What Pastor Jon Preached on Sunday, June 27th, 2010

Fifth Sunday after Pentecost (Lectionary 13)
1 Kings 19:15-16, 19-21 • Psalm 16 • Galatians 5:1, 13-25 • Luke 9:51-62

When the days drew near for [Jesus] to be taken up, he set his face to go to Jerusalem. And he sent messengers ahead of him. On their way they entered a village of the Samaritans to make ready for him; but they did not receive him, because his face was set toward Jerusalem. When his disciples James and John saw it, they said, "Lord, do you want us to command fire to come down from heaven and consume them?" But he turned and rebuked them. Then they went on to another village. As they were going along the road, someone said to him, "I will follow you wherever you go." And Jesus said to him, "Foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests; but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head." To another he said, "Follow me." But he said, "Lord, first let me go and bury my father." But Jesus said to him, "Let the dead bury their own dead; but as for you, go and proclaim the kingdom of God." Another said, "I will follow you, Lord; but let me first say farewell to those at my home." Jesus said to him, "No one who puts a hand to the plow and looks back is fit for the kingdom of God."

[Pastor Jon bounces a tennis ball with his racquet and tries unsuccessfully to hit several serves.]

I seem to be having trouble with my serve today. My center is off. Many of you may not know that I play tennis. I actually grew up playing tennis in Oak Park and was on the high school team here. One of the many things my pro taught his students was about mind/body principles that were key to hitting a correct tennis stroke. One of these principles is centeredness, and it means we can’t be off balance, or else the shot will not land where we intended or in the court. If body weight goes too much in one direction, the ball gets directed one way. If our body weight goes too much in another direction, the ball gets directed another way. Either way, unless we are centered, we do not even have the opportunity to be in a position to respond to what is coming at us.

We could also, of course, say the same thing about our lives. Without proper balance, we go off kilter, we feel adrift and we don’t have a sense of where we’re headed. At times in our lives it can feel like there is no balance at all, that we’re juggling too many things as we whizz from one thing to the next, bouncing around aimlessly. At other times in our lives there are so few things on our plate—so little to do—that there is nothing at all that needs to be balanced, and we are left with a weighty, empty feeling of “what am I here for?”

At the point we arrive at in Luke’s Gospel today where Jesus has been frenetically going about his first days of public ministry at a breakneck pace. He’s out of balance. He doesn’t have a center. He’s been busily going around Galilee and the surrounding area healing people at the margins, which we heard about the last several Sundays: he’s raising a widow and her son to new life, forgiving a sinful woman, and casting out demons from a possessed man. Whew! It’s time for Jesus to get centered. To remember why it is he has come, the point to which his life is directed.

Chapter 9 verse 51, where we begin today, is a turning point in Luke’s Gospel. If Jesus’ life were a movie, this verse would be a depicted in this way. It would begin with a long, drawn out panning shot… The sands of the desert would be whipping up, the sun would be setting…clearly something is in the air…and then we’d come to a close-up of the face of Jesus, peering at a specific point on the horizon. And as the angle zoomed out, we’d see the buildings of Jerusalem in the distance, and on a hill nearby…three crosses. And then the narrator’s voice comes in: “When the days drew near for Jesus to be taken up, he set his face… to go to Jerusalem.”

The center of Jesus’ life from now on will be Jerusalem. Everything in his ministry from this point is oriented around this final destination of his journey, a journey to the cross. Jesus doesn’t just turn his head…he ‘sets his face’…there’s clarity, purposefulness and intentionality with the direction Jesus’ mission now takes. Jesus now turns his face towards a place of control and exclusion, a place of corruption and greed…He sets his face there to challenge the root causes of unjust oppression, and the causes of our pain…set us free from them with his non-violent resistance, his truth-telling testimony and his compassion towards his neighbors and enemies. Jesus’ center is an evangelical mission whose mind and heart are together set on meeting the greatest pains of the world with his saving power, and of calling others to follow him in sharing the redeeming love and justice of God for all to see.

