The Chasm Between Us: Sermon 18th Sunday After Pentecost

Readings: Amos 6:1-7; Psalm 146; 1 Timothy 6:6-19 ; Luke 16:19-31


Sermon:

The Everlasting Dwelling: Sermon for the 17th Sunday in Ordinary Time after Pentecost

Failed to record the sermon on Sunday. What follows is a manuscript based on the outline I used for the sermon.

Amos 8:4-7 ;Psalm 113; 1 Timothy 2:1-7; Luke 16:1-13

We generally identify with and are identified by those with whom we associate. This is how communities function and form. Are we, am I, part of this group or that? Who gets to say who is in and who is out? Who decides the boundaries? Currently before us is how do we create a pluralist society of tolerance? Is such a society even desirable? To create a homogeneous society or a pluralist one both require some control of association: Moderate Christian’s and Moslems are encouraged to distance themselves from what is labeled as the dangerous and fringe elements of their own religious communities. Diversity has its own limits and boundaries it would seem. What community do you belong to the Christian one or the progressive or conservative one? In response to such questions we hyphenate our selves to admit that we may have more than a singular identity. We become attached to these hyphenated identities and one side of the hyphenation will insist on dominance and so Christians as often as not try to assert their progressive credentials or their conservative credentials. Rarely is the question asked if such activity distorts our witness and Christian identity. Yet what is this Christian identity, should one even seek to identify with Christianity and the Church? Isn’t it better to modify that identity by other values and ideologies? I wonder are we too attached to our identities whether Christian, or American or conservative or progressive, or Queer, or straight, male or female, or androgynous? In becoming attached to our identities do we limit our ability to pray for all people and to make friends for ourselves universally? In being so attached to our identities are we not binding ourselves exclusively to certain economies of truth and ideology? We are seeking permanent homes for ourselves and in the midst of this search Jesus Says “Make Friends for yourselves by means of unjust wealth so that when it is gone, they may welcome you into the everlasting dwelling.” Jesus concludes the puzzling parable of the unjust manager. Do we as followers of Christ seek to make friends in the way the unjust manager has? Are we too? If we are to do so, what might that look like, and how may it change our engagement with the world?

Paul enjoins Pray for all people, especially for Emperors and those in positions of authority as a means of engagement with the world and those with whom we live in the world. This sort of prayer instills in us an attitude and mindset. In prayer I have friendship and commerce with the world through petitions addressed towards God. Prayer acknowledges that God is at work in the world and cares for what and whom we pray. Prayer says we care for what and whom we pray. Prayer is an attitude of friendship. Prayer affects the world through the acts of God and by creating in ourselves a mindset of Friendship towards those for whom we pray. Thus Paul enjoins us to pray for all people to not draw away from those who wield power and who can and do wish us harm. We are through this prayer for all, as a church, to dwell in the world in peace, quiet, piety and dignity. We are not to abase ourselves, nor war against the world, nor add to the chaos of the world, but in confidence engage the world without attachment to these powers and authorities. That is to love the world freely across all boundaries and walls.

Parable of the unjust manager is a story one who crosses all sorts of boundaries. Jesus’ parable is tricky and it refuses to be tied down to a singular meaning. We are thrown by this parable it upends our expectations and our sense of morality and ethics, it causes us to struggle with why Jesus tells this parable and what it tells us to do. It is helpful to remember that parables are not meant to map directly onto a desired action or ethical scenario. Parables are to encounter us and shake us up in order to move us into a place of transformation. So we have multiple possible meanings and are to look for the one thing we are to look for that holds the multiple meanings together. For this parable it is the shrewdness, or the mind set of the unjust manager. The shrewd and unethical behavior shakes us up, disables our ability to judge what we are to take from the parable. We are confronted with things we want to be, and which are disrupted by the story having dishonorable character as the exemplary character. The unjust manager is not loyal to his master or anyone but his own survival. He is unconcerned about wealth, or communities (households). He simply wants to be able to live without begging or back breaking work. He does so by ensuring that no matter his reputation he will have a place to live, because the other heads of households will be indebted to him for saving them money, by having forgiven part of their debt. The unjust manager is not seeking for someone to be loyal to, or to work for again but for a number of households and communities to be friendly towards him and take him in when he is in need, even if they know he is a cheat and a swindler. He has guaranteed that for a time at least in each household he will have a place to stay.

What then is the attitude of the unjust manager that we are to have ourselves as disciples of Jesus? The unjust manager has an attitude of non-attached engagement. Non-attached engagement is the mind set we are to adopt. This is the attitude of God towards the world that is shown in the incarnation. God becomes both human and divine and thus in some sense neither purely divine, nor purely human. God becomes disloyal to God’s own divinity, in order to make friends with God humanity and the whole of creation! We are to take seriously the world in which we live and others we meet and inhabit the world with, just as God did in incarnating in the person of Jesus Christ. Like an unjust manager who has no loyalty to his master but knows the value of things and relationships that can be formed through material things, so we are to value the world we live in but for the purpose of making relationships that are not bounded by any household, or community or economy monetary or ideological.

God in Jesus Christ embraces all things. God is the unjust manager, we too are called to have this carelessness about households and community loyalties, so that all may have dwellings into the ages of ages. The continued dwelling of all forever require this attitude, this shrewd dealing with ourselves and the whole world as non-attached engagement. To seek relationship with all to be at peace retaining our dignity as human beings requires us to transcend ourselves to be simultaneously spiritual and physical. This can be so because God is the unjust manager when God joined God’s self to the material world in Jesus Christ becoming human and divine and thus pure neither. God in order to embrace the whole world in love abandons God’s pure and singular identity, becomes disloyal to that which is spirit. The identity of the church then is a friendship with all that is truly catholic, i.e. embracing all universal and disrupt all loyalties but values persons and communities but in the valuing remains unattached to any particular community or economy. The goal of this is that all may come to know the truth of God love that lead God to care nothing for Gods own identity as God freely became one with humanity and all creation for eternity, dwelling in the love of God.

