March 15 -- Third Sunday in Lent (virtual church)

Thoughts before worship:

Friends in Christ, grace to you and peace.

Welcome to Bethlehem — 

like the old children’s song: 

"I am the church! You are the church! We are the church together! All who follow Jesus, all around the world!  Yes, we're the church together!

"The church is not a building; the church is not a steeple;
the church is not a resting place; the church is a people."

What a strange, eerie, surreal, anxiety-inducing season this is, that the most loving thing we could do is stay away from each other, call regular gatherings of God’s people off, and stay home.

None of us thought last Sunday was our last worship together in body for some time, but here we are, and we’re all feeling our way through this…

But we are not cancelling worship.  

Still we worship, still we gather albeit not in the way and under the circumstances we ever wanted — moment to find our bulletin, find a Bible…and a bowl of water.

Offer some reflections on our faith tradition as we begin (and as you search for the bulletin at BLCLife.org)…

Friends, God promises never to leave us — Lo, I am with you always, Jesus says. 

Rome: Early Church sneaking around giving, helping and worshiping...maybe this is the new “underground” worship? 

Early Christians believed that the world was literally going to end any minute now.  Despite that, Paul and countless others urged kindness, humility, gentleness, hard work and trust in God...all in response to God's first loving us!  When everyone else was hoarding and obsessed with defending only themselves, Christians were sneaking around sharing bread and caring for the sick. 

In Martin Luther's 16th century "Treatise on The Plague," he wrote about taking care of both our neighbors and ourselves.  He allegedly proclaimed: "Even if I knew the world would end tomorrow, I'd still plant my apple tree today."  That's a resurrection statement.  What's our "resurrection statement" even in these Lenten days? 

In the Gospel of Matthew, Jesus told his disciples to be "wise as serpents" (10:16).  Read, study, pray, work and strive for wisdom.  Or in the words of the prophet Micah: "Do justice, love mercy and walk shrewdly with our God" (6:8).  Taking precaution and doing self-care is faithful too.     

Jesus also talked about caring for "the least of these" (Matthew 25:30).  Those on the margins will be affected the most.

Finally, the Bible says 67 times, "Do not be afraid."  Even amid terror and violence, even amid disease, persecution and despair.  We faithfully embrace this strong word again.

Let’s begin.  Using the same service.  But perhaps the ancient words hit us differently, given our current situation.

Prayers of Intercession, were adapted from our friends at Faith Lutheran in Arlington and from the ELCA website.

Sermon:

“Come and see the One who knows everything about me...and loves me anyway.”  

Last week, we heard from John’s Gospel of the conversation with a man under the cover of deep darkness, and of the grace that those moments can offer.  Today, we hear of a conversation with Jesus at the polar opposite time of day: at noon.  The sun is the highest and the hottest.  The light is the greatest.  

Last week, Jesus met a man at the center of power, at the center of temple life in the ancient Jewish world, a Pharisee, a man with a name: Nicodemus...and by night.  Today, Jesus meets a woman on the edge, on the fringe, a Samaritan, who doesn’t even worship at the temple in Jerusalem.  And her name is not even mentioned...and this is by day.

It’s a wonderful and very stark contrast from last week’s Gospel to this week’s.  Christ is in both places...and all places.  And always “staying” (abiding)!  

Honesty is a powerful theme in these Chapters 3 & 4 of John.  Jesus’ conversation today with the Samaritan woman draws us right into this theme and others: honesty, changing of ways, even beliefs, place of worship, letting go and moving out...

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The woman at the well has, for years, been assumed to be a prostitute or a harlot, even as we have no concrete evidence that this is the case.  Some have assumed that since she has had 5 husbands, that it must be her fault and she gets around.  But in recent years, many scholars and theologians have wondered and asserted differently.  Maybe she’s lost 5 husbands, to disease or war.  Or, in that day in age, a man could permissibly divorce and literally throw his wife out for just about any reason...often for not bearing children.  

And being cast out, especially again and again, made a woman ritually unclean to the whole community.  One scholar was even so bold as to state: “Jesus is not slut-shaming this woman, so let’s not ever understand this passage in that way again.  She doesn’t disgust us; she inspires us with her witness in bringing her whole community out to meet this Jesus.”  

...but it starts with her being an outcast.  That’s why she’s at the well by herself, at the least favorable time of day.  If we had to draw water from wells in the Middle East, we’d probably all want to go in the morning or the evening when it was cooler.  She’s been cast out of the comfortable times and circles of people.  She’s been relegated to noon-time.

And this woman was hurting.  No question.  She could have been grieving, she could have been physically battered and bruised.  And even if promiscuity or a certain sexual recklessness was part of her story — which many of us can relate to today, that is, being careless and hurtful to our own bodies and others) — even if it was that, well, she no doubt had a painful story.  And she no doubt was living afraid.

