February 17 -- 6th Sunday after Epiphany

Friends, today we have Jesus’ Sermon on the Plain.  Mount?  That’s Matthew.  In Luke, we are told very clearly, very “plainly” that Jesus “came down...and stood on a level place.”  Such great vertical imagery in Luke: Jesus comes down and looks up!  What’s the symbolism there?  Seems to me that the vertical movement [+], the geography matches the content...

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And he’s really talking to his disciples, in the midst of the crowd.  That’s interesting too.  He’s not trying to preach to everyone in the world here.  Everyone in the world is welcome to listen and follow Jesus.  But here in Luke, Jesus is addressing his disciples, the text says.  That is, this those who follow him.  I would say then, Jesus is addressing us, the church, those who don’t just want to adore him or watch him from the sidelines, but rather, us who follow him, who try to do what he does.    

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And he’s not condemning the rich people of the world here, in these “woe to you who are rich” — I wonder if that might be hard for us to hear sometimes, as one of the wealthiest countries and even counties in the world.  He’s not condemning the world’s rich here.  He’s talking to his disciples, I’d say, to the church, the insiders.  As theologian and professor Eduard Schweizer points out, it’s still early in his ministry:  Jesus is issuing to his disciples “a call to action”.  

“Hey, this is what it means to follow me: not that.”  Let the “riches thing” go.  This is a path of humility and suffering, he preaches to his disciples.  It’s a path of less and not more.  It’s a path of valleys and plains not mountain peaks.  [It’s Charlottesville not Monticello...]  

And in this letting go, that Jesus is always calling us into, in this path of less not more, in this journey fraught with suffering, in this way of the cross, there is ultimately joy...even now, Jesus preaches to his people…not just after we die.

Another word for blessed — makarios in the Greek — is simply “happy”.  Try reading it that way:  Happy are you who are poor, hungry, laughed at…     What?!!

When we you let go of our stuff, of our grip, there’s more room for God.  There’s joy.  Mother Theresa: “God cannot fill what’s already full.”  Have you ever given something away or given something up, that you thought would be a real pain to let go of, but you actually felt better when you went through with it?  Travel guru Rick Steves says about packing for a trip: “No ever returns from a big trip, and says, ‘Man, that was great, but you know, I wish I had packed more stuff.’”  No, going lighter, letting go, giving up, surrendering to God actually yields a surprising joy.  

Confirmation kids and picking up trash:  “Hey, this is fun!”  

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Now, let’s also be aware, there are pitfalls in this text:  This is not to say that we don’t have to worry about the poor, because according to Jesus here, they’re all happy and blessed.  I hope you know that.  And going down that road is a reflection on us more than it is about God.  This Plain Sermon isn’t a commentary on poverty and spinning it out in a pious light.   There’s nothing romantic, beautiful or happy about poverty and systemic injustice — these are monsters that we Jesus-followers are called to confront, to name and work to alleviate and eradicate .  It’s a separate sermon, and a constant theme in Luke to see that Jesus is always against injustice and on the side of people who are poor and on the outside.  

But, this Sermon on the Plain is about us, today.  

And it’s about God, through Christ, again surprising us with joy.  Jesus is inviting us today, yet again, to let go, to give up our ways and follow instead after his way.  This is a call to action. 

So, how will you do that this week, and into this still new year?  How will you do that?  :)  Not how will you recruit or point your finger at what others should and could do.  (Sometimes there’s a tendency, for me anyway, to think quickly who else needs to hear this message… :)

What does the way of humility and mercy look like for you?  Lent is coming friends.  What do you need to let go of, in order to be in and enjoy this blessed state of poverty, hunger, exclusion and defamation that Christ is describing here? [pause]

Well, think about it like this:  What is it that weighs you down?  Or what are you protecting or hanging onto the tightest?

Dad has shared with me about his time serving as pastor to a congregation in Norway over 40 years ago...and how different that was from being at the center of the Missouri Synod conflicts back in the 1970’s:  See, in St. Louis, there was so much money and so much power tied up there at the center of the conflict.  Who was going to get whole buildings, if/when the church broke apart?  Where would all the investments go?  Who would benefit and who would be made to suffer for their actions?  Everyone was clinging on so tightly, you see?  Grasping for survival, everyone was staking their territory. Dad talks about roots: Roots can be a beautiful image, but they can also render us un-move-able, stubborn—great, oak stakes in the ground, where joy can start to drain away, because the whole focus becomes about protecting the institution, that great immovable oak.  It was a bitter time back then, in the church, and especially, in his experience, in St. Louis.

But in Norway, where I was born, it was a community of ex-patriots, a Americans far from home, just trying to be a faithful community of Christ.  Strangers in a strange land: Texans in the Arctic Circle, to be specific.  There were no stakes, no roots, no territories to protect.  There was no jockeying for power and position.  They were a mix of denominations: Presbyterians, Methodists, Lutherans.  In a way, they were poor and hungry, laughed at by their friends and family.  See?  And with that poverty came this freedom.  They were free to try different things, to learn from each other’s traditions, from the cultures around them, to let go and to trust, to get back to the basics of the Christian faith.  Dad talks about those years fondly, as you can tell…That icy Norwegian air, was fresh air and joyful.

I guess that’s an example of the church (of all things) becoming what we cling too in a desperate way, weighing us down.  What would it look like  for you to “let go”?  As opposed to that posture of gripping in a protective, frightened, even angry way...

