A PARTY INVITATION FROM WISDOM

A sermon for the 11th Sunday after Pentecost, Year B

by Pastor Laura Gentry

Eph. 5:15-20 • Prov. 9:1-6 • John 6:51-58

I have this habit of personifying objects. For example, my husband got a nice little flashlight from a man named Charlie. It is the best flashlight we’ve ever had. So we started referring to it as “the flashlight from Charlie.” Well, then after time, it got shortened down to just “Charlie” and then we started using a male pronoun for it. We’d say things like: “can you bring Charlie so he can help me find the sock under the bed?” One time a repairman was in our basement and needed a flashlight. William shouted up the steps to me: “Go get Charlie!” Immediately, I showed up with the flashlight, much to the amazement of the repairman.

Perhaps you do this too. Cherished objects almost seem like friends in need of names. I know some people give names to their cars. Well, in the ancient wisdom literature, the concept of wisdom is personified also. Though it is not a person, it has such importance that it is referred to metaphorically as a woman who takes action. There are whole “wisdom” books in the Bible, such as Proverbs. The sayings in this book are collected bits of wisdom from God’s people over the centuries.

In this morning’s reading from the 7th chapter of Proverbs, Wisdom is active as usual. This time she’s throwing a party. She’s got a big house with 7 pillars—which refers to divinity. 7 is a divine, Godly number throughout scripture. And wisdom has made a feast and set the table. She is very serious about this party and wants to make sure that there are lots of people in attendance so she sends out her servants to do the inviting.

“You that are simple, turn in here,” calls out Wisdom from the highest places.

“Come, eat of my bread and drink the wine I have mixed. Lay aside immaturity, and live, and walk in the way of insight.”

In the chapter before, Wisdom explains that she was with God at the very creation of the world. She was beside him as he spun the universe’s glory and now she delights in his creation. She rejoices before the Lord.

Not only that, she outlines her value. She says: “Take my instruction instead of silver, and knowledge rather than choice gold; for wisdom is better than jewels, and all that you may desire cannot compare with her. (Prov. 8:10-11)

Then, goes on to give this important advise: “My children, listen to me: happy are those who keep my ways. Happy is the one who listens to me, watching daily at my gates, waiting beside my doors. For whoever finds me finds life and obtains favor from the Lord; but those who miss me injure themselves; all who hate me love death.” (Prov. 8:32-36)

The great Wisdom calls to us, even today. She invites us to her party. She fiercely wants us to turn to her no matter how simple we may be, to come and feast at her table—to let go of our immature and foolish ways so that we can truly live. When we live in the bosom of Wisdom, we are happy. When we turn away from it, however, we miss out on a great treasure more valuable than jewels and we injure ourselves. Wisdom is not fooling around here. She means business.

Paul speaks of Wisdom also. In today’s reading he writes that we ought not to live as unwise people. Instead, we should embrace wisdom. He says this is especially important because the days are evil. He doesn’t say this to scare us but simply to remind us of the world from which Christ has redeemed us. He has come to deliver us from these evil days, to move us from brokenness to healing, forgiveness and grace.

So the party is already happening—with or without us. God in his wisdom created the world and went to all efforts to redeem it. Through Christ, we have all been sent an invitation to the party. Wisdom is keenly interested in our RSVP. Will we say yes or will we say no?

Here at worship, Wisdom is celebrating. She is offering us her knowledge when we hear scripture read and preached and when we come to the table to receive the body and blood of Christ who reminds us yet again in today’s Gospel that he is our bread. He is here to nourish our weary bones, to revive us and make us whole and strong. Yes, you’ve come to the right place if you are thinking about saying yes to Wisdom’s kind invitation.

It’s not easy—being wise. The evil days we live in try to draw us away from Wisdom at every turn. We turn on the television or go to a movie or overhear a conversation and it all seems to be about seemingly insignificant matter, what I call the “shallow life.” Everybody’s just going about their routine, doing their own thing, not concerned with much more than their own basic needs. Paul called them fools and said their god is their stomach. They miss out on the riches of God’s grace. They injure themselves. It is all too easy to jump on the world’s bandwagon and miss out on the treasure of Wisdom.

