Image Matters

Matthew 22:15-22

Image

Who do you look like? Who do you favor? It’s one of the first things we ask about newborn babies. Whose eyes do they have? Whose chin? Whose hands or feet? I remember praying that my oldest might resemble me in some small way when we were expecting her. Zanna has my feet by the way.

At any family reunion we compare relatives to one another, looking for similarities. Searching for Aunt Wanda’s nose or Uncle Tony’s hair, we comb the room trying to find what characteristics hold us together, unite us, identify us as belonging to one another.

Where you are a chip off the old block, a carbon copy, or a doubleganger a generation removed, there is comfort in finding a similar trait. Even in adoptive families there is a need to identify with a personality trait or habit that ties you together.

Image

Image has a different connotation in our society. People cultivate their image. They want to make sure that what they present to the world sheds the best light. When we post a selfie online we rarely pic one that makes us look bad. We cultivate, pick and choose, what we will show the world, and what we keep to ourselves. We have family friends in Memphis and Steve often says to me “I wish I had the life Will and Angie have on Facebook.” It’s not their real life, their real life with two full time jobs, one serving a church, and three kids in High school, Junior High and Elementary is complicated, messy and hectic. But the image they have cultivated is enviable.

Image

In our Old Testament lesson reading from Exodus, Moses asks to see God’s glory. He doesn’t ask to see God’s image, that would be too much for anyone to handle, so he asks to see God’s glory. And the image the writer of Exodus gives us is one of Moses standing in the cliff, covered by the very hand of God until God walks past and Moses can see God’s back.

It’s an odd picture, Moses seeing the back of God. What good does it do to look at something from behind? It doesn’t do too much good, unless you are following them, then its exactly the view you need. Moses was going to return to the people and tell them to follow his lead because he was following God’s. Behind God was exactly where he needed to be so that he could follow faithfully.

Image

The Gospel Lesson has Jesus dealing with an image problem as well. He is still in the temple, teaching and preaching. This is still Holy Week and his death is looming large. He has been very clear about the fact that the religious leaders and political leaders of the day were not acting in the people’s best interests. They were not helping the people live the lives God was calling them to live.

This had upset those in power, as speaking truth to power often will do, and so they began to plot to harm him. The Herodians, supporters of Rome, came and stood among the crowds. The Pharisees sent their disciples over to listen. Politics makes strange bedfellows, doesn’t it? The leaders of the temple in cahoots with the biggest Roman nationalists you’ve ever seen, uniting to get rid of this teacher, this Jesus. This guy whose image has gotten to big.

They begin to ask questions in order to trap him in something. “Is it lawful to pay taxes to the emperor?”

That seems like a fairly straight forward question. It’s a yes or no answer. Or is it?

Jesus is in the Temple, a place set aside for the worship of God. A place where you were to give your offerings, your sacrifices and acknowledge that God has first place in your life. That whole first commandment thing was a big deal.

It was such a big deal, in fact, that you had to change your Roman money for Temple money when you came through the gate. You gave sheckles to the Temple, special coins, not Roman ones. Why? Because Roman money had other symbols on it, other images.

So when Jesus asks what coin is used to pay taxes he is handed a Denarius, a Roman coin. He asks “Who’s head is this, who’s title.” He actually asks “Who’s image is this? Who’s title?”

Image

The people responded, “The Emperor’s” It is an image of the Roman Emperor, with the inscription “Caesar Augustus Tiberius, Son of the Devine Augustus.” A claim of deity. An idolatrous coin, there in the Temple.

“Give to the Emperor what is the emperor’s and to God what is God’s” The Emperor can have his Roman money, it is printed in his own likeness. But what then will be given to God?

Hypocrites, Jesus has called them. Why? Because they are so concerned with image that they forget the most important image.

Genesis 1:27 “So God created humankind in his image, in the image of God he created them, male and female he created them.

Image.

God’s concern is not with earthly wealth and the power that comes with accumulating that wealth. God’s concern is for how those with wealth treat the people made in God’s own image. God’s concern isn’t that taxes get paid or tithe’s get paid, but that the people made in God’s image give themselves back to God.

Image.

Give to God what is God’s. We are made in God’s image, every one of us, and we are to see and recognize that image in others. But too often we choose instead to see the cultivated image. Whether its one the individual has crafted, like the images we post on social media, or an image that our prejudices have created; we have a hard time seeing past them to the God-image inside.

Sometimes we have such a deep belief in the images other’s share, that we don’t even realize we are blind to God’s image, in us and in others.

A woman told me a story about one of her son’s this week. I’ll call her Laura. Laura and her husband have two biological children, boys, Jack age 9 and James age 11. They love these boys with their whole hearts. Through some interesting circumstances they are also raising two other boys, mixed race, Michael age 9 and Patrick age 11. These boys have made their way into their home and into their hearts. And while they are not biologically or even legally related, they are family.

One day Michael the younger of the boys not biologically theirs, came home upset from school. He had heard another little boy talking about his church and how his pastor had said that God was black. Michael disagreed with the boy. He told Laura “I don’t think God is black. I think God is just regular colored.”

Image.

TO this little boy “regular color” meant white. Something he was not, and would not every be. He couldn’t imagine God looking like him, he was other, different, not regular.