That’s the symbol, btw, during Offering when the acolyte lifts up the plate.  And puts it on the altar.  Here we are God!  All of what we have is yours!  We give you thanks and praise you!  Take us now—in all our brokenness and blessing—and use us... 

And God does...and God calls us bless-ed.

Do you hear Christ’s call to action here, friends?  Can you sense the graciousness?  Not from a lofty place, but actually from a seated position...Jesus looks up at them.  On the plain.  

Can you sense the joy, the fuller life that is being offered to the insiders, that is his disciples, that his church, that is you and me?  This is what it looks like to follow!  

And it’s nothing for the fainthearted or the immobile oaks.  “Let go, put down your nets, those things you used to hang on to, and join me,” Christ beckons, “down this way of mercy and humility...and in this way you will find joy!”  

Friends, this is what it looks like to be planted instead by the water, as the prophet Jeremiah poetically describes.  Supple, moving.  The church always in procession, not static.  

My favorite chapter in Taoist literature: 

We are born gentle and weak.

At death we are stiff and unyielding.

Green plants are tender and filled with sap.

At their death they are withered and dry.

Thus whoever is stiff and inflexible is a disciple of death.

Whoever is soft and yielding is a disciple of life.

The stiff and unyielding will snap in the wind.

The soft and weak will bend and prevail. (Chapter 76)

Friends in Christ, God comes down to offer us life.  

It’s ours for the receiving, it’s ours to open our hands and en-joy.  It’s ours for free...and for freedom, this day and always, into eternity.  Thanks be to God.  AMEN.  

February 10 -- 5th Sunday after Epiphany

Sisters and brothers in Christ, 

Look at what God can do when we are tired!

What strikes me about this fantastic lesson of Jesus calling his disciples is that he does it in the morning after a sleepless, fruitless, hopeless night!  

Peter was ready to pack up and go home -- no energy, no fish, no hope -- and that’s precisely when Christ shows up, sends him back out, and calls him into new mission fields.

Look at what God can do when we are tired!

At the end of our rope, without direction or energy -- hopeless, fruitless, even sleepless.  That’s precisely when Christ shows up, sends us back out and into new mission.

This is our God.

So what task is God calling you into now?  Us here at BLC?  No matter your age.  No matter your status, no matter how long you’ve been “at this” already.  Now is when Christ appears in your midst and says, “Well, try this: try something new, go deeper” and “Come, follow me”.

Jesus meets us in our grayness, when the clouds are heavy, and the days and the years (and our faces) are long, just as we’re about throw in the towel, give up, sell out, and isolate ourselves from others.  Just as we’re really getting really frustrated with each other or the world around us.  Just as we’re about to close the door and blow out the candle, Jesus says, “Hey, go back out there, go deeper.”

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This has always been seen as a text about vocation.  Martin Luther taught that we all have a vocation.  And theologian Frederick Buechner said that vocation is a term for that intersection...“where our deep gladness meets the world's deep need.” x2  Go deeper, Jesus says.

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But sometimes our great passions are squelched:  The saddest stories, I think, are the stories of loved ones in my life, who never followed their deep gladness (perhaps their vocations) because someone told them it was stupid, or a waste of time, or too daunting a task for them to ever realize such a goal or a calling.  Had a friend in college who wanted to study marine biology, but her parents wanted her to be practical and study business.  Or another family member who always wanted to be a nurse and take care of sick children, but was even mocked by her husband, saying that her “dream” was too expensive, and she’d never be able to pass the classes.  Passions, deep gladness, even callings: squelched.

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Friends, Christ finds us, just as he found Peter, in that moment of “squelch”.  Sometimes, it’s our own “shadow voices”, the negative self-talk that crushes us.  Often we squelch ourselves. Peter, I’m sure, was feeling pretty squelched/empty (wonder what he was saying to himself in those wee morning hours), when Christ showed up, told him to try something different, and filled his nets.  Christ is our hope.  Jesus sends us and calls us to try again...even to try something new.

“Try going deeper,” Jesus says.  When we go deeper, we discover even more...and find ourselves on a path that we never dreamed. 

Look at what God can do when we are tired!    

See, and here’s what I both love and hate about this text: 

It’s not just about “following our dreams” -- those might be well and good, or they might be misguided.  No, vocation is about God’s voice.  The word vocation literally means “calling” (from Latin vocare).  So there’s got to be a call-er here.  Someone directing us, nudging us, beckoning us.  “Vocation-ing” us...

So who’s doing the calling?  Our own hearts?  Our parents?  Our legislators and recruiters?  Our friends?  Sometimes God works through these and other people or experiences.   

But ultimately, is is Christ Jesus who calls us out.  And he’s not just saying, “Hey, whatever you want…what ever you need...just follow your passion...” 

Rather, just like in our passage for today, Jesus is asking us to look at something new, to stir -- from our drowsiness, fatigue and even despair -- to tasks and adventures we never even imagined.

It’s not about “following our dreams”; it’s about following God’s dream.  Going deeper.  Discovering and living into God’s dream.  We are called into that profound, challenging, joy-filled -- and at the same time life-threatening -- call to follow Jesus.  We are called into that call.

