October 24, 2010 - "Showdown in the Temple"

Luke 18:9-14

Jesus is a realist.

Jesus knows what can happen to the best of us.

Jesus knows full well that “being good” can be bad.

Have you ever thought about that?

Being good can be bad…?

Jesus tells a story to those who are “confident” in their own goodness.

Because Jesus knows that goodness can be bad.

Goodness can take a wrong turn.

On that day in the temple, says Jesus, a showdown.

Two men.

One obviously good by all the standards of the day.

One not so good, by all the standards of the day.

The religious leader - well-educated man, good and decent.

The tax collector - a collaborator with the enemy, a quisling … tax collectors were employed by Rome to raise money … how much they raised was up to the tax collector, whatever the market would bear, as long as Rome got its share, the tax collector could keep the rest.

It was a cozy deal for the tax collector who had Roman soldiers standing nearby to strong-arm anyone who didn’t want to pay.

The tax collector was a collaborator with the enemy.

Of these two, which would you prefer to have as your neighbor?

Of course, the religious leader.

We probably wouldn’t like him all that much, and he probably wouldn’t like us either, but he’d keep his lawn mowed and his children quiet.

But let’s push on …

That day in the temple, two men.

The religious leader stood alone!

And he prayed:

God, I thank you that I’m not like others – not like that tax collector over there.

The tax collector stood alone, too, off at a distance … not even looking up to heaven, beating his breast, God, have mercy on me, a sinner.

Of the two men in the temple,

One claims superior status; the other claims nothing.

One thinks he has everything.

The other knows he has nothing.

That day, says Jesus, The tax collector goes home right with God.

Because of a simple truth:

All who exalt themselves will be humbled, but all who humble themselves will be exalted.”

The religious leader failed to realize that whatever he was, and whatever he possessed, it was all from God.

He failed to recognize the source of his goodness.

For by grace you have been saved through faith, and this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God - not the result of works, so that no one may boast. For we are what he has made us, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand to be our way of life [Ephesians 2:8-10].

Every generous act of giving, with every perfect gift, is from above, coming down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change. In fulfillment of his own purpose he gave us birth by the word of truth, so that we would become a kind of first fruits of his creatures [James 1:17-18].

All good things in this life are from God.

The good works we do.

Even our faith in God.

Pure gift.

Given without strings.

Freely given as God determines.

A bounteous rain, falling upon the good and the bad alike.

For there is no partiality in God.

No favoritism.

Just an outpouring of goodness and grace.

For God so loves the world.

The religious leader prays.

That’s a good thing.

But of all the prayers in the Bible, this one prayer is never repeated in the liturgies of the church.

I don’t think a Sunday School teacher has ever taught the students to pray, Thank you LORD that I’m not like other people.

Yet, I wonder, how many times has this prayer been repeated in our hearts, in some form or fashion.

For years, I carried a little paperback Bible in my car, and when I stopped for a light, I would pick it up and read a few verses.

One morning, on my way to church, at a light, I picked up the Bible and was reading.

In the car next to me, a seedy looking guy, cigarette dangling out of his mouth, long hair, loud music, and for one fleeting moment, I thought to myself, “What a good little Christian boy I am, a whole lot better than that clod next to me.”

In that moment, I forgot!

I forgot that it’s all from God.

In that moment, I exalted myself.

Whatever goodness any of us possess.

It’s all from God:

The Father of Lights, as James says.

The Father who bestows upon us the good works – good works prepared before hand, given to us by the Holy Spirit.

Let’s be clear.

The religious leader was good.

Very good.

The tax collector was bad.

Maybe even very bad.

But that day, only the tax collector went home right with God.

It’s a good story for all of us.

Because most of here are good.

Really good.

We give and we serve.

We love Christ and obey the commandments.

We volunteer and make this a better world.

We’re really good.

But Jesus reminds us.

Remember who you are.

You are not self-made.

You didn’t choose me. I choose you!

We are made by God.

And the good we have, and the good we do, is all from God.

To God be the glory is always the story!

How different that day in the temple might have been.

If the religious leader could have looked upon the tax collector with kindness, and offered a humble prayer of thanksgiving, There, but by the grace of God, go I.

Maybe we all need a good dose now and then of Garrison Keillor’s Lutheran humility … to keep things in perspective, and look upon others with a kindly eye.

Perhaps the religious leader might have gone over to the tax collector … put an arm around him and wept together for the difficult days in which they lived …

The religious leader might have said, I see you’re having a bad time of it … but I’m glad you’re here. We’re both sinners saved by grace.

Karl Barth says we’re all sinners … even if we’re moral and devout, we’re only “moral and devout sinners,” still in need of grace. [Ethics, p.343].

As Martin Luther put it: “We’re all mere beggars telling other beggars where to find bread.”

In the relationship of God with us, it is always God who is the Giver, and we who receive [C. Leslie Mittton, James commentary, p.55].

All the good things of life and faith are from the Father’s hand.

The kingdom of God.

The Holy Spirit.

Faith, hope and love.

Grace, mercy and peace.

All are gifts from the hand of God.

Maybe you’re wondering, “So what?”

“What’s the value here?”

But have you ever worried about your faith?

Especially in a bad time?

Have you ever wondered: “Will my faith survive?”

Have you ever feared losing you faith in tough times?

Have you ever been afraid of voicing your doubt, your unbelief?

Over the years, people have said to me, “I worry about my faith.”

“I worry about losing my faith.”

But the glorious reality is this:

We don’t have to worry about keeping our faith, or losing it.

Faith is God’s business.

And what God gives to us God preserves.

What God creates in our life, God will see it through to the very end, and then some.

Our faith in God is God’s faith in us.

Period!

