Monday, August 26, 2019

The Power of a Voice--Pentecost + 4, July 7, 2019


Sermon for SMHP, Year C, Pentecost + 4, July 7, 2019
2 Kings 5:1-14 [15-17]
          Naaman, commander of the army of the king of Aram, was a great man and in high favor with his master, because by him the Lord had given victory to Aram. The man, though a mighty warrior, suffered from leprosy. 2Now the Arameans on one of their raids had taken a young girl captive from the land of Israel, and she served Naaman’s wife. 3She said to her mistress, “If only my lord were with the prophet who is in Samaria! He would cure him of his leprosy.” 4So Naaman went in and told his lord just what the girl from the land of Israel had said. 5And the king of Aram said, “Go then, and I will send along a letter to the king of Israel.” He went, taking with him ten talents of silver, six thousand shekels of gold, and ten sets of garments. 6He brought the letter to the king of Israel, which read, “When this letter reaches you, know that I have sent to you my servant Naaman, that you may cure him of his leprosy.” 7When the king of Israel read the letter, he tore his clothes and said, “Am I God, to give death or life, that this man sends word to me to cure a man of his leprosy? Just look and see how he is trying to pick a quarrel with me.” 8But when Elisha the man of God heard that the king of Israel had torn his clothes, he sent a message to the king, “Why have you torn your clothes? Let him come to me, that he may learn that there is a prophet in Israel.”
               9So Naaman came with his horses and chariots, and halted at the entrance of Elisha’s house. 10Elisha sent a messenger to him, saying, “Go, wash in the Jordan seven times, and your flesh shall be restored and you shall be clean.” 11But Naaman became angry and went away, saying, “I thought that for me he would surely come out, and stand and call on the name of the Lord his God, and would wave his hand over the spot, and cure the leprosy! 12Are not Abana and Pharpar, the rivers of Damascus, better than all the waters of Israel? Could I not wash in them, and be clean?” He turned and went away in a rage. 13But his servants approached and said to him, “Father, if the prophet had commanded you to do something difficult, would you not have done it? How much more, when all he said to you was, ‘Wash, and be clean’?” 14So he went down and immersed himself seven times in the Jordan, according to the word of the man of God; his flesh was restored like the flesh of a young boy, and he was clean.
               15Then he returned to the man of God, he and all his company; he came and stood before him and said, “Now I know that there is no God in all the earth except in Israel.”

          So many powerful people in this story.  Did you count them as they went by?  Four of them.  All identified with their titles, so that we know how powerful they are.
          Let’s go through it and find them.
          Verse One (that didn’t take long):  “Naaman, commander of the army of the king of Aram.”  I suppose that’s two, technically.  And we’ll count the King of Aram, because he appears in verses four and five.  Naaman needs his letter of introduction to get the attention of the King of Israel, in verse 6.  So that’s three.
          And who is the last powerful person?  [Elisha, the man of God]
          Four powerful men.  It can be said that they all have a role in this healing story.  Naaman is the object of the healing.  The king of Aram wrote a letter.  The King of Israel read the letter…and then complained loudly enough for Elisha the prophet to hear.  And Elisha sent out instructions for the healing.
          Four powerful men, all concerned in some way, but none of them really going out of their way for this healing.  Even Naaman, who is suffering from what the text calls “leprosy,” which could be one of a number of skin diseases, none of which are pleasant—even Naaman doesn’t want to work too hard for this healing.
          Who does the heavy lifting in this story?  Who puts themselves out there? 
          The servants.  First the servant girl from Israel, who knows of the prophet Elisha and tells her mistress, Naaman’s wife.  (And props to Naaman’s wife for then taking that message to her stubborn husband.)
          How much power does that servant girl have?  Let’s count what’s working against her.
#1:  “Servant”
#2:  “Girl”
#3:  “Taken captive from Israel” which meant that she was subject to the Aramean laws of slavery, not the Mosaic code, which was generally more lenient.

          She didn’t have much power in the society in which she lived, though most sources agree that it was much better to be a slave in the ancient world than it was in America. 
          She had one thing, which she uses well in this lesson.  What’s that?
          Her voice.
          She speaks to her mistress, telling her of the prophet in Israel who could cure Naaman.
          So a few things happen, and finally Naaman finds himself at Elisha’s front door, where he receives this message: “Go, wash in the Jordan seven times, and your flesh shall be restored and you shall be clean.”
          And Naaman, being a reasonable man, did as he was…yeah, just kidding.
          Naaman, being a powerful man, pitches a fit worthy of one of our children, and leaves “in a rage.”  He is willing to trade his pride for his body.
          And that would be the end of the story, were it not for…
          His servants.  Whose relationship with their master is revealed in their address:  “Father, if the prophet had commanded you to do something difficult, would you not have done it? How much more, when all he said to you was, ‘Wash, and be clean’?”
          They obviously have a relationship with Naaman which allows them voice, a relationship that is even familial.  But even in families, the distribution of power is usually clear.  And it’s not always easy to speak up, is it?
          How many of us have hesitated to speak up in a situation like this, in which we are in the position of lesser power?
          How many of us are holding on to things we want to say to family members, but never have?
          This story could have ended at verse one.  It could have ended at verse twelve, when Naaman threw a fit about being asked to wash himself clean in the waters of the not-so-clean Jordan. 
          But the servants used the power they had—the power of their voices—to change the story.