She was “at the edge”.  A nameless woman, a Samaritan, and divorced and chewed up -- the imagery of “other” couldn’t be more blunt for the first hearers of John’s Gospel.  It always helps, when we’re talking about Samaritans, to think of who your Samaritan is today...in other words who makes your blood boil -- who is it that you can’t stomach…

it’s always helpful when we talk about Samaritans to draw our own lines, honestly (and deeply personally), and remember that Jesus is always there on the other side too, on the other side of the divisions that we make among ourselves...talking with the 5x-divorced, Samaritan woman.  

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And the site of this extra-ordinary meeting is this ancient well, Jacob’s well, a place still supplying water, just as it did centuries ago for Jacob and his flocks!  Since the 4^th century this has been one of the KEY baptismal texts for Christians.  Many baptismal fonts in Europe and the Middle East, Northern Africa (and in some of our churches too) are designed to resemble a well.  There is still water coming from the well: this is the place where Jesus meets us.  There is still water coming from the well.

Jesus reaches out to this woman—and to all who are on the outside and hurting, all whose histories are messy and painful—and Christ offers healing, peace, truth and love.

“Come and see the One who knows everything about me...and loves me anyway!” she proclaims.

Just as there is grace in the darkness—as we were reminded last week—there is incredible grace and hope in bringing things to light...in bringing our stuff out into the open before Christ.  

It starts in the dark, down deep in the soil, as the Spirit nudges us and stirs us, to be honest, and what a catharsis when it comes out.  Growth happens.  A new chapter begins — letting go of the past, moving outward into God’s future.  Out of the deep, peaceful darkness (Nicodemus) certain things come to light (the woman at the well).  Ah, the Gospel of John is rich!

Every Sunday (Luther even encourages daily) we offer our confession, splashed by the well waters of eternal life, and receive God’s mercy.  It’s like “we’ve had 5 husbands.” We confess not just our sin but also our pain and sorrow: “Lord, we are grieving and hurting and scared and anxious; call us back to you.  We’ve had 5 husbands.  

Forgive us for what we’ve done wrong — for the things for which we must take responsibility.  Comfort us in our pain and sorrow and fear — in the things over which we have no control.  Draw us to you, as you point us back out (not inward) to be your people to the strange and the strangers.”

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And, I’ve just gotta point out and love the scene of Jesus talking with a person who is so vastly different.  (My Grandpa Hanske’s like this — he loves just chatting with strangers, and he’s genuinely interested.)  Jesus meets and talks in the midst of difference... consider as you’re interacting online this week.

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Finally, final movement of the story: this woman goes back to her community from whom she’s estranged, and in a twist, actually leads them out!  She goes and opens their eyes to see in a new way. 

Our call here, our vocation, is to be like this woman at the well.  We meet Jesus in worship, in this unlikely place, in this unimaginable situation, at this water well, and then we go and call others, “Come and see the One who knows everything about me...and loves me anyway!”

There is still water coming from the well.  Forgiveness, new life, hope for a broken world.  Living water gushes and cleanses us now and nourishes us for faithfulness in the days ahead.  Jesus meets us and sees us plainly again this day, all our faults and blemishes, all our pains and sorrows, clear in the light of this day...and loves us anyway.  

Now that’s worth re-posting, that’s worth sharing!  Thanks be to God.  Amen.   

Prayers of intercession:

As we gather together and separately in our homes, let us pray for the church, the earth, the world, and all in need, responding to each petition with the words “Your mercy is great.”

Gathered in the mystery of our baptism, O God, we pray 

for Christians around the globe keeping Lent 

for Christians who must stop holding on-site services, 

for all church-sponsored hospitals and clinics 

for our congregation

...

Hear us, faithful God: 

Your mercy is great

. 

Facing global climate change, we pray 

for animals and plants with threatened habitats 

for waters that are polluted 

for areas that suffer from climate-based drought

...

Hear us, creator God: 

Your mercy is great. 

Facing violence throughout the world, we pray 

for the United Nations and all efforts toward world peace 

for all who serve in their nation’s armed forces 

for the people of Venezuela, 

Syria, Afghanistan, and Yemen 

for those maimed by war and terrorism 

for displaced families and all refugees

for traumatized children

...

Hear us, sovereign God: 

Your mercy is great. 

Facing the coronavirus, we pray 

for the thousands who have contracted the virus

for those who anxiously await test results

for all who are quarantined or stranded away from home 

for those who have lost their employment 

for those who are fearful 

for children who have no school 

for health professionals

who tirelessly work to care for others

for medical researchers 

for the CDC and World Health Organization 

for adequate and wise governmental policies

...

Hear us, benevolent God: 

Your mercy is great. 

Remembering all the sick, we pray 

for all who today will die 

for those who are hospitalized 

for those who have no access to medical care 

for those whom we remember before you now: 

Hear us, compassionate God: 

Your mercy is great. 

God of living water, mend the hearts of those who grieve broken relationships, whether by conflict, abuse, divorce, or death. Draw near to all who are afraid. Assure those questioning your presence in the midst of doubt or suffering. 

Hear us, O God.

Your mercy is great.

God of living water, renew us in the promises of baptism. Join us together in worship, fellowship, and sharing your good news. Embolden us—even now—to serve others and to work for justice and peace. 

Hear us, O God.

Your mercy is great.