This is what comes of praising images that are not God. This is what comes in a world that values what is the emperor’s over that which is God’s. The world becomes a place that can dehumanize an entire group of people because of their skin color, their gender. The world revolves around commodities to the point where even the people we see are reduced to commodities.

Image.

Think about it. We rank people’s looks on a 1 to 10 scale.  We send aid quickly to one section of the population, but delay sending it to other citizens who don’t have the same voice or power to be heard.

Image.

It’s a powerful thing. You and I are made in the image of God. So is everyone else. What might it look like to live into that image? What might it look like to truly give to God what is God’s?

Hydrate (Sermon for Lent Year A 3)

John 4:5-42

I chose to have us hear the Gospel today as readers’ theater for two reasons. One, it is a long text, the longest recorded conversation we have between Jesus and anyone else in scripture. And two, I think there is a benefit to hearing this passage in different voices. It allows us, perhaps, to hear things we might not have heard, or notice things that previously went unheard.

We are now in week three of our Boot Camp for the Soul, we have acknowledged the need for change, recognizing with Jesus in the wilderness that the pursuits of power, wealth, and abundance are not what we need to be seeking. Last week we spoke of the need to reset, to begin again as newborns in the faith, setting aside the old way of living and joining Nicodemus on the road to new life.

Today we are invited to Hydrate, by none other than Jesus himself.

Hydration is important, one could, without exaggeration say essential. We have all heard the admonition to drink 8-10 glasses of water a day to maintain hydration levels. I might add here that this does not mean 8-10 8oz glasses of any liquid, for when it comes to hydration all liquids are not created equal.

In fact, our desire to drink things other than water has helped us become dehydrated. Many of you will remember that, in the late Summer/early Fall of last year, I asked for prayers for my mother. She had been attending a football game in Arizona and passed out in the stands. Doctors determined she has severe dehydration. This was a shock to both of my parents.

You see, Linda is rarely found without a beverage in her hand, usually a route 44 cherry Vanilla Doctor Pepper from Sonic. When she’s not nursing one of those, she is drinking coffee or hot Tea. There are always multiple cups around her home in some stage of being consumed, and even the odd opened and sipped from Dasani bottle.

She consumed a lot of liquids, but these liquids were not the ones that bring hydration, they did not sustain life.

In our scripture for this morning we find a tired and vulnerable Jesus. John does not tell us of his lowly birth, his precocious childhood, or even his temptation in the wilderness. Up until now we have had the rock star Jesus who has taken the countryside by storm. But in this moment, we see a man, sitting alone tired, thirsty, human.

It is the heat of the day, a time when no one would be coming to the well. Women did this back breaking chore early in the day and prayed they did not have to return until the cool of the evening at the earliest. Women and children all over the world still gather in the cool of the morning to get the water they need from wells such as this. No taps, no bottles, now water treatment facilities. Unless you are the mother’s in some areas of Flint Michigan, who still gather daily for bottles of water because the water from their taps is unfit to consume.

A woman comes to the well, either because she ran out of water and needed an emergency fill up, or because she was avoiding the other women of town. She sees this man and in their shared vulnerability, they have a life changing conversation.

They speak of thirst, of need, of loss. She openly questions Jesus’ motives. She’s used to men giving her the run around. Jesus answers her and offers her something more than the stagnant well water. He offers he living water, flowing streams of water that renew, and refresh consistently.

Jesus speaks to her about her life. Without judgement, there is no mention of sin or repentance in this passage. Just a statement, “I know where you are coming from, I’ve seen what your life looks like. I’m offering you something different.”

This is an invitation. An invitation to imagine that even our most cherished practices matter little if they do not facilitate a relationship with the living God. An invitation to recognize that it is the very Messiah and Son of God who is speaking to her and affirming her worth and value. An invitation to leave behind her burdens and share with others the joy she has encountered in their meeting. These invitations are surprising in that the come from a man to a woman, a Jew to a Samaritan, and a rabbi of relative power and authority to someone who had neither. They are also surprising because each invitation also involves challenge – the challenge of getting over one’s piety as an excuse for keeping a distance from God; the challenge of accepting the new identity Jesus offered; and the challenge of imagining that God could and would use her to share the good news. Invitations aren’t devoid of challenges, and challenges can themselves be empowering when offered out of regard, acceptance and affirmation.[1]

The woman leaves Jesus, and her jar, at the well. She runs out into the community. She doesn’t need a jug to carry this later. The living water of Christ is bubbling up within her. She is now the vessel carrying good news to others!!

The disciples return to Jesus and beg him to eat something. They want to keep him strong and healthy, after all. But Jesus knows something they do not know. Jesus knows that man does not live by bread alone. He is also fed by the word and will of God.

Jesus gives them these words:

"My food is to do the will of him who sent me and to complete his work. Do you not say, 'Four months more, then comes the harvest'? But I tell you, look around you, and see how the fields are ripe for harvesting. The reaper is already receiving wages and is gathering fruit for eternal life, so that sower and reaper may rejoice together. For here the saying holds true, 'One sows and another reaps.' I sent you to reap that for which you did not labor. Others have labored, and you have entered into their labor."

Jesus is speaking about bread, but also the sustenance that can only be found in the word of God. He’s talking about the feeding of the 5,000 from a few barley loaves, and the feeding of the world through his own flesh and blood.

