We Know This Story, Don't We? - Sermon on Luke 15:1-3; 11-32b

Listen to the gospel lesson and sermon here.

Luke 15:1-3, 11b-32

Now all the tax collectors and sinners were coming near to listen to him.² And the Pharisees and the scribes were grumbling and saying, "This fellow welcomes sinners and eats with them."³ So he told them this parable:¹¹ "There was a man who had two sons.¹² The younger of them said to his father, "Father, give me the share of the property that will belong to me.' So he divided his property between them.¹³ A few days later the younger son gathered all he had and traveled to a distant country, and there he squandered his property in dissolute living.¹⁴ When he had spent everything, a severe famine took place throughout that country, and he began to be in need.¹⁵ So he went and hired himself out to one of the citizens of that country, who sent him to his fields to feed the pigs.¹⁶ He would gladly have filled himself with the pods that the pigs were eating; and no one gave him anything.¹⁷ But when he came to himself he said, "How many of my father's hired hands have bread enough and to spare, but here I am dying of hunger!¹⁸ I will get up and go to my father, and I will say to him, "Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you;¹⁹ I am no longer worthy to be called your son; treat me like one of your hired hands."²⁰ So he set off and went to his father. But while he was still far off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion; he ran and put his arms around him and kissed him.²¹ Then the son said to him, "Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; I am no longer worthy to be called your son."²² But the father said to his slaves, "Quickly, bring out a robe—the best one—and put it on him; put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet.²³ And get the fatted calf and kill it, and let us eat and celebrate;²⁴ for this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found!' And they began to celebrate.²⁵ "Now his elder son was in the field; and when he came and approached the house, he heard music and dancing.²⁶ He called one of the slaves and asked what was going on.²⁷ He replied, "Your brother has come, and your father has killed the fatted calf, because he has got him back safe and sound.'²⁸ Then he became angry and refused to go in. His father came out and began to plead with him.²⁹ But he answered his father, "Listen! For all these years I have been working like a slave for you, and I have never disobeyed your command; yet you have never given me even a young goat so that I might celebrate with my friends.³⁰ But when this son of yours came back, who has devoured your property with prostitutes, you killed the fatted calf for him!'³¹ Then the father said to him, "Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours.³² But we had to celebrate and rejoice, because this brother of yours was dead and has come to life; he was lost and has been found.' " 

Stop me if you’ve heard this one before...There was a man who had two sons...The younger of them said to his father, "Father, give me the share of the property that will belong to me.'  So the Father does. The son leaves his family and squanders his fortune. With nothing left..not even his pride...he returns home. And the whole way home he’s rehearsing his apology speech.  And as he arrives the Father welcomes him with open arms as though he were lost and is now found. And that bugs us...and the older brother, because this kid shamed his family, blew his fortune, and dragged himself home to grovel...and he’s welcomed with a party of all things.

That’s a familiar story isn’t?  Second to The Good Samaritan, this is probably Jesus’ most popular, or at least well known parable.   And any time I start to read this parable publically, like I did a moment ago, I get nervous right around the first line.  I worry that as soon as I say “There was a father who had two sons…”, most people check out. Oh I know that story...the prodigal kid and the loving father.  I know that story. We’re the kid and the father is Jesus. Got it, preacher. I’ll meet you at the end when you tell us we can sit down.

Now I’m being a bit facetious, but that’s my worry primarily because that is also my typical reaction.  It’s a problem. I’ll admit that. But how often do we hear the old familiar stories of our faith...whether prodigal son, good samaritan, Jesus being born, The passion narrative… how often do we hear them thinking, “oh I know that story” and then check-out because the story hasn’t changed in several thousand years, doubt it’ll change this time.  

Well that’s the beauty of faith and the power of scripture as the living word of God.  It’s always moving and breathing. The words may not change,...it may all sound the same...but when the Spirit is afoot, we may interpret it differently every single time we read or hear the story.  The stories of our faith speak differently to every person in every context. Scripture is alive. The Word of God is speaking and breathing. It’s prying and pushing, nagging and convicting, affirming and rewarding.  Scripture always speaks. 

That’s why we embody the seasons of the church year.  From Advent through Christmas and Epiphany...From Lent through Holy Week, Easter and Pentecost.  We enter into the seasons of the church and follow the accompanying passages of scripture not because it’s redundant and known.  We don’t journey through the texts of Lent and the narrative of Holy week because we know them. If we checked-out of church and worship because we know the old stories of our faith then we deny the power of the Spirit.  

We engage in the texts of our faith again and again because the Spirit is always swirling.  We read and hear well beyond the parts we know best, always listening to what the Spirit might be telling us, here and now.   It’s why we commit to extra services on Wednesday night during Lent. And if you haven’t come yet, it’s not too late to join us.  We are using worship stations, and while that may sound intimidating, I promise it’s not. You and the Spirit worship at your own pace, picking and choosing where to spend your time. 

It’s why we have extra services during Holy Week.  Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, and the Easter Vigil.  We don’t have worship those evenings just because that’s what we’ve always done.   We gather those nights for worship, not just to learn the stories of our faith because most of us know them like the back of our hand.  Those services are important because they are they honor, remember, and celebrate the foundation of our faith. That Christ became incarnate, died on the cross, and rose again so that all may have life and life abundant.   We knowthe story of Jesus’ passion and Holy week. We know the stories of wandering in the wilderness and the temptation.  Weknowthe parable of the prodigal son and the good samaritan.  But we never stop telling them. And we never stop hearing them.  Because the Spirit never stops speaking to us.

And today is no different.  There was a man who had two sons.  Now the younger son was arguably selfish and naive, and he makes a bold choice to ask his father for his share of the property.  This decision ultimately brings shame upon the family because it’s the same as wishing his father dead. Nevertheless, the father agrees and the son abandons his family, turning away from all that he has and has known to explore the lures of the world.