Lost and Found: Sermon for the 16th Sunday After Pentecost, Ordinary Time

Readings - Exodus 32:7-14 ; Psalm 51:1-10 ; 1 Timothy 1:12-17 ; Luke 15:1-10 :


Sermon:

Sermon 14th Sunday After Pentecost, August 29 2010

Scripture Readings- Sirach 10:12-18; Psalm 112; Hebrews 13:1-8,15-16; Luke 14:1,7-14


Sermon:

Sermon 4th Sunday Ordinary Time, After Epiphany

Bellow is the outline of the Sermon I preached January 31, 2010. It is not the sermon I preached, and perhaps represents as much what I was still wrestling with as I entered the pulpit. I think my sermon as preached had more or less had two foci: Moving our identifying with Jesus to identifying with the people of Nazareth, so we could hear Jesus' word's directed at us. 2) Reading Paul on Love in light of the story of Jesus at Nazareth, emphasizing in away not found in the outline that this Love that Paul talks about is God, and not something we can work up in ourselves or on our own. I think the conclusion was more or less the same, encouraging us to accept the liberation of being dispossessed, even of ourselves, by Love. This is the Gospel and liberation. LEK

Jeremiah 1:4-10 - Psalm 71:1-6 - 1 Corinthians 13:1-13 - Luke 4:21-30
Dispossessed by Love
I) Introduction coming home and coming out
a) What perhaps strikes us first about this story, what strikes me is, that this story (that spans these two weeks), is a story of the difficulty of coming home and asserting one’s identity. Even the pain of coming out to family and the rejection that can follow.
b) All of us probably have stories of leaving and then coming home changed and presenting this new self. The pain and the rejection may very from story to story but it is a common story in our culture. (Fish out of Water, and coming out in the midst of religious hostility against being gay, bisexual, transgender Queer) Though what is a stake also varies depending on the degree that self is acceptable or in conjunction with family societal expectations.
c) But what if this isn’t about Jesus coming home and asserting his identity as Messiah, or at least prophet. What if we aren’t standing with Jesus in this story but with the people of Nazareth?
d) What if this story isn’t about us, but about God who comes and disrupts what we think is our own - our own identity, our ownership? Even if that identity and what is proper to us was won with a great deal of pain and struggle for liberation. What if this story dispossesses not only those people of Nazareth but we who seek to own ourselves, our beliefs our identities? What if this dispossession is the Gospel, the Good news?
II) The story in its context
a) Lets back up- From the side of the people of Nazareth isn’t Jesus being just a little harsh?
b) Crossan and patronage in the ancient world, and the phrase “Is this not Joseph’s Son?”
c) It is likely there was an expectation that Jesus should stay in Nazareth as prophet and miracle worker and messiah, to the benefit and under the control of his village and clan.
d) Jesus is then saying that they do not and cannot own him or the work of God, this is proclamation and the kingdom of God is not for their benefit.
e) The anger of those of Nazareth is that Jesus words dispossesses them of what is rightfully theirs, and thus of himself and of the Kingdom of God.
f) They were Israelites, people of God, surely they had ownership of these good things, and the messiah was one of their own, surely this should come back to them. Jesus said no, the kingdom of God dispossess all of everything.
III) Jesus says God decides where and to whom a prophet goes, no one owns a prophet of God, except God.
a) The proclamation of the Day of the Lords favor, of release to the captives, sight to the blind, is an invitation to be dispossessed by love.
b) This day of the Lord’s favor is the Jubilee, the 50th year in which the economy is in retrograde; everything reverts: If your father or grandfather bought land, that land was to return to the family who originally owned it. Captives, those who were indentured because of debt were freed and released from their debts; it assumes that systems of economy even ones more or less ordered by God, would devolve into situations of injustice. Ownership is put into question, and it asserts God is the only one who owns.
c) Jesus confronts our attempts to possess even our own identities. So that we may be open to true freedom, to the liberation that comes not from knowing who we are and owning our identities but by accepting that we are loved and being possessed by that love that will set us free from all economies of ownership, even that of our identity.
IV Love as dispossession
a) Paul, moves from gifts and the nature of the body of Christ to the essence of it all –love. Not romantic love, but a love that is in fact quite beyond us.
b) Love is patient… does not seek its own way…. If we have love what else do we have – nothing.
c) Love the Love of God, asks us to hold nothing in remainder, to save nothing, to retain nothing of our own, but to surrender all to Love.
d) We own nothing not knowledge, not our faith, all we have is Love which is impossible to possess, who of us can claim to have hold of this Love Paul says that without it we are nothing. We could have everything, but we have nothing without Love. And if we have Love there is nothing else, we have let go of everything, even our own way, what is rightfully our identity, our way of being.
e) Love dispossesses us of all we seek to hold onto so tightly. Only in this dispossession is there true freedom, actual liberation.
IV) In accepting the love that liberates we find we own nothing.
a) Nazareth thought because they were the people of God and of Jesus’ clan that they had ownership of what God was doing, and that they should retain exclusive rights to the coming Kingdom.
b) Jesus says their identity is meaningless. The kingdom of God the Day of Jubilee of the Lords favor sets free and is good news because there is nothing to own, it disrupts any sense of ownership or identity. It Breaks the bonds, heals all blindness and lameness, and enriches the poor precisely because it is the activity of Love, this self-giving of God to alls. Here is liberation and distribution of goods.
c) Not because it takes from some and gives to others, but because it dispossesses everyone, that they may be possessed by Love, by God.
d) God is this love, God is patient, kind, God does not seek God’s own way, but the freedom of all, God endures all things…
e) And God did so most visibly and clearly in Jesus Christ.
f) We are not to identify with and own Christ, but we are to be possessed by this love and be released from all those things we grasp after, all our possessions, they are released in love to God, and God sends and distributes to whom and to where God wills. This is the freedom of love.
g) If we seek to posses ourselves, or all faith and knowledge, we will find that we have nothing unless we find that we in love possesses nothing not even ourselves or our faith: Through this dispossession we find we have in Christ all things through a love that is not our own, but which has taken hold of our hearts and minds and selves, so that all we may become in the life of the Spirit is this all encompassing self-giving love, that owns nothing and yet has everything.

Sermon Third Sunday of Easter

Third Easter RCL year A
Sermon text Luke 24:13-35

The Resurrection and the Worship of the Church:
On our way to Emmaus

Are you on your way to Emmaus? Are we all companions of Cleopas on our way? Are we trying to make sense of the world and our place in it yet struggling to figure out how it all fits together? What is this journey to Emmaus in which Christ interprets our experiences through the Scriptures. What is this encounter of Jesus that is both hidden and revealing? What keeps us from seeing Jesus, and what allows us to see him in the world and in our presence here?

Rev. Jacki Belile in her sermon last Sunday encouraged us to see that in the Resurrection and the appearances of Jesus Christ there was space for us to have our doubts--Space for our questions. In our Gospel today we find questions and doubts once again on that first Easter: Cleopas and his companion have many questions. They are puzzled. The world and the recent events don’t make sense. They have decided to get away just a few miles but about a day’s walk. We are not told why they left Jerusalem, and the Apostles those gathered around them. But it may have been simply to get away from the bustle and all the confusion. To get away from all the theories and probably a good bit of arguing about what it all meant and what to make of an empty tomb. Jesus raises from the dead and still, everything remains unclear and uncertain.

I suggest that Cleopas and his companion are more analogous to us 2000 years after Jesus’ death and resurrection than the doubt of Thomas the Twin. I say this because Cleopas’ and his companions encounter with Jesus is liturgical. For it is in Scriptures and at Table that Cleopas and his companion find Christ and are transformed by the encounter with the risen Christ.