Jesus is showing the disciples that here, yes even among the Samaritans God has already been at work, the harvest is ready, the seeds have been sown. This is significant! God is at work even outside of the people of Israel. Seeds have been planted and they are ready for the living water of Christ so that they can be harvested.

There is a seamlessness in this story between symbolic and physical sustenance, an unbreakable connection between metaphor and the material. An experience with Jesus, my friends, has real world consequences.[2]

In the Eastern Orthodox church this woman is called Saint Photina. She is the first evangelist, the first to share the good news that Jesus is Lord. Her belief in Jesus changes her life in radical, real ways that impact her entire community. She is held up as an example to follow, because she accepted the invitation to drink living water.

Not all liquids are created equal. Some lead us into a false sense of security, perhaps like the relationships that had promised this woman, Saint Photina, security over the years. The things that we choose to turn to for sustenance can instead do real damage. Things like unhealthy relationships, addictions, the prosperity gospel, pride, these things lead to a dehydration of the spirit.

May we instead turn to the living water, and may we become vessels sharing that water with the whole world!

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[1] David Lose, In the Meantime Lent 3 A: Living Water, Living Faith

[2] Jill Duffield, The Presbyterian Outlook 3^rd Sunday in Lent

Salt and Light

I remember my grandmother making a comment about salty language one day. I can’t remember the exact context, I think my Grandfather had hurt his hand digging in their garden, but I can’t be certain. The look on her face let me know that whatever salty meant, it was not something one wanted to be.

Salt gets a bad rap in our day and time as well. While we may not often call foul language salty, we are told to limit our salt intake for healthier hearts. Too much salt will dehydrate you, but too little and your electrolytes go out of whack. Too much and your eggs taste terrible, too little and you can’t taste your eggs. Salt is a tricky thing.

Light is not much better. We must use sunscreen to protect us from ultraviolet light, but if we don’t get enough ultraviolet light we are vitamin D deficient and are more likely to have depression and other illnesses. A bright light is useful when you are looking for a needle you have dropped, but in a movie theater it is considered a nuisance. Light is a tricky thing.

Jesus uses these two descriptors, salt and light, to talk about his disciples, and us. Salt and light, essential for life on this planet, but in the wrong amounts unhealthy at best, harmful in the worst of cases. But what I find really interesting is that Jesus says “You are salt. You are light.”

There is no like, there is no, you should be or could be, only you are.

We can no more control that we are the light and salt than we can control the rising and setting of the sun or the crashing of the waves upon the shore. You, yes you, are salt. You, yes you are light.

Salt is often used to bring out the flavor of foods. Salt makes sweet things sweeter. That’s why so many people put salt on a watermelon and why salted caramel is such a big thing.

Light illuminate’s dark places. It helps make things clear, define situations, bring things into focus.

You are salt, Jesus says.

You are light Jesus says.

It makes me wonder, what are we enhancing? What are we illuminating? What part of the world would miss us if we were gone?

Because by reminding us that we are salt and light, Jesus is telling us that, by our very existence we will make a difference in the world. We will change and hopefully improve things by being as God designs.

Nothing that salt does is for the salt. It doesn’t improve itself by being put with other flavors, its sole purpose is to bring out others flavors. Likewise, light doesn’t benefit itself by shining, it only allows you to see things that you might have otherwise missed.

If we are salt and light my friends, then I must ask, what is our purpose? What is the purpose of a gathering of Christians? Is it too feel better about ourselves? Is it to bring judgement on others? Is it to improve our status?

Archbishop William Temple has said, “The Church is the only organization that exists for those who are not its members.”

The church, the body of Christ exists to help others. We exist, not to come to the church building on Sundays, but to be the church, the body of Christ in the world every day.

We gather together, not as an end unto itself, but as a way of equipping and encouraging one another to go out into the world and live a light filled salty life!

Max Lucado tells a story about a man who lost electricity one day. He was fumbling around looking for some candles and he heard a disturbance in the pantry. He opened the door to find three candles in an argument. As he reached for one it yelled out “No, don’t use me! My gift is singing. I sing songs about light to encourage other candles to burn bright, but I don’t actually ever catch on fire, for then I would burn and who would lead the singing?”

The man put the candle back and reached for another. “Oh, no,” this candle screamed, “Not me. I’m far too young to be burned. Why you only bought me last week. I’m sure I don’t yet know how to shine light that would be of help to anyone. I have too much left to learn.”

The man put the candle back and reached for the third. “Put me down!” it cried “I am an antique! I’ve been in this family for generations. If I shine my light and burn how will all my knowledge be passed down? No, I’m much better off here, talking with the candles that are brought in, telling them what it means to shine so that one day you can see by their light.”

The man put the candle down and slowly closed the door, shaking his head at these candles who were not much more than decorations. As he closed the door he thought he heard them singing “This little light of mine.”

I wonder how often I am like these candles. I wonder how often I am like salt that has lost its flavor. There are times when it would be much easier to focus on the inside, and let needs apart from my family and my close friends go unmet. It would be easier to stand here and sing about loving our neighbor instead of seeking a relationship with our neighbors.

