Sermons and thoughts on faith on Scripture from my time at Old Presbyterian Meeting House and Falls Church Presbyterian Church, plus sermons and postings from "Pastor James," my blog while pastor at Boulevard Presbyterian in Columbus, OH.
In today's gospel, Jesus journeys to his hometown and teaches in the synagogue on the Sabbath. At first the people are astounded at the words he speaks and the deeds he performs. But then they recall that they know Jesus. He's the carpenter, son of Mary and brother to James, Joses, Judas, Simon, and some unnamed sisters. "And they took offense at him. "
As we get to know people, we come to recognize certain patterns in their behavior and we have expectations of them. Hence we can sometimes say of someone, "She's just not herself today," meaning that she isn't acting in ways that conform to our expectations. And when Jesus returns to his hometown following his baptism and beginnings his ministry, he no longer fits into the categories and expectations his old neighbors have of him. They simply cannot make sense of this Jesus. They cannot fit what they see and hear into their previous understanding of who he is. And so they cannot accept or embrace him.
Most of us have small encounters of this sort from time to time. A friend or loved one surprises us, and we struggle to accept this part of them we've not seen or noticed before. Sometimes friendship, and even marriages, come to an end when someone cannot accept the "change" in the other.
Many of us also grow up and develop notions of who God is and how God should act. And quite often, Jesus surprises us and violates those expectations. At times I've wondered how often I may have missed God in my life because God came to me in ways I didn't expect.
I take it as an absolute given that God is far beyond our comprehension, and therefore much bigger than any of our expectations for how God should be or act. And so I suppose we should all expect to be surprised from time to time.
I've always liked the story in today's gospel reading. Jesus is headed to the home of a religious leader to heal his daughter when a woman who has suffered from hemorrhages for twelve years touches him. She hopes to be healed without being noticed. Presumably she worries that people know she is "unclean" because of her illness. But Jesus doesn't let her remain anonymous. He realizes he has been touched, that healing power has gone out, and he seeks the woman out.
This frightens the woman but it need not. Jesus blesses what she has done, calling her "Daughter." The term has real significance. Her disease has not only impoverished her, her "unclean" status has cut her off from community. But Jesus designates her "Daughter," a member of the household. She has not only been healed, she has been restored to her place in the community, in the family.
In that sense her healing echoes what happens with Jarius, the synagogue leader. There a daughter is also restored, and a family is made whole. In one case it is an important leader in the community; in the other it is an unnamed, poor, unclean woman. But in both cases Jesus sets right and restores.
It is interesting how harsh and demanding religion, including my own notion of it, can sometimes seem. Yet surely we get terribly off track when we forget that first and foremost, Jesus came to restore, to heal, to make whole. And Jesus offered this healing and restoration freely to all. Oh that we all could have the heart of Jesus.
We tend to think that if it's free, it's not worth anything. But the prophet calls exiles, and us, to come, buy food without money. Can we really trust ourselves to something we don't earn or deserve, to God's love offered as free gift?
When I was twelve years old, my family moved out to “the country,” as we called it.It was old family land that had once been a farm.It had not been farmed in decades, but once we moved out there we were able to put up a fence so we could have horses.And we didn’t just have horses.We also had a pair of donkeys named Angelo and Annabelle.
Now how it was we acquired these donkeys probably qualifies as one of those “It seemed like a good idea at the time,” moments.Somehow my father had found out about an elderly woman who had seven or eight of them.I think she was moving into a retirement home, and so she was trying to find good homes for her pets.We took two.
We tried to ride them a few times, but that was generally a disaster.They either just sat there or they threw you off.And so they were little more than novelties or conversation pieces.They weren’t really good for anything.Well, they could bray so loudly that you could hear them for miles.And they were quite good at escaping.
Our horses would occasionally get out, but they would normally just eat the grass on the other side of the fence.The donkeys, on the other hand, would go on excursions.I bet I’m the only who got pulled out of school to go home to help catch the donkeys who were trotting down the road and startling drivers.