Jesus finds his center in us. He is the source of restored balance and direction for our lives! He centers his redemption in orienting himself towards us through his life-giving cross. We are both his journey and his destination. As the one who comes to center our lives in himself, Jesus centers us as both our respite who keeps our lives from getting stretched too thin…who, when all we can do is throw our arms up in frustration of how busy we are, gives us shelter under his arms on the cross. And at the same time, Jesus centers and balances us by directing us in his self-giving love for the sake of the life of the world. Jesus is our pathway, our journey… He is the one who sends us out like the ripples that emanate from the waters of our baptisms, to reach out with the healing wholeness of his hands, to bring his sustenance to a starving world.

So, dearly centered ones, do we reflect that Jesus is at the very heart of who we are? Is he embracing us? Is he directing us? We have so many other ways we are offered respite, and other forces that direct us. It’s costly to put Jesus at our center. It’s costly to put going to church ahead of relaxing in bed with the New York Times…and video games…and the World Cup match…that’s going on right now! What are those “first things” for us that we want to put first, before the love of Christ, to orient our lives?

Thankfully, it’s not we who center ourselves; it’s Jesus who places himself at the center of our lives, so that he can live in us, and reveal himself to the world through us. Unbelievably, we don’t have to go anywhere to follow Christ. We can follow him in our lives right now. We can place relationships as priorities over stuff and let Christ be at the heart and soul of who we are. We are called not to hoard our center to ourselves, but to give it away, wherever we may find ourselves.

Last summer at the ELCA Churchwide Assembly I was a first-hand witness to our Christ-centered Presiding Bishop Mark Hanson as he gave his report to open the assembly. He challenged us as the church to reconsider what is at the center of how we think about going to church. Do we consider ourselves to be “a fortress insulated against the world”, he said, or are we “a retreat center called nostalgia, or a franchise competing for consumers in a compeditive religious marketplace, or a military outpost in hostile country seeking to conquer a corrupt culture?” “Or,” he said, “Or, are we a ‘center of evangelical mission’?” Are we a center gathered around the means of grace, [Word and Sacrament]…a center where the gospel of Jesus Christ is heard, lives are forgiven and renewed and sent back out into the world to proclaim God’s work with our hands?? The answer is “yes”! Yes, we are a center, and Jesus, is the one who gives us our center, our respite and our direction. This center is moveable, and it flows down upon the whole world—it’s a center that does not just exist in our churches but it is a center that is alive in our hearts and minds, in our homes, schools, workplaces, city halls, courts and prisons… “Do we really believe the world deserves to hear [the good news of Jesus Christ]?” Bishop Hanson asked us. This center is too good not to want to find it everywhere. It’s this center that can carry us to the needs of this world, where Christ will transform and renew and re-orient our center once again.

Christ centers us. He is our destination and our journey. We’ll find our center, by following him to the cross. He is at our center for the sake of the world’s hurts. His center moves us on a journey that is irresistible yet unknown, with unseen travel conditions, with no guarantee of comfort, with no certainty about where we’ll be led. But he invites us to follow his lead without delay. His center is our gift. So now it’s time to go out and use that gift to take the journey, to find our destination in him, to restore balance…to take up our cross, and pick up our racquets and play the game, to walk the walk of discipleship. With Jesus as our center, he promises to renew and direct us to be in position so we can respond with courage to whatever comes our way. Amen.

What Pastor Jon Preached on Sunday, June 20th, 2010

Fourth Sunday after Pentecost (Lectionary 12)
Isaiah 65:1-9 • Psalm 22:19-28 • Galatians 3:23-29 • Luke 8:26-39

^{27282930313233343536373839}Then they arrived at the country of the Gerasenes, which is opposite Galilee. As he stepped out on land, a man of the city who had demons met him. For a long time he had worn no clothes, and he did not live in a house but in the tombs. When he saw Jesus, he fell down before him and shouted at the top of his voice, “What have you to do with me, Jesus, Son of the Most High God? I beg you, do not torment me”— for Jesus had commanded the unclean spirit to come out of the man. (For many times it had seized him; he was kept under guard and bound with chains and shackles, but he would break the bonds and be driven by the demon into the wilds.) Jesus then asked him, “What is your name?” He said, “Legion”; for many demons had entered him. They begged him not to order them to go back into the abyss. Now there on the hillside a large herd of swine was feeding; and the demons begged Jesus to let them enter these. So he gave them permission. Then the demons came out of the man and entered the swine, and the herd rushed down the steep bank into the lake and was drowned. When the swineherds saw what had happened, they ran off and told it in the city and in the country. Then people came out to see what had happened, and when they came to Jesus, they found the man from whom the demons had gone sitting at the feet of Jesus, clothed and in his right mind. And they were afraid. Those who had seen it told them how the one who had been possessed by demons had been healed. Then all the people of the surrounding country of the Gerasenes asked Jesus to leave them; for they were seized with great fear. So he got into the boat and returned. The man from whom the demons had gone begged that he might be with him; but Jesus sent him away, saying, “Return to your home, and declare how much God has done for you.” So he went away, proclaiming throughout the city how much Jesus had done for him.

