruction. The angry prophet stirs up fear not as mere threat but with purpose: for the repentance of the people. Zephaniah is like a parent who warns about a gruesome death in a car crash as a result of texting while driving in a dramatic effort to convince a teen to stop a dangerous behavior.

Paul writes to the Thessalonians stirring up a hint of fear but quelling that fear quickly with the promised protection and salvation in Jesus Christ. Paul speaks of the inevitability of the coming last day in a sudden flash. Paul chooses to proclaim reassurance. The promise is secure. Because we are children of the light, we live in hope. Beyond fear, we live attentive to love and hope. Relieved of the burden of worry and freed from paralyzing fear, we have purpose in the community. Together, we encourage and build one another up, spurring each to embody a beloved community at peace with one another, assisting the weak, and being patient, prayerful, and thankful.

In anticipation of his coming death and resurrection, Jesus tells a parable about a man who goes on a journey entrusting his property to his servants. Two servants invest the property seemingly without fear. Their investments pay off and when the man returns, they are able to turn back more than that with which they were entrusted. For this return on investment, the first two servants are praised and entrusted with more property.

However, the third servant, entrusted with the least amount of property, was paralyzed by fear of retribution. He buried the property in the dark thereby preventing any gain or loss. He thought his way prudent, avoiding loss. Probably shaking with fear, the third servant speaks the truth to the man in power at the time of the reckoning: the man in power was worthy of fear because he was unjust in his business dealings. The servant must have understood the consequences of speaking such unbridled truth to the man in power. However, he had little to lose--already living in fear and in oppressed circumstances.

Proving the third servant's fear justified, the master was furious at the time of reckoning. However, it is not clear whether the source is the lack of return on the investment or the truth-telling speech. In the end, the third servant remains outside of the comforts of the community

What, exactly, does this parable reveal about the kingdom of heaven? The parable does not easily fit into allegory where God is cast in the leading role for this would make God into an unjust tyrant. Neither can one simply take a moral lesson from the actions of the servants who are praised for they are praised for capitalizing on unfairly earned income perpetuating the unjust system of power. The third servant takes the road of fear and audacity resulting in no significant change in his own circumstances or in the unjust system of power.

Rather than an allegorical or moralizing reading, the parable is best read as the voice of a prophet who observes and describes the present reality and problem of people who fear the judgment of God. The kingdom of heaven will come amid fear and unjust human systems. The kingdom of heaven will break through to those who perpetuate the injustice with unquestioning participation and hope in accolades. The kingdom of heaven will break through to those who are paralyzed with fear. The kingdom of heaven will break through to those who risk speaking truth to power.

The kingdom of heaven breaks through precisely because our sin makes a mess of systems of power and authority. The parable heightens our realization of our sin and brokenness. No one is redeemed by these human categories of power and value.

This week's parable is the penultimate section of this chapter of the Gospel of Matthew. We are left in a place of uncertainty to wait the next section of the narrative which provides the last word of Christ. For this week, we must turn back to Paul's reassuring words of good news: the kingdom of heaven breaks through to our lives through the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. In this real and promised salvation, we have freedom to live in hope and joy.

The chorus of Janis Joplin's song, "Me and Bobby McGee," proclaims, "Freedom is just another word for nothing left to lose." This unintentional prophet proclaimed a truth we know in the salvation gift of Christ Jesus. We have nothing left to lose. We have nothing left to fear. We are free to let go of judgment and despair and live into the joy God intends for us by the gift of faith.

November 23, 2014

Reign of Christ

Ezekiel 34:11-16, 20-24

Psalm 95:l-7a

Ephesians 1:15-23

Matthew 25:31-46

First Reading and Pastoral Reflection

On the cusp of the turning of the year stands the celebration of the reign of Christ for all eternity. We celebrate the triumphant time of Christ's coming again even as we begin a season of anticipation and hunger for that coming.

The prophet Ezekiel and the words of Jesus in the Gospel of Matthew confront us with the future time of examination of the flocks and herds cared for by God. One must come to terms with agrarian imagery this week in the biblical texts and explore the difficult reality of judgment.