God of living water, we thank you for those who endured suffering and who now boast in your eternal glory.

We offer our thanks for the lives of those who have died.  As they abide in your everlasting arms, may your comfort and peace be upon all who grieve.  Pour your Holy Spirit into our hearts and give us peace as we live in the hope of our salvation. 

Hear us, O God.

Your mercy is great.

We offer the prayers of our hearts to you (and feel free to post prayer requests):

Hear us, loving God: 

Your mercy is great. 

Into your hands, God of loving might, we commend all for whom we pray, trusting in your mercy, through your Son, Jesus Christ, our Savior and Lord. 

Amen

March 8 -- Second Sunday in Lent

Consider the thoughts that keep you up at night.  I think those thoughts give us real insight into what is important to us, what really concerns us, or what must be confronted in the day/s ahead.  What are the insights that come to you in the wee hours of the morning, the ideas – like skittish deer that creep up to the creek at dawn?  One sound, one distraction and they’re gone again.  Do you write those ideas down?

I always used to get really frustrated about waking up in the wee hours of the morning, trying to force myself back to sleep.  (I still do sometimes, thinking about all the things for which I need my rest when the sun comes up.)  But I once had a colleague, a friend, a mentor—when I was complaining to her about being awake against my will the night before—say, “Oh, don’t you just love those nights?  Holy time.  I thank God every time I am awakened in the night for no external reason.  That silence, that peace, that time alone with God.  I write, I sit in the darkness, sometimes I just walk around the house.  It is such a gift.”  I always try to think of her perspective when I wake up during the night, mind churning.

Nicodemus, in our Gospel text, must have had one of those rough nights.  I wonder if he couldn’t sleep.  Something was keeping him up too.  This episode follows the dramatic scene in the previous chapter where Jesus overturns the money tables in the temple.  In John, already in Chapter 2, Jesus is driving out the money changers!  And Nicodemus, one of the Pharisees, one of the good teachers and keepers of Jewish law had seen it all.  And something about what he saw or what Jesus said, was keeping him awake.

Nicodemus was a lot like a good Lutheran, by all cultural standards.  He had been in the church for years, he had family that had been in the church for years.  He was one of those legacy members.  He had roots.  He could tell stories about his father and mother and their faithful involvements with the church…the Jewish equivalents to altar guild, choir, confirmation, all the bible study groups.  He knew all the traditional songs, he had watched all the new trends come and go, he had been on councils and committees, he understood the flow of the religious calendar, and he had long eaten the traditional dishes – the ancient Jewish versions of carrot jello, cheesy pasta casserole, lemon bars.  He really knew everything there was to know about religious life.  And the more he thought about it, in those wee morning hours, the more he felt like he really should be the one instructing and inspiring and impressing Jesus.  His words and actions ought to be keeping Jesus awake at night, not the other way around.  Do you know anyone like Nicodemus?  Are you like Nicodemus?  Nicodemus was like a good, salt-of-the-earth Lutheran.  He was one of the charters, on all the boards, the keeper of memories and customs and the great “how we’ve always done it.”  There was a formula for being religious and Nicodemus knew it.  

But something has rocked his safe and familiar world.  There’s something that shook him a little the day before, and he needs to iron it out, clear it up, smooth it over, so he can get back to sleep.  He probably just misunderstood Jesus in that big public display the day before.  “Jesus couldn’t have really meant what it seemed like he was saying, could he?” Nicodemus just needed to clear it up, a little one-on-one time oughta do the trick…(maybe the ancient equivalent to a “strongly worded email”)

Do you think we uber-faithful types could ever have our boats rocked, our tables turned, by Jesus like that?  Could we, who have heard before the message of salvation like 1000x, we who have sung the hymns of the faith, and sampled the potlucks and congregational meetings through the years, like Nicodemus, really have anything more to learn…from one of the most popular passages in the entire Bible – John 3:16 and surrounding verses?      

You know, on a few occasions I’ve had people say to me, regulars, salt-of-the-earth Lutherans say, “You know, I wish [so-and-so] could have been here to hear this message today.  They would have really benefited.”  I think I understand that sentiment…usually comes from a place of concern and love for a close relative or friend, but sometimes it’s almost as if John 3:16, for example, isn’t really for the good church people anymore.  “Yeah, yeah, we’ve already heard this; wish all those others could hear it.”  But “God so loved the world...” is for all of us!  There is more room for all of us to grow in faith, thanks be to God.  Kierkegaard said that the hardest people to reach with the Gospel are Christians.  Either we think we already know it all, maybe like Nicodemus, or we just can’t seem to trust that it’s for us too – the gifts of God.  And the gifts of God are life in the Spirit, unconditional love and grace in the face of our faults.  Rebirth – a gift from God…this is what Jesus discusses with Nicodemus.  Life in the light.  

Rebirth is really all about baptism.  In fact, “being born again” was always a reference in the Christian church to being made new in Christ by water and the Spirit (i.e. baptism)…

until the 20th century, when some made it into a formula:  

Some Christians, mostly in the United States, felt that Christianity was being seriously threatened by the Enlightenment and other philosophical movements in Europe, and started talking (and making threats of their own) about being born again as a formula to avoid the fires of hell.  Every single one of us then grew up in — at least the remnant or the ripple, if not the center — of that early 20th c. theological reaction.  