          Many of us have felt powerless in the face of the atrocities being committed at our southern border.  We have wondered what we can do, when we lack the ability to change executive orders or to influence the powerful agencies in charge of the detention camps.  A cursory look at the whole system reveals that powerful monied interests are shaping the border crisis for their own monetary gain.  We lack the political and financial power to compete with them.
          It is easy to feel that there is nothing we can do.  To look at images like these drawings from little children in a respite center in Macallen, Texas, know something is horribly wrong, but to think to yourself, “What can I do?  I’m just one person.”
          Tell that to him. [Slide 5]
          And them.  [Slide 6]
          And him.  [Slide 7]
          And her.  [Slide 8]
          Oh, and him.  [Slide 9—Jesus]

          When Jesus sent seventy disciples out to prepare the way, he instructed them to take very little with them.  “No purse, no bag, no sandals.” No protection.  “I am sending you out,” he told them “like lambs into the midst of wolves.”
          When you enter, say “Peace be with you.”
          Preach the word of God.  Bring forth the kingdom of God by your very presence, with nothing but your voice.  Be servants to the gospel!
         
          That’s what we have, people of God.  We have our voices.  We have our bodies, strategically placed to magnify our voices.  We can choose to step into the fragile places, to risk our comfort and perhaps our persons, in order to stand up for the values we hold.  We can choose to go out, like lambs into the midst of wolves, to follow countless people before us who have changed the world with nothing but their present and the power of their voices.
          We can testify, as Naaman did, that there is no god but the God of Israel.  The gods of money and might may look powerful, but history shows that God’s justice will be done.  In this country, justice will prevail.  As soon as enough people demand it. 
          [Slide 10]  So come out on Friday evening and preach the word of God with your body and your voice.  It is time. 
          It is time.
          A closing image.  The manager of an art gallery in El Paso worked with women in detention at the Otero County Prison in New Mexico.  She helped them share their stories through art.
          Here is one story.  [Slide 11]
          “El dolor es real, pero así es la esperanza”
          The pain is real, but so is the hope.
          I still have hope.  Do you have hope? 
          Let us stand up for hope.  Let us stand up for her. 

[Slide 12 after closing]

"Ordinary" Time--Pentecost + 2, June 23, 2019


Year C, Pentecost + 2, Proper 7, OT 12, Sermon for St. Mark, Clayton, June 23, 2019
Luke 8:26-39
               26Then they arrived at the country of the Gerasenes, which is opposite Galilee. 27 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.
           28When 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"— 29 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.) 30 Jesus then asked him, "What is your name?" He said, "Legion"; for many demons had entered him. 31 They begged him not to order them to go back into the abyss. 32 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. 33 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. 
               34 When the swineherds saw what had happened, they ran off and told it in the city and in the country. 35 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. 36 Those who had seen it told them how the one who had been possessed by demons had been healed. 37 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. 38 The man from whom the demons had gone begged that he might be with him; but Jesus sent him away, saying, 39 "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.