As these two disciples are on their way in the world, at first all they have is their experiences and their set hopes and expectations. Yet their hopes and experiences alone don’t give them any answers. If they were left with their doubts and their own experiences and their own interpretations, they would never have seen the Risen Christ or understood what had happened. They are not left on their own Jesus comes along side them and begins to ask them what they are discussing. Jesus gets them to tell him their sense of what has happened and their interpretations. They are somewhat flabbergasted that someone could be ignorant of the events that have just transpired. However they answer that the prophet Jesus who had done great deeds and had great renown was given over to the Roman authorities for execution by crucifixion. The source of their grief and confusion isn’t only that he was prophet and friend but they had hoped he would be the one who would redeem Israel. This Jesus was not only a prophet but would be the one to bring the end of Roman rule over the people of God. They were expecting a restoration of the kingdom of Israel as the holy people of God with King and temple. Yet then add, Even more puzzling is that there are reports that the tomb of Jesus of Nazareth is empty and the claim of the women who found it is that the resurrection has happened. All of this and their entire experience of Jesus does not makes sense. Nothing about it computes, not the possible resurrection nor the crucifixion and the betrayal of the Jewish leaders through handing over Jesus to the Romans makes sense with their expectations of who Jesus was to be.

Is it really a wonder then that they do not recognize Jesus Christ when he is raised? They did not quite know Jesus before his death and resurrection. Their experience and expectations failed to provide the interpretive framework to make sense not only of what happened but also of Jesus himself. Their experience told them that Jesus was a prophet whom they hoped would be the messiah. On their own with their own experience and reason they could not see what had always been right before their eyes.

Jesus then shows them how the Scriptures actually are fulfilled by the death and resurrection of the messiah, himself. Cleopas and companion listen, intrigued but they still don’t see that it is Jesus who is interpreting the events for them from the Scriptures. Luke does not tell us explicitly what Jesus said, but then all four Gospels are filled with references to the ways in which the life, ministry death and Resurrection of Jesus fulfill the Scriptures. Even as Jesus finishes up and pretends to go on ahead, they still just think of him as a stranger, and they invite him to stay with them. After a long days walk they sit down for a meal, and Jesus takes the bread, blesses it breaks it and gives it to them. And then it all falls into place, at the table with Jesus they see. At that moment of recognition Jesus disappears from their sight. In the breaking of the bread it all makes sense the interpretation of the scriptures, crucifixion and resurrection their own failure to see what was right before them because they did not have all the elements, because their experience had failed them. They needed more than just their own reasoning their own interpretations of scriptures and events. What they needed was for the Scriptures and an encounter with the risen Christ to interpret their experiences and opinions and openness to being transformed by that encounter. So they were and they recognize that the transformation had begun on the way as Jesus interpreted their experiences of Jesus from the Scriptures. Now having seen they realize that their hearts began to burn, what had been cold and lifeless had begun to come to life.

In response having now seen and understood they return the way they came and find the Apostles and those with them a buzz with the news that Jesus is raised from the dead. That is they return to the church the gathered faithful that group Jesus had formed. There they find that they are not alone, others have encountered the risen Christ with everything reinterpreted from that encounter. They have one thing to add that the breaking of bread of the last supper is the place of continual encounter with the Risen Christ.

You might recognize this phrase breaking of the bread and this story from the Eucharist liturgy especially the opening lines of the Covenant liturgy I use most Sundays when I preside at table. This is an important connection between this story and our liturgy and worship. In this story we are to see not only an event that happened two thousand years ago but what is to happen can happen is happening in our worship from week to week. The continual transformation and turning cold hearts warm again and again.

We come to worship in the midst of our lives at times they can be difficult and confusing. We sing and pray, but we also hear the Scriptures both the Hebrew Scriptures and their interpretation in light of Jesus Christ crucified and raised again found the New Testament Scriptures. These scriptures not only show us what God has done but are to interpret our experiences in light of Jesus Christ. Yet the Scriptures remain powerless without the encounter with Jesus around the table in Bread and wine. It is here for us that we meet and encounter the risen Christ and are able then to see and encounter Jesus and God in a world, which is a confusing and ambiguous and not infrequently an evil place. Our lives don’t make sense of this liturgy and the scriptures and the Eucharist. We come with all our lives the ups and downs: we come with our joys sorrows doubts and hopes. Then gathered around Word and Table in order that our lives are interpreted and given meaning by the liturgy and our worship. Sometimes some of us will be more able to see and so we come together also to encourage each other, but through reminding each other that it is here that we know we have encountered Christ. Gathered together in the midst of our journey we hear the scriptures and their interpretation and meet Jesus in bread and wine so that our lives take on a meaning beyond what we can experience and interpret on our own. So that our hearts may be kindled with warmth and life. On our own we our like Cleopas and his companion earnest, faithful but puzzled and confused, not knowing what to make of the world we find. In the liturgy we discover that it is God who gives meaning to life, and we encounter the Risen Christ, and he is made known to us in the breaking of the bread.

We then are Cleopas’ companions on the road to Emmaus on the way to encountering Christ. We come to our worship with the experiences of the previous week perhaps having lost sight of Christ and God. We hear the Scriptures to allow them to interpret our experiences and ourselves and to hear again what God has done in Jesus Christ. This begins to transform us and then we come to break bread and drink wine where we find Christ and are fed by him. In this we are transformed. In this is the transformation of the world as we who have gathered around Jesus seeking again and again to encounter him as the one through whom God has overturned the ways of the world. The way to Emmaus is the road of transformation; it is the path of Christian worship found in the liturgy it is the meaning of Holy Communion. The way of Emmaus is the place of our encounter of the risen Christ. It is only through this encounter that we are able to see God and Christ in the world; in the poor, the suffering, the oppressed and the stranger. It gives us sight and warms our hearts to new life.

Sermon Proper 28 (33) Year C 2007
Church of Jesus Christ, Reconciler
November 8, 2007

Rev. Tripp Hudgins, preacher

Isaiah 65:17-25
Luke 21:5-19

The Call Remains the Same

You will hear rumors.
You will hear rumors of things coming to an end.
They are not lies. Wars and rumors of wars...
The ending you see before you is real. Make no mistake.
But it might not be what you think it is.
It might not be the ending you fear.

What we are encountering tonight is the fulfillment of God's blessing. It's that kind of ending.

Endings and Blessings...Sometimes the fulfillment of a blessing such as an ending begs our endurance. A blessing may be difficult to receive.

Once, early in our tenure here at Immanuel, I stood in the pulpit and preached as if the place were full. We had been worshiping in the front part of the chapel. We would leave the tables for Bible Study set up thinking that there was no point to taking them down. There were only three of four of us worshiping together...seven or so if all clergy and the congregation were present. It was cozy and comforting to be gathered together up front.

But then it occurred to us that this was not hopeful....cozy and comforting, but not hopeful. Somehow we were not evoking hope in the way we used the space. We needed to open our minds, our imaginations and hearts. It wasn't easy. We had to open up the space. And that's a recipe for vulnerability. Vulnerability can be frightening.

Well, that's what I remember. All history is revisionist after all, right? Ask someone else who was here then for their version of the story. It's a good idea.