But we aren’t “born again” by decision or formula.  Decision and formula has nothing to do with Jesus’ main thrust in the Gospel of John!  Rebirth in Christ’s love is what God decides to do for us, and we mark that in baptism with words and water and oil.  God (subject) so loves the world (object).  All we can do is open our hands and trust – “whosoever trusts that God so dearly loves this world, that God was made flesh and embedded into this earth”…all we can do is trust that, and then life in the Spirit is ours.  Trusting that God so loves this world, we then have joy – not “surface joy”, deep joy.  Not just after we die…we will live joyfully and eternally starting now.  Trust is a journey (great Lenten theme), it takes the community of faithful people around you.  And it takes openness, willingness to quiet ourselves and receive a gift (like welcoming a sleepless night), putting down the phone, or the worship folder, and just listening for God.  Sometimes, those of us church folks have the hardest time receiving gifts.  We’re used to giving gifts, not receiving them.  We’re used to offering of ourselves our time and our money.  But this gift of faith, this visit from Christ, is for us too.  (And it comes long before we do any offering.)

I love the honesty of Nicodemus.  His participation in his faith.  His engaging what he always understood to be true.  And his openness to a change in perspective...  

You know, we see Nicodemus again at the end of John: We see Nicodemus “who had first come to Jesus by night” gently taking Jesus’ body down from the cross, wrapping it in linen and anointing it with expensive spices, and laying him in the tomb.  Something changed for this Pharisee.

And I give thanks for a Gospel story of a powerful man struggling with Jesus under the cover of darkness.  Darkness gives us some space to be honest.  In other words, thank God for the night.  Sometimes there are things that are difficult to say by day…even to my spouse Heather.  But if we can lay in the dark at night and say what we need to say, I give thanks for that space, that darkness, to be honest.  Night time and darkness is not just for wickedness and deceit, as it’s often imaged.  The shadows give us some space to be honest before God.  Pillow talk with the Divine, this Lenten season. 

Once again, we may say in the safety and silence of darkness, “God here I am, a sinner, you know my thoughts and my wrongdoings, shortcomings.   And you love me anyway.  I am struggling to be honest about who I am.  Put me back together, God, in this safe space, in the cover of night.  Put me back together to be the human being that you made me to be.  Give me courage.  Give me wisdom.  Give me the willingness to trust in you.”  And God responds to us once again, “I so love you; I so love this world.  Trust and know that I am your God.  I will not forsake you.  And I will give you peace...I will give you rest.”  AMEN.   

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.  

February 9 -- Fifth Sunday after Epiphany

Friends in Christ, grace to you and peace.

In today’s Gospel text, Jesus tells his disciples in “Sermon on the Mount PART TWO” that they are salt and light.  Salt, by the way, was a Hebrew symbol of covenant, of God’s promise: preservative and flavor enhancer.  One of my favorite translations of the Bible, The Message by Eugene Peterson of blessed memory, puts it like this:  “You’re here to be salt-seasoning that brings out the God-flavors of this earth…You’re here to be light, bringing out the God-colors of the world.”  What does it mean to you, that you bring out the God-flavors of this life, you bring out the God-colors of this world?

As we prepare again to host the Hypothermia Shelter here at Bethlehem in 2 weeks, you know that’s another opportunity to bring out the God-flavors and God-colors of this earth, right?

This past week, we signed on, because we’re a Reconciling in Christ Congregation, to walk in the DC Pride Parade in June.  You know that’s an opportunity to bring out the God-flavors and God-colors of this world, right?

Chili cook-off and bingo last night…

Listen for implicit salt and light language in our New Member Welcome in just a little bit...

You bring out the God-flavors and God-colors of this earth, you are salt and the light, in what you do at work, what you say to strangers, how you treat people in restaurants and in the airport and on the road, how you post on the internet.  Friends in Christ...YOU are the salt of the earth, the rays of hope and community for this hurting world.  You preserve God’s covenant and enhance this earthly walk.

Saw the movie Just Mercy this week (thanks to the nudgings of Sister Ramona).  It’s based on the true story of Bryan Stevenson who graduated from Harvard and moved down to Alabama to defend those wrongly condemned on Death Row, who couldn’t afford proper representation, and had all the cards stacked against them because of the color of their skin.  In the face of so much blatant racism, and its ugly trail of cruelty.  Talk about salt and light!  Hope in the face of despair and the endless struggle for justice and truth.  Hope and the community stood as a beacon in that movie.

Being salt & light has so much to do with HOPE & COMMUNITY.

Because why would Christ call us flavor enhancers and covenant enjoyers and hope bringers and then hide us?  Why would Christ name us lights, and then put a bushel over our heads and hide us?  Being salt and light has a lot to do with HOPE and COMMUNITY!   [sing it] “Hide us under a bushel? No!  God’s going to let us shine.”  God says today, to all sisters and brothers in Christ that we are the light of the world, we bring out the God-colors in this world.  You reflect God in your words and actions, even in your just-being, for all to see.

