February 28 -- Makes & Never Breaks (Lent 2B)

Grace to you and peace from God who makes and never breaks the covenant with us.  AMEN.

I’m looking this morning at our first lesson from Genesis.

Abraham and Sarah are given new names in the covenant that God makes and never breaks with them.

And we too are given new names in the covenant that God makes with us in holy baptism.  Share with the person in the room with you, or if you’re joining with us, share those special names we were given, no titles, no last names – just our naked and blessed first and middle original names.  For many of us that was the name spoken when we were baptized.

God makes a covenant with us.  And there are always two sides to a covenant.  

What is God’s side of the covenant?

God’s side of the covenant: to do the impossible –
giving Abraham and Sarah a child.  (Can you believe it?)
making this insignificant Iraqi couple the mother and father of today’s 3 major world religions.  Muslims, Christians and Jews all share the same ancestors: Abraham and Sarah! (Can you believe it?)
God’s side of the covenant: to do the impossible –
to forgive you all your sins and grant you newness of life.  
At the beginning of our worship every Sunday: we confess and receive this forgiveness of sins.
    (Can you believe it?)
 

Beloved, God’s word never fails.
The promise rests on grace:
by the saving love of Jesus Christ,
the wisdom and power of God,
your sins are forgiven and God remembers them no more.  Journey in the way of Jesus.  Amen.

Siblings in Christ, God always makes the first move.  Yesterday in confirmation: diagramming sentences...

But what about our side of the covenant?  Wrote a song about it..
“take up our cross and follow Jesus.”
-live among God’s faithful people
-hear the Word, celebrate the Meal
-proclaim the good news of God in Christ through word and deed
-serve all people following Jesus’ example
-strive for Justice and peace in all the earth.
“take up our cross and follow Jesus.”

The cross we bear is the one that was streaked across our foreheads in our baptisms, on Ash Wednesday, whenever we touch water...

The key to both sides of the covenant: faith and trust.
God’s faithfulness.  And our trusting in God’s goodness.

With Luther, and for us as Lutherans, faith is a gift…so the key is really accepting faith/trust in God, which God gives us in baptism.

I can’t think of a better image of trusting in God than the image of offering our money…back to God.  Please, please don’t hear this as a fundraising drive.  I could care less about money-raising right now.  This is a deeply spiritual practice to take our income and lift a percentage of it up to God.  The offering was the original point of worship for the ancient Hebrews.  Abraham will learn this as the story in Genesis continues.  Worship is taking the best of what you have, what God has given you, and offering it up.  In his day, it was his best sheep.  In our day, it’s our money.  The offering is a symbol of trust, at the heart of our worship service, right in the middle, between the Word and the Meal.  Because our money is so important to us.  

A little while back I met with a group of pastors and we sat around and simply shared our own giving stories.  Basically, how do we practice offering our money.  

Where did we get our ideas about that.  
And I was inspired and a little shocked, to be honest –

…shocked because the stories I heard about faithful giving did not come off as pious or pompous they came off as inspiring – our bishop talks about how she kept tithing during a season of her life that was the most difficult, financially.  And she can move us to tears as she reflects on how...it was all about trust in God.  

 You too are examples of a people who have accepted the gift of faith, Bethlehem friends!  God gives us faith in our baptism.  It’s not something we have to earn or grow or manage.  It’s just offered freely to us.  And we turn and offer back to God, in so many ways.   

Lent is a time to reflect again on our tithes and offerings.  It’s one of the pillars of Lent: giving praying fasting.

You are examples of a people who have accepted the gift of faith!  Every time you open your hands and receive the bread and wine, you are opening yourselves to God’s guidance in your lives.  And that is inspiring and shocking too.  It is a symbol of that covenant made new in Christ Jesus who promises us forgiveness and ever-presence.

And here’s the thing:  God never breaks that covenant.  We might fall short, but God never breaks the covenant.  We might change, but God never breaks the covenant.  God always keeps God’s promises.  

God always keeps God’s promises.  And here’s the promise God makes to us on our Lenten journeys:  “I will be with you.  As you seek ways to live more faithfully, I will be with you.  As you continue to struggle to be honest about some wrong directions and decisions you’ve made in your life, I will be with you.  As you struggle to offer back to me,” God says, “what I have first given you, I will be with you.  As you struggle to receive this gift of faith, as you struggle to trust, I will be with you.  As you live out, struggle to live out, the covenant I made with you in your baptism, I will be with you.”  