Catching fish was a little dangerous...catching people?  That is, preaching the Gospel...with our words and more importantly our actions?  Proclaiming release to those who are locked up in all kinds of ways?  Recovery of sight to those who can’t see clearly?  Forgiveness to those who deem themselves unforgivable?…

remember all those things that Jesus laid out in his “Inaugural Address” two Sundays ago?   

Catching fish is a little dangerous, catching people?:  you might wind up face-to-face with the powers, just like John the Baptist…or Jesus himself.  Going deeper is not without risk.  

So who’s in?!  Like Jerry Maguire: “Who’s coming with me?” Jesus “vocations” us.  What strange waters, or strange lands, is Christ calling you into this new week?  This new season?  This new year?

(Peter executed in Rome.  South gate-Appian Way-Quo Vadis...He knew how dangerous it was and yet he went anyway.)

This may be where Christ calls you, even this day! -- into a deeper life, a fuller love, a complete vocation, God’s dream...not just yours.  And in that is the greatest joy!  (Can you imagine if Peter never left his nets?  What he would have missed?)

This is a good day, it is a good week, it is a hopeful moment — even in the midst of our fatigue and even aguish — for, friends, Christ himself stands on the shore of our lives and bids us come and follow, let go, and go even deeper.  

Today is a good day for Christ Jesus stays with us, fills our nets...and loves us into a new and even more expansive vocation.  

Friends, Jesus loves us into God’s dream!  AMEN.  

February 2 -- 4th Sunday after Epiphany

Let us pray…

So they want to throw Jesus off the cliff!  What’s that about?
I think at first glance/first read, these hometown Nazarenes seem like foaming-at-the-mouth lunatics.  They need to calm down, it may seem to us.  They need to pay attention to what Jesus was saying.  Surely we could and would never want to do the same.  But let’s dig a little deeper:

One of the most striking things about this text is the drastic transformation the crowd goes through in only a matter of verses.  In verse 22, it says “all spoke well of him and were amazed at the gracious words that came from his mouth.” But 7 verses later, they “got up, drove him out of town…so that they might hurl him off a cliff.”  (not just banish him, but already ready to kill him — obviously a foreshadowing of what comes later and the drastic change of the crowd in Jerusalem on Palm Sunday...from ‘Hosannas’ to ‘Crucify him!’)

At first glance, these hometown Nazarenes seem like foaming-at-the-mouth lunatics. But we dig deeper:

Jesus continues both to root himself and to show his mastery of the Hebrew Scriptures.  Last week, remember, he unrolled the scroll and read from the prophet Isaiah.  Now just a few verses later he cites events from the time of Elijah and Elisha.  And this is where things start to get dicey.

Jesus has just proclaimed that today good news goes to the poor, release to the captives, sight to the blind, liberty to the oppressed and the wiping out of debts.  Sounds pretty good, right?  Sounds really pretty and idealistic and heavenly and out of this world, right?  That’s a nice message to reflect on, to dream about.
But now Jesus starts to “flesh it out.”  That’s what Jesus is all about: fleshing it out.  And this is where things start to get dicey.

“The truth is,” Jesus says, “when there was a famine, there were many widows, but Elijah was sent to none of them but a widow at Zarephath in Sidon.”  Do you know what the widow at Zarephath in Sidon represents?  She is no doubt nameless.  She represents the absolute most ignored, invisible, tiniest, powerless, voiceless, nameless member of God’s entire creation — deemed by all others as totally worthless and meaningless.  She’s not a threat.  She’s nothing to the world.

But she is the first and only one that God reaches for.

And if that’s not upsetting enough, Jesus fires it up even more, inciting the crowd by citing Elisha and Naaman the Syrian leper.  Do you know what Naaman the Syrian leper represents?  Far more invasive than a nameless, invisible widow.  A Syrian leper represents the most hated, most ugly, most despicable, most dangerous with his disease.  He is an absolute threat—sickest of the sick, the meanest of the mean, ugliest of the ugly, the most dangerous of the dangerous, the“foreignest” of the foreigners.  He is the enemy of the world, your enemy and my enemy, our worst nightmare.  As far from God as we can imagine and the last one we’d ever want to be around!

But he is the first and only one that God cures.

So is this crowd really that crazy?  This is upsetting news, this is news that turns the comfortable hometown of Fairfax, I mean Nazareth, on its head.  And they want nothing to do with being turned on their head — how dare he! — so...
they try to turn Jesus on his head—they discredit him (“Isn’t this just Joseph’s kid?”) and then they try to kill him.

But here’s the thing:  Jesus passes through them and goes on his way.  We don’t know exactly what that means, except that he goes on despite all their anxiety and rage.  He longs to have them on board, but he goes on with or without their participation—and ultimately that’s the really Good News for us.  It means that we have no say and no power in who and how and when God’s love touches and heals the edges of this world.  God’s embrace is so cosmic, it even stretches to the widow-est of the widows and the leper-est of the lepers.

If you really want to flesh this text out this week...imagine who for you is the widow-est of the widows and the leper-est of the lepers.  Who for you is so invisible you can hardly even think of right now:  The 10-yr orphan in Indonesia—don’t ask me what his name is—who lost his parents in a tsunami in 2004, and now all the aid and media attention has dried up, and he’s trying to raise himself.  Or what about beyond even our own species: what about the yellow spotted tree frog which is critically endangered?  Or the hundreds of thousand of other voiceless, nameless (to us) plant and animal species that are not threatening us, but are certainly being threatened by extinction.  This Gospel text tells us that these are where God goes, where God sends the prophets: to the very edges.