Do you believe that?  We say this to our kids, in an attempt to get them to behave themselves.  “Now remember, you represent our congregation and our God, you reflect on all of us at BLC.”  We say it to our children.  But what about the rest of us?  Do you believe that you reflect God!?

It’s easy to be humble here, Lutherans:  “No, not me, I don’t reflect God.  I wish I did, but I’m nothing like [this person].”

Let’s entertain our humility for a moment.  Think about who is that other person?  Who do you seeing bringing out the God-flavors and God-colors through their words and actions?  (with us still or dearly departed) Do you have a person like that in your mind?

Anybody mention anybody in this congregation?  We can bring out the God-colors in each other, we reflect God to each other in different times...

(I want to just encourage you, to write a letter or a thank you card to whoever it is that has helped/is helping to bring out the God-colors, or the God-flavors in your life.  Who has helped make your faith 3-dimensional?  Maybe that person has since died or is somehow inaccessible…but perhaps then think of another person you do know, and write them a note this week…because they are God’s gift to you — God’s salt and light.)

But now,  let’s get back to you, humble people…
For if they have reflected God on you, now you definitely reflect God to the world.  For now Christ has shined his eternal light of hope on you, plus you’ve had that same light shined on you by an esteemed faith partner.  You are the salt of the earth, most definitely, you are the light of the world.

...Not even necessarily because I think you bring out God-colors, God-flavors.  I’m saying this because Jesus says it.  I try to preach what Jesus says, not what I think.  This is not my opinion, this is God’s fact, Christ’s truth: YOU REFLECT GOD, bringing out divine flavors and colors that cheer up this planet!  We are living embodiments of God’s hope and community for this world.

Friends, Jesus says it’s already so:  you’re the light of the world, the salt of the earth...
And Christ calls us to it anew again today. Christ has called you, to keep shining brightly.  Not in a showy of flashy way.  Not in a self-righteous way.

But to keep sharing God with this world—keep showing God to this planet, keep pointing to hope and community—keep drawing out the covenant, lifting up the promise of grace, enhancing the flavor of the Incarnation, illuminating the radical embrace of the Divine...through your actions.  “Let your lights shine bright, people of God!”

A light is warm and inviting, not excluding.  A city on a hill, which Jesus talks about in our Gospel, is not meant to be over and against the world; it’s a place that all can see.  It’s recognizable not for its own glory and good, but for the good of the world.  It has many entrances.  A city on a hill is a place where everyone knows they will be safe and welcomed and loved and accepted and fed and washed and empowered.

Here is that place!  Bethlehem Lutheran Church.

Because of Christ, Bethlehem is that place.  We are that city that Jesus is talking about...see the city is not a literal city, namely Jerusalem, any more!  “The city of God” is extending beyond  the confines of one ancient group, breaking out into the world – we are one of many in this city of God’s mercy – not for our own good and glory, but for the good of the world.  We are that people, a light shining bright, salt that enhances.

And we are safe here, so we go now to be safety for others.  We are fed here, and so we go now to feed others.  We are washed here, forgiven and renewed here, and so we go to wash, forgive and renew others.

And we are loved here…
Thanks be to God.  AMEN.

February 2 -- Fourth Sunday after Epiphany

Grace to you and peace…

Friends in Christ, today Jesus climbs up onto the mountain and teaches us all.  Today we have some of the core lessons of the Christian life brought to us “pow, pow, pow” in three of the most powerful, most central readings in the entire Bible.  Micah, Paul, Jesus.  It’s almost too much to handle.
Micah’s famous passage:  “What does the Lord require of you, but to do justice, love kindness, and walk [shrewdly] with your God.”  This is why we named our son Micah.

The theme of shrewdness/wisdom ultimately being about doing justice and loving kindness is carried over in Paul.  Paul talks about the wisdom of the world, the shrewdness of the world vs. the wisdom and shrewdness of God.  This text of Paul’s becomes one of Martin Luther’s main focal points as he discusses, what he calls, “the theology of the cross.”  Luther contrasts the “theology of the cross” to the “theology of glory”.  [Lutheran Handbook, and center page on “How to become a Theologian of the Cross” – read points 1 & 3]

This leads us right up the mountain, to find Jesus preaching, the Sermon on the Mount…where Jesus takes his listeners “next level.”  You want to follow me?  You want to be elevated with me up here on this mountain?  Well then, get ready for some surprises, Jesus says to us today.  Because Jesus continues on the themes that the prophet Micah and Paul set forth – that faithful discipleship has nothing to do with showy offerings, or popularity, or success, or the world’s wisdom.  In other words, the mountain top, is the last place you’ll find Jesus and his blessings.  Blessedness is down in the valley, on the plain, in the everyday.  Blessedness is shed upon the suffering, in the sermon on the mount – the lowly, the poor in spirit, the meek.  Jesus is not the king of the mountain; he’s the shepherd of the valley.  And his followers act in a similar way.  This is a radical idea.