I remember that I stood in the pulpit and gave voice to the thoughts of the Pastoral Team and shared a vision of the space filled, of children playing in the back of the space, of the preacher needing to stand in the pulpit because it was the best way to be seen and heard by everyone. It was a lovely vision to share...a lovely vision to imagine.

Within weeks, it seems to me, people came. We were hopeful. We made room for people who we did not know would even come...people we had not met. And it was a wise thing to do. It was a hopeful thing to do. God works through our hopefulness. It's not magic. It's not easy. It takes endurance...tremendous endurance. But I learned something important during that time in our history.

Our own acts of hopefulness are preparation for God's acts of Grace.

Now, look at us. There are nights when we fill this space. We are constantly seeking ways to be open to visitors, to seek new people, to share God's Gospel. We want to provide a safe place to be challenged and upheld by it. We proclaim hope. We proclaim God's enduring presence.

Tonight, however, we also mark a change. Maybe it's more significant than I imagine.
Maybe it's less. Only time will tell.

I'm leaving. It is the hardest thing I've had to do in quite some time. And it does break my heart. But I want you to know...as difficult as this is, as saddened as I am...my leaving is an act of hope, an act of trust in God, and a way perhaps to make room for someone we have not yet met.

I want you all to know that I am as hopeful tonight about the future of Reconciler as I was the night we set up all the chairs for the very first time for people who had not yet arrived...for many of you. We opened up the space and we opened up our hearts. This is Christian hope. This is a way to offer the Kingdom of God.

Offering the Kingdom of God is tricky business. Isaiah struggles with it. Jesus, too, wrestles with those around him. It is as if the Kingdom were somehow ephemeral or slippery. Has there ever been so powerful a thing as the Kingdom of Heaven? And yet...and yet...It is hard to see, hard to imagine, and hard to share. But share it we must.

We have a vocation here at Reconciler, a call. The call upon Reconciler is the same tonight as it was that night almost two years ago.

We are called to have enduring hope. You shall proclaim to all:

Surely God is my salvation; I will trust, and will not be afraid,
for the LORD GOD is my strength and my might;
he has become my salvation.
With joy you will draw water from the wells of salvation.
And you will say in that day: Give thanks to the LORD, call on his name;
make known his deeds among the nations; proclaim that his name is exalted.
Sing praises to the LORD, for he has done gloriously;
let this be known in all the earth.
Shout aloud and sing for joy...for great in your midst is the Holy One of Israel.

Yes, things are different now. I am always shocked at how mercurial a church like this can be. One day it's a project. The next day it's a congregation. One day there are four of us. The next day there are 25 of us and some of them are from the Salvation Army. Astounding! God bless the Salvation Army and their children.

The community will shift and grow. No church is static. Every church is organic. It shifts and moves, grows and shrinks. But the vision, the basic call upon us does not change.

The call remains.

Proclaim the Kingdom of God, the Peaceable Kingdom. It is always new...it is always becoming. It is never static. It is always organic, free and uncontrollable. Show it to people in how you live together...how you welcome the stranger and how you send out disciples.

Proclaim Christ...crucified, died and resurrected. Proclaim him when you encounter him in the world. Proclaim him in the persecuted and abandoned. Love Christ. Clothe, feed and heal.

Proclaim the end that Isaiah and Jesus proclaim in all that you do.
Proclaim God's loving judgment to all the world.
Praise God with the Psalmist.
Hold one another accountable with Paul.

Brothers and sisters, do not be weary in doing what is right.

It takes time. You'll have to pace yourself. It's a marathon and not a sprint....Life in Christ is an endurance event. It will seldom be easy. But it will bring blessing upon blessing into your own lives and into the lives of others. You will be a blessing to those whom you have not yet met, to numbers you have not yet imagined.

You have blessed my life. My time with you has been a blessing. It now comes to an end...a blessing fulfilled that will, I pray, continue to bear fruit for all of us.

And for this I thank you. I praise God for you.

May God's peace and all good things be yours.

Amen.

Sermon: Proper 22 (27) Year C 2007

Sermon Proper 22 (27) Year C 2007
October 7, 2007 World Communion Sunday
Church of Jesus Christ, Reconciler
Rev. Tripp Hudgins, preacher

Luke 17:5-10; Habakkuk 1:1-4; 2:1-4

Reaching Out to Reach In

"O Lord, increase my faith!" Show me how to love. Make me love you more. Make me more faithful! You can do it! I want to be more faithful.

What a response from Jesus.

First, he tells the disciples that they don't have much faith (if any) in the first place.

"If you had faith the size of a mustard seed, you could say to this mulberry tree, 'Be uprooted and planted in the sea,' and it would obey you."

Let me tell you a little something about faith, says Jesus. The disciples and the others gathered to listen are missing the point entirely. So he offers up a metaphor about slavery and the expectations of the landowners. He equates these expectations with the expectations of God.

Just do what your told. Feed the hungry. Clothe the poor. Do justice. Love mercy. Pray. Sing. Be obedient. When you gather, do this in remembrance of me. There are no strokes in it for you. There is no reward here in it for you. There is no praise to be had here. Not now. If you want faithfulness, know your place first. Be fully obedient to God. Be a slave.

Sisters and brothers, I promise you that this kind of word was as popular in Jesus' day as it is now.

They were slaves. The people in Jesus' company were struggling under the weight of an occupying empire. Their lives were shaped by stories of slavery in Egypt and of exile in Babylon. Why would anyone wish to be a slave?

We say we want faith. We say we want to be closer to God. But then God comes along and says: "Great. Leave all you have and follow me." Or, as in today's reading, "Fabulous! Be my slave."

"Perhaps," we say to ourselves, "God did not understand the request." What Jesus offers is not a popular notion. I don't think it ever was. I am not sure it ever will be.

We want to be moved. We want "meaningfulness" and high emotions. We thrive off of our sense of satisfaction. We are motivated by such emotions. And we should be. But the emotions don't always come. Experience does not always motivate. Worship services don't always move us. Often we are simply more aware of God's absence than we are of God's presence.

Mother Teresa has been in the news a lot lately. The letters she wrote to her confessor are being published. People in various circles have been astounded to discover that Mother Teresa of Calcutta experienced long spiritual droughts, dark nights of the soul. In spite of her tremendous work and the accolades she received from a variety of communities, she still did not feel God's presence. She wrestled like any sane person would.

How can God allow so much suffering? Where is the justice? Where is the mercy? Where is God? Like Habakkuk did so long ago, she cried "Violence!"

What is actually revealed in these letters to her confessor is her surprising faithfulness. As much as we may find ourselves hung up on this proclaimed absence, what these letters underscore is her deep faithfulness in God, her obedience.

She did as she was told with no promises of reward, with no sense of God's presence. She was faithful. She was a servant. She was a slave. This is what it can look like. This is what makes her such a great example. In the end, faithfulness is about obedience and not about the "experience of the divine." The apostles in Luke were in the presence of God incarnate and they still had the questions, the darkness, the struggles. Mother Teresa's experience and example have a scriptural foundation in verses like the one we encounter this morning from Luke and in Habakkuk.