          Get comfortable, everybody.  We have entered into that wonderful, holy time we call “ordinary.”  Note the green paraments.  Haven’t seen them for a while, right?  Not since the season following Epiphany.  Since then we’ve had purple for Lent, white for Easter, red for Pentecost, and white again last week for Holy Trinity Sunday.
          But today we are green, for “Ordinary Time.”  For the next twenty-three Sundays we are green for Ordinary Time.  Twenty-three nice, ordinary Sundays, with nice ordinary gospel texts from Luke.  Starting with this nice ordinary story.
          26Then Jesus and the disciples arrived at the country of the Gerasenes, which is opposite Galilee. 27 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.”
           28When he saw Jesus, he fell down before him and shouted at the top of his voice…”
          That happens to you every day, doesn’t it?
          Raise your hand if you haven’t had a naked guy yell at you today.  He doesn’t have to be from Gerasa, but extra points if he was.
          Okay, so maybe this isn’t the most ordinary story in Ordinary Time.  Parts of it are quite extraordinary, as are so many of the stories of the journeys of Jesus.  Especially when he gets out into Gentile territory.
          Parts of this story are strange and odd.  And parts of it, I would still submit to you, are rather mundane.
          Setting aside, for a moment, the conditions of this poor tormented Gerasene man, what is it that he yells at Jesus?
          “What have you to do with me, Jesus, Son of the Most High God?!”
          Now that’s a question! 
          Raise your hand if you’ve heard a question like that before.  If you’ve had your coworker, your friend, your child, your parent, your neighbor say something like, “What does all this Jesus stuff have to do with me?  My life is fine without RELIGION.”
          What have you to do with us, Jesus?
          It’s a question I hear a lot these days.
          A lot of people want to know, What does Jesus have to do with us?  What do we need with Jesus?  We have the internet.  5G!  That’s two more than 3G!  We’ve got a thousand channels and a million websites and SO MUCH TO DO, we don’t need someplace to go on Sunday morning.  We’ve got brunch!
          What do you have to do with us, Jesus?
          It’s not a bad question, actually.  I’m casting some aspersions on the people who ask it, but it’s not a bad question.
          Maybe we should all get up every morning and ask ourselves that question:  “Hey Jesus, what will you have to do with me today?  Hey Jesus, what shall we do together today?”
          Every morning.  Just ask it ourselves…rather than letting the demons ask it for us.
          Because demons will speak for us if we let them.  They’ll ask the question to try to push Jesus away.
          You know the demons, right?  We got demons.  Maybe not the tear-off-your-clothes-throw-you-in-the-tombs demons.  Not the super scary and sometimes slightly silly demons that Jesus encounters in the gospels.
          But we got demons.
          We have forces in our lives that act just like the demons that call themselves “Legion” in this gospel text.  Forces that pull us away from Jesus and his Way.  Forces that work to separate us from our families and our communities.  Forces that keep us from living the life we want…and God wants for us.
          Think about what those demons are in your life.  What forces are trying to send you to tombs of despair, isolation, anger, hatred?
          I can think of a few that have affected people I love.
·       Alcohol
·       And drugs
·       This little device (show cell phone).  Good tool for communication…and isolation.  Still 4G, but that will do…for now.
·       Busy-ness.  That busy-ness will get you.  We can get ourselves so busy we don’t have time for any of the important things.  Or the important people.  Believe me, I know.

          What does Jesus have to do with us?  Jesus calls us away from those isolating behaviors.  From captivity to vices and devices.  Jesus can stand up to demons.  He’s really good at it.  This story is the second time in Luke that Jesus casts out a demon—or a bunch—who have destroyed a man’s life.  He just looks at them and says “Get out already.” 
          Jesus heals.  Watch for it in these Sundays of Ordinary Time, as we meander through Luke’s gospel.  Watch for the stories of healing, because they are stories of restoration, of people being returned to life, to their families and their communities.  That’s the true miracle in those healing stories.
          Jesus heals.  With his body.  We can still call upon him for defense against the demons that plague us today, the conditions that keep us separated, despairing, hurting.
          The body of Christ grants healing, and we have access to that body in multiple ways—through prayer, through the sacrament of his body and blood, and here (indicate church).  This is Christ’s body, right?  Did you know you have healing properties?  We find healing in the body of Christ which is the church, the church at worship, the church at fellowship, the church in prayer for one another.  I know that you have been on a journey as a church, and that one part of that journey is ending as another is set to begin.  I know that God has worked through these two faithful pastors to heal and to build and to grant you the grace to be a healing body.
          I know this for certain, because I have been there.  Quick story and then I promise I am wrapping up.  In 2000, I arrived in Kansas City from Rhode Island, where I had been living, having moved there from California.
          My arrival in Kansas City was not an ordinary event.  I was about to be ordained “extra-ordinarily,” meaning that I wasn’t on the roster of the ELCA, on account of being a lesbian.  So the bishop wasn’t too happy, and the ELCA wasn’t too happy, and I had no idea how my new colleagues would feel.
          All of this uncertainty in the midst of being a first call pastor in a place I had never been before. 
          Side note:  First call pastors need care and nurture.  Just something to know.
          My first week in the office, I get a phone call.  I can’t remember which one of you called me, but it was probably Liz. 
          “Come to our house for a party.  We’ll have a few colleagues there and we want to welcome you.”
          So I went, to their wonderful house on Bell St., and there was a lovely party, and I was presented with a beautiful red stole for my ordination…and there were lots of colleagues—including one Keith Hohly, and that night I was healed of the demon of isolation and loneliness which I thought might plague my time in Kansas City as an apostate pastor.  And these three colleagues in particular walked with me and supported me and I have never been able to thank them enough, but I want to tell you this morning that through them I learned about the power and healing that resides in the Body of Christ.
          Resides right here at St. Mark Lutheran Church.  It may feel rather ordinary to get up on a Sunday morning and go to church, but I want to tell you this morning that it is most certainly not.  Because here in this place, this place experiencing change and transition and hope and eagerness and gratitude for the time my extraordinary colleagues have spent with you…here in this place you hold the power of the Body of Christ.
          It is an extra-ordinary power, even in Ordinary Times.  Use it well.  Use it for healing.  Use it for hope. 