These Lenten days can be very difficult, if we take them seriously, if we take up our crosses and follow.  To the rest of the world these days are just more busy days, routine days, nothing-special days in our lives (oblivious to the fact that all of this is a gift from God — all of this:  the paint on the wall, the raindrop from heaven, the air in my lungs — is a gift from God).  To the rest of the world these days are just more busy days, shaped by the news headlines and the retail sales.  But to us who struggle to follow Christ, to us who gather to be together and recognize that everything is a gift of God, to us who have opened our hands and received the gift of faith, we have a promise.  “Never will I leave you.  Never will that change.” Jesus assures, “Come, pick up your cross, lose your life today…and find it in me forever.”  AMEN.

February 21 -- Hallelujah Anyhow (Lent 1B)

Friends in Christ,

Welcome to an Hallelujah Anyhow Lent!  

“No matter what comes my way, I’ll lift my voice and say, Hallelujah Anyhow!”

Now, I wonder how many of you are loving this Gospel music style?  And how many of you are not...especially during Lent!

I’ve known we were going to do this ever since our worship planning meeting in January.  As we talked about  all the hardships of this year, this pandemic season, this divided nation, this troubled heart…and decided together, let’s sing Hallelujah anyway this time around.  Yeah there’s meaning in refraining from the A-word (or H-word, depneding on how you spell it), but not this time.  We can still mark Lent.

And believe me, my little liturgical heart has been pitter-pattering ever since!  Singing Hallelujah during Lent...much less singing it joyfully and upbeat? We always, bury/fast from the Alleluias during Lent.  
But this year’s different...in so many ways, and we’ve gotta sing out, “My God has never failed me yet so I’m gonna stand my ground…”  

Look at this Gospel text for today:  We jump back to Chapter 1 again, and it starts with the heavens ripping open, the dove descending, Jesus gettin’ baptized, and the original voice (same one we heard last week on the mountain of Transfiguration) — that original voice saying “You are my son, the beloved, with you I am well pleased.”

And then immediately—right after that—no baptismal reception, no cake in the Jordan River narthex, no handshakes and hugs—no, immediately the Spirit drives Jesus out into the wilderness...TO BE TEMPTED BY SATAN!  FOR 40 DAYS!      

Welcome to Lent, right?  We’re now into day 5 of our 2021 40-day Lenten journey.  I don’t know about you, I’d rather ease into Lent.  You giving anything up for Lent?  Taking anything on?  I’d rather kind of try it.  Grace, you know? But look at Jesus: ALL in!  Tempted, wilds, 40 days, no games.  Satan.

Friends in Christ, we’ve got a lot to contend with too.  Our baptismal liturgy isn’t messing around:  

“Do you renounce the devil and all the forces that defy God?  Do you renounce the powers of this world that rebel against God?  Do you renounce the ways of sin that draw you from God?”  

These are the questions at the baptismal font.

We’ve got a lot to contend with, and Mark’s Gospel style is honest about that.  So is our atypical Lenten Gospel Acclamation!   “Through every test and trial, I’ve got the victory.  The enemy has tried his best to make me turn ’round, bring me down…”
—
Our Lent this year begins also with the story of Noah and the flood!  Maybe you haven’t thought about it since Sunday school?  It’s a troubling story as an adult: God wanted a re-do on creation.  Everything had gone awry, and so God flooded the planet, save for a very few, but God also said never again would that happen.  God was heartbroken that it did, and God put a rainbow in the sky — a reminder of peace and beauty instead of violence at the last.  

We live on this side of the flood, the rainbow side!  Whenever we talk about Noah and the flood during Lent, you have to think: baptism.  The waters that destroy are also the waters that save!  

Jump back to Mark and Jesus getting baptized, there’s that dove again!  The sky ripping open, but instead of a deluge of destruction, God keeps the covenant, God cares about what happens down here, and on this side of the flood, on the rainbow side, it’s the dove of peace that descends among us.

But that doesn’t make the struggle go away.  In fact, the struggle just begins.  Mark keeps it real!  Jesus is driven immediately into the wilds to be tempted, right away.  And then we hear about John’s arrest on top of that!  And that’s right about the time — right at the moment of temptation and testing, trials and tribunals, right at the moment of arrests and riots, racism and injustice, right at the moment of horror and disease, and despair, right at the moment of bloodshed and even death — that’s right when Jesus shows up among the people and starts proclaiming and preaching the good news — that God has come near.  That’s a soft translation.  The Greek actually says God IS here, now.  Change your ways.   

Temptation and turmoil are still coming our way on this side of flood.   But God is with us anyhow.  Hallelujah?  Through it all, “through every test and trial, [you’ve] got the victory.”  

This is Lent is Markan:  Being baptized, blessed, beloved — we don’t then escape the challenges, the struggles, the pains of this life: no, we’re driven right into them...immediately.  And still we’re gonna sing, “Hallelujah anyhow.”  God’s never failed us yet, so we’re gonna stand our ground.  