The son made some poor choices and squandered his property away.  He soon found himself broke and unemployed, with a great need. He lucks upon a minimum wage job slopping for the pigs and sinks to rock bottom.  At this low point, he has a revelation, actually it’s more of a memory or realization that back home, even his Father’s hired hands lived better than him.

So, he swallows his pride, and makes the journey home.  The whole way home he’s practicing his apology speech, seeking the exact words necessary for his father to forgive him and welcome him home.  Can you imagine how guilty and ashamed...how scared and vulnerable he must have felt walking up to his home.

And what does the Father do?  He does what Jesus always does, he embraces the son with open arms.  Adorns him with robe, sandals, and ring. Calls for the fatted calf to be cooked for a great celebration, because what was lost has been found.  The son has come home.

This parable sits so well within the season of Lent, doesn’t it?   The themes of the parable seem so relevant and appropriate. 

The younger son betrays his family.  Claims inheritance, turns his back, and abuses the gift.  He squanders the goodness he was given. Almost as though he didn’t even know or appreciate what he really had.

He wanders the world, literally to another country, and journeys through his own personal wilderness.  A wilderness wrought with the lures of the world. A wilderness that eats his material possession, leaving him for dead and despair.

He experiences a sense of revelation or remembrance.  A moment of self-discernment and assessment. It’s such a moment that he turns around to head home...a home with an uncertain welcome.

The younger son arrives home, ready to confess and repent, but before he even has a chance to say he’s sorry, the father is already rejoicing.  The sin isn’t given power in the story...rather forgiveness takes top billing. 

And how about the father.  It was not the custom of the day for older men to run.  But this father, whom I imagine had waited weeks or more for his son to return.  Despite the shame upon his family and the judgement of neighbors...once he glimpse the dust of his son’s feet on the horizon, he grasps the edge of his robe and runs.  Runs to his son. Embraces him with love and forgiveness and showers him with grace. The father doesn’t even give the son a chance to confess...not because confession isn’t important, but because forgiveness is so much powerful.   Grace prevails.

We know the story like the back of our hand don’t we?   Its characters and parallels? 

So often the story bates us into relating to the younger son..  Perhaps we too have been short-sighted, naive, and lost? ...wandering on our own, squandering the gracious gifts we have been given to pursue the lure of worldly temptations?  Most of all the parable then reminds us of a Father so loving and forgiving, that grace is freely and abundantly given. Without condition? That maybe confession isn’t a prerequisite for God’s grace, but rather an expression of it?

The story then calls us to our own experience of self-assessment and discernment.  Have you wandered and squandered? Are you ripe for repentance? Scared to return to the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, body, and mind?   It’s an easy and honest parallel for us to make. Us as the younger son.

But I think it does us well to remember why Jesus told us this parable in the first place.   In verse 1, he says, Now all the tax collectors and sinners were coming near to listen to him.² And the Pharisees and the scribes were grumbling and saying, "This fellow welcomes sinners and eats with them.”  They were grumbling that Jesus welcomes all to the banquet table. Not only welcomes, but seeks out. Pulls up the edge of his robe and runs after.  Welcoming them home with an embrace of forgiveness before that have a chance to fully confess their sin. They were appalled and disgusted that Jesus would conduct himself in such a way.

Remember now, there was a man who had two sons.  And the older son offers a more convicting reality for us.  Perhaps we find ourselves with the older son? Hard-working, patient, and obedient.  Going the extra mile in our faith. Taking the extra steps to ensure that the gifts promised to us are rightly accepted?  Maybe you relate to the older son, annoyed by God’s ability to forgive again and again, people who you may think don’t deserve it. Angry at the father’s unconditional forgiveness?  Frustrated at how delighted God can be to find the squandering sinners and welcome them home? Are you ever weary that perhaps the repentant sinner isn’t worthy of celebration just yet?  Good for them for repenting, but are they really worthy of such an extravagant party?

Both sons have something to teach us.

The father leaves his house for both sons.  Pursues them both. Invites them both to the banquet.  And most of all, ensures them both that his love is endless and abounding, steadfast and abundant.  It never wavers. And it never judges.n

We know this story, don’t we?  The story of a God who is slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love.  A God who waits in the most abiding way as we wander restlessly in our faith?  A God who pours out the most abundant and gracious gifts of grace and forgiveness...again and again despite our squandering.  A God so loving and caring. A God that dines with sinners and offers the most outlandish celebration for each and every sinner.  A God who always, always, always welcomes us home. And it’s not so much THAT God welcomes us home again and again, but the way God welcomes us home.  With open arms and persistent forgiveness. Running to us. Again and Again. Pursuing us with love and mercy.

We know this story, don’t we?  

This is why we participate in the season of Lent and the Great Three days of Holy Week.  Not simply to hear again the stories we know...but to know that we are apart of God’s story.  To experience the radical love of a Father for his son. For his children. 

Amen.