Today, we are blessed to be able to participate in the two sacraments of our Denomination, Baptism and Communion. Both are outward signs of inward acts. God’s grace poured out is signified through the pouring of the water and the elements of bread and wine. These sacraments are to equip us for the work, to remind us of the promise we’ve made to serve the Kingdom of God.

As we participate in these wonderful times together, let us remember that we do these things not for ourselves, but for the benefit of the very kingdom of God.

You are salt.

You are light

You are the body of Christ.

You are a beloved child of God.

The Little Prince

Christ the King Sunday

One of my favorite stories as a child was The Little Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exuprey. If you haven’t read it, I suggest you pick it up. It’s a small book about an aviator whose plane has difficulty in the desert and he is forced to stop to repair. In this strange time, he meets a little boy who is a prince. A prince from outer space.

The book begins with this story:

Once when I was six years old I saw a magnificent picture in a book, called True Stories from Nature, about the primeval forest. It was a picture of a boa constrictor in the act of swallowing an animal. Here is a copy of the drawing. In the book, it said: "Boa constrictors swallow their prey whole, without chewing it. After that they are not able to move, and they sleep through the six months that they need for digestion."

I pondered deeply, then, over the adventures of the jungle. And after some work with a colored pencil I succeeded in making my first drawing. My Drawing Number One. It looked something like this:

I showed my masterpiece to the grown-ups, and asked them whether the drawing frightened them.

But they answered: "Frighten? Why should any one be frightened by a hat?"

My drawing was not a picture of a hat. It was a picture of a boa constrictor digesting an elephant. But since the grown-ups were not able to understand it, I made another drawing: I drew the inside of a boa constrictor, so that the grown-ups could see it clearly. They always need to have things explained. My Drawing Number Two looked like this:

The grown-ups' response, this time, was to advise me to lay aside my drawings of boa constrictors, whether from the inside or the outside, and devote myself instead to geography, history, arithmetic, and grammar. That is why, at the age of six, I gave up what might have been a magnificent career as a painter. I had been disheartened by the failure of my Drawing Number One and my Drawing Number Two. Grown-ups never understand anything by themselves, and it is tiresome for children to be always and forever explaining things to them.

When I look at the picture painted for us today in Luke’s Gospel there are times when I get that feeling of reading the Little Prince all over again. When I look at it from one perspective it seems like nothing more than the cruel and unusual punishment inflicted upon an innocent man. It looks like failure. It looks like loss. It looks like the end.

I’m sure that is the view the soldiers had that day. They saw a defeated man, whom they could treat mercilessly. I’m not sure that they really saw a man at all. In order to commit such acts of violence against another you must stop seeing them as human, as equal, as real.

When those who placed Jesus upon that cross, whether by their hands or by their voices and commands, viewed the scene they saw the end. The end of people fighting against them. The end of their fear of losing power. The end of uprisings and rabble rousers. If they could put down the seeds of rebellion fast enough, harshly enough, then it would not rear its ugly head again.

When the Pharisees and Sadducees watched the crucifixion, they saw the end. The end of people questioning the status quo. The end of people daring to speak up. The end of someone threatening their power, their place, their prestige.

And while a sign hung above his head that said “This is the King of the Jews”, they did not see him as king.

When the followers of Jesus watched this crucifixion, with tear filled eyes and grief filled hearts. They too thought it was the end. The end of the life they had begun to finally live. The end of their hoped-for rebellion. The end of their dreams.

But a shift in perspective, from the crowd below to the thief next to Jesus tells a different story. This man sees something that the others cannot see. He has a hope that the others dare not dream. He looks at Jesus, dying the same death as Jesus, only his is deserved per his own words, and what does he see?

“Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.” Your kingdom. He sees the King of Glory, Prince of Peace, King of Kings. And with all the strength he can muster, which would not have been much, he asks to be remembered by Jesus.

Jesus, the name means “The Lord Saves” or “He saves.” The crucified thief says Savior, remember me. He sees not the end, but the beginning.

The thief sees this moment as a moment of the ushering in of God’s kingdom. He’s not sure exactly what it will hold, but he knows there will be something, for he asks Jesus to remember him. Jesus tells him something even better than a yes. He says “Today you will be with me in paradise.” This is the beginning, not the end that everyone has seen up to this point. It is the beginning, of new life, and that life abundant!

It is the beginning of a new way, one ushered in through the death of an innocent man.

Today, in Luke’s Gospel is used as the moment when God’s salvation breaks through. In Luke 4:21 Jesus says “Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.” In Luke 19 Jesus tells Zacchaeus “I am going to your house Today” indicating that he is bringing salvation to Zacchaeus’ house.

Today, the Kingdom of God breaks into our ordinary lives.

Today, Jesus calls to us welcoming us to his kingdom.

Today, Jesus offers us his presence, to be with us always, even to the end of the age.

What so many have seen as the end, is really the beginning

A twist in perspective, a turn of the lens, a change in the way we look at things, looking through new eyes as new creations, we see this unexpected, unequaled King Jesus.

Friends, let us not be content to look at the picture before us and see what the world sees.

When the piolet in The Little Prince shows his work to fellow adults they always say “it is a hat.” Then he knows he cannot talk with them about the things of his imagination. When the little prince first sees it he knows instantly what it is and asks him to draw a sheep. They see things from the same perspective.

