What Pastor Jon Preached on Sunday, November 20, 2011

Christ the King
Ezekiel 34:11-16, 20-24 • Psalm 95:1-7a • Ephesians 1:15-23 • Matthew 25:31-46

[Jesus said to the disciples:] "When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, then he will sit on the throne of his glory. All the nations will be gathered before him, and he will separate people one from another as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats, and he will put the sheep at his right hand and the goats at the left. Then the king will say to those at his right hand, 'Come, you that are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world; for I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me.' Then the righteous will answer him, 'Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry and gave you food, or thirsty and gave you something to drink? And when was it that we saw you a stranger and welcomed you, or naked and gave you clothing? And when was it that we saw you sick or in prison and visited you?' And the king will answer them, 'Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me.' Then he will say to those at his left hand, 'You that are accursed, depart from me into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels; for I was hungry and you gave me no food, I was thirsty and you gave me nothing to drink, I was a stranger and you did not welcome me, naked and you did not give me clothing, sick and in prison and you did not visit me. Then they also will answer, 'Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or sick or in prison, and did not take care of you?' Then he will answer them, 'Truly I tell you, just as you did not do it to one of the least of these, you did not do it to me.' And these will go away into eternal punishment, but the righteous into eternal life."

Several years ago, I was at Holden Village, the Lutheran retreat center out in the Cascade Mountains of Washington state that Stacey and I love so much, and we were a part of a farewell party for the three Directors who oversee the day-to-day operations of the Village. They were completing several years of amazing ministry, and at one point in the evening, several people spoke up to talk glowing about their gifts, from cooking skills, to managing crises, to giving up their lodges for guests to use when the village was at overflowing capacity, to renewing the village’s mission to be centered in the gospel. After all these accolades were laid upon them, it was their turn to speak. The first thing that one of them, Paul, said, has always stuck with me. He said, “I’m not sure what I can say for all the kind things you’ve said about us...except...you have been Christ to us...and the people of this Village have been Christ to us.”

Here were people who had just been described as having themselves been Christ to this Village... How could the first thing Paul say about this experience be that we had been Christ to them? It has always struck me since as a great moment of reversal--a great example of how serving others does not always mean that it is up to us to bring Christ to others...but in relating to and serving others—we can discover the vastness of where Christ is already at work. For Paul, Christ had shown up in the guests who brought their longings for rest and renewal, in the staff who gave their all for little or no pay, and in the gorgeous mountain wilderness that sang out with the beauty of Creation. What Paul was saying was that despite all the transformation that had happened in the Village during their service, it ended up also being the directors themselves who had been transformed by their service too. Mutual transformation...all because of Christ.

As we are called by Christ to serve others, that call to serve can often seem like a heavy, heavy burden. When I heard from United member John Halvorson about his Bible study on this passage from Matthew 25 this past summer, he noted how heavily people in the discussion felt the weight of God’s law--law that both convicts us and also commands us to serve Christ in the “least of these.” But what often is overlooked in the call to Christian service is the promise that goes with it: that we will discover Christ already at work in the world, and that we ourselves will be transformed by the presence of Christ who is already present—already reigning, we confess on this Christ the King Sunday. Christ is already at work fashioning a home in the presence of the world he comes to dwell in—at work through us, and at work in others to reveal himself to us.

This reminds me of a very common experience I have when I talk about the ministry that my wife Stacey does in her work as a hospital chaplain with children. So often, I mention what she does, and people say, “Wow, that must be incredibly difficult.” What I most often observe her saying when she hears that is that it is difficult to be with children who are in the hospital for days on end, or who go through incredibly challenging treatments. But she also says that she discovers amazing faith, hope and love in these children and their families. It is a blessing, she says, to be in the presence of children who end up giving the staff and all who care for them the incredible gift of their stories, testimonies and blessing of those around them. It ends up that the children she serves become Christ to others. They become the ones blessing her rather than only being the recipients of others' blessings. So it doesn’t turn out to be as hard work, as it is paying attention for the surprising ways God is at work through such broken circumstances with incredible compassion that runs both ways.

