A Sermon for the 24th Sunday after Pentecost
November 18, 2007
by Pastor Laura Gentry
2 Thessalonians 3
Now we command you, beloved, in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, to keep away from believers who are living in idleness and not according to the tradition that they received from us. For you yourselves know how you ought to imitate us; we were not idle when we were with you, and we did not eat anyone's bread without paying for it; but with toil and labor we worked night and day, so that we might not burden any of you. This was not because we do not have that right, but in order to give you an example to imitate. For even when we were with you, we gave you this command: Anyone unwilling to work should not eat. For we hear that some of you are living in idleness, mere busybodies, not doing any work. Now such persons we command and exhort in the Lord Jesus Christ to do their work quietly and to earn their own living. Brothers and sisters, do not be weary in doing what is right. (NRSV)
Grace and peace to you from God our Father and from Jesus Christ our Lord and Savior. Amen.
The passage from Second Thessalonians reminds me of the fable of the Grasshopper and the Ants. When the weather was fine, the ants did toil hard to obtain and store up as much food as possible that would sustain them during the winter months. The Grasshopper, watching the ants labor diligently only poked fun at them. The grasshopper preferred to waste time making music, dancing and enjoying the warm weather.
One ant stopped to ask the grasshopper, "Aren't you going to store up for the winter, what will you eat?" The grasshopper just laughed and said, "I do not need to work all day, I just want to dance and play." So the ants left the grasshopper alone.
When winter approached, as winter always does, the ants were deep underground with their summer's harvest. The grasshopper unable to find a blade of green grass, cried out at the entrance of the ants' underground nest. The ants' reply was harsh, “When the weather was fair and food was plentiful you wanted to play, now you must dance hungry to bed each night."
Regardless of which version you’ve heard, the story of the ants and grasshopper is clear. Idleness may be fun at the time, but it has its price in the end. We must work and prepare ourselves, so as not to end up being caught by surprise in the future.
I place this well-known fable in beside Paul's letter to the Thessalonians, because he is responding to reports that certain members of the new church at Thessalonica are starting to abandon their jobs in anticipation of the final judgment. They are hanging around laughing and talking, sure that they do not have to work, as the day of the Lord is going to happen at any minute, they think. Therefore, they feel that working is a complete waste of their time. Paul says that they are “playing truant,” that they are, in essence, playing hookie from work that must be done. So Paul reminds the church at Thessalonica that when he was among them his example was one of work, not leisure like these busybodies. He maintains that he did not eat anyone's bread without paying for it. Not only did he do the work of an evangelist, but he did manual labor to make a living as well.
Idleness was a grave sin in ancient Jerusalem. All citizens were charged with learning a trade, even the Rabbis were not paid for their teaching but earned their living at another occupation. A wise saying once stated, "He who does not teach his child to work, teaches him to steal." It was very important that all people be active in a trade—and not just any trade, but a trade that would enhance the life of the community.
We do not hear near enough about Jesus' trade as a carpenter. We know that he received this training from Saint Joseph and the bible doesn’t tell us what kind of carpenter he was, but legend holds that Jesus made the best ox yokes in all of Palestine. People came from afar to obtain his work. Of course, this should does not surprise us. Since Jesus was the son of God, I imagine anything he crafted would be the finest in all of Palestine. Nevertheless this legend demonstrates that Jesus not only had a trade but was well-practiced at his craft.
So Paul is found urging the believers at Thessalonica to do the same. He condemns the people who are content with their idle behavior. These busybodies seem to have more time to meddle in the affairs of others rather than see to their own work, and it is doing much harm. Paul points out that it is a great error and abuse of religion, to make it a cloak for idleness or any other sin.
Why is having a task to do so important? Why do Paul and Jesus require believers to keep their hand at positive work? Well, we have heard the saying that idleness is the devil's playground. People with not enough to do soon find themselves making sport and entertainment out of the affairs of others. These things are not conducive to religious life, they are not sympathetic to the Gospel. Both the New Testament readings of today speak to the need for people to continue living their lives in the manner which keeps them productive and witnessing for God. They cannot grow tired and weary and cease doing what is right, they must wake up and do the work of a true Christian for we do not know when the final judgment will be.
When faced with the question of the final judgment our response should not be fear or panic. When asked what he would do if the world ended tomorrow, Martin Luther responded, "I would plant an apple tree," signifying that the news of all things coming to an end should not cause us to lose hope nor act in a fashion that is out of our ordinary character. We should be able to act as we always act: with confidence and with hope.
I heard an old story about a man, who was negotiating to buy a house and bought it without even seeing it. He was asked why he took such a risk; his answer was, “I know the man who built that house and he builds his Christianity in with the bricks.” The Christian should be a more conscientious worker than anyone else. Do you build your Christianity into the bricks of your work? Does your faith reflect in the way that you do your job? Is your conscientiousness evident in the way you farm your land or labor in the factory or heal patients or cut hair or process data or teach students or answer telephones or raise your children? No matter what occupation you hold, you should be doing it with all your heart and soul and in doing such quality work, you are being a faithful witness to the Lord whom you serve.
Mother Teresa was a great example of such faithful witness through service. In 1970, Malcolm Muggeridge, a European TV anchorman, went to Calcutta to do a special documentary on Mother Teresa. When met first her, she was working out in the streets with sick and poor people in a ghetto like he had never seen before—amid stench, filth, garbage, disease, and poverty that was just unbelievable. But what struck Muggeridge more than anything else, even there in that awful squalor, was the deep, warm glow on Mother Teresa's face and the deep, warm love in her eyes.
"Do you do this every day?" he began his interview.
"Oh, yes," she replied, "it is my mission. It is how I serve and love my Lord."
"How long have you been doing this? How many months?"
"Months?" said Mother Teresa. "Not months, but years. Maybe eighteen years.
"Eighteen years!" exclaimed Muggeridge. "You've been working here in these
streets for eighteen years?"
"Yes," she said simply and yet joyfully. "It is my privilege to be here. These are my people. These are the ones my Lord has given me to love."
"Do you ever get tired? Do you ever feel like quitting and letting someone else take over your ministry? After all, you are beginning to get older."
"Oh, no," she replied, "this is where the Lord wants me, and this is where I am happy to be. I feel young when I am here. The Lord is so good to me. How privileged I am to serve him."
Later, Malcolm Muggeridge said, "I will never forget that little lady as long as I live. The face, the glow, the eyes, the love—it was all so pure and so beautiful. I shall never forget it. It was like being in the presence of an angel. It changed my life. I have not been the same person since. It is more than I can describe." By the way, after Muggeridge made those comments, Mother Teresa continued to serve in that sacrificial way until the end of her life nearly twenty-seven more years. Yes, I realized that you and I are not famous nuns working in India, but we too, can work with that kind of spirit, putting our whole selves into the work that we do.
The day of the Lord will come one day and we, like the ants in the story of the Grasshopper and the Ants, must be prepared. Since know not the day nor the time, Paul's advice is to keep ourselves active in serving the kingdom with our respective gifts, keeping awake and not becoming idle as people are prone to do. We must not only labor with integrity at our profession, but we are to practice our faith daily in order to be the best possible witnesses for Jesus Christ. And this will keep us from the dangers of being busybodies—of meddling in other people’s affair when we ought to be concentrating on our own lives. May we awaken to the work before us and may our hearts be motivated to bear the best witness for our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.
And now, may the peace of God, which passes all understanding, keep our hearts and minds in Christ Jesus our Lord. Amen.
© 2007 Laura E. Gentry
Sunday, November 18, 2007
Sunday, November 11, 2007
UP A TREE
A Drama for the 22nd Sunday after Pentecost
November 11, 2007
by Pastor Laura Gentry
Luke 19:1-10
Jesus entered Jericho and was passing through it. A man was there named Zacchaeus; he was a chief tax collector and was rich. He was trying to see who Jesus was, but on account of the crowd he could not, because he was short in stature. So he ran ahead and climbed a sycamore tree to see him, because he was going to pass that way. When Jesus came to the place, he looked up and said to him, "Zacchaeus, hurry and come down; for I must stay at your house today." So he hurried down and was happy to welcome him. All who saw it began to grumble and said, "He has gone to be the guest of one who is a sinner." Zacchaeus stood there and said to the Lord, "Look, half of my possessions, Lord, I will give to the poor; and if I have defrauded anyone of anything, I will pay back four times as much." Then Jesus said to him, "Today salvation has come to this house, because he too is a son of Abraham. For the Son of Man came to seek out and to save the lost." (NRSV)
The following is a dramatic presentation for the 22nd Sunday after Pentecost. It was written by Pastor Gentry and performed at Our Savior’s Lutheran Church in Lansing, Iowa in a "tree" by Mr. Gene Scott.
Good morning! I hope you don’t mind this tree in front of me. I just had to come here and tell you my story and I wanted to tell it from this tree, I guess, because this is the place, the very place where it all happened. Oh, excuse me, I haven’t even introduced myself yet. I’m Zacchaeus, tax collector. Ah, well, I used to be before my life was changed.
So let me start at the very beginning. As I told you, I was a tax collector here in the city of Jericho. I worked for the Roman government—you know, the big occupying force that has taken us over here in Israel. They have really made our way of life difficult and they tax us so hard. We’ve all been grumbling about it. But I was offered a job to collect tax for the Romans. Sure, it’s a stupid job and it makes everybody hate you but wow, did they ever offer me a great salary. There is no way I could make that kind of cash doing anything else!
Well, needless to say, I took the job. I could not resist the money it would put in my pocket. And once I got into the work, I found out the whole system is totally corrupt and pretty much all the tax collectors skim a little off the top for themselves because who’s gonna point the finger? I mean, come on! They are all doing it. And Rome’s too big to know just how much they’re being cheated.
After being a tax collector for a while, I became very wealthy and very unpopular around here. People couldn’t stand me. Said I was a sellout. And they had even worse things to say about me that I wouldn’t dare repeat. I guess you could say I was kinda getting miserable. I really think I was lost. But I was sort of locked into that lifestyle and it’s pretty hard to get out once you’ve become a tax collector.
Then, all of a sudden everybody in town was talking about this Jesus guy from Nazareth. Who was he? I didn’t have any idea. Some kinda prophet, I guess. He had been roaming around the country with giant crowds following him all over. It sounded ridiculous to me. I mean, why would people want to traipse all through the desert just to listen to some teacher?
Last week, word was buzzing that the guy was heading to Jericho and that he’d be here that day. You know, I had pretty mixed feelings about it. I didn’t care all that much about hearing some religious teacher. It’s not like I was leading a moral life. I figured he’d condemn me for collecting tax for the Romans. But there was something kinda irresistible about him. Gosh, I don’t know what it was but when everybody else was getting so hyped up to see him, I got really curious.