But none of those really threaten us at the moment.

If you really want to flesh this text out, then imagine who the real lepers are for you.  Who do you despise?  Who disgusts you?  Who makes you want to run in the other direction?  Who would you be content to live the rest of your days and never have to deal with ever again?  Could be a sick person, could be a dangerous person, could be someone who’s way of life absolutely disgusts you, could be someone who in fact makes a threat upon your security or the security of your family.  Could be a Democrat, could be a Republican, could be a Muslim, could be a Christian, could be gay, could be straight, could be a member of your family member, could be someone who has wronged you in the past, could be a pastor or a member of the church, or a colleague at work.  That’s who Naaman the Syrian leper stands for, sisters and brothers in Christ.  And this text tells us that this leper is who God comforts and cleanses first.  

Now we know why they want to kill Jesus: because for him, “faith, hope & love abide...and the greatest of these is love.”

I don’t care who you are: This is really tough stuff — because if we’re willing to do the work, we’ve all got a widow and a leper who are very real to us.  We’ve all got anxieties and anger like that crowd long ago...

...And we’ve also got a God moving through us, mysteriously.

A Christ who with or with out our consent so loves this world and the farthest reaches of it.  Jesus has made his mission clear; and Jesus has made his invitation to us into that mission clear.  He passes through here now.  Today!  Help us, God, not to want to throw him off the cliff so that we can keep on our way.  Help us, God, to get on board with him.  The Gospel train is leaving the station!  Scripture has been fleshed out in our hearing and will be fleshed out in our tasting.

The living Christ in and through our midst longs to have us on board, but goes on with or without our participation.  And ultimately, that’s the best news of all.  AMEN.

January 27 -- 3rd Sunday after Epiphany

If I made you close your eyes and read you passages from all 4 Gospels (the first 4 books of the New Testament)—Matthew, Mark, Luke & John—you would almost always be able to pick out which book was Luke because it would mention so frequently the Spirit.  (This week’s Gospel text starts out “Jesus, filled with the power of the Spirit, returns to Galilee…”  Jesus has been in the wilderness, he’s coming home after the Spirit drove him, tempted for 40 days by Satan.)    

The Holy Spirit figures into Luke’s Gospel more than any other Gospel, and twice as much as Matthew and John (larger books).  (Come read Luke with us on Saturday!)  You see, the different Gospels have different agendas, and one of Luke’s main agendas is to proclaim the work of the Spirit, in Christ’s life, and then that same author, Luke, goes on to write the book of Acts, where the Spirit figures into our lives too, not just Christ’s, but the life of the church (the Spirit is Christ’s gift to the church) — many words are spoken and deeds are done by everyday Christians, because they are “filled with the power of the Spirit”.  (Martin Luther King, Jr. was just an average man, actually.  But filled with the power of the Spirit, he said and did great things.)  How does the Holy Spirit figure into your life and into your being?  Specifically, how does the Spirit “fill” you?

Imagine a man rowing a little boat wildly at sea: a metaphor for our lives (think of all we do, rowing, rowing, rowing, even while we’re exhausted).  And now envision that man putting up a sail, and letting the wind fill that sail, putting his oars back in the boat, off he skips across the water…[p] Spirit’s driving.

Heather and I have a friend from college, SH, who’s a pilot...and he also loves to sail and surf.  And one time he was describing to me in beautiful detail that moment that he never gets tired of when he flies: when the wind lifts the plane off the ground at take-off.  If you’ve ever flown, you’ve probably felt that too…[that moment], when you no longer belong to the ground...and you’re taken by the wind.  Shin pointed out that it’s the same kind of moment in sailing and surfing too…

The word spirit in Greek and in Hebrew is the same word for wind and breath: pneuma in Greek / ruach (f.) in Hebrew.

The Holy Spirit fills us like wind in our sails and allows us to move in ways and into places we never could have...by our own rowing.  

So how does that “flesh out” for you?  [p]

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Well, in Jesus’ case, filled with the Holy Spirit, he faces temptation in the wilderness (first 13 verses of Chapter 4), and then he faces, perhaps even more impressive...his hometown crowd.  For a prophet, it’s hard to return home and get any kind of serious audience.  Everybody just sees you as this innocuous kid.  Has anyone ever taken the wind out of your sails when they told everyone that they knew you when you were a teenager?  That’s what the hometown crowd can do.  There’s great power in that.  You can have power over a person when you say, “I knew him/her/you when…”  

Jesus is only about 30 years old here (dismissive of young Congresswoman Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez...) But he’s got something to say, in spite of the power that his hometown crowd might have over him.  And he says it.  Come back next week (for Part 2 of Jesus’ Homecoming) to hear how they respond, but here’s what he says...here’s Jesus’ Inaugural Speech agenda:

He lays out our priorities for the new term.  And it’s aggressive.  These are not gentle suggestions, or sweet promises for after we die!

This is what Jesus comes to do in the world now, with real people, in real time.  I tend to want to spiritualize this list, but I’m convinced that Jesus in the Gospel of Luke would chastise me heartily for sugar-coating and making excuses.  Here’s Christ’s agenda!  He declares war on my ease and comfort, on my unwillingness to change and take risks.  If the Gospel of John’s all grace overflowing like gallons of wine, then the Gospel of Luke is Spirit-fire.  