© Pastor Daniel Locke, preached 03.31.2019 at St. Mark's JAX

Attentiveness - Sermon on Luke 2:1-22 - Christmas Eve

Luke 2:1-14 [15-20]

1 In those days a decree went out from Emperor Augustus that all the world should be registered.² This was the first registration and was taken while Quirinius was governor of Syria.³ All went to their own towns to be registered.⁴ Joseph also went from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to the city of David called Bethlehem, because he was descended from the house and family of David.⁵ He went to be registered with Mary, to whom he was engaged and who was expecting a child.⁶ While they were there, the time came for her to deliver her child.⁷ And she gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in bands of cloth, and laid him in a manger, because there was no place for them in the inn.⁸ In that region there were shepherds living in the fields, keeping watch over their flock by night.⁹ Then an angel of the Lord stood before them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified.¹⁰ But the angel said to them, "Do not be afraid; for see—I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people:¹¹ to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord.¹² This will be a sign for you: you will find a child wrapped in bands of cloth and lying in a manger."¹³ And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God and saying,¹⁴ "Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace among those whom he favors!" [15 When the angels had left them and gone into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, "Let us go now to Bethlehem and see this thing that has taken place, which the Lord has made known to us."¹⁶ So they went with haste and found Mary and Joseph, and the child lying in the manger.¹⁷ When they saw this, they made known what had been told them about this child;¹⁸ and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds told them.¹⁹ But Mary treasured all these words and pondered them in her heart.²⁰ The shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all they had heard and seen, as it had been told them.]

Sermon

There’s a profound sense of attentiveness this night.  I wish you could see what I see. Ya know, every week I stand in the pulpit and read from the gospel.  Typically, the majority of folks are reading along in their bulletin. A few are looking at me as a I read, but most are readinging along.  

But on a night like tonight, there is a intriguing sense of awareness and attentiveness.   Tonight when the gospel was read, a few eyes followed along in the bulletin, but an above average amount of people looked to me as I read.  Or rather, looked to the gospel as it was proclaimed. 

There is a profound sense of attentiveness this night.  Now whether that attentiveness comes from genuine intrigued, fascination, and wonder with what God is up to in this story...or if it is rooted in “yah, we know the story, hurry up and get to the good stuff so we can get back home to our presents and packages, our dinners and cookies...our family traditions ...or bed.  Either way, tonight’s proclamation of the gospel beckons us into a renewed sense of wonder and attentiveness.

That nativity story is one of great familiarity.  Perhaps we can’t all recite it perfectly with its many details and nuances, but I suspect the majority of us gathered here can paraphrase it with confidence.   It is the same gospel story proclaimed every single year on Christmas Eve, and even if this is your first time worshipping in a Lutheran church on Christmas Eve, I would venture to guess that we all know what to expect this night.  The Spirit has brought us all together in this place, and I doubt there was much question as to what passage might be read from scripture.

It’s a familiar story, and we’re glad to hear.  And I think the familiarity of the story makes us extra attentive and aware not because we’re eagerly waiting to hear something new, discover a new angle or detail, uncover some new nugget from within the story that will blow our minds… I think the heightened attentiveness and awareness is because we know the story so well and we rely on this night, we depend on this story because it is constant.  It is certain. It is reliable. 

So That no matter what is going on in our world...no matter the consternation, brokenness, or despair….the nativity story remains a light of hope.  A beacon of love that proclaims a God who is abundantly up to good… A reminder that God defied all expectations and fulfilled a promise to intimately abide with the world through Jesus Christ - the Emmanuel.

In tonight’s story, a young, unwed, and unexpectedly now pregnant couple are required, mandated to return to their place of family origin to be counted in the census.  The requirement comes as a decree from Emperor Augustus for all the world to be counted. So they journey to Bethlehem, not by choice but by obligation. 

They traveled wearily for days only to be un-welcomed as though they are strangers in a foreign land.  They didn’t feel welcome. There was no place for them to stay. No room. They were lost and alone in the city of Bethlehem.  And even though they were filled with the promise of God in the form of a baby child...the bearer of God made flesh had no place to lay her head.  

In tonight’s story the shepherds, minding their own business were keeping watch over their flocks by night.  They were on high alert with intent listening in order to protect the flock. And all due respect to Shepherds, but in that day they did not hold a very high status on the vocational totem poll.  They were filthy, dirty, overworked, and underpaid. They worked long hours and slept outside with animals. They were at the bottom of the first century socio-economic world. 

And in tonight’s story, the story we so dearly love, God acts in the most scandalous way.  God becomes incarnate in the form of a baby boy, born to a lowly, unwelcomed and wandering family, born in a setting least suited for a king.  Casting the mighty and powerful aside, the heavenly angels declare good news to the poor and lowly. 

The angels go to the fields and seek out the discarded and underappreciated shepherd workers and says Today...we bring you good news of great joy for all the people, because a Today a baby is born and that baby is God’s son.  And he is the Messiah. He will reign in such a way that the world could never expect. 

And Honestly, at its surface, nothing about this story makes sense.  Nothing about is deserving of a headline or media frenzy. Nothing about this unknown, unwelcomed couple having an illegitimate child in an unsavory location in the middle of the night is cause for any attention.  There is no reason for the world to care. There is no reason for the world to listen to shepherds proclaiming all they’ve seen and heard.

And yet, here we are this Christmas eve to hear the familiar story.  With eager anticipation and an attentive ear we lean into something faithful.  Something reliable. Something genuine. Something true. 

I think we trust this story and its place within our lives because it is a proclamation of truth and hope in amidst a world ravaged by false testimony, unfaithful witness, insecurity,... a world that can be experienced as luring and deceptive, bearing false hope to those least, last, and lost. 

We tune our ear, like shepherds in a field by night, to the glory of God’s victory.   In this precious moment we remember that God took on flesh, for the sake of the whole world.  God became incarnate to live and breath among us. To wander in wade in the experiences of life.  To know true joy among family and friends and to dwell in the deepest moments of grief. God became incarnate to share in the breadth of human emotions and experiences, even to the point of death on a cross.  

And I think we’re so attentive to this oh so familiar story because we know the ending.  

We know the completeness of God’s work in the world.  

We know that this Christ child, born of lowly parents in a place not worthy of being called a bed or home...we know this Christ child, the emmanuel, God with us changes the world.  Changes the course of humanity by flipping the world’s expectations and proclaiming a message of hope, life, love, and peace to the whole world, especially those considered the lowest among us.