Habakkuk was an interesting person. He's one of my favorites. But I have a bias, you see. Habakkuk was a 7^th Century B.C. Temple prophet. This means that his prophetic ministry was shaped and given context by the public worship of God's chosen people, Israel. Liturgy and prophetic witness. Yeah, I'm biased.

Habakkuk is giving voice to the frustrations of a nation. The Babylonians are bearing down on Jerusalem. God is silent. There stands Habakkuk in the Temple and God is silent. The Temple was God's house. God cannot remain silent while powerful people and their armies take what they want whenever they want. Right? Well, this is Habakkuk's question.

1:2 O LORD, how long shall I cry for help, and you will not listen? Or cry to you "Violence!" and you will not save? 1:3 Why do you make me see wrong-doing and look at trouble? Destruction and violence are before me; strife and contention arise. 1:4 So the law becomes slack and justice never prevails. The wicked surround the righteous-- therefore judgment comes forth perverted.

Habakkuk sees injustice but he does not see God. He and Mother Teresa are in good company. Likely we can all relate to this. We all experience moments of disillusionment and sometimes in dramatic ways, horrific ways.

This time last year we were all in awe and horror at the news of the school shooting in an Amish community. We were horrified that something like this could happen. And we were in awe at the response by the Amish people. They proclaimed love, love of the perpetrator of the crime, love of his family, and love for their own children. When questioned about this response, the leaders of the Amish community stated that they are commanded to love. Their proclaimed love is an act of obedience.

This love was not a denial of the horrors of that day. They professed grief, rage, and remorse. But their guiding light was their willingness, their choice, to be obedient to Christ's commandment: "Love your enemy." In the reporting at least, no one said that they did this because it made them feel good. They were simply obedient.

This is the kind of obedience that Christ asks of us. This is the depth of faith that is asked of us. It is the faith of an Amish community. It is the faith of Mother Teresa. It is the faith of Habakkuk.

What is tremendous about this faithfulness is that it is entirely centered upon other people. This faithfulness does not actually lead us to some escapist place, or to some sectarian sense of Christian community. Look at the examples we have been given. This kind of faithfulness leads us outward into the world. It takes us out of the communities that we know and are comfortable with and encourages us to reach beyond ourselves.

By being faithful as Jesus suggests, we will perform miracles...perform impossible acts like replanting mulberry trees in the sea.

We will feed and clothe and make room in our hearts for the poorest of the poor like Mother Teresa.

We will walk out of our homes and visit our enemies, comforting their wives and children, and ask how we can be of service to them.
We will proclaim a vision of God's righteousness to all the world that will echo through the ages. It has been almost three thousand years and Habakkuk's words still ring out.

2:2 Then the LORD answered me and said: Write the vision; make it plain on tablets, so that a runner may read it. 2:3 For there is still a vision for the appointed time; it speaks of the end, and does not lie. If it seems to tarry, wait for it; it will surely come, it will not delay. 2:4 Look at the proud! Their spirit is not right in them, but the righteous live by their faith.

Jesus says "My yoke is easy. And my burden is light."

We will be called to be obedient...to be taken out of our comfort zones and do impossible things, miraculous things with mulberry trees, or our friends, neighbors, the poor, the needy, and the powerful...

People will be drawn to us because we first go to them. We will reach out in faith. And by so doing we will reach in, discovering deep wells of faithfulness and a church community shaped by growth and an increasing sense of God's presence.

We can live by faith.

Thanks be to God.

Amen.

Sermon: Proper 15 (20) Year C 2007
Church of Jesus Christ, Reconciler
August 19, 2007

Readings

Burning Down the House

How often do we pass the peace of Christ? Every time we gather. Wonderful! Let's try it right now. Seriously.

The peace of the Lord be always with you.
And also with you.
Greet one another with a sign of peace.

We love to speak about how Jesus brings peace. We have images of lilies in the fields. We are not to worry for our lives. Our lives are held in the loving embrace of God. In the nativity story, Matthew's telling of Jesus' birth, angels will appear and proclaim Christ to be the Prince of Peace. Our images of Christ's peacefulness and gentleness are well-founded. We aren't making them up. So what the heck is going on in our Gospel reading this morning from Luke? What is the prophet Jeremiah trying to tell us about the nature of God's judgment?

The Hebrews have always understood the deeply rooted existence of injustice and “wickedness.” In our psalm this morning even the gods are held in contempt because they too have fallen prey to the temptation of oppression and subjugation. Through the psalmist's words the Most High God judges a holy court of other gods.

"How long will you judge unjustly and show partiality to the wicked?

Give justice to the weak and the orphan; maintain the right of the lowly and the destitute.

Rescue the weak and the needy; deliver them from the hand of the wicked."

Jeremiah will say that God's word on such matters is like a fire. It will break open rock with its heat.

This morning we encounter Jesus upsetting the boat. His words are from an age old tradition in Judaism. His words are echoes of the psalmist. They are prophetic like those of Jeremiah. Jesus knows that when we are in the presence of God, the order of things, the world as we know gets turned around. The Prince of Peace is proclaiming something utterly removed from what we imagine as peacefulness. Instead of singing the Eagles' Peaceful Easy Feelin', we have a Jesus singing the Talking Heads' Burning Down the House!

Watch out
You might get what you're after
Cool babies
Strange but not a stranger
I'm an ordinary guy
Burning down the house

Hold tight wait till the party's over
Hold tight were in for nasty weather
There has got to be a way
Burning down the house

Here we are, encountering the disquieting Christ. Here we are encountering the Truth of the Gospel and how, if we are honest with ourselves, it really plays out. You see, the Good News is always good, but it will not necessarily be received peacefully. The world will push against it.

The world will deny it.
The heavens will deny it.
The world will attempt to stifle those who proclaim it.

The world will flee from it.
And when this does not work, the world will co-opt it and find a way to gain more power with the same message.

Telling the truth about God, that God loves the world, that God created it good, actually upsets the world in which we live. Sometimes telling this truth, like telling other truths, causes a lot of trouble. It will burn down the house!

Jesus knows this. Jesus knows that though his message is one of Love, that it will be felt as fire by all. You. Me. The apostles. The Pharisees. Pilate. All of us will encounter a flame. And our houses will fall.

“From now on five in one household will be divided, three against two and two against three; they will be divided: father against son and son against father, mother against daughter and daughter against mother, mother-in-law against her daughter-in-law and daughter-in-law against mother-in-law." (Luke 12:52-53)

Here Jesus seems to attack the most important social structure of the first century. Some say the family is still the most important structure, the lowest common social denominator, or the principal economic unit. And Jesus comes right at it and says that even this, even this will be found wanting in the light of the Love of God. Even this does not measure up. It is not prepared for the Love of Christ.