When we see the picture painted by this passage in Luke, let us see it not as the end, but as the beginning. We know that this moment ushered in new life. We see, not a defeated man, but a king, the King of Glory.

May we celebrate that fact; may we see salvation where the world sees suffering. May we see hope where the world sees death. May we know that this is not the end, but the beginning of the Reign of Christ the King!

Testify

Luke 21:5-19

“Joy to the world, the election is over, at least for two more years!”  While that might not be the good news you all were expecting to hear this morning, it is the good news I’ve been clinging to since Tuesday night.

This election process has left me feeling worn down, beat up and stressed out. I think it revealed to us that there is a lot of division in the country and that we need to get better at listening to one another instead of talking at one another.

The thing that I’ve struggled with this week is how we as a community of faith can come together and heal through all of this. Some of us are very excited. The candidate of our choice won and we are happy. We want to celebrate. Others of us are disappointed that our candidate lost. We want to mourn, we are afraid, we are anything but celebratory.

My challenge as your pastor is to try to help us all navigate through our experiences and to recognize that God is active in all that is going on today. With the fear, with the division, with the exuberance, with the joy. How do we find hope together?

And then, the lectionary gives us this reading from Luke about stones crumbling on from another and wars and I just want to toss my hands in the air.

But I won’t. I’ll pull myself together and get down to business. This passage in Luke is a fascinating read. It has been read as apocalyptic literature at its best. Descriptions of wars, natural disasters, persecution, imprisonment are peppered throughout. But, and this is a big but, it’s not about the end of the world.

That’s right, this is not a passage about the end of the world, or even the second coming of Christ. This is a passage about the temple and its upcoming destruction.

Luke wrote this passage around the year 90 in the common era. This tells of some of the collected sayings of Jesus, particularly his words about the temple, which had been destroyed in year 70, some twenty years before this Gospel. This is Jesus giving an amazing empowering message to a people who don’t yet know they need it, and to those of us who have already realized that structures and leadership can and will fail us.

Jesus tells those that are admiring the splendor of the temple that one day, soon, this temple will fall. No stone will be left on top of another. This would mean a shift in the way Israel worships. If there was no Temple, then where will they sacrifice? If there is no temple where can they go to be near the Holy of Holies? If there is no temple their entire way of life must change.

Not only does Jesus tell them there will be no temple, but that before that happens there will be war. There will be earthquakes. There will be famine. There will be signs in the heavens. Things will be more unstable then you’ve seen them before.

And wait, Jesus says, that’s not all!

You will face persecution. You will be hunted down for your faith by the religious leaders and civic leaders. You will be put in chains.

None of this sounds like good gospel news, does it? The world as you know it will fall apart, you will lose your freedoms. Not what any of us would sign up for.

Then we get to verse 13. This will give you an opportunity to testify.

All of this will happen, so that you can tell the good news of Jesus Christ, not when you’ve been pulled through your suffering, but right smack dab in the middle of that suffering.

You will be betrayed, hated by family and friends, but Jesus will be with you, giving you the testimony you need to bear witness to God.

Wow. This is intense. Luke is paving the way for an introduction to the Acts of the Apostles, a chronicle of what the apostles did after Jesus’ death and resurrection. How they were indeed persecuted, chained up, and yet given the chance to speak the word of God in the midst of those trials and sufferings.

Too often when I think of testimony or testifying in a spiritual context I think of it as sharing that good things that have happened. Sharing about a healing. Sharing about a bad thing turned good, and I think those are important things to share. But I think the kind of testifying Jesus is referring to here is that midst of the storm no end in sight testimony. Those words that acknowledge God is God no matter what the world may look like.

These testimonies come from the mouth of a woman who has just lost a child, grieving, but saying that God knows what it is like to lose a son.

They come from the lips of the dying who offer hope to those keeping vigil.

They come from the mouths of children who offer comfort by sharing their meals with the homeless man or woman on the side walk.

They come from people like you and like me, who are living through pain right now and still seeking God’s face.

In a moment, I’m going to ask you all to do something uncomfortable. I’m going to ask you to testify. I want you to be open and honest about what’s going on in your life I want you to share where you see God or where you struggle to see God. I want us to share our testimony with one another so that it will be easier to share it with those on the outside of these walls.

I’ll start. (share)

I now invite you to share in groups or with everyone your own testimony.

(allow time to share)

I’d like to close with one last testimony. The church musician Thomas Dorsey was born in 1889 in Georgia. He became a musician and spent time in the world of church music and in the clubs of the time. He eventually chose to focus on sacred music exclusively.

“In August of 1932, Dorsey left his pregnant wife in Chicago and traveled to a large revival meeting in St. Louis. After the first night of the revival Dorsey was handed a telegram which said “Your wife just died.” Dorsey raced home and learned that his wife had given birth to a son before dying in childbirth. The next day his son died as well. Dorsey buried them in the same casket and withdrew in sorrow and agony from his family and friends.  

While still in the midst of despair, Dorsey said that as he sat in front of a piano, a feeling of peace washed over him. He heard a melody in his head that he had never heard before and began to play it on the piano. That night Dorsey recorded this testimony while in the midst of suffering[i]”

Let us together join in his testimony singing, Precious Lord, take my hand.