Amen


Friday, August 23, 2019

God Wants Us To Be Free--Easter 7


Sermon for SMHP, Year C, Easter 7, June 2, 2019
Acts 16:16-34
               16One day, as we were going to the place of prayer, we met a slave girl who had a spirit of divination and brought her owners a great deal of money by fortune-telling. 17While she followed Paul and us, she would cry out, “These men are slaves of the Most High God, who proclaim to you a way of salvation.” 18She kept doing this for many days. But Paul, very much annoyed, turned and said to the spirit, “I order you in the name of Jesus Christ to come out of her.” And it came out that very hour. 19But when her owners saw that their hope of making money was gone, they seized Paul and Silas and dragged them into the marketplace before the authorities. 20When they had brought them before the magistrates, they said, “These men are disturbing our city; they are Jews 21and are advocating customs that are not lawful for us as Romans to adopt or observe.” 22The crowd joined in attacking them, and the magistrates had them stripped of their clothing and ordered them to be beaten with rods. 23After they had given them a severe flogging, they threw them into prison and ordered the jailer to keep them securely. 24Following these instructions, he put them in the innermost cell and fastened their feet in the stocks.
               25About midnight Paul and Silas were praying and singing hymns to God, and the prisoners were listening to them. 26Suddenly there was an earthquake, so violent that the foundations of the prison were shaken; and immediately all the doors were opened and everyone’s chains were unfastened. 27When the jailer woke up and saw the prison doors wide open, he drew his sword and was about to kill himself, since he supposed that the prisoners had escaped. 28But Paul shouted in a loud voice, “Do not harm yourself, for we are all here.” 29The jailer called for lights, and rushing in, he fell down trembling before Paul and Silas. 30Then he brought them outside and said, “Sirs, what must I do to be saved?” 31They answered, “Believe on the Lord Jesus, and you will be saved, you and your household.” 32They spoke the word of the Lord to him and to all who were in his house. 33At the same hour of the night he took them and washed their wounds; then he and his entire family were baptized without delay. 34He brought them up into the house and set food before them; and he and his entire household rejoiced that he had become a believer in God.

          “That peculiar institution.”  That’s what we used to call slavery in this country.  A “peculiar institution.”  Capturing other human beings and making them work for you for free, under duress.  Yeah, I’d say that was peculiar.  And a whole lot of other things.
          Slavery was wrong, right?
          Of course.  And if you travel around to just about any Christian church in this town, you will hear agreement that slavery was totally, completely wrong.
          Now.
          A hundred and fifty years ago—just a few generations back—you would hear a different story.  In a pretty large swath of this country, including right here in Kansas City, Missouri, you would find near-universal acceptance of the idea that slavery is just a peculiar institution, and that God had given white people the right to own their African neighbors.
          They called it “the curse of Ham”—the misbegotten idea that condemned all of the people of the continent of Africa because one of Noah’s sons, Ham, saw his father drunk and naked.  Noah then cursed Ham’s son Canaan, and voila:  slavery!
          Makes sense, right?
          It didn’t make sense ever, but the curse of Ham, which was really a curse of Canaan, was used first to justify the subjugation of the Canaanite people—the descendants of Canaan—to the Israelites, which at least makes sense a little.  Later, someone decided that Ham’s descendants were Africans, so the entire continent of Africa was under the “curse of Ham.”   
          Between that and the fact that Paul implores servants to obey their masters, many generations of Americans and others managed to talk themselves into believing—or pretending to believe—that slavery was a neutral, if peculiar, institution that may not have been blessed by God, but certainly wasn’t cursed.  Not like poor old Ham.
          People manage to convince themselves of all kinds of things, don’t they?  I’m sure the Philippians who owned the slave girl in our lesson for this morning felt completely justified in exploiting her to make money.  I mean, it sounds bad when you say it like that…but after all, the culture of the Roman Empire had no problem with citizens of means keeping slaves to do their bidding. 
          And lots of those other slaves had to do worse stuff than a little divination-by-virtue-of-an-evil-spirit.
          Notice, in fact, that when the authorities enter into this story, it isn’t the people who own and exploit another human being who are called to make an accounting for themselves.  Nope, it’s Paul and Silas who are accused of “advocating customs that are not lawful for us as Romans to adopt or observe.”
          Imagine what it would be like to travel somewhere and be thrown in jail just because you are an immigrant whose customs don’t fit the Way of the dominant culture.
          Wouldn’t that be awful?
          At least Paul and Silas didn’t have any kids who were thrown in a different jail.
         