At some point the novelty wore off and we decided we should get rid of the donkeys.Now it was our turn to find them a good home.We told everybody and anybody that we were giving away donkeys.I think we even put an ad in the paper, but no takers.At some point, after trying to give them away for years, my parents decided to run a classified ad offering them for sale.They asked something like twenty-five dollars a piece for them, but you could get a deal and buy both for forty.
We had been trying to give them away for years, but they sold on the very first day the ad ran.And we got calls for a week from others interested in buying them.When they found out the donkeys had already been sold, some wanted to know if they’d been picked up yet, offering to pay us more than the advertised price if they could have them.Who would have ever thought it?A bidding war for our worthless donkeys.
Many of us have an innate suspicion that if something is free, it’s not worth anything.If we don’t have to earn it or pay for it, something is wrong.“There’s no free lunch,” goes the old saying.And yet, in our scripture for this morning the prophet shouts, You that have no money, come, buy and eat!Come, buy wine and milk without money and without price.
These words are originally addressed to exiles in Babylon.The Babylonians had destroyed Jerusalem and carried its people into exile some fifty years earlier. The Hebrews struggled to understand what it meant for God’s people to be defeated in such a manner.Were Babylon’s gods more powerful?Had Yahweh abandoned them?Was this their punishment for not living as God had called them to live?But now, after a half century of exile, the prophet begins to speak of rescue and restoration.God has not abandoned them.God is more powerful than Babylon.Draw near to Yahweh who is about to work salvation for Israel.
The image the prophet uses is that of the marketplace.If you’ve ever been to a third world country, you’ve likely seen something similar to what Isaiah has in mind.Vendors hawk their wares, vying for people’s attention.They call out, “Yo, look what I have.Wouldn’t you like some of these?”The market bustles as the vendors shout and buyers haggle over price.
But one vendor says, “Ho, look here.”You that have no money, come, buy and eat!Come, buy wine and milk without money and without price.Why do you spend your money for that which is not bread, and your labor for that which does not satisfy?
Now many of us have limited experience with markets of the sort Isaiah has in mind, but we know all about marketing and vendors hawking their wares.They assail us on our televisions, in the movie theater, in papers and magazines, and on our computer screens.“Ho, look here!Look at this!Can’t you see how cool or popular or happy this will make you?You know you have to have it.”
And we get caught up in the songs of the market.Yes, we do want that.Oh, yes, that will make us happy and popular; it will keep us from looking old; it will satisfy our longings and fill our insecurities.
But in the midst of all the songs of the market, one rings out a bit off key.“Ho, look here!I have what you really need, what will feed your deepest hungers and give you life at its fullest.And it is all free.Come, you with no money or you with a lot.Come, whoever you are.”
– But if it’s free, surely it’s not worth anything.
We Presbyterians, indeed most Protestants, speak of being put right with God by grace, a free gift from God.God offers us full and abundant life in Jesus, and it’s all free.But even thought we speak of grace, even though we sing of Amazing Grace, we don’t trust free gifts.If it’s really free, if people a lot worse than us can just get it, that doesn’t sound right.And so we turn it into something we deserve.We say that we get God’s grace if we believe the right things.We turn faith into the thing we do to get God’s love. Or we simply forget about grace altogether and say God loves us if we keep the rules and are good enough.
In case you haven’t noticed, I happen to be a man, male in gender, and I share a problem with some other males; I’m not all that good at relationships.That can be a problem in general, but it is also a faith problem.I’m pretty good at studying the Bible and figuring out what it might mean, but having a relationship with God is something else.Having a deep, intimate relationship with God means realizing and trusting how much God loves me, a love that is like that of a mother or a father, freely given without strings attached, a love that desires only the best for me, that longs for me to sense that love and come to it.But I keep making faith about figuring out the intricacies of the Bible or plumbing the depths of the most difficult theological concepts… my own version of being good enough.
But Jesus says, Come to me, all you that are weary and carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest.Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.
And in the midst of all the clamoring voices of our age that claim to have the answer or the product or the possession that will make us happy, fulfilled and content, a voice cries out. “Ho, look here.”Everyone who thirsts come to the water.You that have no money, come, buy and eat!Come, buy wine and milk without money and without price.
Come to the table, whoever you are.Find here God’s grace poured out for all, God’s love that embraces you, that longs for you, simply because God loves you.