We may want to think that the story of this demon-possessed Gerasene man happened a long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away. But he is alive, his story lives among us.

His story lives in people like Martin Torres. Martin grew up on Chicago’s South Side. This guy was a rough character—the leader of a Latino gang. In high school they called him “Pacman”, because everyone knew he was always packing a gun. Martin was first shot when he was twelve by members of a rival gang. He was eventually shot five more times, including in the jaw and in his right shoulder. The scars and markings on his body serve as constant reminders of how deep a grip violence has had on his life. The .38 caliber bullet from the last time he was shot, nine years ago, still sits in his right thigh. On his chest, he has tattooed the name “Buff” as a tribute to a friend who was killed on his eighteenth birthday. And on his ears he still wears two silver studs—which were his sign of gang affiliation. Even though he’s now grown up, even though you’d have to look hard to find these scars, tattoos and earrings, Martin remains haunted by the daily grip of violence that he faced daily growing up. Years later, all it took was one incident, one event, to trigger “Pacman” to rear his ugly, violent head again.

It happened three summers ago, when Martin was working as a cook in Austin, Texas, and on one August morning he received a call. His nephew Emilio had been murdered on Chicago’s South Side. Martin got on the first bus he could to Chicago. “Pacman” was back. He was in town, asking around about what happened, and in a day, he figured out who he believed had killed his nephew. There was only one thought on his mind. Revenge. He later said, “That’s how I live. I was going hunting. This is my old blood, my nephew.” Martin bought guns. He began to drink. He thought he’d wait until after the funeral to track down his nephew’s murderer. He was back to his old self—back in chains.

Then he got a call from Zale Hoddenbach. Back in high school Zale belonged to a gang that was under the same umbrella as Martin, and they had become friends while doing time together in prison in Pontiac, Illinois. When Martin’s brother asked Zale to call him, Martin was thrilled. “Hey, my old prison buddy is going to join me to search for the killer!” Martin was still thinking and acting like “Pacman”. But Zale had changed. Zale said retribution wasn’t what Martin’s nephew’s dad wanted. An eye for an eye wasn’t the way out. Martin said, “What are you talking about?!” Zale knew it would be hard to stop Pacman. Martin was still a man possessed, without hope, and full of fear.

This is the same story we just heard. This story from a recent New York Times Magazine article of a man lost in the grip of demons—the demons of violence and fear. The man Jesus meets has been robbed of himself: demons have stripped him of his clothes, have made his home into caves and tombs, have isolated him from everyone else.

OK, now I’m not asking you to believe in demons. For some that may be a stretch. But for a moment, let us ask ourselves: are there forces, or spirits, or rebellious parts of ourselves that try to do to us what they did to Martin, and to this man? Forces that try to isolate us, that spark uncontrolled rage in us, and that put us to death? Is it something inside of us? An ongoing mental health challenge we face, sheer apathy, a lost belief in hope? Is it something outside of us? Systemic discrimination, racism, power taken away from us by someone else?

Well Jesus has news for those forces that rebel against God: they have no power over us! Because of Jesus they do not get to define us! Jesus’ power gives them no legitimacy whatsoever. Jesus comes to this man’s defense, and “commands the unclean spirit to come out of the man.” (8:29) The way Jesus does this is very important, and so profound. He does not try to convince these demons that they are not powerful. When Jesus is dealing with demons, with forces that make someone addicted to something destructive, he does not give that force any legitimacy. He won’t argue with them. He simply tells them to go: leave, get out, scram. Jesus is kind of like the ultimate, nonviolent super-homeboy! And Jesus doesn’t use fear or intimidation to tell them to leave. He uses anger, which as Augustine says has two beautiful daughters, hope and courage. His channels his anger at what has possessed this man into energy that builds a hopeful, courageous relationship with this man. He does this by affirming, and loving this human being, this child of God. Jesus does not scare this man straight. As one priest says, he cares him straight. He cares him straight.