It’s a topsy-turvy message again today.  The world would expect Christ, or any deity, to reign supreme – like a super-hero with giant muscles and awesome weapons, and servants, and enemies underfoot.  Conquering hero, like Mel Gibson or Russell Crowe, these characters that once were underdogs, but then overcame all the odds and now are just awesome and all the girls are screaming for them and they know how to fly jump motorcycles and shoot guns with precision and sword fight and do back-flips, bomb a football 70 yards...

...I know not everyone liked him (to say the least) but do you remember how cool President Obama was?  Swagger, calm, carried himself with poise and...just so cool.  Friends in Christ, Jesus is anything but cool.  Sorry.  Jesus is anything but cool, powerful, and smooth.

Seriously, if you want to step into these lessons of Scripture, think of a loser—a modern-day loser.  No muscles, probably clumsy.  Definitely not cool: “Despised and rejected.”  How quickly we forget that!

 Douglas John Hall’s  quote…
“How could we have been listening to the Scriptures all these centuries and still be surprised and chagrined by the humiliation of Christendom? How could we have honored texts like the Beatitudes
and yet formed in our collective mind the assumption that Christian faith would be credible only if it were popular, numerically superior, and respected universally?

"How could we have been contemplating the ‘despised and rejected’ figure at the center of this faith for two millennia and come away with the belief that his body, far from being despised and rejected, ought to be universally approved and embraced?”

It is a topsy-turvy message!  I hope you’re a little offended here, a little scandalized.  Going “next level” means flipping everything on its head.  For to suggest that Jesus is a loser is a winning statement.  [back to Lutheran Handbook, read point 4]
  
This is radical stuff!  And Jesus is just giving us a preview of what is to come, as he inaugurates his ministry with this Sermon on the Mount, lifting up all those who seem insignificant and silly to everyone else.

This is Jesus’ State of the Union address:  “Blessed are the poor in spirit, those who mourn, the meek, those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, the merciful, the pure in heart, the peacemakers, those who are persecuted.”  

Sisters and brothers in Christ, whether we find ourselves in these categories or not, this is Good News.  Because it means that we and the rest of this world will never be abandoned by God, will never stop being blessed by God.  There’s no way that God can ever disappear.  If Jesus is casting blessings on the least of these in our midst—sometimes that’s you, sometimes it’s not—
but if Jesus is casting blessings-upon-blessings all the way down the least of these, then we know we’re always covered by God’s love — ALL of us.

For in the moment when we too feel despised and rejected, clumsy, with no swagger, no muscles, no voice, no smile – Christ is right there.  In the moment when we feel lost and forsaken, alone or confused, Christ is right there too.  At the moment we feel so unforgivable, so broken or poor in spirit, Christ is there.  We find Jesus abiding, not on the red carpet, or at the 50-yard line (seems like we’re witnessing all the power and money in the world today) . . . but at the cross – foolishness to the power-hungry and awesome, “but to us who are being saved,” Paul writes, “it is the power of God.”

These words of Scripture this morning—do not frighten us or dis-engage us, sisters and brothers in Christ.  These words of Scripture send us off this mountain, this good place, where we can be together and encounter the living God.  These words send us down, into the world, with new hope and new life.  They shape us and mold us for forgiveness, for blessedness, and for faithfulness – for going to the next level, that is the gutters, the sad places, the cold places, the ugly places – bringing and doing and being justice, loving kindness, and walking wisely with God…this day and always.

Let’s go.

AMEN.

January 26 -- Third Sunday after Epiphany

I’m afraid that the quick (immediate) response of Andrew and Peter, James and John is more a feature of Matthew the Gospel writer than what might have actually happened.

Matthew’s text says they “immediately” left their nets and followed Jesus…they just dropped it all, which is both inspiring and intimidating when we put ourselves into the text.

Sometimes I wonder if it was more complicated than that.  Some archeological evidence is helping to confirm my wonder:  You see, fishing was big business, although I’ve always tended to think of fishing as a lower class job, stinky and for people without much in that time, archeologists and historians are showing us that fishing was actually quite lucrative.  Because of the Roman Empire’s presence there were trade channels throughout the Mediterranean and so a fisherman was actually quite connected and well paid.  So much so that it was not uncommon to become the family business…like the Zebedee and Sons Fishing Co. we hear about here today.

If fishing was just stinky low-wage labor, I think it would be much easier to follow Jesus...

Just like if we didn’t have anything, if we hated our jobs, if our families and friendships were unimportant, and if all our stuff — our homes, our valuables, our positions, our inside-industry connections — didn’t matter to us, sure we could drop the nets and follow Jesus too!

But as it turns out, I have many things.  We all do, in this context.  Many nets, many fish, many relationships, many dollars, and many-a-healthy day left.  Many blessings. [pause]  Maybe I should title the first part of this sermon “When Our Blessings Become Our Excuses.”
So many excuses...that frankly make me want to believe it was easier for the disciples because they didn’t have all the things I have.  If they did, they never would have risked it all.  “It was easier for them; they were just fishermen.”