Lent this year starts with a making a stand.  Making our stand in the cold waters, as we remember the covenant God made with Noah after the flood, and the covenant that God made with us after the baptismal waters “splish, splash,” crashed down on you and me!  It all starts there, and then immediately the troubles come our way.  OK.

Don’t be surprised.  Don’t be discouraged.  Don’t be afraid.  These things are bound to happen.  

(Speaking of liking or disliking this Gospel musical style Gospel Acclamation — I saw Bono of the band U2 give a great interview, where he talked about Gospel music — “everything is up” vs. the Blues — honest.  Maybe listen to Blues music this Lent too.  Honest.)  

The cross is honest.  Our central symbol, even here at Bethlehem, the place of the manger, the cross comes first.  It’s stark.  Troubles are bound to come our way.  And yet, in the shadow of the cross, we sing together.

Friends in Christ, peace be with you on this side of the flood, the rainbow side.  Peace be with the stands that you make this season.  As you stand for justice, as you stand for those who are hungry and homeless and cold this week through Hypothermia Shelter — so much struggle and pain for so many — peace be with you as you stand your holy ground in the waters of baptism, in the Gospel of God.  The peace that Jesus gives us isn’t a cheap peace, on the surface, it’s down in our bones.

Nothing can shake it.  Not temptations, not heartaches, not ship wrecks, not terror, not even death itself.  

For WE know, that God has the final say, that Christ conquers Satan, that life on this side—on the rainbow side—of the flood, is renewed:  a gift of grace, made new each day in the waters of baptism.  Splash yourself every day of Lent, and give thanks for your baptism.  

And that goodness is ours to share.  Hallelujah?  That goodness, comes from God, and will stay with us through it all.  Amen.

September 27 -- Becoming *Teleios* (Pentecost 17A)

Grace to you and peace from God who creates us from the muddy clay of the earth (I was on the shores of the Chesapeake this week, beautiful muddy earth), from Jesus who bridges us from our primal separation from God because of sin, and from the Holy Spirit, who comforts us when we are afflicted, and who afflicts us when we are comfortable.  Amen.

At first glance this reading might lead us to the simple conclusion and popular aphorism that ACTIONS SPEAK LOUDER THAN WORDS.  There are two sons.  The father asks them both to go out into the field, one says he’ll go and doesn’t.  The other says he won’t and does.  Jesus makes a model of the latter.  

But, after praying and studying this text, I’m not sure
A-S-L-T-W, is really the lesson here.  


First of all, in my own experience and in the experience of many that I’ve listened too…words sometimes (not always) speak louder than actions.  It’s not pretty or fun to talk about, but the wounds from violent actions (physical abuse) can heal, but the wounds from violent words (emotional/spiritual abuse—insults that cut deep, threats, even just indifference to another’s presence or opinions) sometimes never heal.  So not only is “a.s.l.t.w.” an interpretation of this particular scripture text that I don’t agree with, it’s a saying that I don’t think is even completely accurate.     

So let me share with you a concept that flows through the entire Bible, certainly through the book of Matthew and therefore arches over this passage today...  

Teleios.  The Greek word is teleios.  And it means mature, or complete, or commonly translated as perfect.  Matthew 5:48 (be perfect even as God in heaven is perfect.) or Matthew 19:21 (Jesus said, "If you wish to be perfect go, sell your possessions, and give the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me.")  I think translating teleios as “perfect” gets us headed down the wrong path.  (I’m just full of opinions today, huh?)  “Mature” or “complete” is more like it.  The best way to think about this overarching theme of teleios is to think about it in terms of fruit.  A banana or a pear is teleios — not when it is completely free of blemishes, but  — when it is ready to eat.  When it is ripe.  When it has come to fruition or come full circle.  

So read these texts with that in mind.  “Come to fruition, even as your God in heaven has come to fruition.”  There’s more of a notion of process here, and that’s very important to remember.  

So returning to the two sons, with the concept of teleios—coming to fruition—in mind, let’s look at it again:

Jesus praises the brother who “says no” but “acts yes”…because he is engaged in the process of coming to fruition, he is ripening.  The other brother is not.  The other brother has chosen to reject the opportunity to go out and to work in the vineyard; he has refused the ripening process.  In other words, he has rejected the journey of transformation.

Siblings in Christ, God is calling us this day to engage or perhaps renew our engagement, and enter again into teleios, into the process of coming to fruition as a disciple, a follower of Jesus.  God is calling us into a journey of transformation.

Grace is empty, if the process of discipleship is not evident, if there is a refusal to ripen.  Bonhoeffer called that the “carcass of cheap grace”…If we’re not on the journey of transformation, engaged in the ripening, the coming to fruition, the maturity and completeness, the teleios...then you simply haven’t experienced God’s grace.  The church has failed you.  The pastor has failed you.  When God’s people are saying yes, but acting no, teleios has gone dormant.   