I am prone to associate God with the big and the grand, but in today's gospel reading, Jesus says that the kingdom, God's coming rule, is like a tiny mustard seed from which grows a large plant. Actually Jesus twice speaks of the kingdom as being like seeds, and I can't help wondering about the small things around us that are seeds of the kingdom, even if they look little like the kingdom in its final form.
I also wonder about all the opportunities that I have, that we all have, to scatter seed. Any time we do not stand by silently in the face of injustice, any time we act in ways that help others even though there is no personal benefit for ourselves, any time we return kindness when we have been hurt or wronged, any time we choose to love someone we would rather hate, another seed of the kingdom falls to the earth.
Such acts may seem far too small and insignificant to make any difference in the world, and on their own this is likely true. But when God waters and gives growth to these seeds...
You've probably seen the bumper sticker urging people to "Practice random acts of kindness and senseless acts of beauty." I think Jesus would smile at this bumper sticker. Random and senseless speak to something without much seemingly practical purpose, and the tiny seeds of the kingdom can seem quite impractical, in no way a match for all that is broken, hurting, and oppressive in our world. But Jesus says the kingdom begins in just such impractical ways.
The LORD is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear? The LORD is the stronghold of my life; of whom shall I be afraid?
I've been away for almost a week, on vacation in Miami. While there I did something I've almost never done. I read a book while sitting on the beach. I usually spend any beach time playing in the waves, but the water was a bit chilly, so I read. And the book I had brought was The Shack, by Wm. Paul Young.
I know that I came to the party a bit late on this one. A lot of you probably read it some time ago, but I had not gotten around to it. The beach provided a perfect opportunity however, and once I started it I had a hard time putting it down.
Something about Mack, the main character in the book, resonated with me, and I found his experiences at the shack very illuminating. Through them he moved from knowing a lot about God (or at least thinking he knew a lot about God) to developing a relationship with God that allowed him to entrust himself fully to God's care.
For me, trust and faith are often fairly mechanical things. I believe them on a certain level and even act on those beliefs at times. But I'm not sure I would usually describe my faith in terms of relationship and intimacy with God, and watching Mack journey toward intimacy with God was very moving to me.
I think I will always be a theologian at heart, and so I mean no slight to theologians or theology by this. But I wonder if I could sometimes do with a bit less theologizing and a bit more relating. I wonder if I don't need to spend less time considering and contemplating God, and more time connecting to God. And I also wonder exactly how I go about that.
Give ear to my words, O LORD; give heed to my sighing. Listen to the sound of my cry, my King and my God, for to you I pray.
This plea from the opening of Psalm 5 is a common one amongst the Psalms. Often the Psalms speak from the experience of suffering and of feeling abandoned by God. Sometimes they can be quite strident in demanding that God act according to God's character, to stop the wicked from prospering and the righteous from suffering. It is not at all uncommon for a psalmist to call God to task.
I have those moments, more than I'd like to admit, when God seems distant or absent altogether. But I don't often react emotionally toward God. I rarely shake my fist at God or demand that God act as God should act. Perhaps that is because I am such a thoroughly modern person. God does not seem that involved in day to day life. I don't need God for the sun to shine or the rain to fall. God is so distant from much of life that it almost seems normal for God to be distant in my own life.
It is hard to get angry at someone who doesn't have a lot to do with your world and your life. I can believe in God without really expecting anything of God. But it is hard to be in relationship with a God who isn't real enough to shake a fist at or say a "Thank you" to.
The Old Testament readings are following the story of Joseph this week. Many of us know about Joseph being sold into slavery by his brothers who then told their father that a wild animal had killed him. But of course God will eventually use Joseph to rescue not only his own family but also all of Egypt.
Because Joseph is the "hero" in this cycle of stories, it is easy to forget what a pain in the rear he was. He was a spoiled brat who got special treatment from his father. The dreams he had about his family, and even his father, bowing down to him turn out to be true. But Joseph seemed to relish sharing these dreams with his kin. I have a feeling that Joseph was an easy fellow to hate.
Funny how God's promiseoften moves forward through less than savory characters. Jacob, Joseph's father, is a cheat and a scoundrel, but God's promise runs through him.