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[i] Story retold by Nancy Lynne Westfield in Feasting on the Word Year C volume 4

One Bride for Seven Brothers

Luke 20:27-40

The first time I went to Steve’s grandmother’s house I was amazed. There was furniture everywhere. Three dressers in the dining room to hold various linens, curio cabinets filled with choochkies, tables of various sizes and uses. The house was pulled together beautifully, but there was a lot of stuff. It was a lot to take in.

The next time I went I looked a little bit more closely at the items around. And I noticed that there were stickers or labels on almost everything. They said Jim, Donny, Kelly, Heather, Steve, Gladys, Shela, and Cheryl. She caught me looking at them quizzically and explained quite quickly. “Those are the names of who gets what. If your name is on it, when I die, it’s yours.” She didn’t want her children arguing over her things, so she decided in advance who got what, and she expected her wishes to be fulfilled.

The first visit I made to Steve’s parents’ house after we were married was filled with very similar conversations. They told me where the important papers were, just in case. They showed me what furniture was Kelly’s and which was Steve’s. They even took me to the storage building to see which tools would go to which child. And every time we visited after that some version of that conversation would occur.

Some of you may be very familiar with these kinds of conversations. I didn’t grow up with them. I haven’t figured out if that’s because my extended family never really had much to argue over property wise, or if it’s because my Dad and his Dad had the same attitude “You aren’t going to get much of an inheritance,” he says, “It is my intention to watch you enjoy the blessings I can share while I’m still alive.”

Perhaps on All Saints Celebration Sunday it seems a bit odd to talk about inheritances. Isn’t it callous to think of the dead in terms of what they have left for us? And what does that have to do with the one bride for seven brothers scripture anyway?

The answer to the first question is, no. It’s not callus to think of the dead in terms of what they have left us, as long as we are not just talking about material things.

The answer to the second question is, it goes along perfectly with the scripture for today.

In our lesson from Luke Jesus has made his triumphal entry into Jerusalem. You remember that entry of course, riding an unridden colt, people laying down their cloaks and waving palm branches? After this he goes into the city teaching and listening all the while heading to the cross.

In walk the Sadducees. We have not heard any other conversation between Jesus and the Sadducees in Luke. This is the first time they have spoken. Why might this be? Because the Sadducees believed that the place to worship God was at the temple, and only at the temple. Therefore, Sadducees were found where the temple was.

They have no doubt heard from other religious leaders the tales of this Rabbi. They have heard of his teaching, of his ability to draw a crowd, of his miraculous acts. A group decides to get close enough to test the mantle of this vagabond preacher so they ask a question.

““Teacher, Moses wrote for us that if a man’s brother dies, leaving a wife but no children, the man^[b] shall marry the widow and raise up children for his brother. ²⁹ Now there were seven brothers; the first married, and died childless; ³⁰ then the second ³¹ and the third married her, and so in the same way all seven died childless.³² Finally the woman also died. ³³ In the resurrection, therefore, whose wife will the woman be? For the seven had married her.”

What an interesting question! It takes a lot of mental gymnastics to unravel, some knowledge of the Old Testament idea of levirate marriage. But Jesus can work this one out in his sleep, right?

Only the Sadducees don’t want an answer to that question, whose wife will she be. They are trying to catch Jesus in an unwinnable argument. How do we know that? Luke tells us right up front, the Sadducees who don’t believe in the resurrection of the dead. These men don’t even believe in the resurrection. They believe that this life is all you get, so follow the rules, worship in the right place, live well and your eternity will be what you leave behind, what inheritance you can offer as a legacy.

Sometimes we can get so caught up in what our legacy is, what we are leaving behind, that we forget to live now. Sometimes we can be so focused on getting to heaven that we forget to live as resurrection people now.

Jesus knew that the Sadducees had no real belief in the resurrection, he saw their question for what it was, an attempt to put Jesus into a box, to pin him down so that they could openly reject him, so they might have just cause to end his ministry.

But Jesus doesn’t play by their rules. He doesn’t get caught up in their question. Instead he makes perhaps one of the most liberating, most amazing, most radical statement that we never hear.

To understand let’s get a bit of a background on marriage in biblical times. Marriage was a contract entered into by a man and another man. Yes, you heard me right. Marriage was a contract between two men. The bride’s father, and the groom. The bride had no legal say in the matter. Very often she was not consulted on her willingness to be married at all let alone to the person she is sold to.

Yes, I said sold. There was a bride’s price paid by the groom’s family for a bride. This was an economic transaction. You paid for the bride a certain price based on age, social status, virginity and these prices fluctuated with the market.

This question the Sadducees asked was whose wife will she be, and at its heart this is a question not of relationship, but of ownership. Who will be her husband? Who will be the one responsible for her in the afterlife?

Jesus’ response is amazing. Marriage will not be an issue in the resurrection of the dead. People will not enter into such contracts with one another. People will no longer marry or be given in marriage. People will no longer be sold. The contractual nature of marriage as was known in the 1^st century will not be needed in the afterlife. Resurrection people will know how to care for each other without looking to profit from that. Resurrection people will understand relationships and mutuality.

Think about that for a moment. Resurrection people will not sell one another. There primary identity will be that of a child of God, not husband or wife, father or mother, but a child of God. The relationship with God will be the primary relationship, all other relationships will stem from that one.