But even when you consciously decide that you want to be wise, that you want to cling to God and live according to it, you still have trouble. Thomas Merton, the monastic theologian, was thought to be so enlightened, so close to God. Yet even he struggled. Once wrote this to God:

”...nor do I really know myself, and the fact that I think I am following you will doesn’t mean that I am actually doing so. But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you. And I hope I have that desire in all that I am doing.”

Merton was on to something here, I think. We are by nature sinful. We will always miss the mark when it comes to living righteously. But being wise is about desiring God, desiring to please God. That desire alone will please God. Our desire should be to imitate Christ to the degree that we are able and trust that the Spirit will guide us and nudge us in the right direction. We should seek to know Christ so much that his heart become our heart. We will love as he loves. That is true Wisdom. That is the place of abundant living. That’s the party we want to go to. And the party is not just one time or place, the party is LIFE if we are living it in Christ’s love.

That all sounds great, but how do we get to the party? Based on the insights of today’s scriptures, I have two pieces of advise.

LISTEN & LEARN

The first is to listen and learn. We must recognize that the treasure is in God. We are called to seek this treasure with all that is in us. Are we listening to God in scripture? Are we learning God’s ways? Are we listening in the events of our lives? The insights of fellow Christians? Our whole life is a learning experience when we allow it to be. If we want wisdom, we must study. God is eager to give it if only we listen and learn.

LET GO & LOVE

Secondly, we must let go and love. To come to Wisdom’s party, she says we must “turn in here.” That means we have to leave our old path, our selfish, shallow ways and turn into the Wisdom only God can give. The goal of the Christian life is to be one with God. Can we surrender ourselves entirely to the one who loves us infinitely?

Day after day, we must die to ourselves so that we can live to Christ. That is not an easy task. Letting go is so painful because that sinful part inside wants to call the shots instead of letting God do so. To come to Wisdom’s party, however, we absolutely must let go. And when we do, we allow Wisdom to grow and to fill us with the love of Christ. Then, we can love without reason or limits. We can love in a way that heals us and our evil days. We can be a part of Spirit’s effort to bring about the kingdom of God. Then, we will have abundant life. That’s where true happiness can be found. And it all begins with desiring God’s will.

Listen and Learn. Let go and love. Wisdom is having a great big party right here in the midst of our lives. Are you coming?

Let us pray: God of all Wisdom, you have filled us with your Spirit and led us to what the world calls foolishness, the Cross, to give us life eternal. We praise you for feeding us your teaching, filling us with your nourishing love. Lead us away from Foolishness. Direct us toward eating the Bread of Life and helping to feed the world. In the name of Jesus we pray. Amen.

Now may the peace of God which passes all understanding keep our hearts and minds in Christ Jesus our Lord.

COMFORT FOOD

A Sermon for the 10th Sunday after Pentecost, Year B

by Pastor Laura Gentry 

1 Kings 19:4-8, John 6:35-51 & Ephesians 4:25-5:2

I have a confession: I love cinnamon rolls. I love them not just because they taste so good but because they remind me of childhood. My Grandma Smith used to make the best cinnamon rolls. I remember my sister, Kathy, was determined to get Grandma’s recipe so she asked her to write it down. Since Grandma never used a recipe, she thought she’d have some fun with Kathy. So Grandma and I sat down and wrote out the whole recipe with humorous ambiguity. As I recall, it went something like this: Heat some milk in a pan. Throw a bit of butter in with it. Add a dab of water and an egg or two. Then dump a whole bunch of flour into it, but not too much. Oh, but before you do that, make sure there is some yeast, sugar and salt in it. Stir it all together and kneed it for a while. Then let it rise until it’s pretty risen. Needless to say, Kathy never could quite replicate those cinnamon rolls they way Grandma did. Nevertheless, even the smell of a good cinnamon roll makes me feel happy inside.