The world is full of people I think are scoundrels. It is full of folks who are spoiled and whom I find easy to dislike. But in the Bible, God is often at work in the strangest places and through the oddest folks. I wonder where God is at work that I never notice because I'm sure God would never be associated with...
Mark's gospel doesn't bother with any stories about Jesus' birth or anything leading up to it. He simply dives right in with John the baptizer. But before he tells of John's "baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins," he does provide the briefest of introductions. "The beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God."
For Mark, the good news begins with John calling people to repent. Many of us tend to connect repentance to fire and brimstone evangelists preaching hellfire and damnation sermons meant to scare people into accepting Jesus. But biblically speaking repentance isn't so much about fear. It is about a change of direction when you realize you're on the wrong path. Repentance is when you have become terribly lost while driving somewhere, and then you see a sign that shows you the way; you turn and head for your destination.
Too often we Christians want to relegate repentance to the season of Lent. Repentance is not a part of our day to day faith walk. We'll admit that we've gotten off the path now and then, but we don't like to admit that we need constant help staying on course. We don't like to admit that we have a fundamental problem that tends to get us lost.
I've often heard people in congregations complain about having a "prayer of confession" in worship each week. "They're such a downer," they say. But I think of the prayer of confession used in Presbyterian worship a little like what happens at a weekly AA meeting. It's our version of, "Hi, I'm Joe and I'm an alcoholic." It's how we say to each other, "Hi, I'm Joe and I'm a sinner."
Recovering alcoholics don't think of this regular admission as depressing. In fact, it is what allows them to continue on their new, clean and sober lives. It is the self awareness that keeps them coming to meetings, that helps them lean on the help of fellow alcoholics and on God to say sober.
The beginning of the good news: Hi, I'm James, and I'm a sinner. On my own I keep making bad choices and getting lost. God, help me go where you want me to go.
When Jesus is tempted in the wilderness, there is no question about whether he is Son of God. The question is what sort of Son he will be. So too for us, the question is what sort of children of God we will be.
Back in my high school days, I wrestled on a team that was a perennial power.We usually vied for the conference title and sent a number of wrestlers to the state championship.I have a lot of memories from those days: an inexperienced teammate’s win that turned a match in our favor, celebrations after big wins, and grueling practices where I would often sweat away six or seven pounds in two and a half hours.
But I think the most vivid memory of a practice comes from my first year on the team.We had lost a match the night before to a team we should have beaten.Our coach was as tough and hard-nosed as they come, and no one was looking forward to practice that day.
But rather than being all worked up and animated, Coach was calm and serene.He didn’t yell or scream at us to work harder; quite the opposite.He calmly told us to work only as hard as we felt like.Some of our opening exercises were normally done to the point of exhaustion, but this day Coach told us to stop as soon as they became difficult.When we moved on to the drills we did each practice he said, “Now if you get tired, stop.”
Of course this worked precisely as he hoped.Everyone gave absolutely everything he had, even as Coach kept urging us to take it easy, not to overdo it or strain ourselves.It’s funny how much you can wish for your coach to be yelling at you when he’s not.
Finally, and I suppose rather predictably, the moment came when things turned.Coach acknowledged the effort everyone was giving and said, “Well if you really want to practice hard, we’ll practice hard.If you really want to be champions, we’ll practice like champions.”What followed was the hardest practice I had ever experienced.But no one seemed to mind.After all, we certainly wanted to be champions.
There was never really a question about that.There was absolutely no chance that anyone would respond to Coach’s “If you want to be a champions…” with a “Nah, that’s okay.We don’t want to be champions.We just like saying we’re on a sports team.”
Many times when someone starts a sentence with, “If you…” that “if” is not really in question.“If you love me… If you really want this job… If you want to graduate… If you want to succeed… If you’re really a Buckeye fan…” Often such statements don’t really question whether the person wants the job or is a Buckeye fan.They presume that “if” part to be true.What is really at issue is how someone who is a Buckeye fan will act or what someone who wants to graduate should do.Even in a patently manipulative statement like “If you love…” the person speaking presumes the other’s love.There would be no chance to manipulate them if that were not the case.