Our Gospel today calls us to the vineyard, to follow Jesus, not just to say that we believe in Jesus.  Our Gospel text for today is about coming full circle.  

One way to illustrate this text is by looking at worship—what we’re in the midst of right now.  Our faith, which is expressed here on Sunday morning, guides us into our week, bringing us to fruition, bringing us full circle.  Worship/Church is more than mere tradition, it’s more than just “what we do/say” on Sunday.

How many of you have ever participated in any sort of theater production?  Been to a dress rehearsal?

You see, worship is a dress rehearsal for Gospel living.  
Think about the purpose of the dress rehearsal:  It solidifies what we already know (lines), introduces something new (costumes), and prepares us for what’s ahead (opening night).  Bringing everything full circle.  

[look the sections at bulletin] Worship too, solidifies what we already know (in the gathering we are reminded and again we receive forgiveness of sins), introduces something new (as together we enter into the Word of God, and new light is shed on our understandings of the saving work of Jesus Christ), and through Bread and Wine, Body and Blood, the waters of the Baptismal font, we are prepared for what’s ahead, we are washed and nourished with heavenly water and food for the journey, the journey of discipleship—we are engaging in the journey of transformation, in teleios...even right now!  

And what follows worship?  What is that Sending all about (“go in peace, remember the poor,” we say today)?  Because we receive forgiveness of sins right at the beginning, flowing from the baptismal font, here in worship, we are able to forgive others during our week.  Coming full circle.  Because there is a proclamation from this Holy Book about God’s love and God’s hope on account of Jesus Christ, we are then enabled to speak words of love and forgiveness. Coming full circle.

Because justice is alive at God’s Holy Table, as all are welcome to the feast of Jesus’ own body, edible grace, then we are empowered to live out that same model of justice and compassion, welcoming and feeding the friend and the stranger alike. Coming full circle.  Because we are sent out with God’s blessing at the end of our worship service, we are filled with the task of sending others, empowering others, inviting others to follow Jesus, calling others back into the love of God…through both our words and our actions. Coming full circle.

We are not a “gathering of eagles around a carcass of cheap grace,” on Sunday mornings.  Worship for us is more than just a going through the motions each week.  Worship is a dress rehearsal for Gospel living, a modeling of God’s very will being done here on earth “as it is in heaven.”  

Here we are caught in the undertow of grace, here we are swept up in the process of coming full circle, in the ripening, in the coming to be the people God has molded us, breathed into us, redeemed us, and filled us anew to be!

You know, I went to some vineyards here in Northern Virginia recently...last week.  It was good to look out over the vineyards (and enjoy a nice blend of grapes), but I was thinking about how could I align even better my own words with my actions.  After all, we’re coming into the stewardship season, the season of giving back with joyful hearts, what God has first given us.  

And I am pondering what I might give up or take on during these days.  Not just discipleship disciplines in Lent: what kinds of faith actions can we put into practice now, in response to the grace that God has first given us?    Let’s make these a faith-moves together.  Let’s do teleios together — might look different for each of us.  Some might give up meat after seeing the impact that consumption has on the planet, others might write letters, others might try tithing, others might volunteer, or protest, or make phone calls to members of this congregation.  Words and actions lining up, you see, I’m pondering this myself, and even if I had something to share I’m not sure I’d want to roll it out here in a sermon in some grand exposition of my faithfulness...I’m praying on it...  

But if I am going to speak about compassion and justice, I have to ask how I might start to act more in that direction.

Pay attention this week to the nudgings of the Spirit, that’s how the Holy Spirit works…quiet ways.

Where is God whispering to you this week, how is that gracious and loving Holy Spirit is afflicting the comfortable areas of your life.  How is God inviting you to have your words and your actions come full circle?  How are you becoming teleios?   Because I have no doubt that God is working on you.
        
As that complicated Holy Spirit continues to nudge you, at the very same time, may God’s loving arms of mercy and peace wrap around you and fill you with all-goodness and grace, even today, even now, and forever more.  AMEN.

September 13 -- The Country of Forgiving-ness (Pentecost 15A)

I feel like these last weeks of lessons from Matthew have been preparing us for this bombshell today.  

Forgiveness is the ultimate question.  How are you doing with forgiveness, I’ve been asking us all.  How are you doing at forgiving others; and how are you doing at the fact that you have been forgiven by others...and by God?