          The charge against Paul and Silas is completely true.  It is the same charge leveled against abolitionists and members of the Resistance movement in Nazi Germany and the folks who are providing water and shelter to immigrants along our southern border, trying to salvage a few shreds of American decency.
          I hope it is a charge which could be leveled against every one of us. 
          What’s that charge?  Not “going with the program.”  Anti-empirical thinking.  Advocating for freedom in a culture that feels some folks should just be enslaved, imprisoned, and even killed.
          Empires use all of those means to keep people in line, especially those who fall outside of their dominant culture.
          That is why the values of the kingdom of God so often find themselves in conflict with the values of the kingdoms of earth.
          God desires for us to be free.  In creation, God gave human beings the whole world to enjoy.  And while that turned out to be too much for us to handle, the story of our relationship with God is one in which God is always leading us toward freedom.  When God’s people were enslaved in Egypt, God lifted up Moses and did some heavy persuading with pharaoh.  And the people were set free.
          When the people of Judah were taken away to Babylon, God sent prophets to remind them of who they were and whose they were.  God reminded them that even though they would be in exile for a long while, God had a plan.  The prophet Jeremiah read them a letter from their God:
11For surely I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord, plans for your welfare and not for harm, to give you a future with hope. When you search for me, you will find me; if you seek me with all your heart…and I will restore your fortunes and gather you from all the nations and all the places where I have driven you.  (Jer. 29:11, 13-14)
          And when we were in bondage to sin, and unable to free ourselves, God sent for us a savior, Jesus Christ, who took on our lot and our sin and forged a new freedom for us.
          God wants us to be free.  Couldn’t you tell that from the story?  This is a story about freedom!  And in it, everyone is freed.
          The slave girl is freed from her demon.
          Paul and Silas are sent to jail, but then in a miraculous earthquake, they and everyone in the jail are freed from their chains.
          The jailer is freed, along with his whole household, in the waters of baptism.
          God wants us to be free.  And God wants us to work for freedom on behalf of the whole world.  We are liberated in order to become liberators.
          As satisfying as this story is, it’s not wrapped up neatly with a bow.  The slave girl doesn’t have a demon, but she is still a slave.  The jailer will have some hard decisions to make, now that he is a Christian.  Will he continue to participate in a system which locks people up for opposing the exploitation of the Empire?
          The work of liberation is ongoing.  Just look around us. 
          How many people are being exploited by the dominant culture of our time?
          How many are literally in jail in this country just because of who they are?  Or because they are powerless over addiction?  Jailing people for addiction, rather than treating them for addiction, is an endless cycle of exploitation.  And just like the culture which allowed a slave girl to be exploited for her demon, the dominant culture of our time has created wealth for a few out of the demons of the many.
          But God. Wants. Us. To. Be. Free.  Free from our demons and free from being exploited as we battle our demons.
          The work of liberation is ongoing, and there is plenty of it to do at this time in our lives together.
          There is also, I am willing to bet, plenty of it to do in each of our lives.
          Is there something keeping you from being free?  An addiction you’re battling?  A wrong that lies unforgiven?  An amends you need to make?  Or ask for?
          Is there a relationship in your life that needs healing?
          Where do you need liberation in your own life?  God wants you to be free.  God desires liberation for you, and is willing to walk with you on every step of the path toward that liberation.
          People of God, hear again the words of the prophet Jeremiah, and know that they are as true for you as they were for the exiles in Babylon:  11For surely I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord, plans for your welfare and not for harm, to give you a future with hope.

Give and take and give--Easter 6


Sermon for SMHP, Year C, Easter 6, May 26, 2019
Acts 16:9-15
               9During the night Paul had a vision: there stood a man of Macedonia pleading with him and saying, “Come over to Macedonia and help us.” 10When he had seen the vision, we immediately tried to cross over to Macedonia, being convinced that God had called us to proclaim the good news to them. 11We set sail from Troas and took a straight course to Samothrace, the following day to Neapolis, 12and from there to Philippi, which is a leading city of the district of Macedonia and a Roman colony. We remained in this city for some days.
          13On the sabbath day we went outside the gate by the river, where we supposed there was a place of prayer; and we sat down and spoke to the women who had gathered there. 14A certain woman named Lydia, a worshiper of God, was listening to us; she was from the city of Thyatira and a dealer in purple cloth. The Lord opened her heart to listen eagerly to what was said by Paul. 15When she and her household were baptized, she urged us, saying, “If you have judged me to be faithful to the Lord, come and stay at my home.” And she prevailed upon us.