And then Jesus continues to care this man straight by doing something so simple: he asks him his name. Now the multitude of demons and forces within him are still possessing him, and I bet he cannot even remember at that point what his name used to be. The man says his name is “Legion”. It’s a whole legion, an army, of spirits and people and opinions that had consumed and possessed him so much that he was no longer the name he once was; he is no longer himself.

But Jesus will have none of that. The demons see Jesus’ authority, his confidence, his giving no credence to them whatsoever, and they are gone from. Next thing you know they are in a herd of pigs, tumbling into the sea. And what’s left? This man. No longer labeled. No longer “that possessed man.” No longer “the Gerasene demoniac.” A man. A person. With a name, an identity, a character that is not a wimp, that is not a wuss. He’s healed. He’s whole. He’s free. Jesus gives this man his dignity back where it rightfully belongs—dignity in his grateful heart. This man sits at Jesus’ feet with a heart free of resentment and bitterness. He now has a heart of dignity—the same heart that God also sees in each and every one of us. Jesus defends us from all that takes our dignity away—at all costs, even with his life. It is our name he defines us with, and not whatever any person or force or demon may want to call us or do to us.

Martin and Zale met up at the nephew’s wake. Zale spent the day by his side, urging him to respect his brother’s wishes. Zale knew the longer he could keep Martin from leaving the service, the more chance there would be from keeping him from shooting someone. He listened. He let him vent for a few hours. Then Zane put it to him straight: don’t do it. Don’t give in. What is your real name? You don’t have to be Pacman. You can be Martin.


As a “violence interrupter” for the City of Chicago’s violence prevention program Cease Fire, Zale stood in the struggle of resisting the violence that tried to take away Martin’s dignity. He saw past the demons that had Martin in the chains of fear. Jesus sees us the same way: as dignified, beloved, beautiful children of God. No one bullies us. Jesus won’t let them! Each week when we say in the creed “Jesus is Lord”, we affirm the dignity our Lord gives us freely. And when we affirm our baptism we speak our renouncement of those forces that try to take away what our Lord gives us. These are forces we will never overcome on our own. But …in our struggling…there is Jesus, commanding the spirits of violence to leave us. There is Jesus filling us with hope and courage to face our future. There is Jesus drowning the ugliness of violence with the beauty of his grace.

In our fear of what tries to destroy us, United Lutheran serves as our own “violence interrupter” community, we who all gather together to sit at the Lord of life’s feet, humbled by the clarity with which he carries out his non-violent vision, a vision that builds the kingdom of his life-giving peace through us. With the healed Gerasene, with Martin, he sends us out today as bearers of his dignity, to give new life to all on the margins who have forgotten their true name, to call them the name that Jesus calls them: beloved brother and beloved sister. Amen.

What Pastor Jon Preached on Sunday, June 13th, 2010

Third Sunday after Pentecost
(Lectionary 11)
2 Samuel 11:26-12:10, 13-15 • Psalm 32 • Galatians 2:15-21 • Luke 7:36-8:3