Faith may take a lot of hits, faith may bleed, as Jesus did on the cross, but faith never goes away, and we can never lose it. Beat it, kill it, bury it … but on the third day, God rolls the stone away … and faith is born again!

We need never worry about our faith in tough times ... it wavers, it changes, but faith is God’s business, and what God has started in our life, God will finish, and finish just fine.

If we needn’t worry about our faith in hard times, then we can’t boast about it in good times.

Because faith is always God’s business.

So the next time I’m in my car thinking high and holy thoughts about God, and someone pulls up next to me who is not likely to be thinking of God, I’ll not engage in comparison. I’ll not exalt myself, nor put anyone else down.

I’ll remember that faith is God’s business, not mine.

To be glad to be thinking of God, and not wondering what anyone else is thinking about.

And maybe we can be a blessing to someone today.

And the person next to us?

Who knows what sorrows they carry in their heart.

What burdens they bear.

Just like you and me.

Trying hard to make something of life.

So who are we to every judge the other?

And by the way, if the religious leader made the mistake of thanking God that he was not like others, let’s not make the mistake of praying: “God, I thank you I’m not like the religious leader.”

To look upon one another, even the religious leader of our story, with kindness, generosity and hope … hope that we all can be a little better today than we were yesterday, and that tomorrow morning, our hearts will be a little bigger with God’s love and our thoughts a little kinder toward one another.

To breath a simple prayer at the end of the day:

LORD, I’m grateful that you made me to be me.

I claim nothing, O God, for myself.

When I thought about you today, it was only because you were thinking about me.

Whatever goodness I have, comes from your heart to mine.

Whatever kindness I gave today, I was only passing it on from you.

Whatever truth I know, you taught me.

Whatever strength I have, you gave me.

Whatever faith I have in you, it’s only because you have faith in me.

Help me, dear God, to be good.

Good for others, and good for you.

And, dear God, when I’m not good, forgive me.

And when I am good, help me to keep my head on straight.

Amen and Amen!

Help My Peace Corps Son Fly to His Sister's Wedding

October 10, 2010 - "The Tenth Leper"

Luke 17:11-19

Prayer is a part of everyone’s life, in some form or fashion … I came across this prayer a few days ago … I think you’ll find it helpful:

Dear God, so far today, I’ve done all right.

I haven’t gossiped, and I haven’t lost my temper.

I haven’t been grumpy, nasty or selfish, and I’m really glad of that!

But in a few minutes, God, I’m going to get out of bed, and from then on, I’ll probably need a lot of help.

Thank you! Amen.

I’m sure the ten lepers prayed a lot …

But here they were, outcasts … on the boarder between Samaria and Galilee.

Ten lepers, nine of whom were Jews from Galilee and one Samaritan.

All descendants of Abraham, but they didn’t get along very well.

They were kissin’ cousins who didn’t kiss anymore.

No love lost between ‘em.

But disease cut ‘em all down to size.

Ten lepers.

Galilean or Samaritan, it’s the disease that made them a band of brothers now.

Shunned and despised by their own.

Condemned to a life of loneliness and misery.

Hanging together on the border.

Begging beside the road.

Seeking shelter in the heat of the day.

Trying to stay warm at night.

Stealing a goat now and then and maybe a skin of wine.

Even a leper likes a good dinner when they can get it.

When Jesus is on his way to Jerusalem, he heads south from Galilee to the border region with Samaria, and then eastward to the Jordan River Valley, to head south again to Jericho, and then from Jericho up to Jerusalem in the highlands.

In the border region, ten lepers.

Standing at a distance.

That’s what the law required.

Keep your distance.

Stand back.

They cried out, Jesus, master, have mercy on us.

How did they know it was Jesus?

Luke doesn’t tell us.

But word gets around.

Jesus was a well-known rabbi.

Lots of friends, and enemies in high places.

Folks were keeping an eye on him.

Which was easy enough to do; Jesus made no effort to hide from the eyes of the authorities.

He said what he did, and he did what he said.

To proclaim the kingdom of God.

God is at hand.

Life can be different.

But we have to want it.

And want it bad enough.

And if ya’ mean it, then pray like this when ya’ pray:

Thy kingdom come.

Thy will be done on earth.

As it is in heaven.

So the word was out.

Jesus was heading south.

To Jerusalem.

The religious heart of Israel.

The fabled city of David.

A city set on a hill.

And on the pinnacle of the hill, the Temple.

And its Holy of Holies.

Thousands of priests and Levites, musicians and attendants.

Sacrifices and burnt offerings, the smoke rising high above the city.

The temple offering pouring in from all over the empire.

Tourists all the time.

When Jesus said, I’m going to Jerusalem.

People sat up and paid attention.

This could get good.

It might go down bad.

This rebel rabbi and the Jerusalem establishment.

Toe-to-toe in the Temple Courtyard and on the streets.

The word was out.

Jesus is heading south.

Folks knew what was happening.

Jesus traveled with a group.

His closest disciples and who knows how many others.

So it didn’t take much for the ten lepers to figure things out.

That’s the rabbi I was telling you about.

Here he comes.

Maybe he can do something.

I’ve heard tell that he can heal.

When Jesus sees them, he tells them simply: Go and show yourselves to the priests.

The priests were the learned ones of the day.

They were charged with the care of the community.

The priests made the diagnosis.

If it was leprosy, the patient was declared unclean and sent away.

A person might be declared clean again, only with the priest’s permission.

The text is sparse on detail.

It simply says, on their way, they were made clean.

Then, one of them,

When he saw that he was healed,

Turned back,

Praising God with a loud voice.

He prostrated himself at Jesus’ feet,

And thanked him.

And he was a Samaritan.

Jesus rightly asks:

Were there not ten made clean?

Where are they?

What! Only a foreigner figures it out?

To the Samaritan at his feet, Jesus says:

Get up and go on your way.

Your faith has made you well.