We attend to the scandal of this night--God breaking forth to dwell among us, in the vulnerable moments of human existence because the proclamation is reliable.  It’s truth. It’s promise. It’s hope. It’s for you and me, and for the whole world.

And while the world might work desperately and tirelessly to oppose this message of hope...as the world bends, fractures, and breaks...dividing, distorting, and abusing relationships….as the world lures us to believe that wealth, power, status, and self indulgence is life giving or life saving….God humbles the world. 

Through a virgin named Mary and a man named Joseph, God blesses us with divine presence.  For no other reason than the fact that God loves us that much.

So dear friends, while we lean into God’s victory tonight...as we tune in attentively to the old, reliable, message of hope.  May it be a reminder that God is still just as active among us today. Christ, the emmanuel, being born among us is but a turning point in a the greater narrative of God’s hope for the world. 

May this night, this O so holy night, be a reminder...No, an invitation to remain attentive.  Attentive not only to the glory of God in the story of Jesus, but attentive and alert to the work of God here and now.  The power of God among us today...casting the mighty down from their thrones and uplifting the lonely. 

Like shepherds in the field, attentive to their flock and their lives...may we keep watch, be alert...heighten our awareness because 

Dear siblings in Christ….Tonight we proclaim good news of great joy!  For us and for our salvation, a child is born this day in the city of David. a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord.  Emmanuel

Amen. 

© Pastor Daniel Locke, preached Dec. 24, 2018 @ St. Mark's JAX

Turning the World Upside Down - Sermon on Luke 3:1-6

Listen to the gospel lesson and sermon here.

Luke 3:1-6

1 In the fifteenth year of the reign of Emperor Tiberius, when Pontius Pilate was governor of Judea, and Herod was ruler of Galilee, and his brother Philip ruler of the region of Ituraea and Trachonitis, and Lysanias ruler of Abilene,² during the high priesthood of Annas and Caiaphas, the word of God came to John son of Zechariah in the wilderness.³ He went into all the region around the Jordan, proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins,⁴ as it is written in the book of the words of the prophet Isaiah, "The voice of one crying out in the wilderness: "Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight.⁵ Every valley shall be filled, and every mountain and hill shall be made low, and the crooked shall be made straight, and the rough ways made smooth;⁶ and all flesh shall see the salvation of God.' "

Well, we seem to be getting closer to the holiday texts we know and love.  Last week we read from Luke 21, where Jesus sits on the temple mount and offers an apocalyptic discourse to the disciples.   Today, we go back just a bit further in time to the time of John the Baptist. Today’s text in the third chapter of Luke actually occurs after Jesus has been born and raised.  

I promise, if you hang in there, we’ll eventually get to the picture perfect holiday texts that we all know and love.  The manger, shepherds, Mary and Joseph. All of the good stuff. I promise it’s coming.

But until then, it is important that we spend some time in Advent being reminded that we wait not only for the story of Christ being born, but also we wait for the second coming of Christ.  We wait anxiously for the time in which God will make all things new. A time when God will turn the world upside down. Restore all of creation and make us whole.

We wait ever so patiently for the completion of God’s kingdom, praying daily for thy kingdom come and thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven.  For now, in the season of Advent, it is good for us to dwell with the gravity of what it is we’re actually waiting for.

Today’s text sets up the time of John the Baptist.  We don’t actually hear from the John the Baptist until next week, when he comes out swinging from the wilderness and he shouts to the crowd, “You brood of vipers…”.  

But until then, today’s text only introduces the one crying out in the wild.  We are introduced to his presence, and the stage is set for his arrival. The arrival of the one written about in the book of the words of the prophet Isaiah, “The voice of one crying out in the wilderness: “Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight.” 

I think it is interesting and worth noting in today’s text, that the text isn’t about Jesus.  It’s actually not even about John the Baptist. In fact, today’s text opens with an unexpected litany of political, economic, and religious leaders and officials.  Luke sets the stage for John’s entrance by rattling off the who’s-who of first century people in power. 

In the fifteenth year of the reign of Emperor Tiberius…when pontius Pilate was governor of Judea.  When Herod was the ruler of Galilee, and his brother Philip ruler of the the region Ituraea and Trachonitis, and lysanias of Abilene, during the high priesthood of Annas and Caiaphas…

Luke is setting the scene for the time of John and Jesus’ arrival.  And between you and me, Luke is baiting his audience, the readers,...he’s baiting you and me to learn a valuable lesson about God and what God is up to.  This text is about God and what God is up to.

The text isn’t actually about Jesus.  And it isn’t really about John the baptist.  Nor is it about the list of powerful leaders.  This text is really a subtle proclamation about God and God’s intention for the world.  It is a subversive message about God’s plan for salvation to a broken creation. It’s about God and what God is up to. 

During my time at Lutheridge as a camp counselor, I learned a lot of songs.  And one of the camp favorites was a song called One Name. The lyrics read, “One name under heaven, whereby we must be saved.  Forgiven of our sins, baptized in the water, filled with the Holy Ghost, washed by the blood of the lamb. Free to be free my friends, freed by the blood of the lamb.”  

Then the 4th and final stanza of the song goes, “God’s goinna move this pla-a--ace, God’s goinna move this place...God’s goinna turn this whole world, upside down.”

God’s goinna turn this whole world upside down.  That’s the subtle message of today’s text and I suspect it went right by most of us when we first read it.

In the fifteenth year of the reign of Emperor Tiberius...with Pontius Pilate governing Judea...with Herod and his brother ruling Galilee and beyond.  With Annas and Caiphas ruling the high priesthood.. God is up to something. Something new. Something unexpected. Something that will turn the whole world upside down.  Something that will shake the status quo to its core. 