I got so curious, in fact, that I came up with a plan. I decided I’d show up and just sneak a peak at the teacher to see what the fuss was all about. I figured he wouldn’t notice me in the big crowd. But when I got here, the crowds were so thick! It was outrageous. You might have noticed, but I’m not the tallest man, and...well, I couldn’t see anything through the mass of people that were gathering. I was so frustrated.
So I darted ahead. I may not be tall, but I’m pretty fast. And I’m pretty agile. So when I saw this tree, I jumped up and grabbed that low limb down there and swung myself up into this spot right here. Ah, this was the perfect spot. I could see the whole scene from here and I didn’t have to worry about getting trampled by the crowd. This is the main street of the city so we all knew that when the teacher got to Jericho, he would be coming this way.
Sure enough, he appeared on the horizon. He looked so normal, just like you or me or anybody else. What was the hype all about? I still couldn’t tell but I sure could see the crowds going nuts for him. And sure enough, he came right down the main road and right past my spot in this tree. He was so close I could have reached down and grabbed his head. But I stayed pretty hidden in the leaves of this sycamore tree and I was sure he couldn’t see me, especially with the distraction of the crowds.
Then out of the blue, the teacher turned and looked right up at me. Me! He saw me! I was terrified. But he didn’t yell at me or anything. He pointed at me and said, “Zacchaeus, hurry and come down; for I must stay at your house today.” Did you catch that? He knew my name. I don’t know how he knew it, but he did. He called me by name and I felt so important. And not only that, but he’d invited himself to my house! He was coming to my house! Thank goodness my wife had cleaned the place up!
I scurried down from this tree and I was beaming that he had chosen me. It was the first time I’d felt happy in a long, long time. I don’t live far from here so we walked over to my place. The crowd hardly knew what to do. The people who know me twisted up their faces, like how does this guy rate? I could hear their fussing and grumbling.
“He’s a corrupt old tax collector!”
“What a sinner!”
“Why would Jesus be hanging out with him?”
The insults kept coming. Frankly, I didn’t know why this famous teacher was hanging out with me but I didn’t care. I was just so delighted that he was.
I don’t understand what came over me, but I was suddenly sorry for how much I’d been cheating the people of Jericho. I suddenly wanted to do God’s will. I can hardly believe it yet but I stopped and put my hands up and said to Jesus, "Look, half of my possessions, Lord, I will give to the poor; and if I have defrauded anyone of anything, I will pay back four times as much."
Four times as much! That is a pretty steep promise because I knew I’d defrauded lots of people. I was going to owe a lot. But I didn’t care anymore. I was so thrilled to have the attention of this remarkable man.
Then Jesus said to me, "Today salvation has come to this house, because he too is a son of Abraham. For the Son of Man came to seek out and to save the lost."
I was lost. I was so lost that I hardly knew what to do anymore. I’m sure you’ve felt that way at times. But I’m telling you, this Jesus doesn’t hold back his love. It seems like the more lost and wrong you are, the more he seeks you out.
He changed me that day. He changed me entirely and now I will never be the same. I can’t go back to tax collecting. I can’t go back to being a corrupt man. Now, I actually want to do God’s will. I want to be a person that I can be proud of—and that God can be proud of.
I know some of you today doubt God’s power. I know I did. You wonder who is within God’s power to save. There are so many people out there doing wrong things. I, myself, was a very bad man. And yet, Jesus singled me out and called me back into God’s fold. If he could save me, then I assure you, he could save anyone! I’m serious. I am evidence that God wants to save everybody. We’re all children of Abraham.
Last week, you had your All Saints Day celebration and it’s fun to think about all the saints who are doing God’s will and those wonderful saints who have gone on to be with God in glory. But do you think about the fact that there are saints like me? There are saints that don’t have a lick of good in them except the grace that God has given them. It is God’s all embracing love that transforms us into saints. So you can hold your heads up high and declare with me that you are a saint. So let’s shout it out together so we can really believe it: I AM A SAINT! I AM A SAINT! I AM A SAINT!
That’s right. Wow! I’ve gotta get out of this tree and go do God’s will. So long!
© 2007 Laura E. Gentry
November 11, 2007
by Pastor Laura Gentry
Luke 19:1-10
Jesus entered Jericho and was passing through it. A man was there named Zacchaeus; he was a chief tax collector and was rich. He was trying to see who Jesus was, but on account of the crowd he could not, because he was short in stature. So he ran ahead and climbed a sycamore tree to see him, because he was going to pass that way. When Jesus came to the place, he looked up and said to him, "Zacchaeus, hurry and come down; for I must stay at your house today." So he hurried down and was happy to welcome him. All who saw it began to grumble and said, "He has gone to be the guest of one who is a sinner." Zacchaeus stood there and said to the Lord, "Look, half of my possessions, Lord, I will give to the poor; and if I have defrauded anyone of anything, I will pay back four times as much." Then Jesus said to him, "Today salvation has come to this house, because he too is a son of Abraham. For the Son of Man came to seek out and to save the lost." (NRSV)
The following is a dramatic presentation for the 22nd Sunday after Pentecost. It was written by Pastor Gentry and performed at Our Savior’s Lutheran Church in Lansing, Iowa in a "tree" by Mr. Gene Scott.
Good morning! I hope you don’t mind this tree in front of me. I just had to come here and tell you my story and I wanted to tell it from this tree, I guess, because this is the place, the very place where it all happened. Oh, excuse me, I haven’t even introduced myself yet. I’m Zacchaeus, tax collector. Ah, well, I used to be before my life was changed.
So let me start at the very beginning. As I told you, I was a tax collector here in the city of Jericho. I worked for the Roman government—you know, the big occupying force that has taken us over here in Israel. They have really made our way of life difficult and they tax us so hard. We’ve all been grumbling about it. But I was offered a job to collect tax for the Romans. Sure, it’s a stupid job and it makes everybody hate you but wow, did they ever offer me a great salary. There is no way I could make that kind of cash doing anything else!
Well, needless to say, I took the job. I could not resist the money it would put in my pocket. And once I got into the work, I found out the whole system is totally corrupt and pretty much all the tax collectors skim a little off the top for themselves because who’s gonna point the finger? I mean, come on! They are all doing it. And Rome’s too big to know just how much they’re being cheated.
After being a tax collector for a while, I became very wealthy and very unpopular around here. People couldn’t stand me. Said I was a sellout. And they had even worse things to say about me that I wouldn’t dare repeat. I guess you could say I was kinda getting miserable. I really think I was lost. But I was sort of locked into that lifestyle and it’s pretty hard to get out once you’ve become a tax collector.
Then, all of a sudden everybody in town was talking about this Jesus guy from Nazareth. Who was he? I didn’t have any idea. Some kinda prophet, I guess. He had been roaming around the country with giant crowds following him all over. It sounded ridiculous to me. I mean, why would people want to traipse all through the desert just to listen to some teacher?
Last week, word was buzzing that the guy was heading to Jericho and that he’d be here that day. You know, I had pretty mixed feelings about it. I didn’t care all that much about hearing some religious teacher. It’s not like I was leading a moral life. I figured he’d condemn me for collecting tax for the Romans. But there was something kinda irresistible about him. Gosh, I don’t know what it was but when everybody else was getting so hyped up to see him, I got really curious.
I got so curious, in fact, that I came up with a plan. I decided I’d show up and just sneak a peak at the teacher to see what the fuss was all about. I figured he wouldn’t notice me in the big crowd. But when I got here, the crowds were so thick! It was outrageous. You might have noticed, but I’m not the tallest man, and...well, I couldn’t see anything through the mass of people that were gathering. I was so frustrated.
So I darted ahead. I may not be tall, but I’m pretty fast. And I’m pretty agile. So when I saw this tree, I jumped up and grabbed that low limb down there and swung myself up into this spot right here. Ah, this was the perfect spot. I could see the whole scene from here and I didn’t have to worry about getting trampled by the crowd. This is the main street of the city so we all knew that when the teacher got to Jericho, he would be coming this way.
Sure enough, he appeared on the horizon. He looked so normal, just like you or me or anybody else. What was the hype all about? I still couldn’t tell but I sure could see the crowds going nuts for him. And sure enough, he came right down the main road and right past my spot in this tree. He was so close I could have reached down and grabbed his head. But I stayed pretty hidden in the leaves of this sycamore tree and I was sure he couldn’t see me, especially with the distraction of the crowds.
Then out of the blue, the teacher turned and looked right up at me. Me! He saw me! I was terrified. But he didn’t yell at me or anything. He pointed at me and said, “Zacchaeus, hurry and come down; for I must stay at your house today.” Did you catch that? He knew my name. I don’t know how he knew it, but he did. He called me by name and I felt so important. And not only that, but he’d invited himself to my house! He was coming to my house! Thank goodness my wife had cleaned the place up!
I scurried down from this tree and I was beaming that he had chosen me. It was the first time I’d felt happy in a long, long time. I don’t live far from here so we walked over to my place. The crowd hardly knew what to do. The people who know me twisted up their faces, like how does this guy rate? I could hear their fussing and grumbling.
“He’s a corrupt old tax collector!”
“What a sinner!”
“Why would Jesus be hanging out with him?”
The insults kept coming. Frankly, I didn’t know why this famous teacher was hanging out with me but I didn’t care. I was just so delighted that he was.
I don’t understand what came over me, but I was suddenly sorry for how much I’d been cheating the people of Jericho. I suddenly wanted to do God’s will. I can hardly believe it yet but I stopped and put my hands up and said to Jesus, "Look, half of my possessions, Lord, I will give to the poor; and if I have defrauded anyone of anything, I will pay back four times as much."
Four times as much! That is a pretty steep promise because I knew I’d defrauded lots of people. I was going to owe a lot. But I didn’t care anymore. I was so thrilled to have the attention of this remarkable man.
Then Jesus said to me, "Today salvation has come to this house, because he too is a son of Abraham. For the Son of Man came to seek out and to save the lost."
I was lost. I was so lost that I hardly knew what to do anymore. I’m sure you’ve felt that way at times. But I’m telling you, this Jesus doesn’t hold back his love. It seems like the more lost and wrong you are, the more he seeks you out.
He changed me that day. He changed me entirely and now I will never be the same. I can’t go back to tax collecting. I can’t go back to being a corrupt man. Now, I actually want to do God’s will. I want to be a person that I can be proud of—and that God can be proud of.
I know some of you today doubt God’s power. I know I did. You wonder who is within God’s power to save. There are so many people out there doing wrong things. I, myself, was a very bad man. And yet, Jesus singled me out and called me back into God’s fold. If he could save me, then I assure you, he could save anyone! I’m serious. I am evidence that God wants to save everybody. We’re all children of Abraham.
Last week, you had your All Saints Day celebration and it’s fun to think about all the saints who are doing God’s will and those wonderful saints who have gone on to be with God in glory. But do you think about the fact that there are saints like me? There are saints that don’t have a lick of good in them except the grace that God has given them. It is God’s all embracing love that transforms us into saints. So you can hold your heads up high and declare with me that you are a saint. So let’s shout it out together so we can really believe it: I AM A SAINT! I AM A SAINT! I AM A SAINT!