But maybe I’m kidding myself.  To leave behind their livelihoods and their connections to “follow Jesus” in a political and economic climate as harsh as the ancient Mediterranean world was just as frightening and risky – if not more – than it would be today.
--
What are your nets, friends in Christ?  What are your excuses, blessings that you’re unwilling to yield?  What do you need to drop in order to hear Christ’s loving invitation more fully?   Doesn’t have to be just physical things...Do you have obsessions that are getting in the way?  Relationships that are unhealthy and “tangle-some”?  Anger at something someone did to you, that’s pulling you under?  Anger at God?  What stuff is holding you back from letting go and following this One who proclaims, “Repent, for the realm of God is here & now!”?

Let’s engage a little more: Type, write down and answer this question (p28 is blank).  It’s one thing to say you believe in Jesus, but what is it that’s keeping you these days from following Jesus, i.e. what are your “nets”?

That’s a private question, and rather than dropping them immediately, or bringing them up front or burning them symbolically right now, take those “nets” home.  Live with that which is entangling you a little bit longer.  Hopefully you’ve named it; that’s good.  Now live with it, for a bit more.  Acknowledge that “nets” can be a companion – probably been with you for a long while.  Even our unhealthy habits – our anger, our over-consuming, our destructive relationships – can become friends because they’re what we know.

But in time, maybe later today, maybe later this week or in a month, maybe during Lent, start to let go of those, start to put down those nets.  God will give us/you the strength.

“Nets” — I wonder about the nets the disciples were carrying, even after they left their physical nets.  What were their doubts, their fears, their anger, their child-hood wounds...  even after they got on the road with Jesus?  We can engage this text on many levels...

But the bottom line is that Christ calls us.

Jesus calls you from the safety of your nets, from the security of your boats.  Jesus calls you from your blessings...and your burdens and pains, and invites you, invites us — commands us, actually — to plunge into the deeper waters and rockier roads of ministry.  All that we do is ministry: as we work in the office, as we parent our children, as we drive our cars, and as bake our bread.  All is ministry, and Christ is calling each of us deeper.  That’s why you’re here today: because Christ has a call for you.  (If you were dragged here by your mom, then that’s God working through her :)

And sisters and brothers in Christ, while this plunging deeper talk may sound difficult and frightening, and it is certainly risky, this is God’s gift to us today.  This is God’s love and God’s grace at work in many and mysterious ways.

God is offering us a richer life in following Jesus.   Following Jesus looks different for each of us; and the specificity becomes clearer as we start let go of all the baggage, all the nets.)   But I trust it looks something like ‘deeper connections,’ as we plunge into Christ’s call —
deeper connections with our neighbors, with the earth, with our own bodies.  All, such a gift!  This is salvation, in fact!

God is offering us our integrity and our health in this summons.  (The word salvation, of course, comes from salvus which is all about wholeness and health of body, mind and spirit.)

So many of us live divided lives.  Hidden secrets, immense baggage from past experiences.  And we tend to pad that pain with stuff, we tend to busy our lives so much that don’t have to hear Christ’s command, Christ’s beckoning:  “Drop that stuff.  And follow me, Marie, Kate, Richard, John.   Let’s go fish for people.  We’re going to plunge into the world, and find lost, lonely, stuck, angry, sad, hopeless people.  We’re going to pull them out from the depths of despair, from death itself, and into the radiance of God’s grace and mercy.  How ‘bout it?  That’s the kind of fishing we’re going to do now…

“And I am here with you,” Jesus assures us, “as you leave your abundance and your pain, your lucrative busy-ness and all the noise in your lives, your determination to be secure, I am here,” Jesus says, “holding you and calling you this day to come and follow me.”

The road will be rocky.  The seas will be choppy.  But when we are held in the arms of Christ, there is true peace—the peace that passes all understanding.  That peace is yours...even today...even now...even before you drop anything and decide to follow.

But let’s let go of those nets.  That’s the gift.  God’s got you and Christ’s peace pours down on you...this day and forever.  AMEN.

January 19 -- Second Sunday after Epiphany

Didn’t we just read about Jesus Baptism in Matthew last week?  Yeah—actually named the entire Sunday last week after it, colored the altar in gold, lit the Christ candle, splashed the kids at the font, read a special prayer...remember?

So why are we reading about it again in John today?!
It’s the year of Matthew after all!  (You guys aren’t feeling my frustration ;)

Friends in Christ, here’s what we need to know about John’s Gospel:  it’s the brightest and highest of all.  It’s too shiny and glorious to have an entire year of John.  We would go blind.  We have to take it in small doses, inserting it from time to time into our 3-year cycle of Matthew, Mark and Luke.  Fascinating book I’m reading* and loving right now looks at the four gospel as a journey of transformation, where Matthew is about facing change, next Mark is about the suffering that comes when we face that change, then John comes third on the journey, and is that moment of coming into glory, clarity and joy.  (Luke-Acts finally is about going back with that clarity of justice, with that joy to the world, it’s the road back to our communities.)  But John is the apex, the mountain top experience.  The bright, shining star.  The epiphany.  Martin Luther called John’s Gospel the eagle because “it soars above the rest”.  It’s too much.  You can’t eat caviar and drink the best campaign every day...