And just in case we want to just check off this work like another chore on our lists, Jesus blows Peter’s mind:

Peter is looking to check a box or two or twenty.  I say he wants to “one-and-done” forgiveness.  “How many times, Lord?  What form do I fill out, where do I sign?”  But Jesus calls him (and us) to see that forgiveness is not an item on a checklist, but a country.  

Jesus tells Peter not to keep score, but to immigrate to a the land of “forgiving-ness” — that’s what the  77x means.  Seven refers to wholeness, so Seventy-seven is the “wholest wholeness,” a total state of total forgiving-ness.  A new place to live.  Build your life there, Jesus says.  

We live in a tit-for-tat land, where we check items off of lists, payback and pay-up to settle accounts.  It’s hard for us to accept undeserved kindnesses — whether that’s physical gifts or compliments or favors — if someone gives me something, I want to pay it back or pay it forward or pay it off...and not feel like I owe anything to anyone.  It’s programmed deep down there in our protestant-capitalist-dog-eat-dog-scratch-my-back-I’ll-scratch-yours-work-ethic DNA.  

So it’s really hard to hear this message today.  
It’s really hard to pack up and move.  

Or even to envision this new territory that Jesus and Paul and Joseph in the Old Testament are mapping for us today, this “Commonwealth of Forgiving-ness”!
—
The brothers in that great OT story of reconciliation are still not being honest in their making amends with their brother Joseph — they try to strategize and pull at the heartstrings of Joseph and his long-lost father’s wishes (“Let’s tell him that Dad would want this…”).  

But Joseph, who definitely wasn’t perfect either, has this moment of divine intervention.  There’s no other way to describe it, like all the cases of forgiveness.   God picks Joseph up and puts him on a raft, blows a wind, and Joseph enters into the country of forgiving-ness.  Joseph blazes the trail into this new territory, into Seventy Seven:  “Have no fear, I will provide for you and your little ones.”  
And that, by the way, made it possible for his brothers to get there too.  As they embrace.  “Do not fear, God has made this for good.”  And they weep tears of joy.

Someone’s gotta venture out there, cutting through the strangler vines and thistles of resentment and past grievances and often downright evil.  The brothers, you remember, threw Joseph into a pit, left him to die decades ago.  Joseph gets pulled out by traders passing by who carry him like a commodity to sell in Egypt.  ...Lotta time for a thick forest of anger and resentment to grow.  The weeds of disdain and revenge can take over, especially as Joseph amazingly rises to power and to a position in Egypt to exact payback on any of his past abusers.

But that’s not what happens.  Someone’s gotta blaze the trail, and Joseph was the imperfect candidate God selected.  Someone’s gotta lead the expedition into the new territory.  We can’t just keep living in these swampy forests of anger and keeping tabs and holding onto debts.  
—
You must go there too.  God is picking you up today and sending you — and me.  We should to pack it up, trust God, and head out for Seventy Seven, the Commonwealth of Forgiving-ness.  
Always from the territory of sin and brokenness into the land of healing and wholeness.  

The trail has actually been maintained, by all those imperfect saints who have gone before us...in loving their enemies, in praying for those who persecute them, and forgiving their debtors.
—
This is heaven-come-down-to-earth stuff today. Do you realize that?  “On earth as it is in heaven.”  That’s what the Commonwealth of Forgiving-ness is.   It’s a territory we can inhabit here and now.  Not 7 (like a checklist) but 77 (like a country).  

Can you see it?  Especially as we start to get specific?  

As we talk about racial justice, and environmental justice, and gender justice?  How does heaven come down to earth?  Where is the embrace and the tears of joy, and God making it for good?  As we talk about Democrats and Republicans, and Fox News and MSNBC and families around the table?  And neighbors who annoy?  And leaders who betray and friends who “assume”... Where is the divine intervention?  Where is God putting you on a raft and the Holy Spirit current is carrying you to Seventy Seven?

In the Commonwealth of Forgiving-ness, you don’t have to hang onto the words your friend (or who you thought was your friend) said about you.  In Seventy Seven you can see over those trees.  You can see her as a broken child of God, hurting and in need…

The father who is an abused abuser?  Compassion and prayer blanketing the work of healing, reconciliation and peace.  Seventy Seven is no oasis.  The labor is long and daily, but not without breaks, and not without community.

And in Seventy Seven, your mistakes are completely in God’s loving hands.  You don’t have to carry them or trip over them.  You can work without that extra burden.  The pain you’ve caused others, whether intentionally or unconsciously, is lifted from your shoulders.  

And that feels so good that you invite others to come to this new land too.  And together you build sustainable housing for everyone to move to Seventy Seven.  You bake and harvest and sew and set tables, so that everyone can live in Forgiving-ness.  
—

Paul says it like this, to a community that was struggling to immigrate to Seventy Seven: “We do not live to ourselves, and we do not die to ourselves.  If we live, we live to the Lord, and if we die, we die to the Lord.  So then, whether we live or whether we die, we belong to God.”