That’s right. Wow! I’ve gotta get out of this tree and go do God’s will. So long!
© 2007 Laura E. Gentry
Sunday, November 4, 2007
ALL SAINT CELEBRATION
A Sermon for All Saints Sunday
November 4, 2007
by Pastor Laura Gentry
Luke 6:20-31
Blessed are you who are poor, for yours is the kingdom of God.
Blessed are you who hunger now, for you will be satisfied.
Blessed are you who weep now, for you will laugh.
Blessed are you when men hate you, when they exclude you and insult you and reject your name as evil, because of the Son of Man. Rejoice in that day and leap for joy, because great is your reward in heaven. For that is how their fathers treated the prophets. But woe to you, who are rich for you have already received your comfort.
Woe to you who are well fed now, for you will go hungry.
Woe to you who laugh now, for you will mourn and weep.
Woe to you when all men speak well of you, for that is how their fathers treated the false prophets. But I tell you who hear me: Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you. If someone strikes you on one cheek, turn to him the other also. If someone takes your cloak, do not stop him from taking your tunic. Give to everyone who asks you and if anyone takes what belongs to you, do not demand it back. Do to others as you would have them do to you. (NIV)
Grace and peace to you from God our Father and from Jesus Christ our Lord and Savior. Amen.
Throughout history, people have found it important to remember the dead. Archaeologists have revealed many different burial practices and tombs, which make statements about how ancient people mourned their deceased. Just south of here, you can visit the national monument of Effigy Mounds and see how the people native to this land would bury the dead in earthen mounds shaped like animals.
Modern tombs in the west are becoming more elaborate as people put special engravings and symbols on tombstones and decorate the sites with flowers, statues, wind chimes and other symbols. No matter what our cultural background, there is an innate need to memorialize the dead.
In the early days of Christianity, many people died as martyrs. They were killed for their faith in terrible ways. In 610 A.D., the emperor gave away the famous Roman Pantheon because he could no longer afford the upkeep. Pope Boniface was the recipient of his generous gift and he decided to rededicate it as a chapel for Christian martyrs. This finally gave the church a way to memorialize all those who had died for the faith and they would hold a celebration each spring.
This annual celebration grew and grew. After 200 years, it got so big that they found it could no longer be celebrated in the spring because they ran out of food for all the pilgrims. It was at that point that they switched the celebration to November 1—right after the harvest, so there would be plenty of food. They also began to celebrate all the saints, not just martyrs, and hence the name “All Saints Day” was born.
We just celebrated Reformation Sunday last week. On that date, we commemorate the beginning of the Reformation when Martin Luther posted the 95 thesis on the university door in Wittenberg. He posted it on the day before All Saints. The reason he chose this timing was that he knew there would be huge crowds coming for the celebration so his thesis would be read by a wider audience.
This tradition of celebrating All Saint’s Sunday continues and that’s what we recognize today. But just what is a saint? The word itself tends to be somewhat off-putting. We think of those paintings and stained glass windows of saints when we hear this word. We imagine people who look absolutely perfect and have that plate sticking to the back of their head, presumably a halo.
Well, as I look out across the church this morning, I don’t see any plates or halos on your heads but that doesn’t mean we’re not saints. No, not at all. We are saints! We are saints by virtue of our baptism. In Christ, we have been forgiven and freed to live the faithful lives to which God has called us. It is not our own doing or worthiness that makes us saints. It is Christ’s worthiness—given to us by grace.
This morning we have lit candles to remember the saints and many of you have named saints who have died and have gone on to be with God in glory. But we cannot forget that we are totally surrounded by the “great cloud of witnesses” the Bible talks about. This cloud of witnesses who help us along in our faith include those whose lives on earth are through but they also include those who fill the pews today. I want you to turn to the person sitting to your right and the person witting to your left and say to them, “Hi Saint!”
Wow, this church is just loaded with saints! What a great cloud of witnesses we are!
And for this All Saints celebration, the lectionary text for today gives us Jesus’ sermon on the plain to help give us a better vision of how we ought to live our our sainthood. Jesus says a lot in this complex passage, but what it really boils down to is that he tells us how to cling to God no matter what troubles or losses we face, and how appropriately to resist evil. These are shocking messages because they run completely counter to the way in which we think we ought to act if we are to do what is in our best interest.
The four beatitudes each in their way deal with a form of poverty. Beatitudes were common literary devices in the Jewish heritage. Blessing someone or celebrating the blessing of an action or lifestyle was a way of calling a profound spirituality into an everyday setting. “Blessed are you for caring for that widow in the village” was not just a kind thought. It implied that God would bless you for your generosity. In Jesus’ four beatitudes, he addresses real people in the Capernaum area. Often their crops failed. The fishermen didn’t bring home a catch. Illness spread without a cure. Early deaths left many widows and orphans. Hunger and sorrow due to circumstances beyond one’s control was common. And in their midst stood Jesus, who had experienced this personally. He also knew that God was closer to people in their poverty than he was to those who had abundance. For this reason, he who himself was poor, rejoiced with them because they depended so completely on God’s mercy and love.
Sometimes it’s difficult to relate to a story if you haven’t experienced something like that yourself. For example, think of Michaelangelo’s sculpture called the Pieta. It pictures Mary holding Jesus after the crucifixion on her lap, in her arms. Some people find this pose strange since it is never mentioned in the Bible. Still—this work of art spoke in a powerful way to women in the Middle Ages. Because of children dying in childbirth, from diseases, from accidents, it was highly unlikely that a mother in the Middle Ages reached old age without having held more than one of her dead children in her arms. This depiction of the Pieta for women was more powerful than the depiction of the crucifixion because it said, “here is something you know about. Here is death at a level of pain and sorrow with which you can identify.” Through this art, the tragedy of the crucifixion became real to them.
We in our modern world may find it hard to identify with the situation in ancient Capernaum—the audience to which Jesus was speaking. We don’t know their pain, sorrow, worry or loss. Yet, we do know about our own. We’re experts in that. We know that life can have its dead ends leaving us wanting. We also know that our loved ones who have gone before us in the faith, whose hopes are now fulfilled in ways we could never imagine, are beyond all pain, sorrow, loss, worry, illness and death. They are on the other side of poverty and the words of Jesus are not just empty talk—they are words of promise and hope. The fulfillment of these words will be ours as they are now already for our loved ones. The words of Jesus give us cause to thank God here and now already because the grace and love we poor sinners experience in having our sins forgiven and our future assured wipes all tears from our eyes. These blessings of Jesus’ are not just words—they are the reality upon which we live for we know God’s blessing and comfort in our times of deepest need.
The next section provides a more radical challenge to us—Jesus tells us to love our enemies, to do good to those who hate us, to bless those who curse us. Oh, why does he always make it so difficult? If you read the internet forums and hear how people anonymously slander one another, how they talk about their political leaders, how they speak about people of other religious perspectives, you know our world is not prone to practice the words of Jesus.
So how do we possibly follow his teachings? And why? Is Jesus calling us here to become doormats for God, to allow people to walk all over us? This is not what Jesus is saying. Walter Wink, a New Testament theologian who has long struggled with these words of Jesus, says there is a big difference between saying “resist evil, but don’t react violently” and saying “just walk all over me, I’m not anything important.” For example, when Jesus says “turn to him the other cheek” or “give him your tunic as well,” he is saying, “don’t’ let your opponent dictate the terms of your opposition to him.” If he seeks to be inhuman, you have options. If the spiral of violence insists that each country develop more sophisticated weaponry to assure that the other has less, then consider new, more creative options. Jesus wants to break the spiral of violence by teaching us not to turn into the very kind of people we hate. Do not return evil for evil!
Of course, you and I know that people can literally lose their heads in practicing such nonviolence. However, it’s worth remembering that in the last decade, thirteen nations were involved in nonviolent revolutions, fully one-third of humanity. There are other ways to resolve conflict and Jesus knows it. We must be faith-minded enough to find these ways lest violence escalate.
These are the gifts given to the saints, those whose failures and miscalculations have been covered by the redeeming love of Christ. Today, our Gospel lesson asks that we remember all the saints and martyrs not because they were perfect people but because through Christ, in their poverty they have become rich, and in their struggles they have discovered the peace which passes human understanding.
And so today we celebrate all the saints. We celebrate the saints who have gone before us and who know dwell in God’s unending light. And we celebrate ourselves and the saints who share the pews with us today. Most of all, we celebrate the Savior who has made us all saints, Jesus Christ. We relish the powerful lessons he teaches us—how we can rejoice in our weakness and sorrow, how we can love even our enemies, how we can find creative alternatives to violence—at personal and national levels. How exciting that our sainthood is ongoing because of God’s work within us! How delightful that we can, indeed, change for the better! Let us recommit ourselves today to keep growing in our sainthood that God’s kingdom may, indeed, come. Amen.
And now, may the peace which passes all understanding keep our hearts and our minds in Christ Jesus our Lord. Amen.
© 2007 Laura E. Gentry
November 4, 2007
by Pastor Laura Gentry
Luke 6:20-31
Blessed are you who are poor, for yours is the kingdom of God.
Blessed are you who hunger now, for you will be satisfied.
Blessed are you who weep now, for you will laugh.
Blessed are you when men hate you, when they exclude you and insult you and reject your name as evil, because of the Son of Man. Rejoice in that day and leap for joy, because great is your reward in heaven. For that is how their fathers treated the prophets. But woe to you, who are rich for you have already received your comfort.
Woe to you who are well fed now, for you will go hungry.
Woe to you who laugh now, for you will mourn and weep.
Woe to you when all men speak well of you, for that is how their fathers treated the false prophets. But I tell you who hear me: Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you. If someone strikes you on one cheek, turn to him the other also. If someone takes your cloak, do not stop him from taking your tunic. Give to everyone who asks you and if anyone takes what belongs to you, do not demand it back. Do to others as you would have them do to you. (NIV)
Grace and peace to you from God our Father and from Jesus Christ our Lord and Savior. Amen.
Throughout history, people have found it important to remember the dead. Archaeologists have revealed many different burial practices and tombs, which make statements about how ancient people mourned their deceased. Just south of here, you can visit the national monument of Effigy Mounds and see how the people native to this land would bury the dead in earthen mounds shaped like animals.
Modern tombs in the west are becoming more elaborate as people put special engravings and symbols on tombstones and decorate the sites with flowers, statues, wind chimes and other symbols. No matter what our cultural background, there is an innate need to memorialize the dead.
In the early days of Christianity, many people died as martyrs. They were killed for their faith in terrible ways. In 610 A.D., the emperor gave away the famous Roman Pantheon because he could no longer afford the upkeep. Pope Boniface was the recipient of his generous gift and he decided to rededicate it as a chapel for Christian martyrs. This finally gave the church a way to memorialize all those who had died for the faith and they would hold a celebration each spring.