³⁶One of the Pharisees asked Jesus to eat with him, and he went into the Pharisee’s house and took his place at the table. ³⁷And a woman in the city, who was a sinner, having learned that he was eating in the Pharisee’s house, brought an alabaster jar of ointment. ³⁸She stood behind him at his feet, weeping, and began to bathe his feet with her tears and to dry them with her hair. Then she continued kissing his feet and anointing them with the ointment. ³⁹Now when the Pharisee who had invited him saw it, he said to himself, “If this man were a prophet, he would have known who and what kind of woman this is who is touching him—that she is a sinner.” ⁴⁰Jesus spoke up and said to him, “Simon, I have something to say to you.” “Teacher,” he replied, “Speak.” ⁴¹“A certain creditor had two debtors; one owed five hundred denarii, and the other fifty. ⁴²When they could not pay, he canceled the debts for both of them. Now which of them will love him more?” ⁴³Simon answered, “I suppose the one for whom he canceled the greater debt.” And Jesus said to him, “You have judged rightly.” ⁴⁴Then turning toward the woman, he said to Simon, “Do you see this woman? I entered your house; you gave me no water for my feet, but she has bathed my feet with her tears and dried them with her hair. ⁴⁵You gave me no kiss, but from the time I came in she has not stopped kissing my feet. ⁴⁶You did not anoint my head with oil, but she has anointed my feet with ointment. ⁴⁷Therefore, I tell you, her sins, which were many, have been forgiven; hence she has shown great love. But the one to whom little is forgiven, loves little.” ⁴⁸Then he said to her, “Your sins are forgiven.” ⁴⁹But those who were at the table with him began to say among themselves, “Who is this who even forgives sins?” ⁵⁰And he said to the woman, “Your faith has saved you; go in peace.” Soon afterwards he went on through cities and villages, proclaiming and bringing the good news of the kingdom of God. The twelve were with him, ²as well as some women who had been cured of evil spirits and infirmities: Mary, called Magdalene, from whom seven demons had gone out, ³and Joanna, the wife of Herod’s steward Chuza, and Susanna, and many others, who provided for them out of their resources.

The Gospel of Luke has a special resonance for us. Luke wrote his account of the life, death and resurrection of Jesus knowing that his hearers would be, well, a lot like us. Luke targets his narrative to speak to socially elite folk who are on the verge of joining the Jesus movement. Over and over again, more than other Gospel writers, Luke brings up stories focusing on the socially marginalized, and emphasizes Jesus’ repeated disdain for wealth that is not used in service of advancing the building of the kingdom of God.

We are not all that unlike Luke’s intended audience. Even though we all may not live in the community immediately surrounding United Lutheran, we cannot deny that the place this church sits in lies in one of the most affluent suburbs of the Chicago area. In a broader sense, nationally, we live in a very priviledged country compared to many nations: eighty percent of the world lives on less than $10 a day. (http://www.globalissues.org/article/26/poverty-facts-and-stats)

Luke indeed has a special resonance for us. One of the other distinguishing characteristics of the Gospel of Luke is food: all of Luke’s twenty-four chapters use a story or image or teaching that involves food, table fellowship or hospitality—except one. In Luke, who we eat with and who we don’t speaks volumes about our discipleship to Jesus. It’s important we understand these aspects of Luke’s Gospel that make it speak directly to us, especially now as we enter into the time after Pentecost when we’ll be hearing the Word given to us from Luke for many months.

In today’s Gospel, Jesus has begun his public ministry, and he is at the early part of his ministry, beginning to build momentum for building his kingdom: by healing the sick, raising the dead, forgiving sinners, feeding the hungry, welcoming the poor. This kingdom is what Jesus ultimately dies for.

In today’s Gospel lesson, Jesus clearly wants to identify the elite hearers of this story—us—with a particular character—Simon the Pharisee. In this scene Jesus is invited to a situation with food involved (of course!) at a banquet with Simon. All of a sudden, a woman, likely a prostitute or adulteress, interrupts their fine dining experience and thrusts herself at Jesus’ feet. Simon’s response is the response we would probably give: “If Jesus knew what he was doing, he would not be touching this woman! She’s broken the law.” (Cf. 7:39)

We all have those people who make us uncomfortable like this woman—people who make our skin crawl when they walk in the room, whom we don’t like, who we don’t deem respectable people, who are our enemies. Who are those people for us, I wonder? They are family, neighbors, co-workers, classmates, and, maybe even someone here in the pews today…

Jesus appears not to offer a way out to Simon, or to us, for our rude welcome to uninvited sinners. As Jesus tries to teach Simon a lesson about his rudeness, he talks to him, but while he talks to him, he looks right at the forgiven woman as he speaks: “Do you see this woman?” he says, “I entered your house; you gave me no water for my feet, but she has bathed my feet with her tears and dried them with her hair…Therefore, I tell you her sins, which were many, have been forgiven; hence she has shown great love.” Jesus looks this woman directly in the eye—which in itself is Jesus’ affirmation of this woman who seeks his blessing. Simon looked away from her. We look away from her. But Jesus’ eyes remain fixed on the eyes of this confessing, contrite, poor woman, inviting her to relationship and new life.