You see, in those days the world in desperate and eager for a Messiah, a savior.  Someone to fill the centuries of prophecy that came before. Someone who would be raised up as a might ruler, a king of kings, a leader of nations, a great and powerful savior of the people.  

And so with each powerful political and religious leader that Luke rattles off he challenges the expectations of the world.  God’s up to something …but it won’t happen through the mighty Emperor Tiberius. God is up to something, but it won’t be through powerful Pontius Pilate, Governor of Judea.  God is up to something, but it won’t be through the revered king Herod or his brother. God is up to something but it won’t be through the religious elites, Annas and Caiphas.  

With each and every name Luke announces he not only establishes a timeline to set up the time of John and Jesus, but Luke announces the mighty and powerful leaders of their time and then sets them aside.   And with the world’s greatest economic, social, and political leaders aside, Luke tells us that the word of God came to a man named John. Not an emperor, not a governor or king..not a religious leader. Just John, son of Zechariah...king of the wilderness.

God’s goinna turn this whole world upside down.   God’s word...God’s word incarnate...comes in complete opposition to the world’s expectations.  To a wild man in the wilderness...a lowly guy named John, the word of God comes forth as a voice in the wilderness, crying out, “prepare the way of the lord” proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins. 

Do you see what God does?  And honestly, as people who know the complete story it should come as no surprise, but God is flipping the script.  Turning the world upside down. Dismissing human expectations and understandings of power. 

God breaks forth not in the mighty and their thrones, but in the lowest, smallest, most unexpected way.  In fact, it is out of the wilderness, the very place that represents wandering, doubt, darkness, and uncertainty, that’s the place that the word of God shows up.  

That’s where the word of God prevails.  Not in the rich, mighty, and powerful. But in the damp, dark, dirty wilderness...God is up to something. God’s goinna turn this whole world upside down.

Luke makes it a point to tell us that God shows up in the most unexpected, counter-cultural way. The fact of the matter is that the systems of power in place in the world will crumble at the presence of God.  God will humble everything that is proud and self-satisfied. God will cast the mighty down from their thrones and uplift the lowly. Out of the wilderness, God is up to something. 

And whether we like it or not...whether we admit it or not...this upside down turning of the world is what we wait and long for in the season of Advent.   It’s what we hope for. It’s what we pray for. It’s what the world is desperate for.

A savior who turns the world upside down.  Who actively seeks out the outcast, poor, lost, lame, and last.  A savior that proclaims good news to the oppressed and sets the captives free.   A savior who challenges and opposes the systems and cycles of power still rampant today.  A savior who confronts any and all abuse of power and restores justice. A savior who flips the script, restores right relationship, and calls forth all of creation to be made new. 

As you most of you know, I have a 4 month old son, Bennet.  And raising Bennet is a learning curve that I know many of you can attest to.  Well, he recently learned a new trick. He has learned how to roll over onto his stomach.  But...and I think this is the important part...he doesn’t know how to roll back over. 

So while it may be cute and adorable at 3 in the afternoon to watch Bennet roll over on his play mat...it is less than cute at 3am ...and 4am..and 5am...when he rolls himself onto his stomach and then screams because he’s stuck.  He finds such joy in his new ability, but it ultimately leaves him stuck, annoyed, and lost.

The world is just like Bennet.  Infatuated with our abilities, our human-made structures and systems, enamored by power and status.  Humankind is wading in sin, wandering in the darkness...stuck and lost from our ways. Screaming out for a savior.

Two nights ago, in the span of 8 hours...Sarah and I responded to Bennet’s screams for help 10 times.  10 times in 8 hours we awoke to him rolled over..stuck, annoyed, and lost. And each time, we crept into his bedroom, gently turned him over, reminded him that he is ok and he is loved, and then soothed him back to sleep...knowing good and well he’d do it again.

God’s goinna turn this whole world upside down.  That’s how God is with us. In the time of John the Baptist and Jesus, the world had lost its way.  Humankind was living for their own sake. 

The emperor Tiberius, the Governor Herod...the religious and political leaders and officials… they lived for their own benefit.  For their own wealth. They thrived on systems of power the abused relationships, discarded other human beings, neglected the sick, poor, oppressed, lost, last, and lonely.  The world was stuck in sin. Screaming in the night for someone to come and save.

And God did just that.  God became incarnate, took on human flesh to be among us.  God’s word came out of the wilderness...the very place of wandering, doubt, despair, and darkness.  And God’s word spoke. Calling all people into repentance for the forgiveness of sins. Sins that got us stuck in the first place.  

Repentance, by its very definition is to turn around...to turn away from harmful, corrupting, and indulging sin...and turn to God.  A complete 180.

And God, gracious and abounding in steadfast love responds every time to our cry.  God’s gonna turn this whole world upside down..

The good news my friends is that God is still up to something.  God is still active. God is still the one meeting us in the darkest wildernesses of our lives and proclaiming a word of hope.  God is still moving among us. God is still calling us to repentance and forgiving our sins. God promises to always be present.  And God promises to turn this world upside down….or perhaps...right side up.

So, I suppose the question is: Do you ever stop, pray, listen, and wonder...what is God up to?  Where is God moving and stirring? Where in life do you find yourself in the wilderness? In the dark, desperate, and despairing places?   Do you cry out to God? Is God responding? 

And if so, is it making you uncomfortable?  Unsettling your foundation? Is God moving in a way that challenges you to evaluate and reexamine your life?  Is God turning your world upside down?

Amen. 

© Pastor Daniel Locke, preached 12.08.2018 @ St. Mark's Lutheran JAX, FL

Small seed to mighty bush - Sermon on Mark 4:26-34 - 06.24.2018

Listen to the gospel and sermon here.