Wow! Can you imagine what that will be like? The first thing you will think when you see someone else will be, family, another child of God. Not, I don’t like his hair, or her teeth, or his politics, or her voice. They are a child of the Living God.

Some scribes reply to Jesus saying “You have answered well.” Note that these scribes are not Sadducees, but rather other teachers of the law. Jesus has not played the Sadducees game and has if fact said that their worry about inheritance is unnecessary.

So, what does this mean for us today in Huntsville, AL? What does this say to us two days from an election that has caused a lot of division and aggravation the past 18 months?

I believe, with all my heart, that we are called to be resurrection people, citizens of the kingdom of God, children of the Almighty, in the present and not yet kingdom. As resurrection people, we should live in the way Jesus describes- not selling people, aware of their inherent value as fellow children of God, fellow image bearers of God.

The legacy we have inherited from those who have gone before us has lead us to this place. We have benefitted from their faith. We have been blessed by their belief. We have been lifted by their prayers. But to remember their legacy is not enough. For God is a God of the living!

I ask, when we think of those matriarchs and patriarchs that have gone before, when we say things like “Those are big shoes to fill” or “We need more people like her or him” what are we saying? Are we standing there looking at the footprints hoping that someone else might step up? Are we looking around expecting another person to become the one that helps?

Let me be frank, if those of us here today are unwilling to step into those shoes, then there will not a be a Christ Church to leave as a legacy to Wyatt and Everett, to Madeline, Genevieve and Aylee.

If we live as resurrection people, acknowledging God’s love for all, then we will reach out to share that love with all. We will give joyfully to our sisters and brothers in need. We will respond with all that we are to God’s call because God is our primary relationship.

In the big things and in the small things, we have the chance to be the people of God. When you vote, if you haven’t already, take time to remember that everyone there, even the people who disagree with you, are God’s image bearers, and treat them as such. Remember that everyone running, yes, even Him, even her, are the image bearers of Christ. Pray for them both accordingly.

When you take these boxes home tonight, remember the children who you will be helping. The boys and girls in Haiti who will receive food and education through these funds, the boys and girls whose hair will grow back once their nutrition issues are addressed. Think of the families that will be reached with God’s love because one of the least of these was shown love.

May we, as resurrection people, carry the legacy of our Father in heaven with us willingly. May we step up and show love in action. Let us not wait to see what people do with what we leave behind. Let us help them enjoy the love of God in the here and now. Amen.

Wee little Man

Luke 19:1-9

Signs, signs everywhere a sign

Blocking out the scenery, breaking my mind

Do this don’t do that, can’t you read the signs.

This song by the Five Man Electric Band was a song of protest, but it also is a song about judgement. The first verse says “The sign says Long haired freaky people need not apply. So I tucked my hair up under my hat and I went in to ask him why. He said “You look like a fine upstanding young man, I think you’ll do.” I took off my hat and said imagine that, huh, me working for you!

How often have we let the way someone looks, dresses, styles their hair, affect the way we view them? How often have we let stereotypes about professions, schools, race, gender, religion cloud the way we see someone else?

We all have our own judgements, and some are well deserved.  But when these things get in the way of us hearing the word proclaimed, or witnessing God’s grace they need to be put aside.

Today’s scripture lesson can be difficult to hear when we look at it through cultural stereotypes or even our own stereotypes. The typical interpretation of this story is as follows:

Once upon a time Jesus was going into a city and people were excited to see him. The news traveled to a short man in the crowd who happened to be a tax collector (cue the boos). He couldn’t see the guy everyone was talking about so he chooses to climb a tree.

Jesus was walking past and noticed this strange man up in a tree. He looks up and tells the man to come down and then invites himself to dinner.

People complain that this short guy, probably with a Napoleon complex, isn’t worth Jesus’ time and effort. After all tax collectors are known sinners, bad hombre’s.

Zac hears these complaints and his pride is hurt. Or maybe just maybe he feels a twinge of guilt. He stands up and says to Jesus and the crowds “I will stop sinning right now. I’ll give half of everything to the poor and if I’ve defrauded anyone, (and they can prove it) I’ll pay back 4 times the amount.”

The crowd rejoices, Jesus says mazel tov and now salvation has come to this house. Everyone celebrates and Jesus moves on toward Jerusalem, one more saved soul on his belt.

That is the happy sanitized version, the VBS, Sunday school version. But I’m not sure that really accurate to the scripture we have, and how the Gospel of Luke intends this story to be seen.

Tax collectors traditionally are seen as bad guys. But time and time again in Luke tax collectors are something different. They are with the crowds that are baptized by John the Baptist. When they ask him what they should do he doesn’t say “Leave your profession because you cannot follow God and be a tax collector.” Instead he tells them to take no more than what they are owed. This indicates that tax collectors were not all sinners, there were some good apples in the mix. They just got painted with the same broad brush and so were tainted by association.

Jesus calls a tax collector to follow him. While Matthew does give up his job, he is seen as someone who will be a part of the inner circle. There is no dramatic change of heart, like we see in the Apostle Paul, rather he is called like Peter and responds. Just as he is, good enough for Jesus.

In our text last week Jesus holds up a man praying publicly crying out to God and beating his breast, aware of his sins and seeking relationship and forgiveness. This man is a what? A tax collector. And Jesus calls him justified.