          In 1938, Harvard College (it was a “college” back then) gathered two cohorts of men for a study.  About a third were sophomores at Harvard.  About two third were teenagers from some of the poorest neighborhoods in Boston.  In all, there were 724 of them.  And they followed them from 1938 to the present, though most are gone now.
          It was a comprehensive study, not just a mailed questionnaire each year.  They did blood tests, interviewed the men and their families, observed and recorded their interactions.  And when they had a cohort who had reached their eighties, they looked back at them in midlife, to see whether there were predictors of future health and happiness.
          As you might have guessed, there were.  And they weren’t particularly physical.  The best predictor of long-term well-being—physical, emotional and psychological—is the formation of strong attachments and relationships.  People with strong relationships are happier, and they feel better.  It turns out, this study and others have concluded, that loneliness and isolation hurt.  They trigger a response in the same part of the brain that registers physical pain.
          And the best measure is quality, not quantity, of relationships.  Having strong partners in life—friends and/or romantic partners—leads to improved health outcomes of all sorts.  According to Robert Waldinger, the Harvard Study’s current (and fourth) director, “The people who were the most satisfied in their relationships at age 50 were the healthiest at age 80.”[1]
          I think some of us would have guessed that this was the case.  What the Study did was to offer empirical data to back up the notion that we humans are built for relationship.  Being connected to others is good for us, physically, emotionally, psychologically…
          …and spiritually.  The story of our faith—both globally and individually—is a story of relationship.  Faith is generally born of relationship.  We’re taken to church and baptized by our parents.  Or we meet a friend who invites us to their church, their synagogue, their mosque.  And we go.
          According to Nancy Ammerman, my favorite sociologist of religion, we become regular at a house of faith because we have made relationships there.  Ammerman says three is the golden number for the thousands of people she has studied.  As we think about growing our church, that is a number to keep in mind, if a bit loosely, because honestly—there are no formulas for this.
          We just know that relationship is key. 
          And, of course, as Christians—students of the gospels and Paul’s writings, we already knew this, right?
          Jesus begins his public ministry and what does he do?  He calls a community of twelve and then even more to work with him.  And they go out into the world and meet people.  Jesus teaches, but he also lays hands on those who are sick, and draws in those who are out on the margins—the sinners, the tax collectors, the sex workers.
          Every so often, Jesus withdraws for prayer.  But apart from those few verses, I challenge you to find a place in the gospels in which relationship isn’t at the center of the story.
          And it continues in the book of Acts.  We know from Luke’s account that this foundational reliance on relationship continued into the formation of the church.  Anybody remember how Acts begins?  I’ll give you a hint.  (look up at ceiling) 
          The Ascension of Jesus, which is celebrated this coming Thursday.  The apostles are all gathered with Jesus, who is then lifted up out of their sight.
          And as they are standing there, having a spiritual moment, “two men in white robes” appear and say, “Hey, don’t just stand around looking at the sky!  There’s work to do!”  So they return to Jerusalem, choose Matthias to replace Judas, and gather their community together for prayer and meals.  In chapter one, we are told that there are one hundred twenty faithful in that early church.
          Until Chapter Two.  When a wind from heaven blows among thousands of faithful folks gathered in Jerusalem.  The wind is so powerful that its sound draws a crowd.  The wind enables the Apostles to speak in other languages and the crowd to hear everything that is said in their own language.
          So the story of the formation of the Christian church begins with God tearing down the wall God had erected to keep people in their place.  (Google “Tower of Babel”)
          And by the end of Chapter Two, it is clear that this church will be a place of welcome.  A place where people come together to eat, pray, and yeah, love.  And more and more people are drawn to the church.  It is a novel institution, because it doesn’t organize around the typical cultural lines that often define fledgling religions.  Of course, we’re continually fighting that instinct.  In the ELCA, we must remind ourselves that our church isn’t organized around a passion for lutefisk and conflict avoidance. Because our church isn’t a haven for Scandinavian immigrants any more.  In this synod alone, there are ELCA congregations speaking Spanish, Lao, Oromo, and Dinka. 
          Even in the beginning, of course, there were struggles.  How wide should the welcome be?  When Philip meets an Ethiopian court official on the road to Gaza, it is the Eunuch who has to ask, “Look, here is water!  What is to prevent me from being baptized?”
          So what’s the answer? 
          Nothing.  Nothing is the answer.  There should never be barriers to participation in Christ’s church.  The church is an incubator of relationship, and its doors must be wide open.  So Peter baptizes the household of Cornelius, a Roman Centurion.  And Paul takes the gospel throughout the empire.
          Which is where another aspect of this reliance upon relationship appears.  In the early chapters of Acts, the question tends to be “Whom shall we admit?”  What rules can we let go in order to be more welcoming.
          Who holds the power?  The ones deciding whether to welcome.
          But as Paul sails around the Empire, preaching the gospel, getting in trouble, setting up communities, the dynamic changes a bit, doesn’t it?
          Instead of Paul having the power to allow others into the church, Paul must rely upon the people in the communities he visits to support his work, and to build and maintain these fledgling Christian communities.  There’s no centralized authority any more.  As Peter Mayer sings, “God is loose in the world.” 
          So we have wonderful stories like the one before us this morning.  Paul has a vision that says he should go to Macedonia.  Clearly the vision is right, because notice two of the places he visits—Philippi and Thessalonica.
          He gets to Philippi, learns the lay of the land, and on the Sabbath day, they go out to the edge of town, “where we supposed there was a place of prayer.”  There are women gathered, and after Paul preaches, one of them, a woman who should have some wealth, according to her stated occupation, prevails on them to come and stay with her.
          The ministry of Paul, which spread the gospel of Jesus Christ from Antioch to Rome, is utterly dependent upon this sort of generosity.  And that is a wonderful thing!