This annual celebration grew and grew. After 200 years, it got so big that they found it could no longer be celebrated in the spring because they ran out of food for all the pilgrims. It was at that point that they switched the celebration to November 1—right after the harvest, so there would be plenty of food. They also began to celebrate all the saints, not just martyrs, and hence the name “All Saints Day” was born.
We just celebrated Reformation Sunday last week. On that date, we commemorate the beginning of the Reformation when Martin Luther posted the 95 thesis on the university door in Wittenberg. He posted it on the day before All Saints. The reason he chose this timing was that he knew there would be huge crowds coming for the celebration so his thesis would be read by a wider audience.
This tradition of celebrating All Saint’s Sunday continues and that’s what we recognize today. But just what is a saint? The word itself tends to be somewhat off-putting. We think of those paintings and stained glass windows of saints when we hear this word. We imagine people who look absolutely perfect and have that plate sticking to the back of their head, presumably a halo.
Well, as I look out across the church this morning, I don’t see any plates or halos on your heads but that doesn’t mean we’re not saints. No, not at all. We are saints! We are saints by virtue of our baptism. In Christ, we have been forgiven and freed to live the faithful lives to which God has called us. It is not our own doing or worthiness that makes us saints. It is Christ’s worthiness—given to us by grace.
This morning we have lit candles to remember the saints and many of you have named saints who have died and have gone on to be with God in glory. But we cannot forget that we are totally surrounded by the “great cloud of witnesses” the Bible talks about. This cloud of witnesses who help us along in our faith include those whose lives on earth are through but they also include those who fill the pews today. I want you to turn to the person sitting to your right and the person witting to your left and say to them, “Hi Saint!”
Wow, this church is just loaded with saints! What a great cloud of witnesses we are!
And for this All Saints celebration, the lectionary text for today gives us Jesus’ sermon on the plain to help give us a better vision of how we ought to live our our sainthood. Jesus says a lot in this complex passage, but what it really boils down to is that he tells us how to cling to God no matter what troubles or losses we face, and how appropriately to resist evil. These are shocking messages because they run completely counter to the way in which we think we ought to act if we are to do what is in our best interest.
The four beatitudes each in their way deal with a form of poverty. Beatitudes were common literary devices in the Jewish heritage. Blessing someone or celebrating the blessing of an action or lifestyle was a way of calling a profound spirituality into an everyday setting. “Blessed are you for caring for that widow in the village” was not just a kind thought. It implied that God would bless you for your generosity. In Jesus’ four beatitudes, he addresses real people in the Capernaum area. Often their crops failed. The fishermen didn’t bring home a catch. Illness spread without a cure. Early deaths left many widows and orphans. Hunger and sorrow due to circumstances beyond one’s control was common. And in their midst stood Jesus, who had experienced this personally. He also knew that God was closer to people in their poverty than he was to those who had abundance. For this reason, he who himself was poor, rejoiced with them because they depended so completely on God’s mercy and love.
Sometimes it’s difficult to relate to a story if you haven’t experienced something like that yourself. For example, think of Michaelangelo’s sculpture called the Pieta. It pictures Mary holding Jesus after the crucifixion on her lap, in her arms. Some people find this pose strange since it is never mentioned in the Bible. Still—this work of art spoke in a powerful way to women in the Middle Ages. Because of children dying in childbirth, from diseases, from accidents, it was highly unlikely that a mother in the Middle Ages reached old age without having held more than one of her dead children in her arms. This depiction of the Pieta for women was more powerful than the depiction of the crucifixion because it said, “here is something you know about. Here is death at a level of pain and sorrow with which you can identify.” Through this art, the tragedy of the crucifixion became real to them.
We in our modern world may find it hard to identify with the situation in ancient Capernaum—the audience to which Jesus was speaking. We don’t know their pain, sorrow, worry or loss. Yet, we do know about our own. We’re experts in that. We know that life can have its dead ends leaving us wanting. We also know that our loved ones who have gone before us in the faith, whose hopes are now fulfilled in ways we could never imagine, are beyond all pain, sorrow, loss, worry, illness and death. They are on the other side of poverty and the words of Jesus are not just empty talk—they are words of promise and hope. The fulfillment of these words will be ours as they are now already for our loved ones. The words of Jesus give us cause to thank God here and now already because the grace and love we poor sinners experience in having our sins forgiven and our future assured wipes all tears from our eyes. These blessings of Jesus’ are not just words—they are the reality upon which we live for we know God’s blessing and comfort in our times of deepest need.
The next section provides a more radical challenge to us—Jesus tells us to love our enemies, to do good to those who hate us, to bless those who curse us. Oh, why does he always make it so difficult? If you read the internet forums and hear how people anonymously slander one another, how they talk about their political leaders, how they speak about people of other religious perspectives, you know our world is not prone to practice the words of Jesus.
So how do we possibly follow his teachings? And why? Is Jesus calling us here to become doormats for God, to allow people to walk all over us? This is not what Jesus is saying. Walter Wink, a New Testament theologian who has long struggled with these words of Jesus, says there is a big difference between saying “resist evil, but don’t react violently” and saying “just walk all over me, I’m not anything important.” For example, when Jesus says “turn to him the other cheek” or “give him your tunic as well,” he is saying, “don’t’ let your opponent dictate the terms of your opposition to him.” If he seeks to be inhuman, you have options. If the spiral of violence insists that each country develop more sophisticated weaponry to assure that the other has less, then consider new, more creative options. Jesus wants to break the spiral of violence by teaching us not to turn into the very kind of people we hate. Do not return evil for evil!
Of course, you and I know that people can literally lose their heads in practicing such nonviolence. However, it’s worth remembering that in the last decade, thirteen nations were involved in nonviolent revolutions, fully one-third of humanity. There are other ways to resolve conflict and Jesus knows it. We must be faith-minded enough to find these ways lest violence escalate.
These are the gifts given to the saints, those whose failures and miscalculations have been covered by the redeeming love of Christ. Today, our Gospel lesson asks that we remember all the saints and martyrs not because they were perfect people but because through Christ, in their poverty they have become rich, and in their struggles they have discovered the peace which passes human understanding.
And so today we celebrate all the saints. We celebrate the saints who have gone before us and who know dwell in God’s unending light. And we celebrate ourselves and the saints who share the pews with us today. Most of all, we celebrate the Savior who has made us all saints, Jesus Christ. We relish the powerful lessons he teaches us—how we can rejoice in our weakness and sorrow, how we can love even our enemies, how we can find creative alternatives to violence—at personal and national levels. How exciting that our sainthood is ongoing because of God’s work within us! How delightful that we can, indeed, change for the better! Let us recommit ourselves today to keep growing in our sainthood that God’s kingdom may, indeed, come. Amen.
And now, may the peace which passes all understanding keep our hearts and our minds in Christ Jesus our Lord. Amen.
© 2007 Laura E. Gentry
Sunday, October 28, 2007
THE BIBLE SPEAKS
A Sermon for Reformation Sunday
October 28, 2007
by Pastor Laura Gentry
II Timothy 3:16
All scripture is inspired by God and is useful for teaching, for reproof, for correction, and for training in righteousness.(NRSV)
The following drama is a first account of the Reformation from the Bible's point of view.
The B-I-B-L-E, yes that’s the book that’s me!
So stand alone on the Word of God, the B-I-B-L-E!
Hello everyone! Since today is Reformation Sunday and a celebration is, therefore, required, Pastor Laura asked me, the Bible, to come and speak to you this morning. As you can see, I am the “Living Person Version”, the most talkative style of Bible. I want you to understand some important things about me and since I’m showing up in person, I know you’ll remember them.
You see, I play a vital role in the dramatic story of the Reformation, which began back in 1517. Martin Luther, a young priest and professor of Biblical theology at the University Wittenberg, knew me quite well. As a scholar, he’s spent a lot of time studying me. And he saw that the practices of the Church at the time, especially that of selling indulgences, were not in keeping with my teachings. Indulgences sort of worked like extra credit points in school. The Church said that if you buy them, your soul will gain the extra merit points that the saints of old had left over. The more you buy, the better off you’ll be.
Luther searched me through and through and could not find any reason to support this practice. I proclaim the good news that salvation comes, not from doing good deeds and buying indulgences to make up for your lack, but from the merit of Christ’s resurrection alone. Faith in Christ alone saves! It is a gift, pure and simple.
In the midst of the trouble that Luther caused back in the Middle Ages, he realized that the Church was able to get so off track because the lay people did not have access to the scriptures. That’s right. I was not always the lovely, leather bound book you see before you today. In those days, I was a set of scriptures that had been hand-copied from previous manuscripts. And I was only in the original languages—Hebrew for the Old Testament, also known as the Hebrew Scriptures, and Greek for the New Testament, also known as the Christian Scriptures—and the scholarly language of Latin. That was it. Do any of you speak ancient Hebrew, Greek or Latin? Well, then you would have no way to read me for yourselves and you would have to rely upon the Church’s word.
Understandably, Luther thought this was a big problem. During his time of hiding out in the Wartburg Castle, he translated me into German for the first time. Since he questioned the Church, they put a bounty on his head and Luther could have been killed if anyone had found him. So he spent his hiding time wisely by putting me into the language of the people. He believed that if they could just read me themselves, they would understand God and God’s will for humanity. And since the printing press had just been invented, he got me printed and bound up as a book for the first time. It was an exciting time for me and for God’s people! And it has been exciting ever since!
And you modern day ELCA Lutherans—you’ve got some thoughts about me. Do you want to know what they are? Well, you believe that I am the most important way in which God is revealed to you. When you read me, it’s more than just words on a page. You see, in reading me, you are able to encounter the Living God! And through my content, you are called to a Living Faith.
I’m more than just a book, I’m a whole library. In fact, my name, Bible, means books. There are so many books contained within my pages. There are 66, in fact. And they weren’t all written at once. They were written over a period of about 1,000 years. Each of my books had a life and use of its own before it came to be part of the collection included in the Bible. These books that made the final cut are known as the "sacred canon."
As you know, I contain all kinds of stories, from the very beginning when God created the universe. In my 39 books of the Old Testament, you can read about the Jewish people’s history and their understanding of God and God’s interaction with humankind. In my 27 New Testament books, you hear about God’s self revelation in Jesus Christ.
Like other Christians, you ELCA Lutherans confidently claim that my authority rests in God. You believe that God inspired my many writers, editors and compilers. As they heard God speaking and discerned God’s activity in events around them, my content took shape. Among other things, the literature they produced is rather diverse and includes history, laws, parables, letters of instruction, persuasion and encouragement, tales of heroism, love poetry and hymns of praise. These different styles of writing all testify to faith in a God who acts by personally engaging people throughout history.