So our first assumption, that all tax collectors are evil by nature doesn’t fit with the way Luke describes this group of people.

Zacchaeus is in the crowd seeking out the master. We are told that because he was short he could not see Jesus. Well, actually, it is intirely possible that he couldn’t see Jesus because Jesus was short. The term could just as easily apply to Jesus’ height as to Zacchaeus’ in the Greek.  SO perhaps that lovely children’s song really should be Jesus was a wee little man and a wee little man was he.

In our society however, shortness is a bad thing from a leader especially. The shorter candidate rarely becomes the president, for example. To think of Jesus as short shocks the senses and makes many of us squirm. Well, I don’t know for sure his height, but I do know that those pictures of him with blonde hair and blue eyes are not accurate.

Whatever the reason, Jesus’ hight or his own, Jesus finds Zaccheaus up a tree, unwilling to let any obsticales keep him for seeing the master. In his search to see Jesus, Jesus sees him. Jesus comes forward, calls him out of the tree and invites himself for the evening meal.

Who you ate with was a big deal in that culture, as we’ve discussed before, it was much like the junior high lunch room where who you sit with denotes how well liked or popular you are. Jesus is going to the house of a tax collector, who the common world judges based on his occupation and relationship with the Roman oppressors as sinful.

The crowd murmurs, grumbles, complains as they watch these two walk off together. Finally Zacchaeus can take it no longer. He stops and cries out to Jesus and to the crowd still listening.

Before I go into what he says, I want us to pay attention to his body language. What does he do to speak? Does he throw himself at Jesus feet like the repentant have done throughout Luke? Does he beat his breast like the Tax collector from chapter 18? No, he stands there. He stands in the presence of God, and the crowd. This is not a stance of repentance. This is a stance of defiance.

And what does he say? Well if we read from the NRSV or the NIV we hear him say “ I will give half of what I own. I will pay back 4 times what I’ve taken.” But these translations are honestly just bad.

I am not a Greek scholar, even though I studied Greek in seminary. I do however know some Greek scholars and have read the works of many scholars and as lot of them feel this is the worst translated verse in the scriptures. There has been an entire tense in ancient Greek created to be used in this one verse. It’s not used anywhere else in the whole of scripture.

The Common English BIble does a much better job with it. It reads “ Zacchaeus stopped and said to the Lord, “Look, Lord, I give half of my possessions to the poor. And if I have cheated anyone, I repay them four times as much.”

Not I will, but I am doing, its present tense, not future perfect, present as in ongoing. This is not a new promise. This is a declaration of what he is already doing.

And what he is already doing is way above what the law required. The law said give 10% away, to God to care for others. He give 50%. The law said if you defraud someone, pay them back twice as much. He is paying back four times as much.

Zacchaeus, who has been painted with the brush of sinner, is really going above and beyond God’s call. He is doubling what is required of him.

Jesus proclaims that salvation has come to Zacchaeus’ house not for Zacchaeus. Zacchaeus already believes in Jesus as lord, remember he wanted to see the master, a term not used by non-believers in Luke. No, these words are for the crowd to hear. This man, the one you ostracized, is a Son of Abraham, a child of God, a member of my flock. In your presence I say he is one I came to find and he is one I love.”

This is not a story about Zacchaeus’ salvation, this is about his restoration to the people of God. This is Jesus once again showing us that God is at work in places and people that we would never expect. This is the kingdom of God breaking out into the corners of the world that human beings thought were too corrupt to see hope, truth, let alone salvation.

Transformation happens in many different ways. Some have a Saul/Paul experience, a radical change that is life altering. Some have lives of faith that are lived quietly, without fanfare and hoopla, but still faithful.

Two questions arise from this view of Zacchaeus’ tale for me. One, Who do I grumble about? Who is it that I see and think, why would God offer them anything? They are too short, too tall, too big, too skinny, too rich, too poor, too famous, too insignificant, too, so many things.

How often do I let someone else’s outside keep me from valuing them inside?

But the second question is this, what am I doing that is causing grumbling?

Jesus welcomed someone who was unpopular and the crowds complained. Am I showing the radical, inclusive love of God in a way that might make the crowds complain? Am I standing up and saying that God’s love is big enough for all of us, even those that some people think are undesirable? Am I offering good news to all humankind, like the angles offered the shepherds?

This question is the most important to me personally. If I’m really extending God’s grace, there are some who won’t like it. But am I letting fear of their dislike or grumbling keep me from proclaiming the truth I hold so dear?

Jesus issues the invitation to discipleship to all, the invitation to a real relationship. The invitation to wholeness. The invitation to salvation. It is open and available to all. It is not something that we deserve; it’s not something we can earn! It is a gift, a precious gift given because of who God is, not because of who we are!

This invitation is open to all persons, in all places, at all times! Praise be to God that there is no LIMIT to the grace of Christ! There is no person who will be passed by. Isn’t that amazing! I ask, no I beg of us this morning that we not be like the crowds that try to keep people from coming because they are too young, too old, to short, too rich, too fill in the blank. But that we would be like Zacchaeus, so desperate to see the Lord that we would literally go out on a limb for the chance of that contact! All praise and Glory be to God, who is and was and is to come. Amen