          I think we all know from our own relationships that they work best when there is equity among the parties.  Give and take.  Shared power. 
          Those are the sorts of relationships that give health to individuals.  And to institutions. 
          It’s true.  I heard it from Harvard.
          What happens as Paul travels around, relying upon the generosity of deacons like Lydia, and Phoebe, is that the power is equalized, and we get a model of relationship which recognizes the gifts of all parties.
          Think about what that means for us as a church.  We have this amazing gospel, and we want to share it with the world.  But the people we want to reach also have wonderful gifts, and we want to receive what they bring.  That is an ethic of Christian community and relationship which was born in the first days of the church and is still being formed and perfected today.  As we consider welcome, we must consider not just how to throw our doors wide to accept those who come, but how shall we be inviting others to share their gifts with us in this community.


























[1] Liz Mineo, Harvard Gazette, April 11, 2017, https://news.harvard.edu/gazette/story/2017/04/over-nearly-80-years-harvard-study-has-been-showing-how-to-live-a-healthy-and-happy-life/, accessed May 25, 2019.

The Shepherd's Voice--Easter 4


Sermon for SMHP, Year C, Easter 4, May 12, 2019
John 10:22-30
               22At that time the festival of the Dedication took place in Jerusalem. It was winter, 23and Jesus was walking in the temple, in the portico of Solomon. 24So the Jews gathered around him and said to him, “How long will you keep us in suspense? If you are the Messiah, tell us plainly.”
          25Jesus answered, “I have told you, and you do not believe. The works that I do in my Father’s name testify to me; 26but you do not believe, because you do not belong to my sheep. 27My sheep hear my voice. I know them, and they follow me. 28I give them eternal life, and they will never perish. No one will snatch them out of my hand. 29What my Father has given me is greater than all else, and no one can snatch it out of the Father’s hand. 30The Father and I are one.”