Luke tells the story with a bit of wink.

What? Only this foreigner gets it?

Yes, only the foreigner.

Foreigners figure prominently in Luke’s Gospel.

When Jesus preaches in his hometown, everyone is impressed with his good words, until Jesus reminds the hometown crowd that God’s love has a very wide target.

Jesus preaches about a time in Israel when there was a severe famine in the land, but God sends Elijah to feed a widow in Sidon – a foreigner.

And then Jesus preaches about Elisha in a time when many in Israel were afflicted with leprosy, yet none of them were cleansed … only Namaan the Syrian, a foreigner.

By the time Jesus is done preaching, the hometown crowd is up in arms, seething with anger.

What’s all this talk about foreigners?

What do you mean by this?

What are you trying to tell us?

So they grab Jesus and drag him to the edge of a cliff.

We’re gonna put a stop to this nonsense right away.

No more talk about the love of God for foreigners.

We don’t like foreigners.

We don’t like the way they worship.

We don’t like what they eat.

We don’t like how they dress.

And we can’t understand their language, and when they try to talk our language, they talk funny.

Throw him off the cliff.

Do it now.

Enough of this.

But Jesus slipped through the crowd and went on his way.

To preach for a few more years.

To remind people that God’s love is really big.

Big enough for the whole world.

Big enough for everyone.

In the kingdom of God, there are no strangers.

For the love of God, there are no foreigners.

Like the parable of the sower, the love of God is scattered about, near and far.

Generously.

By the handful.

Seed flying here and there, seed flying everywhere.

God never runs out of seed.

God’s love is without limit.

Without condition.

No questions asked.

Day in and day out, the love of God at work.

At work in all things, for good.

All ten lepers are healed.

Can you imagine how eager they were?

Eager to get to the priests.

Eager to hear the words:

“You’re clean … you can return home now … to your wife, your children … friends and work … welcome back to your life!”

Who wouldn’t be in a hurry on this one?

But one of them sees what’s happened.

Really sees it.

Turns back before seeing the priest.

Before anything else.

Turns to Jesus.

To say Thank you!

I wonder what it felt like for him to leave his companions.

How long had they been together?

This band of brothers.

Begging for handouts.

Scorned and alone.

I wonder what the others said to him as he turned back.

Maybe they thought nothing of it.

After all, he is only a Samaritan.

Freed of their disease, they were free to return to their old habits and patterns.

Jews and Samaritans didn’t hang around together.

Free of the disease, a parting of the ways.

No need to linger on the boundaries.

They returned home.

Nine to Galilee.

One to Samaria.

The thrust of the story is simple.

Only the foreigner really has it figured out.

Where are the other nine?

These Galileans.

I’m one of them, and I just gave them their life back.

But only the foreigner returns to say thanks.

Every nation has its foreigners.

But who’s the foreigner?

Who’s the stranger?

Here in the states, someone from Greece is a foreigner.

But when we visit Athens, we’re the foreigner.

It’s a problem.

How do we deal with the foreigner?

Ancient Israel couldn’t get it figured out.

Foreigners were mostly unwelcome.

Except as slaves.

Yet one of the greatest stories ever told is about a foreigner, and her name is Ruth.

When Solomon dedicates the temple, he prays to the LORD on behalf of foreigners who may come to the temple for prayer, that the LORD will hear their prayers.

The prophet Isaiah says of the stranger: Don’t say you’re a stranger here, because you are not a stranger in the house of God [Isaiah 56].

But Ezekiel says, If you’re a foreigner and uncircumcised, stay outta the temple [Ezekiel 49].

Israel didn’t know how to deal with foreigners.

And I guess we don’t either.

Nations have boundaries.

Borders.

Passport controls and fences.

Every nation does it pretty much the same way.

Germany is trying to figure out what to do with Turkish immigrants, many of whom are Muslim.

France is trying to figure out what to do with the Romas.

Saudi Arabia doesn’t know how to deal with all the foreign workers from India.

And only in recent years has it become possible for a foreigner to apply for Japanese citizenship.

It’s a strange business, to say the least.

Here in the States, as well:

Arizona passes tough laws to stop and question people suspected of being here illegally, and yet Arizona leads the nation in welcoming political refugees from dangerous areas of the world … Arizona is now home to folks from all over the world, including Somalia, Bosnia, Myanmar and the Sudan.

Go figure.

A candidate for governor fires a housekeeper after nine years employment when she finds out the lady is here without papers.

In 1882, we passed the Chinese Exclusion Act – a ten-year moratorium on Chinese immigration and strict requirements on those already here.

In the late 1800s, Irish Catholic immigrants pouring into Boston and New York were the object of scorn and mistrust, because they were going to give the country away to the Pope … and we heard all of that again when John F. Kennedy ran for the presidency.

And in turn, the Italians and the Puerto Ricans went after one another – a tale told bitterly in the musical, “Westside Story.”

When France criticized our invasion of Iraq, it was no longer French Fries, but Freedom Fries.

These days, lots of fear and mistrust about the foreigner.

Most likely someone from Mexico.

Or from the Middle East.

The Statue of Liberty, a gift from a France, says on its pedestal:

Give me your tired, your poor

Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free

The wretched refuse of your teeming shore

Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me

I lift my lamp beside the golden door!

Words written by a Jewish American woman, Emma Lazarus.

Foreigners are always a problem.

Yet we might learn something from the Tenth Leper.

The stranger gets it right; the hometown crowd blows it.

After all, Deuteronomy [10:11] says:

You shall also love the stranger, for you were strangers in the land of Egypt.

We all strangers to the love of God.

We’re all foreigners and aliens.

Paul calls us enemies of God.

Because our sin has driven far from the gates of God.

But God loves the stranger.

God loves the foreigner.

God loves the enemy.