And that’s the situation in the temptations Jesus faces in the wilderness.When the devil says, “If you are the Son of God…” there is no doubt as to Jesus’ identity.That is even more apparent in the original Greek of Luke’s gospel.There is a grammatical structure used here that we don’t really have in English, and you could even translate the devil’s words, “Since you are the Son of God…”
And so the issue in our reading is not who Jesus is, but rather what it means to be Son of God.It is easy to picture these events in rather cartoonish fashion, with a horned devil issuing challenges to Jesus.But Luke clearly understands these temptations to be very real for Jesus.They reflect his struggle to be the Son of God that God would have him be rather than the Son of God that religious people expected, that his followers hoped he would be, that his own desires and fears pushed him to be.And it doesn’t stop here.At the end of our reading, the devil departs “until an opportune time.”In Gethsemane, Jesus will struggle with whether or not he can be the Son of God who trusts God’s will so fully that he can face the cross.
These temptations are things Jesus actually considered. And are they really so bad?Why not turn stones to bread.Palestine is a terribly rocky place.Why not turn lots of stones into bread and feed not just himself but all those hungry people?And why not make a deal with the devil and seize political power?The Bible in other places speaks of Satan as the ruler of this world.Why not acknowledge that if it would mean an end to Roman oppression, an end to military conquests, an end to war?And why not jump from the pinnacle of the Temple and touch down softly in its courtyard, held up by heavenly angels?Lord knows that when I’m struggling to stay faithful I’d love for Jesus to pull a divine magic trick like that and make trusting him a lot easier.
What is it that makes Jesus Son of God?Is it simply an identity he is born with, and there is no changing it?If Jesus had become a military Messiah and defeated the Romans would he still have been the Son of God?If Jesus had gotten cold feet in the Garden of Gethsemane and escaped the cross, would he still have been the Son of God?Or does the fact that he is Son of God preclude him from doing that?
And what if we ask similar questions about ourselves?People often want to claim that all humans are “children of God.”If that is true, what does it mean?From a Christian perspective, we say that in our baptisms we are adopted and claimed by God, becoming sisters and brothers of Jesus and therefore God’s children.But what does that mean?More to the point, what sort of life is consistent with being a child of God?
If you met the devil out in the wilderness, what sort of temptations would he lob your way?“If you are a child of God…”Or better yet, “Since you are a child of God…”The issue isn’t whether God adopts you.The issue is how God’s kids should act.
Since you are a child of God, surely God wants you to be happy.So focus on making yourself happy.Make sure you have plenty of money and things first.
Since you are a child of God, God is there to meet your needs and wants.When you pray, ask God for lots of stuff and have faith that God will give it to you.You don’t have to listen for God telling you what you really need.You know what’s good for you.
Since you are a child of God… What comes next for you?
Every week in worship, we proclaim that we are indeed children of God as we pray to “Our Father in heaven.”That prayers says something about what it means to be God’s children; longing for God’s rule, asking for enough for the day, being as free with our forgiveness to others as God is with us.
And it’s not only the Lord’s Prayer.The Bible is full of information on what it means to be a child of God, with Jesus himself as the obvious model to follow.Our brother Jesus is THE child of God.But who can measure up to this sibling?
More than once I’ve heard someone describe being a Christian, being a child of God, something where you are never good enough, an endless guilt trip.Since you are a child of God, keep trying harder, but know that you’ll never measure up.
My high school wrestling coach asked a great deal of us.He would urge us to work harder and harder, to do things we never imagined we could do.But it never felt impossible.It never felt like we were trying harder and harder all the while knowing we’d never measure up.In fact, many of us would have tried to do just about anything Coach asked us to do.But that was because we were like family.We knew how much he cared for us, how much he loved us.We knew how much he wanted the best for us, and so we trusted him almost absolutely.
All praise and glory to the God who loves us so much, that in Jesus God went to the cross that we might be children of God.
In today's gospel, Jesus journeys to his hometown and teaches in the synagogue on the Sabbath. At first the people are astounded at the words he speaks and the deeds he performs. But then they recall that they know Jesus. He's the carpenter, son of Mary and brother to James, Joses, Judas, Simon, and some unnamed sisters. "And they took offense at him. "