Here’s God’s holy-righteous, fiery, Spirit-borne agenda:  To bring good news to the poor.  (What would that be?  What would good news to the poor mean, someone without a paycheck and no back-up?)  To proclaim release to the captives.  (I’ve known people who worked as officers in prison system: I wonder how they hear that?  Know anyone who’s locked up?)  Recovery of sight to the blind (sounds the least controversial, the most innocuous, for us...until Christ tells me that I’m the one who’s blind, and when my sight recovers, by the power of the Holy Spirit, there are people and situations that I will suddenly see that need healing). To let the oppressed go free (in case you didn’t get it the first time) and to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor!

This is an offensively economic reference.  The Year of the Lord’s Favor comes from Leviticus, and it’s the idea that every seven years is to be a Year of Jubilee, where every person and every nation is to forgive the debts owed to them.  The Lord’s prayer, which comes right out of the Gospels, actually says, “forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors.”  The Lord’s prayer is inherently economic...and therefore problematic.  Because incurring and collecting debt is the way our system works.  Yet Christ is inaugurating something radically different!  

And all this is all because he is filled with the Holy Spirit.     

Friends in Christ, that same Spirit fills you this day!  [p] 

It lifts you and me to say, do and imagine things that we never thought possible.  It’s that moment where we no longer belong to the ground.  We are taken by the Spirit, by the wind, and we are lifted.  There’s a moment as the spirit-filled body of Christ, where we no longer speak our own minds, but rather speak the mind of Christ!  We’re taken by the Spirit, you see.

My own mind usually suggests caution and retribution...but we are of one mind in Christ, so loving our enemy is Spirit-borne.  That’s not me rowing wildly alone.  I can’t love my enemy by myself, but with the community and the Spirit, I sail.  

My own mind might suggest shrewd financial dealings that always benefit me and the people closest to me...but we are of one mind in Christ, so we share our wealth freely and joyfully.  That’s not me panting breathlessly on the sea, wondering how I’m going to make it.  I can’t give generously by myself, but with the community and the Spirit, I sail.

My own mind might suggest isolation, cut-off, from the messiness of the city, of civilization, of community that are naturally not perfect, to say the least.  It’s cleaner to just go it alone.  “Let me just paddle here!  And you paddle over there!”  [p] We can’t live faithfully together, on our own accord.  We can’t do church on our own accord.  We’ll tear each other down, break up.  But with the Holy Spirit, we sail.  We lift upwards, we trust, we hold each other, and we soar.  

With the Spirit, we hear the Gospel, and our sight is restored.  

With the Spirit, friends in Christ, we are set free, even if that makes us uncomfortable!  We are set free.

Praise the one who frees us, this day and every day.  Praise the one who brings light to a weary world.  That light is ours, and it’s ours to share!  AMEN.          

January 20 -- 2nd Sunday after Ephiphany

Our scripture reading today starts by saying “On the third day” — “On the third day there was a wedding in Cana.”  Let’s think about Third Day Events here.  I suppose John’s suggesting that the first two days occurred in Chapter 1 because we’re just starting Chapter 2.  But with John, there’s always more to it:  The Third Day is a connection here at the beginning of this book to the resurrection that takes place at the end of this book.  The Third Day is when life conquers death.

And we hear that this is the first of Jesus’ signs.  There are 7 signs of Jesus in John’s Gospel.  This is the first.  It’s like those puzzles that reveal a little bit at a time, or a spotlight that shines on just a little part of a greater whole.  Not until all the pieces, all the lights are shined will Jesus be fully revealed.  But this is the first!  And man, this one is exciting!  So god that we can call it a Third Day Event, a life-conquering-death event.

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Unexpected extravagance is almost unacceptable for us.

Have you ever been lavished with goodness and you really have a hard time accepting it?  This is a tough text for us Lutherans...who don’t always act like Lutherans!  I mean, if we’re honest, we can be reluctant if not totally rejecting of the extravagant grace and abundance that is ours.  We tend more to just point to our theology, not dive into it.  “No, no, no,” we say humbly (and even selfless-ly, “You go ahead,” we think to ourselves, “make sure someone else gets the extravagance, the grace.  Not me.”  (I just heard someone say that this week, when offered a gracious gift.)  Sometimes being in a position of sacrificing, even suffering, is preferable to having extravagance heaped upon you.  If you’re resonating with this kind of struggle, this is the text for you!    

It’s kind of like struggling to let someone else pay for the whole meal at a restaurant, even if paying yourself could be a hardship.  I suspect a lot of this is going on right now with kindnesses being extended to government employees affected deeply by the shutdown.  

(Now, not everyone struggles with letting others pay.  Some are happy to let others pay for their food and drink...and this text is for you too...if that describes you).  

But how about you who always cover themselves — and take care of others too — so graciously and extravagantly?  Can you accept another covering you?   Grace, symbolized by wine here in this text, comes flowing in such ridiculous amounts of abundance here!

(150 gallons!  I personally translate wine images into beer: that’s 10 giant kegs!  1 keg at a wedding is too much! 10??!!!  It’s definitely not needed!) 