There are no easy answer, but these days, when talk about “foreigners” turns dark, we do well to remember the love of God, and the foreigner, who got it right.

The Tenth Leper who said thanks.

Amen and Amen.

October 3, 2010 - "A Curious Freedom"

Luke 17:1-10

Good Morning Covenant Presbyterian Church …

Covenant on the Corner …

Strong in the things of God.

Faithful to Christ.

Our text this morning is loaded …

Let’s get right to it and see what we have.

Jesus says to his disciples, Be on your guard.

For what?

The ways we hurt one another.

Sins of omission and sins of commission …

The good we’ve failed to do.

The evil we have done.

We have to read today’s lesson in the light of the story from last week, the story of the Rich Man and Lazarus.

The rich man failed to do anything good for Lazarus at the gate …

Because he was rich?

Heaven’s no.

There’s nothing inherently wrong with wealth …

Wealth is a gift from God.

Pure, plain and simple.

It’s all from God.

But it’s easy for us to love the gifts of God even as we forget the LORD our God who gives them to us.

Moses says to the people of Israel:

When the LORD your God has brought you into the land promised to your ancestors … a land with fine, large cities that you did not build, houses filled with all sorts of goods that you did not fill, hewn cisterns that you did not hew, vineyards and olive groves that you did not plant – and when you have eaten your fill, take care that you do not forget the LORD who brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of slavery [Deuteronomy 6:10-12].

The problem isn’t money, but our vulnerability to love the wrong things …

And when we love the wrongs things, everything else goes wrong, too.

There is great gain in godliness combined with contentment;

For we brought nothing into the world,

So that we can take nothing out of it.

But if we have food and clothing,

We will be content with these.

But those who want to be rich

Fall into temptation and are trapped

By many senseless and harmful desires

That plunge people into ruin and destruction.

For the love of money is the root of all kinds of evil,

And in their eagerness to be rich some have

Wandered away from the faith and pierced

Themselves with many pains [1 Timothy 6:6-10]

The Rich Man hurt Lazarus, because the Rich Man ignored him.

The sin of omission: the good we fail to do.

Jesus gets real serious about all of this: It would be better for a millstone to be hung around your neck, and for you to be thrown into the sea, than for you to hurt one of the little ones.

And who are the little ones?

Folks like Lazarus.

The widow, the orphan and the alien.

Anyone who’s vulnerable.

In the Gospel of Luke:

The lost sheep …

The lost coin …

The lost boy …

The poor and the crippled …

The blind and the lame …

Sinners and tax collectors …

Jesus says, It would be better for you to never live at all than to live without compassion, to live without regard for the little ones.

Be on your guard, says Jesus.

Jesus then teaches about forgiveness.

If something is wrong, say so.

Of course!

Speak up.

Speak out.

But if there’s repentance, then forgive.

And if the same person sins against you seven times a day, and turns back to you seven times, and repents, you must forgive.

Because forgiveness is freedom.

Freedom from the power of the other.

Whatever they’re done, whatever they’ve said.

Forgiveness is the declaration of freedom.

That we’re not tied to the behavior of others.

That whatever Susie said to us twenty years ago, or what Sam did to us last week, our lives are not determined by any of it.

So we forgive, and pretty soon we find that we’ve also mostly forgotten.

And if you say to Jesus, But what if they don’t repent?

What if they don’t say, ‘I’m sorry!” Then what!

Jesus turns to us and says:

Dear friend,

Listen to how I died on the cross.

Listen to my words as I die!

Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.

If Jesus had died with bitterness and resentment in his spirit, it would have just been another death.

Period.

If Jesus had died full of anger about the nails in his flesh and the crown of thorns on his head, his death would have been without merit.

In order for his death to have meaning,

Jesus had to unshackle himself from the darkness.

Jesus had to free himself from anger and ill-will.

And he did it by giving it all to God!

Forgiveness, even when no one asks for it, is our ticket to freedom.

Freedom from an embittered soul.

Freedom to find peace with our lot in life.

To trust God in all things.

To live and die in grace.

Well, by now, we’re probably all thinking what the disciples were thinking:

Good God, this is a tall order.

You’re asking us to be on guard.

To be mindful of the little ones.

To pay attention.

To do good.

And on top of that, to forgive.

And forgive a lot.

Good God, that’s a lot to ask.

Increase our faith!

If only we had more faith.

If only our faith were stronger.

But hear the word of the LORD, dear friends!

You already have more than enough faith.

Doesn’t take much at all.

Mustard seed faith.

The tiniest amount of faith can uproot and replant trees.

What is Jesus doing?

He’s reminding us of a great spiritual danger.

Excusing ourselves because “OUR faith isn’t big enough.”

And then we turn around and blame God, because God didn’t answer our prayer and make our faith bigger and stronger.

Jesus says to us, Baloney!

Don’t do that to yourselves.

Don’t do that to God.

And don’t do that to the little ones.

The little ones who are waiting for you.

Waiting for you to act.

Don’t let yourself off the hook so easily.

Don’t excuse yourselves for want of “big” faith.

And, for heaven’s sake, don’t blame God.

Because God has already given you what’s needed.

You already have what it takes, and then some.

You’re strong enough.

You’re good enough.

You know enough.

You can do it.

You see, this isn’t about faith.

It’s about self-confidence.

Confidence in who we are, and how God made us.

God can do a lot of things, and God does a lot of things, but God can’t do everything … and God can’t, and won’t, do anything about our self-confidence.

What should God do?

Say a few magic words?

Then what?

It wouldn’t be our self-confidence any longer.

There’s no greater gift than our freedom to think, to weigh alternatives, to learn from experience and learn from others, and then decide, to act!

I think sometimes we’d like God to take us off the hook of our own humanity, and decide and act for us.

But were God to do that, our humanity would disappear.