We cannot rest on our laurels and be satisfied with the status quo. The status quo will fly apart when we speak the truth.

The status quo is comfortable with oppression. It is comfortable with inequity. It is comfortable with violence. It has resigned itself to a world where unfairness is part of the game. It knows that power is real and that some people have none. The status quo revels in this. And we who live in the status quo know how to play the game. We know how to get ahead. We know how to get the leg up. We know how to take advantage of the systems whether they be the tax code, the legal system, or the remnants of our welfare state. We all learn, rich and poor, through cynicism and despair, how to live in the status quo.

Jesus wants to undo this. Jesus' entire ministry is about uncovering this truth about ourselves, about the world, and proclaiming an alternative.

Here's your ticket pack your bag: time for jumpin' overboard
The transportation is here
Close enough but not too far, maybe you know where you are
Fightin' fire with fire

All wet
Hey you might need a raincoat
Shakedown
Dreams walking in broad daylight
Three hun-dred six-ty five de-grees
Burning down the house

Jesus delivers this message of fire and justice on his way to Jerusalem. He knows what will befall him. He is on the way to the cross. He knows that he has to die. He knows that the powers and principalities (the church and the state) will try and put out the fire he started. He has called them out. He has shown his followers what they are really about. He is holding everyone – you, me, us, the apostles, the Pharisees, the government, the religious institutions – accountable for the world in which we find ourselves. And he knows that we cannot handle the critique.

He is a dream walking in broad daylight. We are asleep. And we do not want to awaken...even though our dreams are not sweet. So, Jesus burns down the house.

The powers think that they have put out the fire.
They crucify Jesus.

The followers of Christ will also think that the story is over. They will believe that the fire has been extinguished as well. But no. Two women will run to the tomb and there they will encounter the resurrection. The fire of the Gospel, the Love of God, cannot be extinguished, not even by death. The judgment has come to fruition and even death has no hold on the truth of God's love.

Women come, the downtrodden, the mistaken, the unloved, and they encounter the Risen Christ. And Jesus will appear to others. He will dine with them. He will ask them to continue his work. This fire will be passed on from generation to generation in the church.

Passing the peace of Christ is greeting one another in love. It is upholding one another in gentleness. But the peace of the Lord is a fire. When we pass the peace of Christ with one another, we pass a torch. We pass a flame.

God wants us to share this Love with the world. It is a love that will continue to challenge everything about our lives...the way we engage politics, the way we do business, and the way that we love our mothers, fathers, spouses, and children.

And though the world will push back...we know that there is a Resurrection. We know that though the world always seems to have a step on us, in the end is the Resurrection, God's love fulfilled, the world judged, and though it is found wanting, it is met with grace and forgiveness no less. And we will all be redeemed.

The peace of the Lord be always with you.
And also with you.
Greet one another with the sign of peace.

Amen.

Sermon: Teach Us to Pray

Proper 12 June 29, 2007
Church of Jesus Christ Reconciler
The Rev. Laura Gottardi-Littell, preacher

Gospel: Luke 11:1-13
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In our gospel passage from Luke, a disciple asks Jesus: “Teach us to pray.” Such simple, small words. Such a huge request. The disciple must have seen clearly that prayer was essential to Jesus, that he lived a life soaked in prayer. Luke records many instances of Jesus praying. The disciple likely hungered for some of that prayer action. In Jesus’ time, there were some set prayers that devout Jews could say several times daily. And apparently John the Baptist taught his followers a set prayer. Jesus’s disciple seems to want something like this, but something that comes straight from Jesus.

Teach us to pray. These words reveal a longing. A hunger to communicate with God, and an eagerness to know the right way to talk to God. Perhaps they speak of the disciple’s longing to have the kind of intimacy Jesus had with God.

Teach us to pray. These words jumped out at me when I was reading over this gospel, to prepare for today’s sermon. Because I too long for a deeper and richer prayer life. And I know many Christians, both ordained and lay people, also long for this. It can be tough to develop a steady, rich prayer life in which to ground our action. Many of us live like Martha, a life of doing. It’s hard to make time to just be with God. To sit at the feet of Jesus and listen, like Mary. Because much of praying is hanging out with God, and listening.

Once we do make time to pray, it’s hard to know exactly how to pray. Questions come up. Questions like, if the universe is completely in God’s hands, how can our prayer affect the outcome? That’s one question. Another question is what should we be praying for? For example, is it OK to pray for our own financial health? Yet another question: What words, what methods should I use when I talk to God? There are so ways to pray – which is right? Perhaps some of these questions lie behind the disciple’s request to Jesus:

Teach us to pray. So, how does Jesus answer? In Luke’s gospel, Jesus responds: “When you pray, say this: Father, hallowed be your name. Your kingdom come. Give us each day our daily bread. And forgive us our sins, for we ourselves forgive everyone indebted to us. And do not bring us to the time of trial.”

These simple words Jesus offered his disciple are now the most widely-used prayer in Chistianity. Last Easter, an estimated 2 billion Christians read, recited, or sang the Lord’s prayer in hundreds of languages in churches of all sizes around the world.

Luke’s version of the Lord’s prayer is a bit different from what we usually say in church. It’s shorter. It lacks the doxology added later: “For the kingdom, the power and the glory are yours, now and forever.” In Luke’s version we ask God to “forgive us our sins” where in Mathew’s gospel we ask God to “forgive our debts.” There are some other differences between the prayer as it appears in Luke and Matthew.

For now, let’s just look at the text given us in Luke’s gospel, and unpack, it OK? Let’s take it line by line, and see what it tells us about how to pray.

Father

Jesus starts by addressing God as father. When we pray, we are to talk to God as to a loving parent, with all the intimacy and trust of a healthy relationship between parent and child. That doesn’t mean “father” is the only way we can think or speak of God. But it’s how Jesus speaks to God in this prayer. Out of a childlike (but not childish) trust in God, we are emboldened to ask God for what we seek.

Hallowed be your name.

Hallowed means holy, sacred. “Hallowed be your name” means “May your identity be set apart as holy.” In ancient Israel, name and identity were closely linked. “Hallowed be your name” is a double-sided request 1) we’re asking that God establish god’s own sovereignty on earth and 2) we’re asking that all people will come to revere God.

Your kingdom come completes the thought “Hallowed be your name.” This is an example of Semitic parallelism, where a verse restates, or completes, the verse before it. We see this type of parallelism all the time in the psalms. If God is making God’s name holy on earth, then by extension, God’s kingdom is coming on earth.

“Hallowed be your name” and “Your kingdom come” both mean that we want God’s will to be done, and want to align ourselves with God’s will. When we’re serious about prayer, we increasingly seek to know and conform ourselves to the mind of God. With this goal in mind, we can pray with confidence that a loving God will respond.

Give us each day our daily bread

The first two lines of the Lord’s prayer were about God; the next three are about us. We ask God for sustenance, forgiveness, then deliverance.