GOSPEL: Mark 4:26-34

[Jesus] said, “The kingdom of God is as if someone would scatter seed on the ground,27and would sleep and rise night and day, and the seed would sprout and grow, he does not know how. 28The earth produces of itself, first the stalk, then the head, then the full grain in the head. 29But when the grain is ripe, at once he goes in with his sickle, because the harvest has come.”  30He also said, “With what can we compare the kingdom of God, or what parable will we use for it? 31It is like a mustard seed, which, when sown upon the ground, is the smallest of all the seeds on earth; 32yet when it is sown it grows up and becomes the greatest of all shrubs, and puts forth large branches, so that the birds of the air can make nests in its shade.” 33With many such parables he spoke the word to them, as they were able to hear it; 34he did not speak to them except in parables, but he explained everything in private to his disciples.

With what can we compare the kingdom of God, or what parable will we use for it?  In the 4th chapter of Mark, Jesus is in parable mode. He is fresh into his public ministry.  After resisting temptation in the wilderness, Jesus wastes no time taking to the streets to heal and teach.  The author of Mark’s gospel is eager to place Jesus in the public eye. Prior to today’s gospel reading Jesus has offered healings on multiple occasions, even on the Sabbath.  He has dined with sinners and driven out unclean spirits. His actions have ruffled the feathers of religious leaders. His own family even raises a stink and calls him out of his mind.

As baptised Christians reading back we can appreciate Jesus who heals the paralyzed, eats with the unclean and unwanted.  Jesus who speaks with authority and challenges authority. Jesus who embodies empathy and compassion for the least and the forgotten.  We know who Jesus is and what he is up to. We’re privy to the entire story. 

But for the crowds of Jesus’ day who gather around him, they flock with intrigue and curiosity, not really knowing what Jesus is all about.    They surround him with wonder and awe. And whether they’re supportive and empowered by this new radical, challenging, inclusive dude, or they are weary, hesitant, and fearful of his influence...they flock.  They gather. The surround him to see what’s going on.

In all of Jesus’ actions thus far he has shown what the kingdom of God looks like.  So the people have gathered, and now Jesus will use parables to teach them what life in God’s family looks like.   

With what can we compare the kingdom of God, or what parable will we use for it?  Jesus says, “The kingdom of God is as if someone would scatter seed on the ground, and would sleep and rise night and day, and the seed would sprout and grow, he does not know how.  

The kingdom of God is like a mustard seed, which, when sown upon the ground, is the smallest of all the seeds on earth; yet when it is sown it grows up and becomes the greatest of all shrubs, and puts forth large branches, so that the birds of the air can make nests in its shade.

Now I think it’s worth emphasizing that for the majority of the crowd that has gathered, the notion of God’s kingdom is not something of which they are well versed.  In fact, perhaps their best understanding of kingdom is limited to their experience with the roman empire and the jewish authorities. For them a kingdom was big and strong.  It was paved walkways with pillars, large stone structures. Rome’s kingdom was fortified and strong. It was wealth and status. It was militarized and political. 

And although the people surrounding Jesus may not have encountered Romans on a daily basis, they were certainly aware of Rome’s influence, persuasion, and power.  The kingdom, it would seem was impenetrable and solid. It was sturdy and stable. It was not to be messed with.

And so, in the shadow of this fierce empire, the kingdom of rule at the time, Jesus unsuspectingly comes from nowhere to stir up the crowds with intrigue.  And he proposes a different kingdom. 

This one, God’s kingdom…is like a seed.  Not just any seed. A small seed. The smallest seed, in fact.  For Jesus, God’s new kingdom would be a seed sown upon the ground….oh and when it grows….it would grow into the mightiest and greatest shrub of all shrubs.

For the longest time I had this child-like sentimental understanding of the mustard seed.  Jesus uses the mustard seed on several different occasions to talk about both faith and the kingdom.  And Growing up I remember children's’ sermons in which the pastor would show us the small seed in a jar and talk about how this tiny seed will grow into something mighty.  Something established and fruitful. As a kid I had no problem imagining such a transformation. And the connection to God working in the same was somewhat easy to see.

But as I’ve grown older something about this parable seems incredibly off.  In the shadow of the mighty kingdom that people are familiar with, Jesus proposes just about the exact opposite.  The mustard seed was far less than mighty, and Jesus implies that this tiny seed will yield a Kingdom...but the mustard seed doesn’t grow into a mighty tree like we might anticipate in Jesus’ parable.  No, the mustard seed yields a shrub. Albeit and impressive shrub. But a shrub none-the-less

I don’t know, but it feels a bit detrimental to Jesus’ point to pitch the kingdom of the almighty God as a tiny seed the grows into a mighty shrub, doesn’t it?

With what can we compare the kingdom of God?  So maybe Jesus’ illustration of the shrubby kingdom isn’t necessarily about its size and strength.  Perhaps there is something specific, unique, vital even about the mustard seed that teaches a valuable lesson about the Kingdom of God. 

What’s really interesting about the mustard seed isn’t necessarily its size, but its ability to grow.  The plant grows fast. Out of something small the plant quickly expands beyond its initial planting. The mustard plant grows rapidly and produces thousands more seeds.  And when those seeds hit the ground they germinate almost immediately. The mustard seed often spouts earlier than most seeds and requires less water than others. And something we don’t often know or think about is that in many countries the mustard plant is considered a weed.  Does that throw anyone off? The kingdom of God is like a tiny weed?

We experience weeds as a nuisance.   Ugly, relentless plants, vines, or greens that terrorize our gardens or yards.  Despite our every effort to rid ourselves of the weeds, they always seem to grow back.  Our experience with weeds make the idea of God’s kingdom being a weed a bit distasteful.