Our humanity is bound up in our freedoms to think, choose and act … and often we have to act with courage.

You see, self-confidence is up to us.

We already have the necessary faith.

God has done God’s part.

The rest is up to us!

God says:

Take a chance now and then.

You’ll be surprised at your capacities.

Your gifts and abilities are more than enough.

You certainly don’t need MORE faith.

Put to use what you have.

As our text moves along, Jesus changes course again.

Like a meandering river.

All over the place … with many thoughts.

Jesus ends this teaching moment with an illustration about good attitude.

Jesus uses the image of a servant, coming in from the fields, hot and tired.

But there’s no rest for the weary.

There’s more to be done.

And when it’s done, and done well, don’t break your arm patting yourself on the back.

Jesus knows full well that self-congratulations is the bane of the soul.

The Little Jack Horner syndrome:

Little Jack Horner sat in the corner

Eating his Christmas pie,

He put in his thumb and pulled out a plum

And said "What a good boy am I!"

A good attitude is often heard from people who’ve done heroic deeds: “I was only doing my job,” they say.

That’s the attitude.

Were we kind today? “Just doin’ m’ job!”

Did we stop for the panhandler on the corner and give him a smile and buck? “Just doin’ m’ job!”

Did we join a justice campaign? “Just doin’ m’ job?”

Did we talk to a friend about faith and hope? “Just doin’ my job!”

Did we pray today?

Did we read our Bibles?

Did we help someone?

Did we raise good questions at work?

“Just doin’ m’ job!”

Whatever needs to be done, it’s our job.

That’s why we’re here.

Not for glory or recognition.

Rewards or prizes.

Great stuff to be sure!

Who doesn’t like to be recognized?

And if recognition comes, God be praised.

But keep it all in balance.

Keep it in check.

We have only done what was needed.

We have only done our job.

And that’s the curious freedom Jesus offers to us:

Freedom to live wisely and compassionately.

Freedom to forgive, and forgive a lot.

Freedom to have self-confidence.

Freedom to live and work, and do the job well.

A curious kind of freedom.

Amen and Amen!

September 26, 2010 "Thy Kingdom Come"

Luke 16:19-31

Our story this morning is basic and clear …

Three central characters:

A man totally self-absorbed.

A broken human being at the gate.

And Father Abraham!

The thrust of the story is simple enough.

The rich man has it all, and then he dies.

His soul in Hades.

The beggarman dies, too.

And angels carry him off to the side of Abraham.

"Lazarus Begging Crumbs from the Rich Man's Table"
Heinrich Aldegrever - German, 1552 - Pen and brown ink,
brown wash, traces of black chalk, 3 1/16 x 4 1/4 in.

At the heart of the story, a simple detail.

A detail about names.

It’s the beggarman who has a name.

The rich man remains nameless.

How odd!

In our world, it’s the rich who have names.

Bill Gates, Donald Trump, Oprah Winfrey, Warren Buffet and Paris Hilton – we know them all … their names and stories are in the news and tabloids every day … we follow their adventures and misadventures with interest.

The rich and the famous have names in the kingdoms of the world.

But the kingdom of God trades differently.

It’s the name of the raggedy man that we know.

And his name is Lazarus.

The story ends with a question:

What does it take to awaken a human being?

Would someone coming back from the dead be enough?

The story ends on a dismal note.

Abraham says to the rich man:

Your family already has everything it needs to make better choices.

Your family has Moses and the Prophets.

And if they turn a deaf ear to Moses and the Prophets, what makes you think they’ll listen to someone come back from the dead?

But did you catch the golden thread?

The resources for life are at hand.

We have Moses and the Prophets.

Let’s take a look at Moses.

We all know the story.

The Hebrew people enslaved in Egypt.

Pharaoh issues an edict: “When a male child is born, kill him.”

When Moses is born, his mother puts him in a papyrus basket waterproofed with pitch and places the basket among the reeds of the Nile River, hoping he’ll be safe.

The basket is seens by Pharaoh’s daughter who has come to the river to bath.

She claims the child, and unknowingly hires the child’s mother to nurse and raise the boy, and when he’s of age, to bring him to the palace, and there the princess adopts him as her own son, and bestows upon him the name Moses, because she drew him out of the water!

Moses, a man of two cultures.

Knowing the comfort of the palace and the sorrow of his people.

A great spirit in Moses.

A spirit aroused by the suffering of others.

He comes to the defense of a kinsman being beaten by an Egyptian overlord.

He kills the Egyptian in a fit of anger, and flees for his life to the land of Midian.

In Midian, he comes to the defense of seven sisters who are drawing water, and are attacked by other shepherds.

You can read all about this in Exodus, Chapter 2 … and maybe you can do that today!

In the land of Midian, Moses settles down.

He gains a wife and a child.

A life and a career.

End of the story?

One day, while tending his flocks and minding his own business, Moses sees an odd phenomenon – a burning bush, that burns without consumption …

Moses steps aside to look more closely at the bush enflamed.

And we all know what killed the cat, right?

Curiosity brings Moses into the presence of God.

Before he knows what’s up, God says, Take off your shoes; you’re on holy ground.

And with that, a commission.

To return to the Land of Egypt.

To challenge Pharaoh:

Let my people go.

Not me, says Moses.

Yes, you, says God.

Ten plagues later, Pharaoh relents and lets the people go.

And off they go to the Promised Land.

But Pharaoh has second thoughts, and sends his army in hot pursuit, to the shores of the sea …

Think now if you want, Charleton Heston.

Arms raised, mighty voice commanding the sea.

The waters part.

The people cross safely to the other side, on dry land.

Pharaoh’s chariots furiously following.

But the waters that parted to make way for the people suddenly close in and sweep Pharaoh’s army away.

Within months, the people come to the Promised Land.