First, sustenance. Our daily bread. Luke’s gospel shows us a Jesus who is concerned for the poor, who gives people bread, and partakes in shared meals. Given all this, Jesus is most likely talking about earthly bread here, not the bread of the heavenly banquet, or communion bread. Why should we pray for bread? Well, obviously because we need food to live. Also, it clarifies who we are and who God is. To pray for something as basic as bread reminds us of how tentative a hold we have on life, how dependent we are on God for what we need. It’s humbling, in the sense of humus, Greek for ground. It’s grounding to remind ourselves of our basic needs and who provides them. It’s the opposite of hubris, acting as if we are God. Asking for our daily bread puts us in the position of children, or beggars, with all the dependence that connotes, but not a negative dependency. The God we depend on loves us, and wants to meet our needs.

What does “Give us our daily bread” tell us about prayer? It tells us to ask God for essentials, for the most basic things we need, and not take them for granted. Thanks be to God that you and I have our basic needs covered. At the same time, I think the Lord’s prayer compels us to work for a world where others also get what they need. Paul says in 1st Corinthians 3 that we are co-laborers with God. We work with God to determine the outcome. If that’s the case, then making sure all people have daily bread is a joint project between us and God. Let’s both pray and work for a world with bread for all.

And forgive us our sins, as we forgive those who are indebted to us.

Luke’s gospel says “Forgive us our sins” where Matthew’s says: “Forgive us our debts”
In Aramaic, sin and debt are the same word. At Reconciler, we’ve been talking about which translation we want to use –sins , debts, or trespasses? Whatever language we use, the Lord’s prayer says we’re meant to keep a clean slate in life, not forever tally up what people owe us or dwell on how much they’ve trampled on our turf, spiritually or materially. And we likewise need to accept the forgiveness God and neighbors offer us.

Just as we need daily bread, we need of continual grace. Each day, we’re capable of making mistakes, missing the mark. Grace is a clear flowing stream always available for us to bathe in. And we need that as badly as we need food.

How do you feel when someone holds a grudge against you, or you hold a grudge? Either way, it feels bad, right? How many relationships have ruptured, how many acts of violence committed, how many wars have been fought out of the inability to forgive?

For our own peace of mind, and spiritual wholeness, we need forgiveness. Some things are hard for us to forgive. Sometimes we need to claim and work through our anger first. But if we stay there too long, we can become consumed with bitterness, which destroys us. We have to try to move on, and let others move on. It’s the only healthy way to live.

The grace God gives us and the grace we extend to others flow from the same channel. It’s a simultaneous, interconnected thing, somewhat mysterious. Not quid pro quo, but maybe cause and effect. That is, if we accept God’s grace for ourselves, we find it easier to forgive others. And if we forgive, we find it easier to accept that we too are forgiven.

And do not bring us to the time of trial.
There’s some question about what kind of trials Jesus is talking about. Is it best translated as trials or temptations? And is God the one who tests us? Or Satan? Would God intentionally lead us into trials or temptation? The book of James says no, but the Scriptures are full of examples of God testing his chosen ones (Abraham, Job, Jesus, to name a few). Perhaps “save us from the time of trial” is best understood as “save us from anything that would threaten our allegiance to God or threaten our physical and spiritual survival.”

Trials may mean different things to each of us, but I think most of us can resonate with “Save us from the time of trial” on a gut level. There are trials we would not want to endure. And it’s OK to ask God to deliver us from that which is too great to bear. Jesus asked to be spared, as he prayed in the garden of Gethsemane. Yet he also said: “Lord, not my will but thine be done.”

So that, my friends, is a walk through the Lord’s prayer, as found in Luke’s gospel. A model prayer Jesus gave his disciples, handed down through nearly two millennia to us.

Although it’s a giant in Christian prayer, is it the only way we are to pray?

No. There are many kinds of prayer: prayers for healing, guidance, for the welfare of others. There’s contemplative prayer, in its many forms. These prayers are just as vital.

Jesus wasn’t suggesting this is the only way we should pray. In fact, we don’t know whether Jesus was suggesting his disciple say the Lord’s prayer verbatim, or use it instead as a guideline for how to pray. There are no other instances in the New Testament where Jesus or the disciples pray the Lord’s prayer. But whether Jesus meant us to say those exact words, or was simply offering a model for the kinds of things we ought to pray about, The Lords’ Prayer without question teaches us several vital things about prayer.

These are: 1) Speak to God as to a loving parent who knows you. 2) Try to align yourself with God’s will and help bring about God’s will on earth. 3) Remember your dependence on God for the simplest, most basic things in life: bread, forgiveness, deliverance.

The parables that come after the Lord’s prayer are little sketches that further illustrate how we should pray. In the first parable, Jesus compares God to a dutiful neighbor who will give us bread, even if we wake him in the middle of the night. We may have to be bold and persistent in knocking. God may not answer right away, and may be grumpy, but if we keep knocking, God will answer because God is faithful. The second parable shows us a God who, like a loving father, who knows how to give his children good things. If we ask for a fish, he’s not going to give us a snake. I like that. God loves us and wants to give us what we need.

The danger comes when we act like prayer is a blank check on which we can write whatever our hearts desire (New Interpreter's Bible, Vol.IX). I think of an old Janis Joplin song: “O Lord, won’t you buy me a Mercedes Benz…” Don’t go there. But as an equally old Rolling Stones song says, “If you try sometimes, you just might find, you get what you need.”

Today’s gospel says: “Seek and ye shall find. Ask and it shall be given. Knock and the door shall be opened. Seek God’s kingdom before seeking your our own selfish desires.. Pray for God’s will to be done first, and let your anxieties about how you’ll get your daily bread met be secondary. Speak to God as to a loving parent, with humility and honesty. Knock on God’s door and be persistent, like a secure child who expects a loving response. Be tireless in prayer. Don’t give up. Live a life soaked in prayer, as Jesus did.

Teach us how to pray. Prayer is not about saying exactly the “right” words. It’s about being willing to do the will of God, having our priorities straight, and being in right relationship to God, neighbor, and self. Prayer is not about being perfect. Learning to pray is the task of a lifetime, and we are free to experiment and to make mistakes.

Bishop, theologian, and author William Willimon says:

“The Lord’s Prayer is one of the few things that the disciples asked Jesus to teach them, and he graciously responded. A Christian is someone who is engaged in lifelong training in how to pray like Jesus. Thank God, Jesus does not leave us to our own devices when it comes to prayer. If I were praying on my own, would I pray for something as mundane as daily bread, or I would have the guts to acknowledge that I had actually trespassed against someone? No. There would be no way for me to pray faithfully in Jesus name if he weren’t there every Sunday coaching me, prodding me, saying, “When you pray, say this….”

Teach us to pray, the disciple asked Jesus. And Jesus did. Thanks be to God.