          From 1974 to 1979, my family lived in this house in Savannah, Georgia.  It’s a great house, made even greater by its location.  Behind us was a street that had been subdivided into lots, but no houses had been built there yet.  So it was all woods, leading to a beautiful salt marsh. 
          In front of our house was an island, a pretty big one as those things go.  So all of the kids in the neighborhood congregated there.  We played hide and seek, and Ghost in the Graveyard.  We pretended to be detectives, or spies.  Or Charlie’s Angels.  I was Sabrina, because that’s the only one I could pull off.
          The general rule was that we kids had to go in when the street lights came on.  But occasionally--and more often around this time of year, when the days grow long—our moms would come out and call us to come in.
          Parents were more hands off back then.  At least ours were.  In our little corner of Savannah, a subdivision with the mythical name, Windsor Forest (Go Knights!), there was safety.  In the summertime, I left the house in the morning with a sack lunch and a first aid kit—yes, I was a ten-year-old with a first aid kit—and I might not be home until those street lights came on.
          But closer to dinnertime, I stuck close to home.  Because God help you if your mom stepped out the front door and called your name.  You had about two minutes to get your caboose into your house, before you were in deep trouble.
          We all learned to listen for our own moms.  The kids who lived further away couldn’t always make out their own names…but they knew their moms’ voices.  Occasionally dads, or siblings, called.  But it was almost always mom.  Calling you to wash up and sit down at the table with the rest of the family, because we really did live in that kind of idyllic world where families ate together at night.
          Where your mom’s voice summoned you to come home.  Like a shepherd calls to his, or her, or their sheep.
          The relationship between sheep and their shepherd is unique in animal husbandry.  The shepherd leads the sheep across hills and valleys for the sake of good health and safety.  Theirs is a relationship of accompaniment and trust, which is why you find shepherds lifted up as models so often in scripture.  From one of the oldest texts in the biblical canon, the 23rd Psalm, to the story of King David, to the birth narrative, parables and teachings of Jesus, shepherds are offered as exemplars of faithfulness and trustworthiness.
          Just as we each recognized the sound of our own mother’s voices while we were deep at play, sheep recognize the voice of their masters.  [show video if possible: https://youtu.be/e45dVgWgV64] 
          When Jesus said “My sheep hear my voice,” he was speaking to an audience who knew what he meant. [Slide 2]  I took this photo on a hill just outside of Jerusalem.  Even the folks who lived in Jerusalem would have seen shepherds at some point.  They make a potent image—faithful folks who live on the margins.  Just one more bit of proof that Jesus was the first theologian of liberation.
          The image of shepherd is one of relationship.  The sheep learn to trust the shepherd, because the shepherd is trustworthy.  The shepherd feeds them, protects them from wolves and other predators, and rescues them when they get lost.
          In return, the sheep listen and obey the shepherd’s voice.  When Jesus uses this image, he has in mind a particular sort of relationship:  that of the disciple to the teacher. 
          The primary task of Christian discipleship is to learn to recognize Jesus’ voice.
          Sounds simple enough, right?
          Yeah, not so much.  Look around you.  How many interpretations can we find for the voice of the Good Shepherd, Jesus Christ?  I have heard so-called “Christian prophecy” that I recognize as neither Christian nor prophetic.  And I know I talk about this a lot, but honestly, there is no greater danger to the church and the faith than the ubiquitous false prophecy calling upon us to close our borders and arm our teachers.  Because people who are still learning to hear Jesus’ voice are learning to follow false prophets and illegitimate doctrine. 
          Just as they were in the time of Jesus which is why we have this and many other stories of him drawing a distinction between his disciples and those who hear another word.
          So how do we accomplish the primary task of discipleship?  How do we learn to recognize the voice of Jesus amidst the cacophony of other calls?
·       We listen for it.  Sounds obvious, but in addition to a lot of false doctrine in the world these days, there’s just a lot of noise.  We need to slow down, make some space to hear our Lord’s voice. 
·       We need to study what his voice sounds like.  Read the Bible.  Learn what is of Jesus and what is not.
·       In particular, we need to learn the values at the center of our Christian faith.  What are some of those values?  [inclusivity, love of neighbor, sacrificial love]
          Luther taught us that all of scripture, and indeed all of our life as Christian believers, was founded upon an understanding of Jesus and his teachings.  Discipleship depends upon our ability to know the voice of our shepherd, and to come when he calls us.
          Once we have mastered that, we are ready to move beyond knowing his voice to being his voice.  One of the ways we follow our Good Shepherd is to lead other sheep—to help them learn to recognize the voice of their Shepherd.
          Rachel Held Evans did that for thousands of Christians who were clinging to faith by their fingernails.  And thousands more like me, who just wished they could say stuff about the gospel as well as she did.
          Rachel grew up in a narrow evangelicalism which veered further and further from gospel truth, until she nearly lost her faith.  Then she left it behind for a life of writing and speaking in the shepherd’s voice.  [Slide] Her best quotes, I believe, were about the purpose of the church.  In her book, “Searching for Sunday: Loving, Leaving, and Finding the Church,” she wrote, “[T]he gospel doesn't need a coalition devoted to keeping the wrong people out. It needs a family of sinners, saved by grace, committed to tearing down the walls, throwing open the doors, and shouting, ‘Welcome! There's bread and wine. Come eat with us and talk.’ This isn't a kingdom for the worthy; it's a kingdom for the hungry.”
          This isn’t a kingdom for the worthy; it’s a kingdom for the hungry.  That is the voice of Jesus, speaking through a mature disciple who learned to hear his voice, at first in spite of the church, and then because of it. 
Run next two slides while speaking.
          People of hope and peace, we must work to be that community.  As individuals, we must listen for our Lord’s voice, learn his values and his teachings, and then invite others to come and eat with us and talk.  So that they may learn too.  It is our calling as disciples, sheep of the good shepherd.  The call to hear his voice and then to be it, as Rachel was.
          Rachel Held Evans died a week ago, of acute brain swelling brought on by a freak reaction to antibiotics.  She was thirty-seven years old.  Her absence leaves a hole in many hearts, most particularly those of her parents, her husband, Dan, and her two small children.  They are devastated.
          And they are joined by so many who heard the call of the Good Shepherd through her.  So many who admit that their faith would have turned to dust, except that they heard Rachel speak of similar experiences.  She had more to say—that is without question. 
          Who will say it for her?
          Who will be The Shepherd’s Voice?