But here it is: Wine overflowing — this is our first glimpse of Jesus’ glory in John.  One scholar talked about this miracle as thing of “dissonance”*.  It’s not only a surprise, it’s actually a little disturbing.  There shouldn’t be that much wine, right?  That’s scandalous (which literally means a “stumbling block”)!  Exactly.  Paul says Christ is a stumbling block.  Some simply can’t get past certain things about grace to fully accept this God-with-us, this Word that becomes flesh and dwells among us!  It’s hard to hear, it’s dissonant, this much goodness.  NO!  “You’ve got to earn it, earn it,” our little Western, Protestant-work-ethic brains are crying out.  [pause] But there is this part of our hearts, maybe even our whole bodies, that is whispering (maybe shamefully), “Would be fun though…”

You see, John’s Gospel again and again challenges the mind, threatens and seeks to annihilate the shameful voices in our heads, the “you’ve gotta earn it”, [slowly] and instead draws us into extravagance!  That’s what grace really is.  It’s totally undeserved and overflowing, Third Day stuff.  We have a hard time with that.

—

OK, the six 20-30 gallon jars?  Let’s talk about that:  Everything is symbolic in John.  Six jars represent the old religion.  The old way of doing things, even the old way of celebrating.  They’re water jars for religious purification! Did you get that?  That’s like taking our holy things here in order to have a party?  

Can you imagine grabbing [this chalice] for a wedding party you’re going to on Saturday night?

Jesus is consecrating the new by using the old.  He’s taking the holy and using it for the everyday, and in that way making the everyday holy.  

For Jesus in John, everything becomes holy!  Everything becomes “a sacrament”!  Jesus is blowing up religious tradition, and by that I don’t mean destroying it: I mean more literally blowing up [wider and wider, bigger and bigger] — YES, this is holy, but so is this and this and this and this!

(“We’re already in the presence of God. What’s absent is awareness.” Fr. Richard Rohr)

Walking your dog and picking up after her in the rain is sacramental.  Scrubbing the gunk off of the dinner plates as you listen to a music or talk with your high schooler is sacramental.   Going to the dentist and sharing your plans for the MLK holiday is sacramental.  Having a drink with a friend,  getting a massage, laughing together in a boardroom meeting, reading a bedtime story to a toddler, watching a game, flying to Atlanta, shopping for fruits and vegetables...you see?  It just goes on and on!  Everything is holy now!  And this doesn’t diminish the church sanctuary, it opens it up and makes it relevant and enfleshed!   Grace overflowing, pouring out 150 ridiculous gallons, more and more!

When you think about when you’ve most felt God’s presence in your life, which we have to ask ourselves often when studying the Gospel of John.  Don’t just think about the toughest of times — when you/your loved one was sick or death was at hand, but somehow you knew God’s deep, abiding, very real presence.  Don’t just think about the dark times when God was truly there for you.  Those are definitely true moments of God’s presence…

But today reminds us that God is with us in the absolute overflowing grace-filled, joy-filled, love-filled, laughter-filled, beer-and-wine-filled, food-filled, family-and-friends-filled, glorious-nature-filled highlights ... the very best that this life and this world has to offer, too.  Third Day Events!

I think of my brother and sister-in-law's wedding in Ireland in 2009.  That was a Third Day Event for me.  Family and friends — new and old —  gathered together in an area that seemed like the edge of the world.  For days (in the rain — didn’t matter) we too celebrated a wedding, toured around, sat by the fire, laughed and laughed, ate and drank, and danced and sang, and told stories and celebrated life and love, and joy and peace.

And when you experience those things, you want to share them with others.  You want others to have Third Day Events too, you long for everyone to be so blessed...you just can’t help yourself from feeling that way...That’s the power of a Third Day Event…

Let me conclude by calling our attention to Jesus’ mother:  We should follow her lead and approach Jesus pleading, “They have no wine.” In other words, we should come to Jesus and tell him what to do too: We pray for other people.  We don’t just hoard all this abundant, overflowing grace for ourselves.  We can’t!  We don’t just revel in Jesus’ presence and then go home, forgetting what we’ve experienced at the party.  That’s not a Third Day Event.  No, we accept this absolute wonder and joy, we swim in it -- laugh and eat and sing and drink and dance.  We party with Jesus, and we also, even during the party, like his mother, plead with Jesus for the sake of others: “They have no wine.”  Let’s try that now: let us pray...

“Loving God, give to others the grace that we have received so abundantly now.  Blow open the old ways that come up empty.  And fill us and this whole world with newness, with joy and mercy and unity and peace.  In Jesus’ name we pray.  AMEN.”

* New Interpreters Bible, “John”, Gail O’Day

January 13 -- Baptism of our Lord Sunday

John the Baptist was a truth-teller.

Known any truth-tellers in your life?  I think they tend to be kind of weirdos.  Truth-tellers.  “Awkward” is a truth-teller’s middle name.  Their words sear, but we try to ignore it, or laugh it aside.  Truth-tellers:  Nothin’ to lose, no one to impress.  They often seem a little unhinged.

Now, I don’t mean someone who is cruel with their words...and their cruel words somehow settle into your mind as truth.  I think of all the bullies that say mean stuff that their victims start to believe is true -- that’s not a truth-teller.  That’s a liar, in fact.  