But we’ve got John today! And Christ’s baptism and the calling of his first disciples is so important...
that in case you had any question about who that was who got baptized last week in Matthew, John’s gonna clear it up for us today: “Behold, the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world.”  John the Baptist doesn’t even splash water of Jesus, all he does is point at him and sings a hymn.

My NT professor (she came and preached here at my installation) Dr. Audrey West says in her commentary on this text, "’It is not about me.’ That is the message whenever people in the Fourth Gospel ask John the Baptist who he is.”   In the Gospel of John, I think John the Baptist would be more appropriately called John the Pointer.

And here the radiance that’s almost too bright (just going to slip it in here).  It’s like coming out of a dark cave into a clear, snowy winter’s day:  this Jesus, walking along, is not not just God’s son.  Jesus is God!  Love divine, all loves excelling.  Come down to be among us, to save us and this whole world, to forgive us and this whole world, to love us and this whole world unconditionally!  We have to squint and protect our eyes from that much brilliance.

Baptism is central to the Christian journey.  We have to look at it again today, in John’s telling: even more radiance.  “Lamb of God who takes away sin, who conquers death and the devil, who shines like the sun.”  What a text for our long nights, right?  For any of our seasons of pain and loss and hopelessness.  What a text for this moment.  It’s like January is the season of baptism.  We watched last week talking about Eastern Orthodox, I showed a video in adult ed of Russian Orthodox Christians dunking into icy lake in January to celebrate these texts of Jesus’ baptism, and remember their own baptisms.  Yeah, this is the season of baptism... showered with gifts by the magi, showered with water last week, showered with glory and brilliance and praise from John today.

So what?  What does Jesus’ baptism in John have to do with us?   So what?  What does this have to do with me?

On one hand, nothing.  On the other, everything.

But let’s start with nothing.  On one hand, Jesus baptism has nothing to do with you.  That’s the whole point.

That’s the point Dr. West is making:  For once in your life, in other words, get over yourselves!  

It’s not about you!  (Or me. I hope you know I’m preaching to myself here too.)  John points away from himself and away from everyone else.  Simple.  It’s about Jesus.  Simple.  And yet so profound in our selfie culture, right?  Social media is a great indicator…just scroll through.  If an alien landed here and started scrolling through our Facebook feeds...what a self-focused culture.  Guilty — I take and share selfies all the time:  “Look at me...and whoever else can fit in the frame.”

In a way, this second week of Jesus’ baptism is a second chance to shift the focus away from us.  Often the angle on Jesus’ baptism is: Jesus was baptized therefore you, you, you...You are loved, you too are named child of God, you too are called and sent out — all great and true, but...

...Let’s just bask in the point, today.  The pointing of John the Pointer.  Let’s just worship God — not ourselves — for a minute here this morning.  (“worship”, again, from the OE worth-ship, i.e. what’s worthy of our sacrifices).  We do worship ourselves.  Make sacrifices for ourselves most of the time, if we’re honest, right?  As Mother Teresa said, we draw our circles, our frames, our definitions of family, too tightly.  Me and whoever else can fit in my frame.  We make sacrifices only for that inside, small group.  (By the way, on the other hand, this was one of the most radical things about those early Christian communities: they were way ahead of the curve on drawing wider and wider circles, opening up bigger and bigger, in another era where circles were super tight.)

Today, let’s bask in the point.  The pointing of John the Pointer.

On one hand, this has absolutely nothing to do with us, for a change.  This is about God’s glory and grace shining through.  There’s nothing we can do about it...except give thanks and praise...like John did…more than once.  “Behold the Lamb of God,” he proclaimed one day and the next.  That’s why we sing it over and over, every Sunday at Communion “Lamb of God, you take away the sin of the world”: to remind ourselves, for one thing — it’s not about me.  (story - Adam’s plane ride: “Well, I believe in myself.”
—
And then on the other hand...when we stop and worship God.  When we look at what John the Pointer is pointing at.  Gaze as the majesty of the the Savior of the world, the forgiver of all our sin, the conquerer of death itself, the very brilliance of God...when we stop and really see this, everything changes.  And suddenly everything is about us.  Everything that the radiance of God in Christ shines upon is our concern.  Every person, every creature, every landscape, every beat of our own heart and of our neighbor’s heart — humans and beyond — all of it is our concern.  All of it is about us.

And Jesus invites us with Andrew and Simon Peter to “come and see”.  On one hand, it’s not about us, and on the other, it’s all about us and the whole cosmos.  Jesus cracks us out of our rusty old frames, and presents us again this day in 2020 a new vision.  An expansive embrace.  A fuller mission.   A cosmic joy.  A more glorious union.  In this broken, sinful, self-centered, cruel, sick and twisted world...this. is. our. call. from Jesus.  today.  We are a part of this radical grace and glory.  “Come and see,” the rabbi says.  So, let’s go.
AMEN.

* Heart and Mind: the Four-Gospel Journey for Radical Transformation, A.J. Shaia, Quadatos, 2019.