At the same time, you Lutherans recognize that human testimony and writing are related to and often limited by culture, customs and world view. Today we know that the earth is not flat and that rabbits do not chew their cud like it says in Leviticus (11:6). There lots of time-bound cultural understandings and practices we don’t follow any more. For example, you no longer obey my prescribed dietary laws like eliminating pork from your diet (Leviticus 11:7) because the new covenant we have with God in Jesus has replaced the old covenant God had with his people. My writers, editors and compilers were inspired by God but they were also limited by their times and world views, just like you are today. It is true that because of this, I contain differing and even contradictory views of God’s word, ways and will. I’m so very complicated!
Today, it is your responsibility to interpret me and use me to guide your lives. As you read me, you and your fellow believers have to sort out what is the eternal essence of what God is saying and what is time-bound and should no longer enforced, like the biblical notion of owning people as slaves or keeping women out of ordained ministry. And since you believe that God is alive and working, you may discern that even though I say one thing, God may be doing something new. Together as a church, you must use your intelligent minds and listen to the wisdom of the Holy Spirit in order to interpret me wisely. Biblical scholars spend a lot of time dissecting me and using logical theories so they can be of great help in this process. Your pastor relies quite a bit upon their findings for her sermons—that is, when she actually preaches herself instead of bringing in special guests like me.
Back to Martin Luther. He had some very insightful things to say about this matter. He said that you should all look at me through the lens of God’s most important act—that of becoming human and entering our world. Jesus was himself the Living Word of God. Luther said Jesus is to be worshiped, not me—that as important as I am, I am simply the manger in which the Christ child lays. I am the manger. That means I am the place where you can encounter the Christ who came to save you. And so you ought to look at all of my passages in light of this reality.
On several occasions, Martin Luther suggested that not all of my books have the same value for faith formation. With every thing you read in me, you have to ask, “Is what’s written here consistent with God’s revelation in Jesus?" It is a question that you ELCA Lutherans find best answered within the life of the Church in community because Jesus is alive and with you all as Lord of the Church.
So today, on Reformation Sunday, we celebrate me, God’s Word, our great heritage. We get excited about the fact that you all have access to me, the Living Scripture that contains the Living Word of God. You can read your own Bibles in your own native language and so you can encounter the Living God and be called to a Living Faith! You can discover God’s unconditional love for you and for all people! You can have the peace of knowing God has saved you by grace. Now you’ll never forget just how important I am!
The B-I-B-L-E, yes that’s the book that’s me!
So stand alone on the Word of God, the B-I-B-L-E!
© 2007 Laura Gentry
Sunday, October 21, 2007
PRAY FOR CHANGE
A Sermon for The Twenty-First Sunday after Pentecost
October 21, 2007
by Pastor Laura Gentry
Luke 18:1-8
Then Jesus told them a parable about their need to pray always and not to lose heart. He said, “In a certain city there was a judge who neither feared God nor had respect for people. In that city there was a widow who kept coming to him and saying, ‘Grant me justice against my opponent.’ For a while he refused; but later he said to himself, ‘Though I have no fear of God and no respect for anyone, yet because this widow keeps bothering me, I will grant her justice, so that she may not wear me out by continually coming.’” And the Lord said, “Listen to what the unjust judge says. And will not God grant justice to his chosen ones who cry to him day and night? Will he delay long in helping them? I tell you, he will quickly grant justice to them. And yet, when the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on earth?” (NRSV)
Grace and Peace to you from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.
Before the collapse of the Soviet Union, the Russian author Alexander Solzhenitsyn spent many years in the prison camps of Siberia. Along with other prisoners, he worked in the fields day after day, in rain and sun, during summer and winter. His life appeared to be nothing more than backbreaking labor and slow starvation. The intense suffering reduced him to a state of despair.
On one particular day, the hopelessness of his situation became too much for him. He saw no reason to continue his struggle, no reason to keep on living. His life made no difference in the world. So he gave up.
Leaving his shovel on the ground, he slowly walked to a crude bench and sat down. He knew that at any moment a guard would order him to stand up, and when he failed to respond, the guard would beat him to death, probably with his own shovel. He had seen it happen to other prisoners.
As he waited, head down, he felt a presence. Slowly he looked up and saw a skinny old prisoner squat down beside him. The man said nothing. Instead, he used a stick to trace in the dirt the sign of the Cross. The man then got back up and returned to his work.
As Solzhenitsyn stared at the Cross drawn in the dirt his entire perspective changed. He knew he was only one man against the all-powerful Soviet empire. Yet he knew there was something greater than the evil he saw in the prison camp, something greater than the Soviet Union. He knew that hope for all people was represented by that simple Cross. Through the power of the Cross, anything was possible.
Solzhenitsyn slowly rose to his feet, picked up his shovel, and went back to work. Outwardly, nothing had changed. Inside, he had received hope. [From Luke Veronis, “The Sign of the Cross”; Communion, issue 8, Pascha 1997.]
What that skinny old prisoner did for Solzhenitsyn, Jesus does for us today in telling us about the insistent widow and the unscrupulous judge. As Solzhenitsyn desperately needed a renewal of hope, so we need encouragement from time to time if we are to continue in prayer and not lose heart. The skinny old prisoner made lines in the dirt. Jesus does something different: he gives us a very important story.
There is this judge, Jesus says, who has neither decency nor conscience, a corrupt official interested only in his own advantage. A widow appears in his courtroom. She is poor and powerless, somebody not noticed by the movers and shakers in her town. She has no money to bribe this crooked judge; she cannot afford a lawyer to speak up for her. So you know what she does? She speaks up for herself! GRANT ME JUSTICE AGAINST MY OPPONENT! she shouts. When this does not bring her immediate results, she remains undaunted. She keeps returning to that courtroom, and refuses to be silent. GRANT ME JUSTICE AGAINST MY OPPONENT!
It is no surprise that the judge soon gets tired of this. In the original Greek, he compares her in-his-face attitude to getting a black eye. To spare himself further annoyance, the judge decides not simply to hear her case, but to grant her justice to spare himself annoyance. Now is this a portrait of God? That doesn’t seem to be what Jesus has in mind, though certainly that is how some people look at the practice of prayer. They hold a picture of God as an unscrupulous judge or a petty bureaucrat or an abusive parent. With such a picture before them, it’s startling that they ever pray at all.
God is not like that. Instead, the Lord is the author of all justice and compassion. It may be that we are to imitate, in our prayer, the persistence shown by the widow, but if so, it is not because God is hard-hearted and uncaring.
Let’s take another look at that judge. What do we know about him? We know that he is unscrupulous, without decency or conscience. He doesn’t respect people; there is no fear of God in him. He is a closed universe. This judge always has it figured out; he leaves no room for the possibility that God may have a more creative answer to questions his life presses upon him.
Do we know anyone who matches this description? Hmmm...how about you and me? Each of us fits that description and times, and some of us may make a career of doing so. There are those times, all too often, when each of us lives entirely unto ourselves. We refuse to allow that God may have a creative solution to problems that beset us, that God may offer us better things than we can ask for or imagine. Our decisions about life then leave no room for God, and no room for other people who have needs and wishes different from our own. The universe, as we understand it, becomes very small; we are its sole inhabitants.
If then the judge represents us, who does the loud-mouthed woman represent? Could it be that this poor and powerless woman, who demonstrates unlimited courage, is there as a reminder of God?
Certainly, this fits. God is ever attempting to break into our closed universe, to draw us into relationship, makes us recognize what our relationships with God and neighbor demand of us.
God is not the unjust judge, but the widow who wears him down. Where, then, is the unjust judge to be found? Listen carefully: that judge is inside each of us, and the purpose of our prayer is to wear him down, to wear him out, to force him to do justice. Prayer is the widow’s voice, strong and persistent, insisting that things be different.
Many people have trouble with prayer, or even give up the practice, because they think that praying is an exercise in telling God what God already knows, or persuading God to do what God wouldn’t do otherwise, or somehow changing God in one way or another. Prayer, any prayer worthy of the name, is quite the opposite. The primary effect of prayer is not on God, but on us. God’s love is already unconditional, God’s justice is already perfect, God’s compassion has always been will always be without limit.
God recognizes our needs even before we do. It’s not God who needs to change, it is up to us to get in line with God’s program, and prayer is a large part of how that comes about.
Prayer is our declaration that we don’t want to be a closed universe, dependent only on ourselves and our own solutions. Prayer is our desire to be open to God. In our prayer, the Holy Spirit speaks in the voice of the poor widow who demands justice from the unscrupulous judge. The miracle of prayer is that the judge’s resistance breaks down and for once he does what is right, and may even do so again in the future.
That loud-mouthed widow would not have succeeded had she not been persistent, confident, and unconcerned with what others thought of her. Our prayer needs to have that kind of determination, not because God is deaf but because opening our hearts to God is no easy matter.
There are many things in each of us that can keep God out. Sin is not the only obstacle. Attitudes of mind may keep the door shut and bolted. We may doubt that God hears us; we may consider ourselves unworthy; we may think God has better things to do than intervene in our lives. These attitudes can be driven out by persistent prayer, the voice of the widow who refuses to take no for an answer.
The story is told of a girl who watched a holy man praying at the riverbank. Once the man had finished his prayer, the girl approached him and asked, “Will you teach me to pray?” The holy man studied the girl’s face, and agreed to her request. He took her into the river. The holy man instructed her to lean over, so her face was close to the water. The girl did as she was told.
Then the holy man pushed her whole head under the water. Soon the girl struggled to free herself in order to breathe. Once she got her breath back, she gasped, “What did you do that for?” The holy man said, “I gave you your first lesson.” “What do you mean?” asked the astonished girl. He answered, “When you long to pray as much as you long to breathe, then I will be able to teach you how to pray.”
May each of us long to pray, and learn to pray, and to persist in our prayer—not so that we can change God, but so that God can change us, and help us enjoy that fullness of life God intends for us.
Now, may the peace of God, which passes all understanding, keep our hearts and minds in Christ Jesus our Lord. Amen.
© 2007 Laura Gentry
October 21, 2007
by Pastor Laura Gentry
Luke 18:1-8
Then Jesus told them a parable about their need to pray always and not to lose heart. He said, “In a certain city there was a judge who neither feared God nor had respect for people. In that city there was a widow who kept coming to him and saying, ‘Grant me justice against my opponent.’ For a while he refused; but later he said to himself, ‘Though I have no fear of God and no respect for anyone, yet because this widow keeps bothering me, I will grant her justice, so that she may not wear me out by continually coming.’” And the Lord said, “Listen to what the unjust judge says. And will not God grant justice to his chosen ones who cry to him day and night? Will he delay long in helping them? I tell you, he will quickly grant justice to them. And yet, when the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on earth?” (NRSV)
Grace and Peace to you from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.