It’s theirs for the taking.

But the people balk – fear wins the day.

So it’s back to the wilderness!

Forty years of wandering.

An entire generation.

Until a new generation is born.

Tough enough to take the land.

And through it all, Moses,

Weary and wise.

Impatient and long-suffering.

Full of vision and sometimes ready to give up.

They have Moses, said Abraham.

And we do, too.

We learn from Moses that it’s okay to be human.

It’s the only choice we have.

And our humanity is good enough for God.

We learn from Moses the power of patience.

And the power of prayer.

We learn from Moses that a godly vision is the best vision of all …

We learn from Moses the Ten Commandments – You shall have no other gods before me … for I am the LORD your God who brought you out of the Land of Egypt, out of the house of slavery.

When Jesus was asked to summarize the law, Jesus draws from the Five Books of Moses:

You shall love the LORD your God with all your heart and soul and strength and mind.

And a second is just like the first, says Jesus:

You shall love your neighbor as yourself.

From Moses, we learn about the limits of life:

At the end of his life, Moses stands on a mountain just outside the Promised Land; he can only see it from afar.

Even a man as great as Moses can go only so far, and then the torch of leadership is passed to Joshua.

It’s Joshua who crosses the Jordan into the Promised Land.

They have Moses, says Abraham.

And we do, too.

 And they have the Prophets, says Abraham.

And we do, too.

Elijah and Elisha, who challenge kings and queens.

Isaiah and Jeremiah, with their vision of a just and compassionate society.

Hosea, Joel and Amos, and their unrelenting exposé of dysfunctional religion and social breakdown.

Their honest assessment of crooked judges and corrupt priests and greedy merchants.

Their ceaseless defense of widows and orphans and aliens.

Their tears … their passion … their love of God!

There universality and their inclusivity, anticipating John 3:16, For God so loved the world …

Kathleen Norris writes of her 18 months in a monastery … how the monks read Scripture, morning and night …

Norris writes:

“The most remarkable experience of all was plunging into the prophet Jeremiah at morning prayer in late September one year, and staying with him through mid-November. We began with chapter 1, and read straight through, ending at chapter 22:17. Listening to Jeremiah is one [heck] of a way to get your blood going in the morning; it puts caffeine to shame [The Cloister Walk. P.31].

 “A prophet’s task,” writes Norris, “is to reveal the fault lines hidden beneath the comfortable surface of the worlds we invent for ourselves, the national myths as well the little lies and delusions of control and security that get us through the day” [p.34].

They have Moses and the Prophets, says Abraham.

We do, too … and yes, we have more than that.

We have Christ at the center!

But Christ himself calls us to Moses and the Prophets.

When Jesus preaches to the hometown crowd, Jesus quotes from Isaiah – Jesus defines his work by Isaiah’s words.

We have to know Moses and the Prophets in order to know Jesus …

To know Jesus is our joy, our task, and our calling.

But to know Jesus as Jesus knows himself.

Guided by Moses and the Prophets!

Their spiritual DNA runs deep in the soul of Jesus.

If we want to follow Jesus, we need some gene therapy on the spiritual side of things … an infusion of the spiritual DNA of Moses and the Prophets.

Moses and Elijah

On the Mount of Transfiguration, Moses and Elijah stand with Christ in the bright shining cloud. Moses and Elijah are his companions and his encouragement.

Dear friends in Christ,

We have what’s needed to correct our course and guide our lives.

We have what’s needed to shape the mission and purpose of Covenant on the Corner.

We have what’s needed to change lives and to change the world.

We have Christ.

When the bright shining clouds cleared on the Mount of Transfiguration, Moses and Elijah had stepped back.

Christ remains.

Christ eternal.

Christ at the center.

But Christ only as Christ would have it.

Christ himself with the DNA of Moses and the Prophets.

On the other side of the resurrection, one of the most compelling stories … Jesus on the road to Emmaus, and there he meets two disciples who were on their way home, ready to give up and call it quits.

Jesus walks with them, and talks with them along life’s weary way.

They don’t understand anything.

Jesus says to them:

Oh, how foolish you are,

And how slow of heart to believe all that the prophets have declared!

Was it not necessary that the Messiah should suffer these things and then enter into his glory?”

Then beginning with Moses and all the prophets, Jesus interprets to them the things about himself in all the scriptures.

Christ himself calls attention to Moses and the Prophets.

Putting it personally.

We all want to finish our lives well.

To look back with thanksgiving and satisfaction.

That we did well for the best things of life.

We can do no better than follow Abraham’s advice: learn from Moses and the Prophets … and then Christ will shine in our hearts and empower our lives.

We do well to heed the words of Father Abraham: You have Moses and the Prophets.

Moses and the Prophets, who teach us about the kingdom of God, the kingdom Christ proclaimed, the kingdom for which Christ gave his life, the kingdom that is without end, because Christ rose from the dead.

So when we pray, we pray with heart and mind, soul and strength … we say what we mean, and we mean what say: Thy kingdom come!

Amen and Amen!

September 12, 2010, "As It Is in Heaven"

Luke 15:1-10

Good Morning Covenant Presbyterian Church … Welcome Back … summer is done, and we’re home from our travels … the kids are back in school, and if we have a garden, we’ve got tomatoes … so many tomatoes, we put them in a bushel basket, bring them to a neighbor’s front porch, ring the doorbell, and run!

Good Morning Covenant Presbyterian Church … Welcome Back … welcome to a new season of ministry … welcome to all the things that make for a church – Sunday School and Session meetings … church budgets and Stewardship Campaigns … fellowship dinners and mission trips … projects and propositions and possibilities.