I have heard one such story, of when a high school student was on hospice care. Before he died he wanted Holy Communion brought to him, and to celebrate it with all his closest family and friends around him. During that service, while there were many tears shed, unbeknownst previously to everyone else, this young man started going around the room and blessing each and every person there. Whether it was a few words of thanks, or a hope for their future, or simply laying a hand on their hand, this young man who everyone else had come to surround with Christ’s presence...became Christ in those moments to everyone in that room. In his need, he discovered compassion big enough to bless those who had come to bless him.

The thing that these stories of Paul and this young man and that Jesus’ words about finding him in the “least of these” have in common, is that Christ is found in our mutual need—the need we all share, regardless of whether we serve or are being served, whether we love or we are being loved. In Matthew 25, all the people Jesus where says he will appear lack something, whether it is food, water, a home, clothing, care, or community. Even if our lack of those things does not define us, we all stand in need of all those essential things in our lives, and it is in our lack—in that space inside all of us that longs for God to sustain us with those things—that Jesus comes and sets up his reign of compassion...a reign that was intended since the world began and is a reign that will not end until the end of time.

But there's still the question...how can Christ come alive? How is it that Jesus, this 2,000 year old, Son of God, who was born, lived, died, rose again, and reigns with God until his return--how can he show up, be present to us, extend God’s blessing us, and make God known to us...through another human being? It’s kind of crazy when you look at it from that perspective, isn’t it?!

It’s funny, though, this sounds like a similar questions to what was asked in our Adult Education session last Sunday about communion: “How can Christ be truly present in communion?” We as Lutherans believe that it is still bread and wine, but that Christ’s presence is there “in, with and under”, as Luther says. His presence is there, just as his presence is there in our compassion for the least of these—and any who are lacking, because of his promise to be present...to reveal some piece of himself...to give us a glimpse that is visible through the eyes of faith. Christ’s promises that we will see his presence in our lack because his compassion goes all the way to the cross...his compassion affirms that in the heartbeat of reality, the world is not hostile, threatening or indifferent. Christ's presence is possible because he fills the world with grace--grace that has already been won for us, and that we can trust lies at the core of God's heart.

Thank the Lord that we do not have to be Christ. There has been and there will only be one Jesus. The way we get to see him is by receiving him...who fills in all the ways we lack in our lives...and in the lack that we find in those we serve. In that lacking we all become channels of his blessing, means of his grace, full of his promised compassion. While we are still human, still children of God--his compassion flows in, with and under us, in ways we cannot even imagine...turning we ourselves into servants who will be transformed again and again by this unending reign of love.

So we can today take these ordinary things we find in our midst—in bread, wine, and one another—and see them with the eyes of faith...see them as gifts that are themselves Christ resurrected, alive, here, now, today, present...all being Christ for us....being the same gift we already are and will be to all who lack, to all who hunger to live under Christ’s reign. We can look around at the ordinary people we find through our daily life--in our neighbors, community, strangers, and friends alike--to see the extroardinary love of Christ at work in them...and in one of the most incredible twists of the life of a Christian: seeing Christ in their love filling our lack, and them seeing Christ in our love filling theirs. It is for that power revealed in love that reigns forever that we give thanks on this Christ the King Sunday.

Amen.