Here’s the thing: I’m trying to paint hopefully a picture of a Land called Forgiving-ness, and invite us all there in Christian discipleship.  But what if we can’t get there?   What if we’re stuck?  What if it seems we’ll never get there?  

Friends in Christ, the welcome is always there, it is again today: the Customs gates are always wide open and anyone is free to enter Forgiving-ness at any time.  And many, many faithful ones are going!  

But even if you stay behind, you still belong to the Lord.  You already reside in God’s embrace.  AMEN.

August 23 -- A Chip Off the Old Rock (Pentecost 12A)

At the beginning of a new school year, however new that looks this unprecedented school year, at the end of August, beginning of September...it’s time to go back to the basics.  Can’t start a new school year without going back to the basics, reviewing where you came from – your multiplication flashcards, the alphabet, the writer’s handbook, the periodic table, Gray’s Anatomy, in seminary it was the dictionary of theological terms and Dietrich Bonhoeffer’s Life Together.  

Pick your level and your discipline, but you can’t start a new year without remembering where you came from.  And this week, our lectionary texts are practically synched up with the same idea:  We can’t start anew without remembering where we came from.  It’s time to go back to the basics…back to the building rocks.  Molecules and cells.  Letters and grammar.  Numbers and formulas.  Theories and cases.

And today in church:  Who we are and whose we are.  Where we have come from…and then who is this Jesus?

Our first church lesson from Isaiah calls us, especially in times of trial, to “look to the rock from which you were hewn, the quarry from which you were dug.  Look to Abraham your father and to Sarah who bore you.”

Siblings in Christ, we are called back to the basics this late date in August: we are called to remember that we all come from the same rock.  What an image:  God shaped us and molded us from a common rock, dug us up and breathed into each of us.  We trace our ancestry of faith back to Abraham and Sarah, back to Adam and Eve, back to the very hands of God.  “Look to the rock from which you were hewn.”  The mighty fortress, who is our God.

How…we…can…forget…that we came from God.  How we can run and hide, and deny and evade.  And joke.  How our memories can be short-term, tracing our ancestry of faith back only one or two generations (back to Pennsylvania or Iowa or Sweden or Puerto Rico or Sierra Leone)…but not hundreds and thousands of generations.  

But let’s get back to the basics today: It is the Living God who chiseled away at our being, and who continues to chisel away at us, who dug us out of the dirt and gave us this holy life, this sacred earth, and who continues to dig us out of the quarry: out of our despair, our guilt, our brokenness and our sorrow.  It is the living God who refashions, remolds us, puts us back together (i.e. remembers), breathes into us new life again, and now, today, sets us free.  It is the living God who set the heavens in their places and filled the seas with creatures.  [We can start sounding like psalmists when we go back and start reflecting on the basics!]

May we be psalmists this week as we begin anew, even if you’re not getting back into the virtual classroom, like our children and teachers will be very soon, may we be like little psalmists singing God’s praises and wondrous deeds with our thoughts and actions.  We have been resuscitated by the living God, brought to life again and now again!
--
And now, having been brought back, this God asks us a question.  “Who do people say that I am?” Jesus probes his followers.

Kind of a timeless question.  People are still talking about Jesus today, saying/writing who he is, or who he is not, or at least who he was.  [Albert Schweitzer] Pick your context and your camp, and off you can go with things to say about Jesus.  I think many, many people in our post-Christendom, post-modern American culture today believe that Jesus was just a prophet, like the disciples said, just a radical activist—who was executed for advocating love of the poor and the outcast, violating Jewish laws and undermining Roman authorities.  Compelling stories, but he lived long ago, and is pretty much irrelevant today, other than being yet another inspirational role model who we could never fully imitate.  [Temple of Self Realization in Malibu]  

Others think he was just a super-nice pastor who wants to be your best friend in spirit.  Not so sure about how radical his activism was, the point of Jesus, some say, is just to have a personal relationship with you.  “I just want to be with you.”  I had some friends that used to call that “Jesus is my boyfriend” theology.  
If you can replace the word “boyfriend” for “Jesus” in your songs or your prayers, and it starts to sound like a love song, you might be in danger of “Jesus is my boyfriend” theology.  “I just want you to be with me, Jesus.  I just want you all to myself, Jesus.  Don’t leave me, Jesus.”  Where, it’s only about a personal relationship.