Good Morning Covenant Presbyterian Church … Welcome Back …

Things that sustain us in our walk with Christ - prayer and study and fellowship and worship …

The Christian life needs tending …

Like a garden needs weeding …

Like a lawn needs mowing …

The Christian life needs tending …

We help each other with that …

We help each other stay focused …

Focused on our task, the high calling of Christ: thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven.

Thy will …

On earth …

As it is … in heaven.

We all live with standards of excellence.

When we cook a dinner, we know what it should look like and what it should taste like …

We use a ruler to measure a piece of drapery, so that it fits the window.

The carpenter uses a level when building the shelf.

The engineer uses sophisticated software to run the computations again and again, to be sure it’s right.

The physician has her textbooks and the latest medical journals.

And Christians have heaven … thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven.

Jesus gives us heaven.

The level for the shelf.

The tape measure for the drapery.

The textbook for the surgery.

An image of life …

Life intended by God …

Life as it should be …

Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven …

Life guided by high purpose …

Life guided by faith, hope, and love …

Life guided by grace, mercy and peace.

As it is in heaven.

And how is it in heaven?

And how shall it be on earth?

In heaven, there are no lost causes.

In heaven, God never gives up.

A sheep is lost?

God sets out to find it.

A coin misplaced?

God lights a lamp and sweeps the floor.

The intensity of God’s love.

There is never a lost cause.

The sheep is found and returned to the flock.

The coin recovered and all is well.

As it is in heaven …

Angels rejoice.

Heaven throws a party.

Kick up your heels and pop a cork.

Throw a steak on the grill, and invite the neighbors.

Donna and I attended a groundbreaking yesterday for a new Habitat for Humanity project … three new homes in Lynwood …

Three families soon to have a place of their own … safe and comfortable.

Lynwood’s mayor was there … a city councilman … the families approved for the project …

And a bunch of Presbyterians …

We all donned hardhats and grabbed a shovel … with cameras rolling, folks clapping, the first dirt was turned on this new project.

As it is in heaven.

God doesn’t sit around wringing God’s hands and complaining about lost sheep and misplaced coins … the sheep isn’t scolded … nor the coin condemned.

God just goes to work.

Because there’s always a way.

It may take awhile.

It may take days and months and years … and setbacks and disappointments … to rebuild New Orleans … to rebuild lives shattered by an exploding gas line in San Bruno … none of this is easy; all of it hard.

It takes a heap of livin’ to make a life.

Love and marriage … gay or straight …

Children and family …

Illness and mortgages …

It takes awhile, and the work can be hard.

The shepherd must have said, I know where the sheep is; I know where to look … but the lost sheep wasn’t there … and on to the next place, and the sheep wasn’t there either … but the shepherd doesn’t give up … the shepherd keeps on looking … until the lost sheep is found.

Heaven possess confidence …

Lost sheep are found …

Lost coins recovered …

Homes are built.

Communities transformed.

Lives changed.

As it is in heaven.

Jesus gives us heaven so that we can live well …

On earth as if it were heaven.

To remember:

There are no lost causes.

To remember:

There is always a way.

To remember:

Moaning and groaning never solve the puzzle.

Just stay with it …

No matter how many disappointments.

Keep on looking.

Keep on praying.

Keep on loving.

Confident in our labors …

Confident in God’s love at work in all things …

Confident that love prevails over hatred …

Confident that for every Terry Jones who wants to burn the Quran and fuel the fires of hatred, there are millions who choose the better angel … who build bridges rather than dig chasms … who extend the olive branch rather than the sword …

Confident that folks like Terry Jones haven’t a clue …

And if we want clues about life …

We have a cloud of witnesses surrounding us.

Folks at Habitat for Humanity know the truth …

People bagging groceries at LAX Food Pantry know the truth …

Folks at a downtown soup kitchen ladling out beans and rice know the truth.

People who go to Nicaragua and build bridges of understanding know the truth …

Folks who come faithfully to worship … who sing and teach … who write the checks and give of themselves a thousand times over – these are the folks who know the truth.

A man like Terry Jones wants us to remember backwards … always looking backwards … to the moment the Towers fell … remembering only the horror and the pain … stoking the fires of anger and vengeance …

But it’s a poor memory that only works backward.

There is a memory that claims the future.

A memory that leans forward.

On ABC this weekend … a remarkable story about some of the 9/11 children who lost a father … the children were but infants at the time, so all they have now is their father’s eyes, or his smile … and the mementoes of a man they never knew.

The children grieve as only children do.

Purity in their tears.

Innocence in their hearts.

A holy innocence.

An innocence that we’ve got to protect!

Men like Terry Jones tread upon these children with dirty shoes …

The American landscape right now is full of people with dirty shoes … preachers and politicians and pundits who want us to remember backwards … to remember the pain and cuddle the spirit of vengeance.

Preachers who bemoan the day, and claim that America is going down the tubes.

Pundits who want to “restore America’s honor” they say.

Politicians who want us to look backward … “to a better day,” they say.

But better days are ahead of us, dear friends.

Better days, different days, to be sure.

Nothing stays the same.

The world changes.

We can’t hold on to yesterday.

So why even try?

A memory that works backward is a poor memory indeed.

But in places like this, our memory works forward.

We have something coming toward us that leads us onward.

The kingdom of heaven.

Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven.

I can see a new day … a new day soon to be.

Welcome back, dear friends, welcome back.

We start anew.

We start again.

We strain ahead to the high calling of Christ.

Our eyes are on the prize.

As it is in heaven.

Dear friends in Christ:

There are no lost causes.

God never gives up.

God goes to work.

God shoulders the cross.

Because the work ain’t easy.

And we shoulder the cross, too.

Because there is no Christ without a cross.

There is no faith without a lot of hard work.

But this we know.

This we believe.

Sheep are found.

Lost coins reclaimed.

Thy will be done on earth … as it is in heaven.

Amen and Amen!