What Pastor Jon Preached on Sunday, November 13, 2011

Twenty-Second Sunday After Pentecost
(Lectionary 33A)
Zephaniah 1:7, 12-18 • Psalm 90:1-8, (9-11), 12 • 1 Thessalonians 5:1-11 • Matthew 25:14-30

"[Jesus said to the disciples:] For it is as if a man, going on a journey, summoned his slaves and entrusted his property to them; to one he gave five talents, to another two, to another one, to each according to his ability. Then he went away. The one who had received the five talents went off at once and traded with them, and made five more talents. In the same way, the one who had the two talents made two more talents. But the one who had received the one talent went off and dug a hole in the ground and hid his master's money. After a long time the master of those slaves came and settled accounts with them. Then the one who had received the five talents came forward, bringing five more talents, saying, 'Master, you handed over to me five talents; see, I have made five more talents.' His master said to him, 'Well done, good and trustworthy slave; you have been trustworthy in a few things, I will put you in charge of many things; enter into the joy of your master.' And the one with the two talents also came forward, saying, 'Master, you handed over to me two talents; see, I have made two more talents.' His master said to him, 'Well done, good and trustworthy slave; you have been trustworthy in a few things, I will put you in charge of many things; enter into the joy of your master.' Then the one who had received the one talent also came forward, saying, 'Master, I knew that you were a harsh man, reaping where you did not sow, and gathering where you did not scatter seed; so I was afraid, and I went and hid your talent in the ground. Here you have what is yours.' But his master replied, 'You wicked and lazy slave! You knew, did you, that I reap where I did not sow, and gather where I did not scatter? Then you ought to have invested my money with the bankers, and on my return I would have received what was my own with interest. So take the talent from him, and give it to the one with the ten talents. For to all those who have, more will be given, and they will have an abundance; but from those who have nothing, even what they have will be taken away. As for this worthless slave, throw him into the outer darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.'"

A few weeks ago I saw in the news that a site where several of us went after the Cedar Rapids, IA service trip last year, the iconic Field of Dreams movie baseball field in Iowa, was recently purchased by a couple from Chicago. It made me think about one of the things that happens throughout this film is that the main character hears voices telling him things. Ray Kinsella walks along his Iowa corn fields and hears a voice saying, “If you build it, he will come.” He talks to other farmers, wondering if this is commonplace for people who spend lots of time out caring for their fields--to hear other people speaking to you when no one else is around.

With the birth of Liv two and a half weeks ago, these past several weeks I’ve been hearing a new voice in my head, often in the middle of the night, saying things like, “Is that a cry for a changed diaper I hear, or just a moaning yawn?”, and “Wow, she’s amazing...but what have I gotten myself into?!”, and “Treasure these precious moments now. She’s going to change so fast.”

Part of us says that these voices aren’t something to listen to. But even those of us with good mental health are going to hear a voice in our head of someone who isn’t there speaking to us. That voice can even sometimes be God’s way of speaking to us.

Once a woman who came back to the church after many years astray told me that she had started hearing voices. “Is that normal?” she asked me, as if she were unsure if this was something that was “supposed” to be happening to people of faith or not. She said, “God is saying things to me, trying to affirm me, or lead me to talk to or help other people. I’m hearing my dead grandparents saying wise things to me too, and this is all since I recently started to pay attention to God’s presence.” I reassured her she is not alone, but also shared that the challenge for us is to discern between what voices bring us closer to God’s fullness and consolation, and what leads us to places of desolation and God’s absence.

With today’s Gospel text, a voice may try and tell us that Jesus’ story about the master giving funds to slaves to invest can only be heard and interpreted in one particular way. But there are at least two very compelling and yet very different interpretations--both of which are valid, but both of which lead us to wonder how it is we reconcile God’s voice when we hear two different voices speaking to us.

One interpretation prompts the following voice to speak to us: “Work hard, invest your resources, don’t bury your treasure like the slave who did nothing with his master’s money.” This is the voice that the third slave did not hear. He chose instead to live in fear, to seek the safety of security, to never take risks and to care for his own self-protection. The other two slaves did follow that voice, of taking the risk, and they returned double to their master what they had received by buying and selling it, by investing it, and by allowing it to grow in the marketplace. The voice that God wants us to hear from this story would seem simple if this were all.