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Sermon
Proper 8, Year C July 1, 2008
Gospel Luke 9: 51-62
The Rev. Laura Gottardi-Littell
Sermon preached at St. Giles Episcopal Church, Northbrook
and Church of Jesus Christ Reconciler, Chicago
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Have you ever felt like arguing with Jesus? Sometime I wrestle with certain passages from Scripture and want to say: “Hey, Jesus, did you really mean that?”

Take today’s gospel passage from Luke.

Jesus has set his face toward Jerusalem. He knows what’s going to happen there. He’s facing his own death. He has left everything behind for the sake of the kingdom and now he’s going to leave even his own life.I think knowing what he’s facing must give him a certain edge, and edginess. That’s why he sounds so…cranky here. He must be profoundly afraid and sorrowful, at least on some level. He has been talking with his disciples about how he is going to suffer. So when people come along and want to follow him, he talks to them in the starkest terms imaginable, because of what he is going through and is about to go through. Perhaps on some level he is also talking to himself.

In today’s gospel, three men seek to follow Jesus. Jesus has a radical message for each of them. He pulls no punches.

Jesus tells the first man that foxes have holes to sleep in and birds have nests, but he, Jesus, has no permanent home. There’s no security in being a Messiah. And followers of the Messiah must likewise be willing to give up security. There are real risks and sacrifices.

Jesus asks the second man to follow him. This man is willing but first wants to bury his father. This was a hugely important duty in 1st century Palestine. The family was expected to provide a proper and timely burial. Jesus’ response to this man is again extreme. “Let the dead bury the dead. You concern yourself with telling people about the kingdom.” Jesus most likely means: “Let the spiritually dead bury the physically dead.” Let others who don’t know Jesus carry out the necessary rituals of Jewish law. But if you have the opportunity to be with Jesus, the bread of life, the living water, grab it and run. Leave what is dead and dying behind.

The third man says: “Let me say good-bye to my family first.” And Jesus again makes harsh demands. There’s not time for that. There’s no looking back, when we set out to do God’s work. Anyone who puts a hand on the plow and turns back isn’t fit for the kingdom.

On one level, I really get what Jesus is saying here. I agree with him. But another part of me feels troubled by this gospel, and wants to present another side of the picture. I think we can honestly wrestle with Scripture. Try it on. See where it fits and where it pinches. Wrestle with it as Jacob wrestled with the angel. Like Jacob, we may emerge from our encounter with both a wound and a blessing.

Here’s where I agree and resonate with Jesus’s message in today’s gospel.

Followers of Christ do at times face hard choices. I think about times I’ve had to stand up and identify myself as a Christian. I have family members and friends who are not believers. When making my adult decision to be Christian, I had to say to myself, here’s what I believe and where I’m making my stand, no matter what they think, even if they make fun of me. And you know…nobody laughed. My family and friends are very supportive of my faith journey, even if they’re not all on the same path.

You too may have family and friends who don’t believe as you do. Some may even challenge your beliefs. Sometimes we have say respectfully and politely: “Here’s where I stand.” And let the spiritually dead alone, in order to nourish seeds of faith in our own souls. We may have to separate – or individuate --from certain places and people, at least for a time, to make our own stand. Shake the dust off our sandals for the sake of the kingdom.

Sometimes we have to leave everything, or almost everything, to follow Jesus. Most of my peers in seminary, myself included, left a job, home, or family, or all of the above, in order to go to seminary. Sacrifices, risks, and goodbyes were required, as people gave up security and relationships to follow Christ.
So those are the ways in which I experience Jesus’s words today as truth.

And here are a few reasons why I wrestle with it.

My grandfather left everything behind for the gospel. After being ordained in the Episcopal church at age 26 he said goodbye to his parents and siblings in Delaware and set out for China, to be a missionary. He faced a long boat passage to China, many risks, not much security. A relative begged him not to go, sure he would encounter terrible diseases and dangerous heathens. Despite the risks, my grandfather served well and faithfully in China. He helped build schools and hospitals, brought many people to Christ, and was honored by the Chinese Red Cross for rescuing many widows and orphans. After serving in China for 30 years, he became Bishop of Hawaii.

My grandfather and grandmother had 8 children. Those 8 children didn’t get a lot of attention from their parents, who were very busy sharing the gospel and building up the kingdom. Yes, the kids had good nannies and were educated in fine schools. But they didn’t get a lot of face time with mom and dad. They were left behind for the sake of the kingdom. My grandparents didn’t intend to neglect them, but that was the net effect. And I wonder, did my grandparents read today’s gospel passage and take it literally?

So you see I am wary, for good reason, of Jesus’ call to leave it all behind for the sake of the kingdom.

Sometimes we can’t just cut and run. We can’t leave our families and other responsibilities to follow Jesus. And we shouldn’t. Today’s epistle reading talks about our responsibility to our neighbor. Paul says that through love we are to become slaves to one another. He says the entire law is summed up in one commandment “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” And who are our neighbors if not our families?

In today’s gospel, Jesus says we shouldn’t put one hand on the plow and look back. But as both priest and mother of small children, I sometimes wonder which is the plow? My vocation or my family? Aren’t they both ways of building up the kingdom? Aren’t they both sacred responsibilities? Aren’t I yoked to both of them?

But as I wrestle with it, I come to some peace. Because I think Jesus is talking in extremes and enigmas, as he often does, to make a point.

I think we have to look at today’s gospel in light of some of Christ’s other teachings Elsewhere in Scripture, Jesus says we should honor and accept children. He criticizes the Pharisees for not honoring their fathers and mothers. And although Jesus leaves his mother, he comes back to her. He calls out to her from the cross. She becomes one of his disciples.

I think the heart of Jesus’s message today is that we need a spirit-centered life. It’s ABOUT BEING FAITHFUL TO OUR MANY COMMITMENTS IN LIGHT OF THE GOSPEL.

Someone once said to me, “You’ll be a much better mother because you’re a priest, and a much better priest because you have children. “ That’s my hope. It’s not an either/or for many of us, as we seek to follow Jesus. It’s a both/and.

What is the purpose of working for the kingdom? Not to be escapist and isolated, not to desert those around us, but to recognize the kingdom within and around us. To increase it in the here and now. These realities are reflected in Benedictine and Celtic approaches to spirituality, that view the whole of life as spirituality. Chopping potatoes, hugging a child, writing a sermon, planting a garden, saying prayers – God is in all these arenas. We can find God in the balance and complexity of life, in the world of flesh and blood. Especially when we are guided by the spirit.

So maybe I don’t have to choose. Maybe Jesus is saying that a spirit-centered life clarifies and prioritizes our relationships. When God is at the center of our lives, we have more to give, not less. And when God isn’t at the center of our souls, anything we love can become an idol.

So I end my wrestling with today’s passage concluding it’s a both/and. There’s a place for that radical urgency – sometimes we are called to cut and run. To give it all up – or at least some of it up -- for Jesus’s sake. And other times…it’s the better part of valor to follow Jesus by building up the kingdom where we’ve been planted. Sometimes we need to run off in search of the kingdom, and sometimes… we’re called to bring the kingdom home.

AMEN.

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