I mean a real truth-teller.  Someone who truly says it like it is.  Sometimes very eloquently.  But often not from a position you’d expect.  Those are always the great movie characters, right?  The trash-man in the movie, who always speaks the true and wise word.  The seemingly crazy, old bag lady.  The blind beggar. The bartender. The child...truth-teller characters.

And it’s often tempting to want to prop up that truth-teller and have them (not you) just give a piece of their mind (i.e. your mind) to the big, mean opponent, or at least one who holds power over you.  Propping them up, puffing them up...

Puffing up a crazy, mouthy, articulate classmate to go after a professor. Tell him! Tell him!  (I’ve done it & had it done to me)

Puffing up a brother or sister to go after a parent.  Tell him!  Tell him!

Provoking a council member, puffing them up to go after the pastor.  Tell him!  Tell him!  Give ‘em a piece of our mind!  

Puffing a legislator up to go after a president.  Tell him!  

Then if the results go bad, if the response is negative, even hostile, well, it’s not your hide.  No one even needs to know you put ‘em up to it…

I guess what I’m saying is that we can take advantage of crazy truth-tellers.  They’re “out there” anyway, so the temptation is: “Well, may as well get them to work for us...or at least entertain us.”

You kind of get the sense that the people in Luke’s gospel, surrounded by the big, mean Pharisees, the Herodians and the Roman empire -- bullies -- opponents, higher-ups, to be sure, more powerful than they, were puffing John up to go after them.  Tell ‘em, John!  Go tell ‘em!

--

But all John does is tell the truth.  He doesn’t incite violence, he tells the truth:  “What should we do?”  Share.  Give a jacket away if you have two.  Give food to anyone who is hungry.  Nothin’ to lose, no one to impress.  And John calls us to share.  He doesn’t fall for the puffing up games people play.  

That’s it, John!!?  You’re not going to rip them a new one!!?  You’re not going to verbally lambast them?  You’re not going to declare war on them?    

“No,” says John, “just share; be kind to one another.  Everyone could use a little more of that.  Be gentle.  Do the right thing.  Be honest and upright in your business dealings.  Don’t extort money from people.  Don’t rip them off.  Don’t cheat...and be happy with what you have…

“And one more thing: [this gets us to our text here] This one Jesus, is it.  I’m going to engrave that into your consciousness by baptizing him.  

[slowly] This one Jesus is the embodiment of truth -- of what I’m challenging you to do: This one Jesus is the embodiment of sharing, of not cheating the poor, of welcoming the outcast and feeding the hungry.  This one Jesus, who I baptize is the embodiment of truth.”  John is a truth-teller and a truth-baptizer.  He baptizes the truth.  The truth is not cruel; the truth is love.

And you know you’re on the right track to truth, when the powers try to shut you up, when you are saying things that sear in their simplicity.  Truth-telling, truth-baptizing got John thrown into prison.  He told the truth about Jesus, and he told the truth about Herod’s adulterous wrong-doing with his brother’s wife.  Everyone else turned a blind eye.  

Ever been in situation where everyone is turning a blind eye, and it takes the innocence of a child or an outsider or a newcomer to say, hey, this is wrong!   (Clergy group: “There’s a lot of ego and competitiveness in this circle.”)

John the Baptist -- John the pointer (if I ever had a pointer dog, I’d want to call him either John or Luther) -- John the baptist simply points to Christ.  The true WWJD prophet.  Don’t extort, cheat, lie, hog the best for yourself.  Truth-teller.  Not mean, not cruel.  Just honest and clear-headed, even if a little “out there”.  Although interestingly, did you notice: doesn’t say anything here in Luke’s gospel about John eating locusts and wild honey, wearing camel’s hair.  Maybe John was a little more main-stream, according to Luke.  

And friends in Christ, John was certainly in the main stream, the river’s main flow, to be sure, when it came time to baptize.  John preached repentance and new life, through baptism.  A changing of ways, the forgiveness of sins.  Through this water!  

You know, ancient teaching has us using cold water for baptism?  Luther missed this.  He warmed the water up for babies.  But baptismal water — especially practiced among our Eastern Orthodox brothers and sisters — is supposed to be cold.  Stinging.  Because this Christian life is not an easy one.

Shane Claiborne: “My life was great...before I met Jesus (gave everything away, loved my enemies, prayed for bullies…)!”

The truth hurts.  It stings.  These cold waters of baptism make us jump a bit, cringe a bit.  John the Baptist’s long, pointy finger pokes at us and guides us to follow after this one Jesus.  The truth is eerie.  

This one Jesus -- the embodiment of all truth — is already out there sharing.  Already out there in the snow — on January 13, 2019 — Christ is already out there sharing warmth with all who are cold, nourishment with all who are hungry.  This one Jesus — to whom John points and baptizes — this one Jesus — upon which a voice from heaven comes booming down: “this is my Son the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased” -- this one  Jesus is the embodiment of John’s truth-telling.

In an age where truth seems to be up for grabs (in a post-truth era), sisters and brothers in Christ, John calls us back, and sends us after Christ.  And in an age where truth seems to be a distant dream, our God — incarnate in Jesus the Christ, who is “already out there” always in and with the world, moving down the path — stops, turns to us, loves us, and beacons us to come and follow, to come and join this way of truth.  This love, this forgiveness, this walk of mercy and grace, this path of love is ours today and always.  For you too, a voice from heaven says, are God’s beloved child!  

Thanks be to God!  AMEN.