Before the collapse of the Soviet Union, the Russian author Alexander Solzhenitsyn spent many years in the prison camps of Siberia. Along with other prisoners, he worked in the fields day after day, in rain and sun, during summer and winter. His life appeared to be nothing more than backbreaking labor and slow starvation. The intense suffering reduced him to a state of despair.
On one particular day, the hopelessness of his situation became too much for him. He saw no reason to continue his struggle, no reason to keep on living. His life made no difference in the world. So he gave up.
Leaving his shovel on the ground, he slowly walked to a crude bench and sat down. He knew that at any moment a guard would order him to stand up, and when he failed to respond, the guard would beat him to death, probably with his own shovel. He had seen it happen to other prisoners.
As he waited, head down, he felt a presence. Slowly he looked up and saw a skinny old prisoner squat down beside him. The man said nothing. Instead, he used a stick to trace in the dirt the sign of the Cross. The man then got back up and returned to his work.
As Solzhenitsyn stared at the Cross drawn in the dirt his entire perspective changed. He knew he was only one man against the all-powerful Soviet empire. Yet he knew there was something greater than the evil he saw in the prison camp, something greater than the Soviet Union. He knew that hope for all people was represented by that simple Cross. Through the power of the Cross, anything was possible.
Solzhenitsyn slowly rose to his feet, picked up his shovel, and went back to work. Outwardly, nothing had changed. Inside, he had received hope. [From Luke Veronis, “The Sign of the Cross”; Communion, issue 8, Pascha 1997.]
What that skinny old prisoner did for Solzhenitsyn, Jesus does for us today in telling us about the insistent widow and the unscrupulous judge. As Solzhenitsyn desperately needed a renewal of hope, so we need encouragement from time to time if we are to continue in prayer and not lose heart. The skinny old prisoner made lines in the dirt. Jesus does something different: he gives us a very important story.
There is this judge, Jesus says, who has neither decency nor conscience, a corrupt official interested only in his own advantage. A widow appears in his courtroom. She is poor and powerless, somebody not noticed by the movers and shakers in her town. She has no money to bribe this crooked judge; she cannot afford a lawyer to speak up for her. So you know what she does? She speaks up for herself! GRANT ME JUSTICE AGAINST MY OPPONENT! she shouts. When this does not bring her immediate results, she remains undaunted. She keeps returning to that courtroom, and refuses to be silent. GRANT ME JUSTICE AGAINST MY OPPONENT!
It is no surprise that the judge soon gets tired of this. In the original Greek, he compares her in-his-face attitude to getting a black eye. To spare himself further annoyance, the judge decides not simply to hear her case, but to grant her justice to spare himself annoyance. Now is this a portrait of God? That doesn’t seem to be what Jesus has in mind, though certainly that is how some people look at the practice of prayer. They hold a picture of God as an unscrupulous judge or a petty bureaucrat or an abusive parent. With such a picture before them, it’s startling that they ever pray at all.
God is not like that. Instead, the Lord is the author of all justice and compassion. It may be that we are to imitate, in our prayer, the persistence shown by the widow, but if so, it is not because God is hard-hearted and uncaring.
Let’s take another look at that judge. What do we know about him? We know that he is unscrupulous, without decency or conscience. He doesn’t respect people; there is no fear of God in him. He is a closed universe. This judge always has it figured out; he leaves no room for the possibility that God may have a more creative answer to questions his life presses upon him.
Do we know anyone who matches this description? Hmmm...how about you and me? Each of us fits that description and times, and some of us may make a career of doing so. There are those times, all too often, when each of us lives entirely unto ourselves. We refuse to allow that God may have a creative solution to problems that beset us, that God may offer us better things than we can ask for or imagine. Our decisions about life then leave no room for God, and no room for other people who have needs and wishes different from our own. The universe, as we understand it, becomes very small; we are its sole inhabitants.
If then the judge represents us, who does the loud-mouthed woman represent? Could it be that this poor and powerless woman, who demonstrates unlimited courage, is there as a reminder of God?
Certainly, this fits. God is ever attempting to break into our closed universe, to draw us into relationship, makes us recognize what our relationships with God and neighbor demand of us.
God is not the unjust judge, but the widow who wears him down. Where, then, is the unjust judge to be found? Listen carefully: that judge is inside each of us, and the purpose of our prayer is to wear him down, to wear him out, to force him to do justice. Prayer is the widow’s voice, strong and persistent, insisting that things be different.
Many people have trouble with prayer, or even give up the practice, because they think that praying is an exercise in telling God what God already knows, or persuading God to do what God wouldn’t do otherwise, or somehow changing God in one way or another. Prayer, any prayer worthy of the name, is quite the opposite. The primary effect of prayer is not on God, but on us. God’s love is already unconditional, God’s justice is already perfect, God’s compassion has always been will always be without limit.
God recognizes our needs even before we do. It’s not God who needs to change, it is up to us to get in line with God’s program, and prayer is a large part of how that comes about.
Prayer is our declaration that we don’t want to be a closed universe, dependent only on ourselves and our own solutions. Prayer is our desire to be open to God. In our prayer, the Holy Spirit speaks in the voice of the poor widow who demands justice from the unscrupulous judge. The miracle of prayer is that the judge’s resistance breaks down and for once he does what is right, and may even do so again in the future.
That loud-mouthed widow would not have succeeded had she not been persistent, confident, and unconcerned with what others thought of her. Our prayer needs to have that kind of determination, not because God is deaf but because opening our hearts to God is no easy matter.
There are many things in each of us that can keep God out. Sin is not the only obstacle. Attitudes of mind may keep the door shut and bolted. We may doubt that God hears us; we may consider ourselves unworthy; we may think God has better things to do than intervene in our lives. These attitudes can be driven out by persistent prayer, the voice of the widow who refuses to take no for an answer.
The story is told of a girl who watched a holy man praying at the riverbank. Once the man had finished his prayer, the girl approached him and asked, “Will you teach me to pray?” The holy man studied the girl’s face, and agreed to her request. He took her into the river. The holy man instructed her to lean over, so her face was close to the water. The girl did as she was told.
Then the holy man pushed her whole head under the water. Soon the girl struggled to free herself in order to breathe. Once she got her breath back, she gasped, “What did you do that for?” The holy man said, “I gave you your first lesson.” “What do you mean?” asked the astonished girl. He answered, “When you long to pray as much as you long to breathe, then I will be able to teach you how to pray.”
May each of us long to pray, and learn to pray, and to persist in our prayer—not so that we can change God, but so that God can change us, and help us enjoy that fullness of life God intends for us.
Now, may the peace of God, which passes all understanding, keep our hearts and minds in Christ Jesus our Lord. Amen.
© 2007 Laura Gentry
Sunday, October 14, 2007
YOUR DIVINE GLANCE
A Sermon for The Twentieth Sunday after Pentecost
October 14, 2007
by Pastor Laura Gentry
2 Kings 5:1-3, 7-15
Naaman, commander of the army of the king of Aram, was a great man and in high favor with his master, because by him the Lord had given victory to Aram. The man, though a mighty warrior, suffered from leprosy. Now the Arameans on one of their raids had taken a young girl captive from the land of Israel, and she served Naaman's wife. She said to her mistress, "If only my lord were with the prophet who is in Samaria! He would cure him of his leprosy."...
When the king of Israel read the letter, he tore his clothes and said, "Am I God, to give death or life, that this man sends word to me to cure a man of his leprosy? Just look and see how he is trying to pick a quarrel with me." But when Elisha the man of God heard that the king of Israel had torn his clothes, he sent a message to the king, "Why have you torn your clothes? Let him come to me, that he may learn that there is a prophet in Israel." So Naaman came with his horses and chariots, and halted at the entrance of Elisha's house. Elisha sent a messenger to him, saying, "Go, wash in the Jordan seven times, and your flesh shall be restored and you shall be clean." But Naaman became angry and went away, saying, "I thought that for me he would surely come out, and stand and call on the name of the Lord his God, and would wave his hand over the spot, and cure the leprosy! Are not Abana and Pharpar, the rivers of Damascus, better than all the waters of Israel? Could I not wash in them, and be clean?" He turned and went away in a rage. But his servants approached and said to him, "Father, if the prophet had commanded you to do something difficult, would you not have done it? How much more, when all he said to you was, 'Wash, and be clean'?" So he went down and immersed himself seven times in the Jordan, according to the word of the man of God; his flesh was restored like the flesh of a young boy, and he was clean. Then he returned to the man of God, he and all his company; he came and stood before him and said, "Now I know that there is no God in all the earth except in Israel…." (NRSV)
Grace and Peace to you from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.
In our first reading for today we hear about Naaman. He is commander of the army of Aram, which, in case you haven't brushed up on your ancient history lately, was an enemy of Israel. Naaman has probably killed many of God's promised people in his illustrious military career. For all practical purposes, he's one of the bad guys. If this story were made into a major motion picture cartoon, Naaman would probably be really scary-looking with a long chin and crooked nose, with ghostly white skin and dark, wild hair—and I’m sure his leprosy spots would look really gross.
But now this bad guy, this villain, is in trouble. We read that Naaman is "a great man and in high favor with his master," but though he is a mighty warrior, he is suffering from leprosy (I Kings 5:1). To have leprosy meant not only to be dangerously ill, but it meant that you were ostracized from all of society. If you had leprosy in biblical times, you would have to live outside the city, wear ripped clothing, wear your hear long and unkempt. And whenever you approached someone, you would have to cover your upper lip and shout, "Unclean, Unclean!" Leprosy was a social death sentence. So Naaman has all kinds of political power, yet he cannot fix his own ailment. This powerful man finds himself in a position of great need.
And then emerges a "little person" who offers a word of help: a young servant girl working for Naaman's wife. She is a Hebrew girl who had been taken from Israel during a military raid. Yet instead of being bitter to her captors, this girl willingly offers valuable information. She tells Naaman's wife that there is a prophet in Israel who can cure Naaman of his leprosy.
Now Naaman is just needy enough at this point to believe the little servant girl. So he pursues this alleged prophet of Israel. He asks his King for permission to go and be healed. What I find ironic, is that the King of Aram automatically assumes that this powerful prophet must be the King of Israel, which isn’t the case—Elisha is just an ordinary man. And he also assumes that the prophet can be bought. So he writes a letter, packs up a bunch of money and expensive garments for Naaman to use as payment for the healing and sends him on his way. Both Naaman and the King of Aram think that God is going to work on their terms, that they can continue in their arrogance and simply buy favors from God whenever they are in need—a common misconception about the way God works in the world.
But Naaman is about to have a rude awakening. When he presents the letter and the payment to the King of Israel, he finds that this man does not have the power to heal him. The King is so upset he rips his clothes and accuses Naaman of trying to pick a fight with him. Naaman is shocked and dismayed. He has come all this way, only to find there is no cure for him. It appears his only hope of wholeness is dashed.