Meanwhile I had a professor in seminary who really disliked the song, “What a Friend We Have in Jesus” because he thought it had misled generations of Christians to shortchange the Church’s confession about who Jesus is.  (Peter didn’t confess Jesus as his friend.)  Of course Jesus is a friend, and I don’t mean to undermine or make light of that relationship.  But as disciples of the One who came to earth to take on our flesh—who ventured through the pain-filled valleys of our existence, offering both life-giving healing and life-changing challenges, who suffered death, not just for his friends but for this whole world, and then rose from the dead to have the last word over death and evil—we must stand and confess a whole lot more than “he’s just my special friend” or just an inspirational figure in history!  Amen?

Friends in Christ, we join with Peter, and confess Jesus as the Messiah, the anointed one—THE ONE, sent from God, AND YET VERY GOD, God from God, Light from Light, True God from true God (as the old Nicene Creed helps give us words for what is beyond words).  

Sisters and brothers in Christ, we join with Peter, and go back to the basics today, as we too confess Jesus, the rock of our salvation, yes friend, yes radical activist for the poor and the outcast, yes Son of the Living God, yes God in the flesh before our eyes in this Word, in this Holy Communion, in these holy waters of Baptism!  In you.  Yes Jesus lived long ago, and yes Jesus lives now.  

Our confession is great, like Peter’s.  And in making this bold confession that we do, do you know what we become?  

A chip of the old block.

A chip off the old block is what we are, people of God!  A chip off the old ROCK.  A chip off the old rock that is God.  We are a chip off of God.  Broken and shared for the sake of the world, that’s what we are: fractured and forgiven, but sent out for many.  [Imperfections on the rock you’re holding? Fractured and forgiven.]

Siblings in Christ, lest we forget who we are and from whence we come:  WE ARE THE CHURCH, THE BODY OF JESUS CHRIST, and we’re about to chip off into this world!  That’s not a bad thing!

Peter’s confession becomes our confession, and so Jesus is beyond just friendly, relevant or inspirational:  Jesus is necessary!  For without him, for us who are of his flock, his disciples, his followers, we have no life…

Without him, we have no life.  Our life is in Christ.  That’s lesson number one, back to the basics.  Except this is more than a lesson, this is a gift!  And this gift is ours for free!  Nothing you can do to earn it, or precede it, for that matter.  All we can do is accept it.  All we can do is put out our hand and receive it.  God’s grace, life in Christ, poured out for you.  Let’s start with that.
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And so now what?  God’s done the work, given the gift, now we just get to be the church.  And Paul’s letter to the Romans speaks to this and gives us further instruction:  “Present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God.  Don’t be [chiseled, molded into the ways of] this world, but [continue to be chiseled by God], be transformed by the renewing of your minds, so that you may discern what is the will of God.”

Is it God’s will that children go hungry or get separated from loved ones...or is God chiseling away at us when we see that?  That refugees be rejected?  That species go extinct and air polluted, that communities suffer with illness and isolation, that wars drag on?  Is it God’s will that you continue to live in fear, burdened by anger, guilt, sorrow, or resentment?  Or is God chiseling away at us?  Molding us, fashioning us to be a chip of the old block that is God.

Friends in Christ, BACK TO THE BASICS: we are the church, and God is still chiseling.  Still working, still calling us, molding us, still tapping away at this world…

Sculpting a way for peace…the peace that passes all human understanding.  Praise be to Jesus, the Messiah.  AMEN.          

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Our hymn of the day is “Goodness is Stronger than Evil” — back to the basics, and yet, far from elementary, it’s the heart of our faith, and it carries us.  These words come most directly from the pen of Archbishop Desmond Tutu, who cuts through the static, and all the ugliness of apartheid and racism, and gets at the heart of the matter.  The melody comes from a Christian monastic-style community on an island in Scotland called Iona.  A composer in that basic and harsh setting—rocks, wind, sea, sky—set the Archbishop’s powerful words to music for us to sing.

March 1 -- First Sunday in Lent

Grace to you and peace from Jesus Christ in this season of Lent.  AMEN.

The First Sunday in Lent every year begins with the retelling of the story of Jesus being tempted by Satan in the wilderness... lest we take Lent too lightly.  This gives us a morning, maybe even a whole week, to pause again and consider “the devil.”