The prophet Ezekiel tells of a time when God will search out the sheep of his flock. Christian listeners will hear echoes of Jesus' descriptions of being the good shepherd (John 10) and the parable of the lost sheep (Matt 18:10-14, Luke 15:3-5). However, the comforting image of a loving shepherd is shaken as Ezekiel goes on to describe an examination of the flock. The missing verses of the pericope describe the critique of some of the sheep as those who graze while ruining pasture for others and fouling the water shared by the flock. The fat sheep have gorged beyond their needs and impaired the survival of others by their self-centeredness. The lean sheep have been pushed, scattered, and deprived of sustenance by the carelessness of the others. The examination of the flock reveals that they are unable to manage themselves in a way that is mindful of all. The sheep themselves can neither give up something for the sake of others nor stand up for themselves in the face of oppression. Therefore, a wise shepherd, David, is appointed to the just work of abundant community. No sheep is left uncared for. However, just shepherding requires the shepherd to bridle the greedy sheep and encourage the sheep which were abused. The intervention of justice requires the shepherd to examine honestly and act for transformative change for the sake of the herd.

In Jesus' description of examination of the sheep and goats, he describes a separation of people into the left and right hands of God. On the right are those who encountered the living God in the care of the community: feeding the hungry, giving drink to the thirsty, welcoming the stranger, clothing the naked, caring for the sick and visiting the imprisoned. On the left are those who did none of those things, thereby missing out on the encounter with God in their service.

Clearly, the group who served others receives the better outcome in the examination in this discourse. However, both groups reveal their inattentiveness to the presence of God. On the right hand and on the left hand, the same question is asked, "When was it that we saw you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or sick or in prison, and did not take care of you?" The difference lies in the propensity of action each group had. Those on the right acted in service to others without expecting God's presence in the one served. Those on the left seem to have been open to service if only they had known that they would be encountering God in that service.

Herein lies the troubling reality of Jesus' discourse of the judgment of the nations. The examination and judgment reveal that neither those at the right hand nor those at the left hand realized the possibility of the presence of Christ, the living God, in human relationship and care. The ignorance is heightened on the cusp of the passion drama which immediately follows in the Gospel of Matthew. God in the flesh, Jesus Christ, taught, healed, and proclaimed the presence of the kingdom of heaven on earth and yet humanity has still not engaged the living God in the world in which they dwell. The death and resurrection that follows is the final culmination of justice and care of God to God's people. After that, the recognition of the presence of God will lie in the hands of God not the sinful and inattentive people of God.

Paul's letter to the Ephesians confirms the new revelation and wisdom of God revealed in the death and resurrection for Jesus Christ. Carefully indicating God as the subject of the verbs of faith, Paul reminds the Ephesians of the good news beyond our fateful examination as inattentive sinners. Through Christ, Paul prays for the wisdom and enlightenment that comes only from God by virtue of Christ's ascension to the right hand of God. The hope and attention of the people of God remains in the hands of Christ. Grafted into Christ's inheritance of life and power, we come to know that we are examined on Christ's attentiveness to us beyond our inattentiveness to the world.

But what, then, is to be made of the moral undertones of Jesus' discourse on the judgment of the nations? What, then, is to be made of our celebration of being judged righteous according to Christ's righteousness not our own? What, then is to be made of the justice for which God longs in all of creation?

The question is, really, how do we live into the justice God longs for and Christ makes possible? When we celebrate the reign of Christ, we must recognize that our participation is integral to the justice God longs for. As we enter into the new church year and the Advent season of anticipation, we train our eyes to notice the inequalities, the hunger, the thirst, the loneliness, the sickness of our community. For some, we will encounter the justice of the kingdom of heaven as judgment and limits. For others, the justice of the kingdom of heaven will be fresh water and mercy.

Thanksgiving

Deuteronomy 8:7-18

Psalm 65

2 Corinthians 9:6-15

Luke 17:11-19

First Reading and Pastoral Reflection

In Deuteronomy, the people of God are urged to remember God as the source of their land, food, and the stuff of their livelihood. With a grace-centered interpretation of Old Testament law, the reading concludes before the consequence for forgetting God's provision is made clear. Verses 19 and 20 reveal that those who forget God as the source of all life will perish.