And then, the prophet Elisha comes to the rescue. Remember Naaman is the bad guy, the enemy. But the prophet seeks to help him anyway, as a witness to God's power over all people. Elisha writes a message to the king saying, "Why have you torn your clothes? Let Naaman come to me, that he may learn that there is a prophet in Israel."
Naaman's hope is restored! He goes straight-away to the prophet's home. But when he gets there, Elisha doesn't even come out to see him. He sends another "little person" to do God's mighty work—a lowly messenger. This servant brings the message to Naaman: "Go, wash in the Jordan River seven times and your flesh will be clean." This is the point at which Naaman's pride takes over. His anger erupts and he storms away, saying, "I thought that for me—an important commander—he would surely come out, and stand and call on the name of the Lord his God, and would wave his hand over the spot, and cure the leprosy!" Naaman wants an Oscar award-winning drama. He wants all the bells and whistles because he thinks he is important. And all he gets is an instruction to wash in the river. How could healing of such a terrible disease as leprosy be accomplished by such a simple act? "No, this is ridiculous!" Naaman thinks. And his pride almost has the final say. He would rather go home a leper than humble himself and obey the seemingly silly command of this so-called prophet.
And then, for the third time in this story, a "little person" plays an extremely important role. This time, it is Naaman's servant, who is bold enough to approach Naaman while he is still in a storm of rage. The little servant begs him, "Father, if the prophet had commanded you to do something difficult, would you not have done it? How much more when all he said to you was, 'Wash and be clean'?"
In this moment, Naaman is confronted with the truth that he is blocking God's grace because of his own preconceived notions about the way God is supposed to act. He only wants healing from God in the way the he envisions it. But now God is willing to heal him through the instructions of Elisha, but Naaman’s not willing. Naaman wants to be in control. After all, he's the commanding officer with lots of money and status. But wisdom has come from the servant and Naaman realizes that he is not in control—God is. And now, the moment of truth: does Naaman want healing badly enough to submit to God?
The answer is yes. In humbleness, Naaman goes down to the Jordan and does exactly what the prophet tells him, immersing himself seven times. And as a result, his flesh is restored. Naaman, “the villain,” is transformed, he is healed and his country of Aram must concede that there is a prophet of God in Israel. For God is a God over all the nations—not just Israel, but Aram too.
Indeed, this is a complex story. Yet, what sticks out to me as I examine this narrative, is that the catalysts of this story, the people who really bring about Naaman's healing are all "insignificant people". They are the ones with no power in the eyes of the world: the captive slave girl from Israel, Elisha's messenger, and Naaman's anonymous servant. They were just doing their duty, serving God in their own little ways, and yet God powerfully uses them to bring about Naaman's healing. This story shows us how God often uses little people and little acts of service to do mighty things.
It reminds me of the Little Way of Thérèse of Lisieux, the French nun known as “the Little Flower.” Thérèse realized that her power did not come from herself, but from God alone. In one of her writings she said, "O Jesus! I feel that if You found a soul weaker and littler than mine, which is impossible, You would be pleased to grant it still greater favors...I beg You to cast Your Divine Glance upon a great number of little souls." Saint Thérèse realized that God was at work in all of the little things she did in her daily life, whether it was in treating others with unnecessary kindness, or in rendering little services without recognition—for in Christ, these are powerful works. She called her theory "the Little Way". The Little Way is deceptively simple—all it requires us do is to seek out the menial job, to welcome unjust criticisms, to befriend those who annoy us, to help those who are ungrateful, to do the little thankless jobs that need doing. Thérèse was convinced that these little deeds please Jesus more than great holy deeds. And the exciting thing is that anyone can do them. Thus, the path of Jesus is open to all—young and old, powerful and weak alike. The Little Way, she explained, "is based on a theology of grace that sees a God of infinite mercy suffusing and permeating every aspect of my personal existence. Every aspect. This God interacts with me at every second, immanent in all that happens to me, undergirding all the choices I make: everything is grace."
So you see, this God of grace whom we worship, uses the little people: like the servants, and messengers in the Naaman story—and God even uses you and me. But what we can also learn from this story, is that we must be willing to receive this grace. Naaman's pride almost prevented him from being healed. Even though he was a foreigner and an enemy of Israel, he wanted the royal treatment. Instead, he was simply told to go rinse off the muddy river. It took a lot of energy to turn from his prideful ways and do as the prophet’s messenger commanded. He had to be really willing to receive God’s grace.
But at least Naaman’s servant got him to come to his senses and stop blocking God’s grace. What blocks God's grace in our lives? What keeps us from receiving the divine glance God longs to lavish upon us? Are we like Naaman, too prideful, that we think we can take care of our own lives and we don’t actually need God in any significant way? Or is it the opposite extreme: that we cannot accept God's free grace because we feel we're not worthy? Or is it that we just don’t take the time to enter into a meaningful relationship with God on a daily basis because it’s not enough of a priority for us? Whatever the roadblocks may be, I invite you to dwell upon them and think about what you are willing to do to remove them. God urgently desires us to get rid of them and open ourselves so that God can heal us, make us whole and give us peace. For in Christ, our lives have grand significance as we serve our God in the little ways. Amen.
Now, may the peace of God, which passes all understanding, keep our hearts and minds in Christ Jesus our Lord. Amen.
© 2007 Laura E. Gentry
Sunday, October 7, 2007
SERVANTS ENTRANCE
A Sermon for The Nineteenth Sunday after Pentecost
October 7, 2007
by Pastor Laura Gentry
Luke 17:5-10
The apostles said to the Lord, “Increase our faith!” The Lord replied, “If you had faith the size of a mustard seed, you could say to this mulberry tree, ‘Be uprooted and planted in the sea,’ and it would obey you. “Who among you would say to your slave who has just come in from plowing or tending sheep in the field, ‘Come here at once and take your place at the table’? Would you not rather say to him, ‘Prepare supper for me, put on your apron and serve me while I eat and drink; later you may eat and drink’? Do you thank the slave for doing what was commanded? So you also, when you have done all that you were ordered to do, say, ‘We are worthless slaves; we have done only what we ought to have done!’”(NRSV)
Grace and Peace to you from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.
Rabbi Harold Kushner tells a wonderful story about a bright young man, who was a sophomore Stanford pre-med student. To reward him for having done so well in school, his parents gave him a trip to the Far East for the summer vacation before the start of his junior year. While there, he met a guru who said to him, “Don't you see how you are poisoning your soul with this success oriented way of life? Your idea of happiness is to stay up all night studying for an exam so you can get a better grade than your best friend. Your idea of a good marriage is not to find the woman who will make you whole, but to win the girl that everyone else wants. That's not how people are supposed to live. Give it up; come join us in an atmosphere where we all share and love each other.” The young man worked so hard to get into Stanford, but had become so competitive and had lost his integrity in the process. He was ripe for this sort of approach. He called his parents from Tokyo and told them he would not be coming home. He was dropping out of school to live in a monastery, called an ashram.
Six months later, his parents got a letter from him: “Dear Mom and Dad, I know you weren't happy with the decision I made last summer, but I want to tell you how happy it has made me. For the first time in my life, I am at peace. Here there is no competing, no hustling, no trying to get ahead of anyone else. Here we are all equal, and we all share. This way of life is so much in harmony with the inner essence of my soul that in only six months I've become the number two disciple in the entire ashram, and I think I can be number one by June!”
They say that all good humor must have one crucial element: Truth. Indeed, this story rings true. The young man's intentions were noble but he was not able to follow through. Before long he was competing in the monastery to be the star pupil!
This is the same mistake Jesus’ disciples make in today’s Gospel lesson. They say to him, “Increase our Faith!” as if they think a person can have more or less faith. Why didn’t they think they had enough faith? A few verses early, Jesus sent them out with power over demons and diseases. They preached with boldness. They went around without any supplies of their own. They had the faith to trust God for all their necessities. They had the faith to heal the sick and cast out demons. They had the faith to proclaim the coming Kingdom of God. Yet, now, like the young man in the ashram, they think they need more faith.
And yet their plea demonstrates that they recognize that faith is not just a matter of their own strength. They cannot increase their own faith without God’s help. We Lutherans affirm what Saint Paul wrote, that we are saved by grace through faith and that it is not our own doing (Eph 2:8). But even the faith through which we receive God’s gift of grace is a gift. I think that our growth in faith is usually a movement from faith to faith (rather than from unbelief to faith). While the faith you have today is similar to the faith given at baptism, it is also different—as God’s word has watered it, it has grown firm and steadfast.
Still, faith is not a commodity, like wealth, that a person can accumulate. So Jesus sets out to explain more about faith to his disciples. He says, “If you had faith the size of a mustard seed, you could say to this mulberry tree, ‘Be uprooted and planted in the sea,’ and it would obey you.” Scholars interpret the tense used in the original Greek here to mean that they already have the faith of a mustard seed—it is not an “if only you had the faith of a mustard seed,” but more of an affirmation that they presently do have the kind of faith that can move mulberry trees! All they need to do is believe and act on their existing faith and they can do as they’ve been called: to rebuke, repent and forgive within the community, and it will happen. In essence, Jesus seems to be saying that God doesn’t need to give them any more faith—all they must do is make use of the faith that they already have. A mustard seed is all it takes
But I haven’t moved any mulberry trees or mountains lately, have you? Does that mean that we don’t even the faith that’s as tiny as a mustard seed? No, but what this passage makes us recognize, then, is that we need to lean on our faith more, to trust it more. The gift of faith is already ours, the question is, will we use it? I remember a little prayer I read years ago, related to this text. It goes something like: “O God, I don't pray for enough faith to move mountains. I can get enough dynamite and bulldozers to do that. What I need and ask for is enough faith to move me.” Perhaps simply trusting God is more miraculous than supernatural acts like flying trees and moving mountains. “What I need and ask for is enough faith to move me.”
Then Jesus goes on to tell his disciples what they ought to do with this gift of mustard seed faith: there is much work to be done. And regardless of how much the disciples do, they cannot do more than what is expected of them. That’s a tall order, but then again, they’ve been given the miracle of faith. So Jesus tells a parable about a slave. It is interesting that this parable presents an opposite picture of the master and slaves given early in Luke (12:37) when the master returns home to find the slaves waiting for him so he has them sit down to eat and he serves them. In today’s parable, he says that the master would not say to the slave “Come here at once and take your place at the table,” but would instead have the slave get to work—for that is his job.
Jesus asks the disciples if they, as masters, would thank a slave for doing his job. The word “thank” here, can also be translated as “credit,” implying that the slave cannot earn special credits for doing only what was required of him. Do we expect to earn credits with God or gain God's favor simply by doing what God has asked us to do? The point is that we cannot. We cannot win God’s favor by doing good things any more than a slave could earn the master’s favor by obeying his orders.