Jesus’ promise and affirmation is not just for this woman, however. When the eyes of Jesus look into our eyes, we recognize we are sinners too. We are that woman. Jesus has not just come for her; he’s come to forgive us. Jesus contrasts his welcome from the welcome of Simon, and with his eyes, switches his role from guest of Simon to host of this outcast, and of all present, who as his guest receive the promise of his merciful gaze.

Jesus undoubtedly plants a seed in Simon, and in us, challenging us to forgive one another, saying “The one to whom little is forgiven, loves little.” (7:47) Our temptation is to want to forgive someone else all at once. Thankfully, though, Jesus’ forgiveness is not this one-time event. Jesus’ forgiveness doesn’t happen in an instant. For this woman, she has already been forgiven, before she even comes to Jesus. Bowing at his feet is her response to what she’s received. She will still be living with consequences. Tiger Woods will continue to wrestle with the consequences of his affairs, even after admitting them. The pitcher for the Detroit Tigers—who came so close to a perfect game recently—will have to continue living with the call of an umpire that cost him perfection.

Rowan Williams, the archbishop of Cantebury, writes about forgiveness: “So to live a ‘forgiven’ life is not simply to live in a happy consciousness of having been absolved. Forgiveness is precisely the deep and abiding sense of what relation—with God, [or Creation] or with other human beings—can and should be; and so [forgiveness] is itself a stimulus, an irritant, necessarily provoking protest at impoverished versions of social and personal relations.” Jesus forgiveness is indeed a continual process of reconciliation, healing, and mending us together.

It’s also important for us to understand that the forgiveness Jesus offers is not a psychological forgiveness of our conscience. Jesus’ forgiveness restores us to full communion…full relationship with God, with Creation and with all peoples. It’s about restoring us to right relationship and just relationship with one another. Jesus comes to reside in the midst of the tensions and uneasiness we find between ourselves and the unwelcome but fellow guests of Christ among us. He comes to enliven the imaginations of Simon, and of us, to look with his eyes; to see those whom we may not wish to be at his table.

Forgiveness indeed is not a one-time event; indeed for Christians it is a way of life that draws us into relational communion with God and each other. As forgiven people, in whom Christ is alive and in whom Christ has reconciled us to all things,

· we can we become willing to speak truthfully, appropriately and patiently when conflicts arise

· we can acknowledge both when we are angry and resentful and try to overcome them

· we can summon care for the stranger, the “other”, and see them as Jesus sees them: as a child of God

· we can make a commitment to struggle to change what causes and perpetuates our conflicts

· and we can continue to daily and weekly return to our baptism, to the source of our forgiving way of life, Christ, showered down upon us in the power of the Holy Spirit. In those waters we turn to confess our yearning for the possibility of reconciliation.

Why become a community at United Lutheran that practices the forgiving love of Jesus? Because Jesus’ eyes have first forgiven us!. And, as Martin Luther King, Jr. said, “Love is the only force capable of transforming an enemy into a friend. We never get rid of an enemy by meeting hate with hate; we get rid of an enemy by getting rid of enmity. By its very nature, hate destroys and tears down; by its very nature, love creates and builds up. Love transforms with redemptive power.” Love is the way we build community. We forgive because through love we build the kingdom of God; through love we share the love given to us by Christ and through love we are ourselves transformed in from strangers to friends; from enemies to brothers and sisters. This is the lifelong task for all of us.

At Jesus’ table, where his main course is always forgiveness, where bread is broken and wine is poured for us, Jesus takes his place as the host, and we are all his guests: crabby Pharisees, Simons, sinful women forgiven, the social elite, and all the rest. We are brought into communion with his eyes, not privately, but publicly, and collectively. Jesus’ table provides us with a feast of Jesus’ own love. Jesus’ communion table builds United Lutheran Church into a commune-ity of Christ’s living reconciliation. This is the setting where we are continually called as his disciples, to go out and be his eyes in the world, to invite all to his table, and to share his forgiveness and justice as our way of life. Amen.