With what can we compare the kingdom of God? A small seed that grows into a weedy bush? I suspect that Jesus is actually very intentional in his usage of a mustard seed to describe the kingdom of God.

Much like a mustard seed, small and humbly planted, the breaking in of the Kingdom of God begins with Jesus.  God’s salvific plan planted among us in a tiny baby boy. 

And Much like a mustard seed, the kingdom of God will grow.  Quickly. Rapidly. It will spread. Like an invasive and relentless weed, the kingdom of God will grow.  It will grow into an impressive shrub that will produce a thousand more seeds just like it. Those too will grow.  Despite our every effort to impede the progress of the kingdom, it will grow.

As a new homeowner, I have the pleasure of mowing my own yard.  I recently got a lawn mower and about once a week I trek it around my yard to cut the grass.  I also pull out the weed eater and edge the driveway. Sometimes I even have pull climbing vines off the side of my house.  In the end it's some satisfying work. 

But what drives me crazy everytime is when I back the car out of my driveway, despite how beautiful my yard may look...I always notice the daggum weeds growing between the cracks of my concrete.  Between two poured concrete slabs...weeds find a way to break through. It’s obnoxious. Anybody know what I’m talking about?

What’s really remarkable about these weeds is not necessarily their ability to never die...or their perseverance to find the surface...but if left alone, these weeds have the power to put cracks in my driveway.  To unsettle my foundation. They can be incredibly disruptive. Seeking life even among, through, around, and in between the hardest and darkest places. Persevering through all adversity.

And if that’s true, them maybe it isn’t much of a stretch to think about the kingdom of God as a weed.  A kingdom that seeks life, especially among, through, around and in between the hardest of hearts and the darkest of places.  God’s kingdom that perseveres and not only survives but sets the mark for how every seed after it is to live.

Jesus isn’t naive and uninformed.  I think he knows good and well what he’s saying.  

The kingdom of God is completely contrary to the kingdom of his time.  The kingdom of God is not one of wealth, status and strength. 

It is one of humility, equality, equity, and love.  

The kingdom of God is not one of persuasion, deceitful influence, or personal ambition. 

It is on one community, equity, mutuality, support, and care.  

The kingdom is not fortified and impenetrable.  

It is humble, open, welcoming, inclusive, and empowering.  

The kingdom of God isn’t one that battles the earthy kingdoms toe to toe.  

No, God’s kingdom cracks the very foundations on which our earthly kingdoms rest.  Despite every effort to subdue it.

With what can we compare the kingdom of God?  A small, unsuspecting, mustard seed, which, when sown upon the ground, grows up and becomes the greatest of all shrubs, and puts forth large branches, and most importantly, it offers life. Like the the birds of the air making their nests in its shade...the kingdom of God is one of life. 

And the good news my friends, is that it never stops growing.  God’s kingdom is invasive in the best way. 

It grows in all the places we wish it didn’t.  

It unsettles our foundation.  

It nudges us and makes us move.  

It calls us to speak out against earthy kingdoms.  

To fester in the cracks of powerful systems.  

To always be seeking life.  

Make no mistake, God’s kingdom is powerful...just not the same kind of power the world would have us to believe.   

It’s the power to choose love above all else.  God’s kingdom will find a way in. 

And it is always for the better.  

It does not, can not, and will not stop growing.  

Hard as we might try to stand in its way, build on top of it, divert it, rip it apart, or ignore it.  

Even on our darkest days as a humanity, the kingdom of God prevails.  

With what can we compare the kingdom of God?  

That’s something to think about today when you pray, “Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as is in heaven.”

Amen. 

Reign of Christ Sermon - Matthew 25: 31-46

Matthew 25:31-46

“When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, then he will sit on the throne of his glory. All the nations will be gathered before him, and he will separate people one from another as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats, and he will put the sheep at his right hand and the goats at the left. Then the king will say to those at his right hand, ‘Come, you that are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world; for I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me.’ Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry and gave you food, or thirsty and gave you something to drink? And when was it that we saw you a stranger and welcomed you, or naked and gave you clothing? And when was it that we saw you sick or in prison and visited you?’ And the king will answer them, ‘Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me.’ Then he will say to those at his left hand, ‘You that are accursed, depart from me into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels; for I was hungry and you gave me no food, I was thirsty and you gave me nothing to drink, I was a stranger and you did not welcome me, naked and you did not give me clothing, sick and in prison and you did not visit me.’ Then they also will answer, ‘Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or sick or in prison, and did not take care of you?’ Then he will answer them, ‘Truly I tell you, just as you did not do it to one of the least of these, you did not do it to me.’  And these will go away into eternal punishment, but the righteous into eternal life.”

There is a popular expression of faith.  Although it is credited to Francis of Assisi, its origins are a bit unknown. Regardless, it resonates with today’s Gospel text.  It goes, “Proclaim the Gospel, and when necessary use words.” I suppose it sounds similar to present day quips such as “you can talk the talk, but can you walk the walk,” or “actions speak louder than words.” Personally, I’m more fond of the former “proclaim the Gospel, and when necessary use words.”

To be clear the intention of the expression is not to diminish the use of words or dismiss the inherent oral nature of the gospel message, but rather the intention is to highlight the interconnectedness of proclamation and action.  Word and deed. Theses two expressions of the Gospel go hand-in-hand, inseparable present-day manifestations of the good news in Jesus Christ’s death and resurrection.  

Not as a choice, but as an embodiment of our discipleship.  An instinct of our Christian nature. A stitch in the fabric that is the body of Christ DNA.   Proclaiming the Gospel, and when necessary using words.

Today marks the end of our liturgical calendar.  The end of the church year.  And so on this final Sunday of the church year, as we transition into Advent and new beginning we hear Jesus in his final public teaching moment with the Disciples. It is perhaps the perfect bookend to his public teaching ministry.