You see, if the apostles get the increased faith they want so that they can do what is expected of them: stand up to temptations and not be the cause of temptations, rebuke and forgive those who have sinned against them, and repent of their own sins—they still haven’t done anything extraordinary, only what is expected of them. Therefore, they should not expect any special favors from God for being such a great Christian.
Have you ever given a nice gift to someone and then not received a thank you note? Perhaps you mailed the gift and without a thank you note, you don’t even know if the person received it or not. It can be very upsetting. In our culture, we kind of expect thank yous. But we cannot treat God the same way. Do we somehow think God owes us a thank you because we go to church and perhaps we even read the bible on our own time and pray and try to behave like a Christian most of the time? Do we think we’ve done something above and beyond the call of duty that deserves special recognition? Well, this parable puts a damper on that kind of thinking.
What this story reminds us, is that doesn’t God owe us anything for living good, Christian, lives. God’s favor and blessing are matters of grace—they are gifts and cannot be earned. God loves us because he chooses to love us, not because we are lovable. Therefore, when we assume that we can deal with God on the basis of what God owes us, we have made a basic mistake. If that’s the case, we have rejected grace as the basis of our relationship to God and based that relationship on our own worth and merit. We must be humble enough to remember that we are saved by grace, not by works.
Nevertheless, there is a lot of work to be done. I remember that in the church where I was youth director in Montana, there were signs over the exits that said in big, bold letters, “Servant’s Entrance.” People would comment from time to time about the signs, asking, “These are the exits, so why does it say ‘servant’s entrance’?” The pastor would explain, “Because when you leave the house of worship, you are entering the world where you are called to be servants.” Passing through those servant’s entrance doors often helped me put things into perspective as I left worship. We are not here to get puffed up and think about how wonderful and religious we are and how much God owes us for that. We are here to have our faith increased, so that we can be more equipped to do the duties to which we have been called, for example: coming to worship regularly, sharing our time and talents with this congregation and with our community, sacrificing our own pleasures for the sake of those in need, proclaiming the gospel of God’s love in all that we do, seeking to follow in Christ’s footsteps. Now these duties may sound like a lot, but truly, it is the least we can do considering how much God has freely given us.
You may be saying that you are not equipped to do such difficult things for God. That’s just what the disciples were saying when they asked Jesus to increase their faith. Author Madeleine L’Engle put it beautifully when she wrote, “I don't have to have some special qualification to do what I have to do. All I have to do is have the courage to go on and do it.” God has already given you the faith to do these amazing things, that’s all the qualification you need. You just have to have the courage to walk through the servant’s entrance when you leave here today, and take up your duty of service. God will do the rest. You’ll be amazed.
Now may the peace of God, which passes all understanding, keep our hearts and our minds in Christ Jesus our Lord. Amen.
© 2007 Laura E. Gentry
October 7, 2007
by Pastor Laura Gentry
Luke 17:5-10
The apostles said to the Lord, “Increase our faith!” The Lord replied, “If you had faith the size of a mustard seed, you could say to this mulberry tree, ‘Be uprooted and planted in the sea,’ and it would obey you. “Who among you would say to your slave who has just come in from plowing or tending sheep in the field, ‘Come here at once and take your place at the table’? Would you not rather say to him, ‘Prepare supper for me, put on your apron and serve me while I eat and drink; later you may eat and drink’? Do you thank the slave for doing what was commanded? So you also, when you have done all that you were ordered to do, say, ‘We are worthless slaves; we have done only what we ought to have done!’”(NRSV)
Grace and Peace to you from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.
Rabbi Harold Kushner tells a wonderful story about a bright young man, who was a sophomore Stanford pre-med student. To reward him for having done so well in school, his parents gave him a trip to the Far East for the summer vacation before the start of his junior year. While there, he met a guru who said to him, “Don't you see how you are poisoning your soul with this success oriented way of life? Your idea of happiness is to stay up all night studying for an exam so you can get a better grade than your best friend. Your idea of a good marriage is not to find the woman who will make you whole, but to win the girl that everyone else wants. That's not how people are supposed to live. Give it up; come join us in an atmosphere where we all share and love each other.” The young man worked so hard to get into Stanford, but had become so competitive and had lost his integrity in the process. He was ripe for this sort of approach. He called his parents from Tokyo and told them he would not be coming home. He was dropping out of school to live in a monastery, called an ashram.
Six months later, his parents got a letter from him: “Dear Mom and Dad, I know you weren't happy with the decision I made last summer, but I want to tell you how happy it has made me. For the first time in my life, I am at peace. Here there is no competing, no hustling, no trying to get ahead of anyone else. Here we are all equal, and we all share. This way of life is so much in harmony with the inner essence of my soul that in only six months I've become the number two disciple in the entire ashram, and I think I can be number one by June!”
They say that all good humor must have one crucial element: Truth. Indeed, this story rings true. The young man's intentions were noble but he was not able to follow through. Before long he was competing in the monastery to be the star pupil!
This is the same mistake Jesus’ disciples make in today’s Gospel lesson. They say to him, “Increase our Faith!” as if they think a person can have more or less faith. Why didn’t they think they had enough faith? A few verses early, Jesus sent them out with power over demons and diseases. They preached with boldness. They went around without any supplies of their own. They had the faith to trust God for all their necessities. They had the faith to heal the sick and cast out demons. They had the faith to proclaim the coming Kingdom of God. Yet, now, like the young man in the ashram, they think they need more faith.
And yet their plea demonstrates that they recognize that faith is not just a matter of their own strength. They cannot increase their own faith without God’s help. We Lutherans affirm what Saint Paul wrote, that we are saved by grace through faith and that it is not our own doing (Eph 2:8). But even the faith through which we receive God’s gift of grace is a gift. I think that our growth in faith is usually a movement from faith to faith (rather than from unbelief to faith). While the faith you have today is similar to the faith given at baptism, it is also different—as God’s word has watered it, it has grown firm and steadfast.
Still, faith is not a commodity, like wealth, that a person can accumulate. So Jesus sets out to explain more about faith to his disciples. He says, “If you had faith the size of a mustard seed, you could say to this mulberry tree, ‘Be uprooted and planted in the sea,’ and it would obey you.” Scholars interpret the tense used in the original Greek here to mean that they already have the faith of a mustard seed—it is not an “if only you had the faith of a mustard seed,” but more of an affirmation that they presently do have the kind of faith that can move mulberry trees! All they need to do is believe and act on their existing faith and they can do as they’ve been called: to rebuke, repent and forgive within the community, and it will happen. In essence, Jesus seems to be saying that God doesn’t need to give them any more faith—all they must do is make use of the faith that they already have. A mustard seed is all it takes
But I haven’t moved any mulberry trees or mountains lately, have you? Does that mean that we don’t even the faith that’s as tiny as a mustard seed? No, but what this passage makes us recognize, then, is that we need to lean on our faith more, to trust it more. The gift of faith is already ours, the question is, will we use it? I remember a little prayer I read years ago, related to this text. It goes something like: “O God, I don't pray for enough faith to move mountains. I can get enough dynamite and bulldozers to do that. What I need and ask for is enough faith to move me.” Perhaps simply trusting God is more miraculous than supernatural acts like flying trees and moving mountains. “What I need and ask for is enough faith to move me.”
Then Jesus goes on to tell his disciples what they ought to do with this gift of mustard seed faith: there is much work to be done. And regardless of how much the disciples do, they cannot do more than what is expected of them. That’s a tall order, but then again, they’ve been given the miracle of faith. So Jesus tells a parable about a slave. It is interesting that this parable presents an opposite picture of the master and slaves given early in Luke (12:37) when the master returns home to find the slaves waiting for him so he has them sit down to eat and he serves them. In today’s parable, he says that the master would not say to the slave “Come here at once and take your place at the table,” but would instead have the slave get to work—for that is his job.
Jesus asks the disciples if they, as masters, would thank a slave for doing his job. The word “thank” here, can also be translated as “credit,” implying that the slave cannot earn special credits for doing only what was required of him. Do we expect to earn credits with God or gain God's favor simply by doing what God has asked us to do? The point is that we cannot. We cannot win God’s favor by doing good things any more than a slave could earn the master’s favor by obeying his orders.
You see, if the apostles get the increased faith they want so that they can do what is expected of them: stand up to temptations and not be the cause of temptations, rebuke and forgive those who have sinned against them, and repent of their own sins—they still haven’t done anything extraordinary, only what is expected of them. Therefore, they should not expect any special favors from God for being such a great Christian.
Have you ever given a nice gift to someone and then not received a thank you note? Perhaps you mailed the gift and without a thank you note, you don’t even know if the person received it or not. It can be very upsetting. In our culture, we kind of expect thank yous. But we cannot treat God the same way. Do we somehow think God owes us a thank you because we go to church and perhaps we even read the bible on our own time and pray and try to behave like a Christian most of the time? Do we think we’ve done something above and beyond the call of duty that deserves special recognition? Well, this parable puts a damper on that kind of thinking.
What this story reminds us, is that doesn’t God owe us anything for living good, Christian, lives. God’s favor and blessing are matters of grace—they are gifts and cannot be earned. God loves us because he chooses to love us, not because we are lovable. Therefore, when we assume that we can deal with God on the basis of what God owes us, we have made a basic mistake. If that’s the case, we have rejected grace as the basis of our relationship to God and based that relationship on our own worth and merit. We must be humble enough to remember that we are saved by grace, not by works.
Nevertheless, there is a lot of work to be done. I remember that in the church where I was youth director in Montana, there were signs over the exits that said in big, bold letters, “Servant’s Entrance.” People would comment from time to time about the signs, asking, “These are the exits, so why does it say ‘servant’s entrance’?” The pastor would explain, “Because when you leave the house of worship, you are entering the world where you are called to be servants.” Passing through those servant’s entrance doors often helped me put things into perspective as I left worship. We are not here to get puffed up and think about how wonderful and religious we are and how much God owes us for that. We are here to have our faith increased, so that we can be more equipped to do the duties to which we have been called, for example: coming to worship regularly, sharing our time and talents with this congregation and with our community, sacrificing our own pleasures for the sake of those in need, proclaiming the gospel of God’s love in all that we do, seeking to follow in Christ’s footsteps. Now these duties may sound like a lot, but truly, it is the least we can do considering how much God has freely given us.
You may be saying that you are not equipped to do such difficult things for God. That’s just what the disciples were saying when they asked Jesus to increase their faith. Author Madeleine L’Engle put it beautifully when she wrote, “I don't have to have some special qualification to do what I have to do. All I have to do is have the courage to go on and do it.” God has already given you the faith to do these amazing things, that’s all the qualification you need. You just have to have the courage to walk through the servant’s entrance when you leave here today, and take up your duty of service. God will do the rest. You’ll be amazed.
Now may the peace of God, which passes all understanding, keep our hearts and our minds in Christ Jesus our Lord. Amen.
© 2007 Laura E. Gentry
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