Does anyone even believe in Satan anymore?  In many ways, the devil’s been reduced to a Halloween costume.  I marvel each year in October when suddenly we see images, adults and even little children dressed up like the devil: Red pitchforks, and pointy tails and horns.  It’s as if Halloween is the only time the devil comes out, and it’s all just pretend and trying to be funny (or sexy) at that.  Either this, or we’ve assigned all evil in the world to certain people like the Adolf Hitlers or Osama bin Ladens.  (I remember some assigning Barrack Obama with these descriptions only a few years ago...and I’ve certainly heard Trump called the devil).  It’s as if we’re trying to compartmentalize the devil and control Satan by assigning the label “evil” to specific individuals or a group or class or even race of people.
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But the devil really comes out during Lent, when we head like Jesus “into the wilds.”  This season of Lent is a time for weeding.  And when you weed, as any gardener knows, you can’t just pick off the prickly leaves and vines that you see on the surface and call it good.  You can’t just point to a person who’s committed war crimes or violated ethical codes or humanitarian laws, destroy that person...and then go back to sleep.  We’ve got to dig deep into the soil of our own hearts, where the roots of evil have a strong hold.  We’ve got a lot of work to do in the garden, we’ve got a lot of work to do in the wilderness.  Be assured, friends in Christ, that the devil is real.

Temptation is all around.  But we’ve got a strong Word to contend against the devil.
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How interesting that these temptation stories today are not temptations to murder, or any other big obvious sins.  Neither Jesus, nor Eve and Adam were handed a sword or a get-away-car.  (Do you know what I’m sayin’?)  If that were the case, we’d probably be much more able to resist temptation.  But the tempter is far more subtle...what’s wrong with a little piece of fruit?  It’s healthy, right?
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Let me break these three temptations in Matthew’s Gospel down for us (as scholars have done for me): Jesus was tempted by wealth, security, and power.  And we are tempted by wealth, security, and power.

The first temptation is wealth -- bread.  See there’s nothing wrong with bread, there’s nothing wrong with wealth if we’re careful.  But how easily wealth/money can become the center of our worlds.  Our treasure.  Which is where Jesus said, “There will your heart be also.”  Too much bread is the sin.  Too much wealth is the sin.  Turn these stones into bread, the devil said.  But Jesus: “One does not live by wealth alone, but by every Word that comes from the mouth of God.”  Let us too cling fast to the strong Word of God this Lenten season.  Let’s keep going for more insight into that strong Word.

The second temptation is security.  Nothing wrong with security.  Who doesn’t want to have a roof over their head, clothes to keep them warm, shelter for their family and their communities.  But when we become so obsessed with security...we loose sight of what is most important.  Like a weed, those roots run deep and can take over, and always at first, subtly.

[story: Bethel Lutheran adopting “Risk Taking” as a biblically-based congregational value.]  There’s nothing in scripture that lifts up the virtues of being secure.  Abraham, Moses, Ruth, Mary, Jesus, Paul...where?  And yet it’s our first priority so much of the time.

How we are tempted to dump ourselves and our resources down to the angels of security below.  Safety nets! “Do not test God,” Jesus says.  “Do not let your lust for perfect, peaceful security and comfort come between you and God who is out there among the poor and the neglected, and calling us to leave our nets, to take risks and follow Jesus!

“Use your head,” Jesus says. “Be shrewd, but leave your nets.”  God doesn’t minister to us.  We serve God and minister our gifts — our time, talents and treasures — in compassionate ways, by sharing our bread, reaching out to the poor.  Lent is the season to pull up the weeds that grip our hearts, that hold us from the inside.  Oh, the devil is real.  [Wish I had a James Earl Jones voice ;) ]

Finally, the third temptation is power.  So subtle.  So tricky.  Nothing wrong with being in control, right?  Having people under you?  Having people do what you say.  We’ve got a number of managers and bosses in this congregation.  Someone’s gotta call the shots, right?  But again this can be abused.  Power for power’s sake.  I used to love House of Cards on Netflix (Kevin Spacey and Robin Wright) — a whole show about power for power’s sake.  Kevin Spacey turns hauntingly to the camera all the time and whispers, truly devilishly, that it’s not about money for him — it’s all about power.  And that speaks to a deep desire for us as humans.  And it’s not just overt shows of power.  How we can try to manipulate things behind the scenes, especially if access is power is not granted or assumed immediately or by the culture.

When we make ourselves god, when we put ourselves at the center, we turn away from God.  This is what the tree in the Garden of Eden was all about:  Shall we trust in God, or not?  Shall we trust ourselves?  That was the temptation.  It’s still the temptation.

Welcome to Lent, friends in Christ.  Do the hard work of introspection these 40 days.  Do the hard work of weeding in the garden of your hearts.  Work the steps, commit to the journey.  In this walk is life.  And Jesus meets us in our struggle, in our stumbling and getting back up, in our time with the devil, our time of honest reckoning.  This is a hard time — coming face-to-face with God and the powers of temptation, but it is good.  And Christ will bring us through.

Will you pray with me?
God give us the power to resist the allures, the subtleties of Satan, in this wilderness journey of Lent.  Give us the courage to trust in you.  Weed out our sinfulness, cleanse our hearts, and walk with us now.  Keep us always steadfast in your Word.  And continue to love us...as you always have.  AMEN.