Recall that 20 chapters ago he began with the Beatitudes a world-turning, expectation-flipping assessment on the kingdom of God, in which the meak, poor, lonely, and lost inherit the Kingdom of God.  He goes on for another 10 chapters talking about the Kingdom teaching in parables, and preaching to the disciples and the crowds.

In chapter 16, after a decisive moment when Jesus asked Peter, “who do you say that I am?”  The text tells us “From that time on, Jesus began to show his disciples that he must go to Jerusalem to be killed and raised.”  From that time on he began to show.

It is not purely coincidence that Jesus spent his entire ministry both proclaiming and showing in action the good news of the Kingdom of God come near.  I don’t think either that is is purely coincidence that Matthew’s account of Jesus has him teaching for the last time about the interconnectedness of word and deed.   The humble, instinctive, and intuitive nature of doing to the least of these as Jesus did.

In Matthew’s account of the Gospel, there are more than 50 references to the kingdom.  The majority of which come from Jesus in coordination with a healing, parable, miracle, or a teaching moment.  

Central to Jesus in the Gospel of Matthew is the presence of the Kingdom.  A reign of God in Jesus Christ.  The embodiment of love, mercy, and grace in Jesus Christ the King.   

When Christ cleanses a Leper, heals a hemorrhaging woman, and restores site to the blind he proclaims the arrival of God’s kingdom in both word and deed.  

When Jesus sits to eat with a tax collector and associates with despised members of society, Jesus proclaims the arrival of God’s kingdom in both word and deed.  

When Jesus feeds 5000 and 4000 on a hillside, breaks bread with disciples, and offers living water to the woman at the well he proclaims the arrival of God’s kingdom in both word and deed.

When Jesus advocates for the oppressed, teaches about wheat, seeds, and yeast, and walks on water he is proclaiming the arrival of God’s kingdom in word and deed.

The correlation between faithful proclamation and humble service for Jesus, and for Matthew is no coincidence.  And furthermore the presence of the Kingdom of God within both word and deed is no coincidence.  

Now look brothers and sister I know that the word and deed sermon isn’t likely a new concept.  I’m sure many of us have heard the talk the talk and walk the walk sermon.  Most of us are familiar with this text and its implications.  Never-the-less, today’s text on this Reign of Christ Sunday is a significant and intentional text for on the final Sunday in the church year.  Beyond its familiarity, Jesus offers his disciples, the crowds, and us an important reminder of the nature of the Kingdom of God.  

‘Come, you that are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world; for I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me.’

Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry and gave you food, or thirsty and gave you something to drink? And when was it that we saw you a stranger and welcomed you, or naked and gave you clothing? And when was it that we saw you sick or in prison and visited you?’

And the king will answer them, ‘Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me.’

I invite you to hear today’s text and message not as conviction but rather as a reminder, an affirmation of your participation in the kingdom. To help, I offer two insights:

First, may we not get caught up on the “otherness”... wondering who are the least of these.  I think too often we subconsciously determine who is the “the least of these.”  This determination impacts our ability or willingness to act.   We might identify the least among us by some set of unfair or unnecessary criteria.  Limiting our care for neighbors and others by some condition of “leastness”  

Rather may our focus be on the action themselves, regardless of the recipient. Perhaps Jesus’ teaching today is not so much about determining who the least are, and who is need of care, but rather the acts of compassion and care we carry out in the name of Jesus.  The feeding through programs like UCOM and foodbanks, the welcoming of family promise, the caring of our home-bound and shut-in members, and the visiting of those in need of a familiar face or a safe smile.  Acting in Jesus’ name as Thomas Merton says, “to love others, the sick hungry, thirsty, stranger, oppressed, naked...without stooping to inquire whether or not they are worthy.

Second, may we not get caught up simply on the actions themselves.  The works in Jesus’ name.  

After all neither the sheep nor the goats in today’s teaching realize that they have done anything good.  “Lord when was it that we saw you hungry and gave you food, or thirsty and gave you something to drink? And when was it that we saw you a stranger and welcomed you, or naked and gave you clothing? And when was it that we saw you sick or in prison and visited you?’ The sheep and goats seem to share and ignorance in their response.  They are surprised by their fate.

So rather than focusing on the actions themselves...to help or not to thelp, may today’s text be a reminder that caring for others, regardless of worthiness is part of our very nature.  It’s intuitive to who and whose we are.

It comes naturally, perhaps subconsciously to those who have been washed by God’s grace.

Like a good tree producing good fruit, it is the very nature of the body of Christ to proclaim the arrival of God’s kingdom in word and deed.

Brothers and sisters the good news this Christ the king Sunday, is that Jesus Christ proclaimed the kingdom of God come near, and showed the world again and again the goodness of God’s grace by

dining with sinners, forgiving aggressors, clothing the naked, feeding the hungry, healing the sick, grieving with the bereaved, dying on a cross and rising again.  

And friends may there be no better news than the fact that through our baptism God has claimed us as children of God.  Sheep in God’s flock.  We are woven into the fabric of the body of Christ and we are gifted each and every day with the gospel message of Jesus the King. A king who reigns in the messiness of life.   Who shines light in a dark world and guides our paths.  Jesus who is the center all that we say, and do not because Jesus intrudes our life, but rather washed in the water we exude the resurrected promise of everlasting life.

So as we transition into a new church year, a new calendar year, a new church season...as we change the colors, decorations…The hymns and texts.. May Christ always and forever remain at the center…empowering us to do and say as Christ.  To proclaim the gospel message that Christ the King, Emmanuel and Messiah, Lord of Lords, mighty God, prince of peace has begun his reign. Halleluiah.  

© Pastor Daniel Locke Nov. 19, 2017 @ St. Mark's JAX