September 5, 2010, "Becoming You"

Luke 14:25-33

Jesus said to the disciples:

Whoever comes to me and does not hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, yes, and even life itself, cannot be my disciple. Whoever does not carry the cross and follow me cannot be my disciple.

Well, that’s right to the point, isn’t it?

What did Jesus mean?

Doesn’t the Bible tell us to honor our father and our mother?

Indeed, it does!

So what is Jesus getting at?

Jesus is preparing his disciples for the work of the kingdom.

Jesus knew that the times were perilous.

Rome was in charge, and the religious leaders of Jerusalem had god all figured out.

It was a dangerous time.

And Jesus well knew that in such times, hard decisions were required.

Like an expedition leader crossing over a high and dangerous mountain pass to bring relief supplies to a remote village.

The leader says to everyone helping, “If you want to go any further, you’ll have to leave your packs behind. From here on out, the path is steep and dangerous, and it’s too hard to carry all your stuff, so just leave it here, beside the trail. And we’re not likely to pass this way again, so you may not ever see it again. And if you have any postcards to send home, do it now at the next village, because some of us may not make it back home” [from Tom Wright’s commentary on Luke].

Let me offer a few ideas on this passage from Karl Barth, but, first, let me tell you a little bit about Barth himself.

Born in 1886 in a Swiss parsonage, Barth grew up to become one of the greatest theologians of the 20^th Century.

Barth was teaching theology in Bonn, Germany, 1932, when Hitler and his Brown Shirts marched into power.

Barth was an early critic of German nationalism sweeping across the nation … the juggernaut of propaganda weaving together god and country, religion an race … Germany first, Germany best of all, Germany uber alles … and God is on our side.

Millions of Christians signed on with Hitler.

They thought that Hitler’s morality was just the ticket to restore a failing nation.

Hitler opposed abortion.

Hitler opposed pornography.

Hitler despised gays.

And he didn’t like aliens.

A message that appealed to millions of Germans.

But it was a confused message.

God and country and faith and flag and morality, all wrapped up into a package that led Germany nation down a darkening way …

All that glitters isn’t gold.

Behind this strange message of god and country, a deeper, darker message of world-conquest and the systematic seizure of Jewish assets and the eventual elimination of the Jewish race.

Hitler’s “morality” was a screen for a darker purpose.

And it worked.

Barth called it for what it all was – false gods, holding a cup of wrath in their hands … a cup filled with hatred … hatred for gypsies, Jews, homosexuals, communists and all non-Aryans … a cup poured out upon Germany and the entire world.

Barth saw it coming!

And made his decision.

All university professors were ordered to begin their lectures with Heil Hitler … Barth refused.

All university professors were required to sign a loyalty oath of absolute allegiance to the Fuhrer … Barth refused.

As a result, Barth was removed from his teaching position and ordered to have no further public appearances.

Thankfully, Barth was able to return home to Switzerland and in Basle, resume teaching and writing.

Others had no such recourse.

Some of Barth’s friends paid with their lives for their allegiance to Jesus Christ … 

When Barth speaks about decision-making, we can pay attention.

Barth says of this passage:

The biblical word for hate is not “emotional aversion.”

It’s not hostility, contempt or repugnance.

It does not apply personally to a mother or a father, but to the ties they embody and represent.

The disciple must be free of all such ties … because the way ahead may be very difficult.

And profound decisions may be necessary.

Not that a disciple would ever neglect the biological or social obligations of family … not at all, but a readiness to set the heart upon God [Church Dogmatics, 3.4.262].

Barth says this decision might even be reached agreeably by the whole family …

I can only think of Barth and his family - the heart-wrenching discussions they had in threatening times of Nazi Germany … and many families like them, in desperate times, as they thought about Christ, and what it means to follow him.

Jesus tells us the truth about discipleship.

We wouldn’t want it any other way, would we?

And we shouldn’t tone it down.

Nor sugarcoat it.

Jesus wants us to be clear.

He’s not recruiting us for a committee …

We’ve all been asked to serve on a committee a time or two.

We know the drill.

We ask about the responsibilities, and we’re told: “Oh, it won’t be much at all … a monthly meeting … maybe some paperwork now and then … but don’t worry about it.”

So we sign on.

And then, “Surprise!”

The monthly meeting turns into three or four.

The paperwork turns into a mountain of correspondence.

When it comes to Jesus,

We’re not buying a pig in a poke.

Jesus is upfront and honest.

There may be times when push comes to shove …

When the chips are down …

No more wiggle room …

You have to decide …

You have to choose …

Jesus tells us the truth:

It may be a costly business, following me.

Sacrifice may be required.

So pay attention.

Think about it.

Don’t start out on this course until you’re ready to go the distance.

Count the cost of the tower you want to build before you lay the first stone.

The price of the fight you want to fight.

As Barth wrote about this passage, I can only imagine him thinking back to the fateful days of the Thirties … the decisions he made … the decisions others made, too … 

Decisions that separated loved ones and families.

Decisions of faith that ended in death for many.

Few of us will ever have to make such momentous decisions.

A friend of mine, an sporting-goods executive, was ordered by his boss to fire 300 employees of a company recently taken over. My friend refused … and resigned his job because of it. He talked with me about it – he was married, but no children. But a home, a career …

Sometimes the road with Christ gets difficult.

Most of our decisions for Christ are on a smaller scale.

But even small-scale decisions are difficult sometimes.

I think small decisions for Christ can be difficult, as well.

We’ve all made decisions for Christ.

And sometimes they’ve been costly!

What e’er the cost we might pay.

It is far less than the price Jesus paid.

However heavy our cross may be,

It is far lighter than the burdens Jesus carried.

To redeem our souls and set us free.

To become who we are best of all: daughters and sons of God.

For that is who we are, and that is who we are becoming!

Amen and Amen.