January 6 -- Epiphany Sunday

Highly quoted author, speaker and consultant in Lutheran circles, Peter Steinke (writes a great book called Congregational Leadership in Anxious Times), has noted the root of the word “disaster”.  Do you know what that word literally means?

It comes from the negative Latin “dis” (connoting not being able to do something, or a lack of something) and “aster” (star).  So literally a disaster is when you have no star to follow.  Fascinating, isn’t it?!  

So ancient sailors, loosing their way at sea in the fog and the clouds — no star to follow.  That’s a literal dis-aster.

Contrast that to this day’s text of the journey of the Magi. (btw, the text doesn’t say how many magi there were, just that there were 3 gifts, so artists have always assumed that 3 wise men went with those 3 gifts, but there could have been a hundred star-following wise women and men and their children all hiking through the sands from the East…) The point is, they had a star to follow, and they did.

Disaster is when we have no star to follow.  Problem is, there are lots of stars in the sky. [pause]

Which star are you (at least) tempted to follow this new year?  Is it the star of fame and glory?  The rock star?  The pop star?  The sports stars or military stars?  The political stars?  The gold stars of school and accomplishments?  Perhaps the shooting stars…like the housing/stock markets?  

It’s hard to find the star of Bethlehem amid all the competing stars.  

But here’s a clue:  STOP LOOKING UP.  [pause] For Christ always comes to us from underneath—from where you’d least expect—from the manger, from the shepherds, from the poor, from earthly stuff like wheat, grapes, and water.  From broken and flawed people, hurting congregations, tragic situations, from simple every-day moments amid hectic schedules and frightening seasons.  The magi, the text says, bowed down, to pay him homage.  Bow down, look around on the floor of our world, to find the Christ child.  Look to Bethlehem, that is, the most out-of-the-way, insignificant, underneath, little town.  And that’s where the star, the light of Christ, stops and stays.

This is such a wonderful story.  Because it has cosmic implications.  This love and presence of Christ, that comes from below, has the ability to move the stars!  To call people from all corners of the earth to gather, to praise, and then to go home by a different road: changed.

It means God’s love for you, calls you, as far off in a distant land as you might be—as downtrodden, or hopeless or sick or afraid as you might be.  God’s light, albeit hard to see at times, God’s star rises in the east—the bright morning star—symbolic of hope and a new day—Christ Jesus’ star rises in the east and lights your way this new year of 2019, this new year of life that God has given us!  (I see this as a year of healing here at BLC!)

The same star that world leaders saw, “Three Kings” as the songs and art pieces go, world leaders, the wealthy and powerful and wise—the same star that guided them, that came to them, and lit their path, comes to you and guides you…even today.  That’s how dear you are to God.  Not forgotten in some far-off land, but forgiven...and guided.  

What a gift that Bethlehem star, that eastern star in the sky is for us!  God’s love for you moves stars!  

And so in response — not because we have to — but because we can’t help it: in response, we bring our gifts — our gold, frankincense, and myrrh.  (What is that for you?  What are our treasures?)  And then, looking down, bowing down, kneeling down, we pay him homage.  How can we do that with our lives?  What can we bring?  How can we serve and give and trust evermore in this Christ child?

For we need not dwell in dis-aster.  For we have a star to follow!  A star of love, a star of life, a star of hope, a star of healing, and a star of forgiveness.  

Sisters and brothers in Christ, we too have been changed, by this star.  So changed, so transformed that we are about to pray for people beyond just those we like and love.  Prayers of intercession: have you noticed our ‘rubrics’ for the prayers of the people (p.14): “Having received the Word of God’s relentless grace and faithfulness, we can’t help but turn outward and pray for others.  The love of Christ compels us.”) Our prayers — and not just our prayers: our words and actions, our ministries here at BLC — aren’t just focused inward, it’s not just about us and “our” building and “our” people and our success and our failures, right?!  No, we can’t help — having received this relentless grace — we can’t help but reach outward to people and situations far from our own, even if those are people and situations right here in our neighborhood.  We can’t but turn outward to people from far-away lands (like the magi in the story).  

We even pray for our enemies.  For the “Herods” of our government and our world.  [pause] That’s how transformative this Christ light is!  

We have been changed, by this star.  So changed, so transformed that we have hope, in the midst of winter darkness.  We have a way, and that way is Christ, and that way is Love, and that way reaches beyond borders and oceans.  

Even when the world comes crashing down around us, God’s people, looking down, not gazing up, looking down at this earth, God’s people find the hurting, the oppressed, the sick and the lost, and there with them is Christ.  “A light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.”  That’s how changed we are!  [Rome, Isola Tiberina, Hospital Island]

We have been changed, by this star!  So changed that we go home now by another road.  So changed that we “gonna lay down our sword and shield, down by the riverside” as the old spiritual goes.  We’re gonna “hammer our tanks and our guns into stethoscopes and gardening tools”...to modernize Isaiah’s vision of hope.  We are so changed that now we practice peace (not just pray for it, we practice it).  We’re not going back to Herod now, the road of violence is not our road.  We’re going home by a different way.  

For God has given us a star.  We are free of dis-aster, sisters and brothers in Christ, for we have a star.  And in that star is the hope, and the salvation, of this whole universe.  And in that star is your freedom and everlasting life.  For in this star is peace.  TBTG.  AMEN.