Similar to the setting forth of the law in Deuteronomy, Paul exhorts the community at Corinth to live in gratitude to God in his second letter. Rather than lay out consequences, he encourages experimentation. In verse 13, he encourages to go beyond trust in his words. Like a science professor, he advises testing or experimenting (Greek, doximas) with his hypothesis to validate the premise. By means of the visible experiment of living in gratitude to God in Christ, Paul makes clear that the gospel will be publicly proclaimed. Others will see and give thanks, pray and glorify God. The inner attitude of the community will be evident to the world.

The narrative in Luke of the healing of ten lepers exemplifies the evangelistic power of public gratitude. Nine lepers are healed and go merrily on their way. Only one returns to Jesus to offer praise and thanks for the transformative action. While many will notice the cleansing of the other nine, their silence suggests that the miracle of their healing will call attention to the individuals themselves rather than the source of their transformation. They may be inwardly thankful--surely so as ones healed of a horrible disease and returned to community. The gift of faith is named by the one who shouts and makes public the source of his transformative healing.

Interestingly, psychologists have found empirical evidence that gratitude shapes the behavior not only of the one who is thankful but also of those around him or her. A Google search of psychological studies about gratitude results in numerous studies revealing a correlation between gratitude and behavior including economic generosity, feelings of wellbeing, lowered stress, and improved mental health. A 1995 study in the Journal of Applied Psychology by Rind and Bordia indicated a 30 percent increase in restaurant server's tips when "thank you" was written on the check. The public gratitude of one creates a ripple effect into the community.

As God's children, redeemed and beloved, we have much for which to give thanks. But gratitude is not merely for the sake of the one who gives thanks. Rather, gratitude is proclamation of grace. It flows beyond us for the sake of the world.

Thanksgiving in the United States is a tradition with roots in the harvest. Toiling for sustenance in a new land, the holiday remembers when our ancestors gathered to celebrate abundance. However, Thanksgiving must hold to the depths of its complexity beyond fat turkeys, construction paper costumes and casseroles. Digging deeper, the celebration is tainted with the ideals that resulted in the oppression of native peoples and conflict. Even now in our country, some gather at tables heavy with rich food while others down the street go hungry. At our family tables, conflict or abuse leaves a bitter taste. True gratitude only flows when we see our struggles and shortcomings with brutal honesty.

How do we live in gratitude immersed in a world full of suffering? How do we come to give thanks for our blessings even when our blessings may come at a price to others?

Our faithful proclamation of gratitude to God in Christ Jesus is one that speaks lament and praise. The Israelites are reminded of the provision of the God who brought them out of slavery, abuse, and oppression. The lepers healed by Jesus suffered in pain and isolation without the ability to support themselves beyond the shame of begging. The faithful in Corinth give thanks for a savior who was betrayed, tortured, and crucified for the sake of their salvation. This is no vain, empty praise. Rather, the biblical model of thanksgiving and praise flows through a narrative of brokenness and suffering.

The world is hungry for the transformative grace of God who brings us to praise through the depths of sorrow and suffering. The cynical who watch for any whiff of hypocrisy in the faith pounce on empty praise and boastful thanks. Our human tendency, even in the church, is to be like the nine lepers who receive grace and keep its glory for themselves. Our thanksgiving often sounds more like self-praise than the deep gratitude that is contagiously transformative.

Loudly proclaim thanksgiving for God's creation, provision and gift of salvation in Jesus Christ. And do so while lamenting our human brokenness which leads to our peril when we become distracted from our grateful praise to God necessitating God's grace and mercy. We cannot proclaim resurrection without the reality of the death of our savior, Jesus Christ. Neither can we proclaim thanksgiving without the reality of sin.

"It is indeed right, our duty and our joy, that we should at all times and in all places give thanks and praise to you almighty and merciful God through our savior, Jesus Christ, ..." (Evangelical Lutheran Worship, introduction to the proper preface in Holy Communion: Augsburg Fortress, 2006).

By the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ, we are free to give thanks even in the midst of suffering. In places of oppression, we give thanks for the transformation that will happen by grace and mercy. In the face of hunger, we give thanks for the gratitude that leads us to share the abundance God provides. Bathed in honest confession and lament, our praise proclaims the greatness of our God who offers not empty glory but life-giving, transformative hope.