But another voice speaks loud and clear, one that needs a little help from the cultural context of that day. In the ancient near east, it turns out that they had a very different view of the rich and poor than we have today. The rich, it was always assumed, had come to their wealth unjustly or were heirs of unjust persons. This was because they did not believe such thing as an “honest” rich person was possible--it was widely held that being rich meant that somehow their wealth had been been taken away and come at the expense from the socially vulnerable. Also, in that day, burying one’s treasure in the ground was actually seen as a sound financial strategy in those days because it guaranteed a return. This has profound implications then for the other interpretation of this parable of the talents.

With this perspective, the master and the two slaves who accumulate the wealth now become the extortioners who illegally come into wealth by means of greed that takes away from others. The voice that then comes out of this story comes from the third slave, whose voice says, “I refuse to invest this master’s attempts to make wealth at my expense. I will name the abusive of power for what it is, regardless of the price I will have to pay when the master returns.” This interpretation completely turns the voice of the other two slaves on its head, as they become part of a practice of bowing to harsh demands for economic growth at any cost, even to the lowliest. Both interpretations can be valid, and both can be true, even when the voices emanating from them are different.

They can be true together because they both speak with the unified voice of Jesus. His voice is always one that speaks in the midst of brokenness, and it speaks in unison here--because both interpretations –both voices--show our profound estrangement from God and each other that’s at the core of us all. But Jesus has a voice that despite all the other voices that try and separate us from him, it cannot be declared dead or irrelevant. His voice still does matter, and it still does speak to us. His voice matters because his voice silences the powers that keep an abundant life from us. We, whether we are like the servant who is scared to risk, or like the one who is threatened by greed, are in need of a voice that will both heal what is broken at our core and stand up for those at the margins. Jesus’ voice is the one that connects us back to God and each other.

Jesus’ voice is one that will come into our heads...will hear his voice speaking...in the need to risk using what we've been given, and in our need to challenge greed. His voice will come to us, and invite us as a community into the promise of a fruit-bearing life, because while his voice invites us to risk loss, is a voice that leads us to a shared life. His voice will say to us that he loves us so much that he wants to share our hopes and dreams, our fears and our failures...his voice wants us to know of God’s love enough that he dies on the cross so that we might be joined across differences to have life and have it abundantly. Jesus‘ voice invites us to the abundant life of the two slaves who enter into the joy of their master because they didn’t sit on their hands--they get in the game. And Jesus’ voice is also that same voice that stands up for us in the way the third slave stands up to the master’s tyranny by not cowering but by boldly naming unjust greed, in order to take its power away.

In what ways is Jesus’ voice speaking through his story to your life, and to us as a community? To what greater abundance is Jesus inviting us? It’s waiting there for us to receive, but we have to get up and use our voices to sieze it.

As we stand in the midst of times when the gap between the rich and poor in our country now stands at an all time high...as protests continue to rage on Wall Street and around the world decrying the injustice of economic inequality...and millions of unemployed continue to bear the brunt of a recession that will not seem to quit lingering...what do we hear the voice of Jesus saying? Where are the places of deepest economic brokenness where we are no longer listening for him? Where have we tuned out and stopped demanding that the biblical value of care for the poor be of major concern to our congregation and to our elected officials?

We all will hear voices, but Jesus’ voice is the one that speaks clearly to us in our brokenness and in the world’s injustice. The question is what our response will be. Can we hear the vocie of Jesus speaking through these servants? As hockey Hall of Famer Wayne Gretzsky once said, “We miss 100 percent of the shots we never take.” And as many celebrities are saying about the continuing famine in the horn of eastern Africa are saying, man-made “famine” is the real “f-word” obscenity we’re not willing to hear being spoken, because it calls us to accountability for the 30,000 children who have died there in the last three months.

We can trust that like Ray who heeded the voice in his head in Field of Dreams, that following Jesus’ voice of compassion and justice will lead not to desolation or to God’s absence--it will lead us to a communal life of abundance.

Amen.