There has been much talk in recent years about “comfort food.” In 1972 it was added to Webster’s Dictionary. The way it works is that when we are children, we associate flavors of foods with pleasant memories. In this way, certain foods become like security blankets for us.

Well, in today’s gospel lesson, Jesus is talking about bread again today. For those of you with perfect worship attendance for the lst few weeks, you know that this is the third week in a row that we’ve had a bread-centric gospel reading. We’ve heard about Jesus being the bread of life in Mark’s gospel and now we hear about it from John’s gospel. And here’re a preview of things to come: we’ve got 2 more weeks of gospels about bread. So what’s with all the bread talk? Did the people who put the lectionary readings together figure that lots of people miss church in the summer time so no one person will have to hear all 5 of these sets of readings? Did they just figure they could stick them all hear in August and nobody would notice? It seems to me that this is an extremely important point and so they keep giving us readings to help us really “get it.”

There’s something really comprehensible about bread. It is a staple in our lives. It is symbolic of all food, really. And food is so very important to us. Think about how much time and energy you put into food preparation. Perhaps you plan menus. Then you have to obtain your groceries or grow them yourself. With all the rain we’ve been having, that’s difficult. Yesterday, I found my tomato plants had crashed into my pond (tomato cages and all), which very much disturbed the little turtles who live in the pond. But back to food preparation. You’ve got to prepare your ingredients into tasty dishes and then when the whole meal is over you’ve got to clean it all up. That’s the worst part, I think. Food is a big deal.

But we have to go to all this work (or else go out to eat) because without food we will die. It’s not a luxury item. We need food for sustenance. Perhaps that is why Jesus as the bread of life is such a powerful metaphor. Without Christ, we die. Without him, we cannot have abundant life or the promise of eternal life.

And as I’ve said, we usually associate food and positive feelings. Food is our comfort. It gives us a sense of warmth, security and connection with those we are eating with. Bread is comfort. Even cinnamon rolls bring comfort.

When Jesus tells his disciples that he is the bread of life and that whoever eats of this bread will live forever, he is not just talking about some happy promise to come. He is saying that he is our comfort in the present tense. By believing in him, we are given abundant life that begins today and lasts for eternity.

Sometimes I hear people use the expression: “I’ll rest when I get to heaven.” And this always annoys me. I’m busy too, but it implies that they will just work their way through life being miserable and trust that they’ll eventually get to be happy and rested in the life to come. This seems to miss the point that Jesus is making here that the bread he brings is for NOW, not something that we have to delay enjoying. He said that he has come to bring life and life abundantly, that he has come that his joy may be in us and our joy may be complete. That’s good bread. That’s the ultimate comfort food.

And we hear about comfort food in the reading from First Kings today too. In this section of the story, Elijah has triumphantly defeated the prophets of Bael on Mount Horeb. He has won the prophet showdown. He’s the rock star of the prophet world—amazingly proving that his God is more powerful than the false gods of Bael. So is he happy? No, because now he’s running for his life. Queen Jezebel has ordered him to be killed. Now, on the run, Elijah is zapped of his strength. He cannot go on. But has been faithful and so God provides for him. An angel feeds him bread baked on a stone and gives him a jar of water as well. This supply of food lasted Elijah 40 days and 40 nights. If only my groceries would last that long!

I think this story, combined with our gospel reading, reminds us that God is our sustenance. He provides for us—he give us his very son to feast upon. Sometimes we feel empty and worn out, like Elijah before the angel arrived. The journey can often be a rocky road. As the God-become-flesh in Jesus, God is well aware of how difficult our journey is. And that’s why he gave us himself, the bread of life. And we can partake of this good bread in the word and sacrament. That’s why we show up here in worship. We know we need this bread to live. We are weary and we need to hear the gospel read and preached, we need to participate in the hymns of faith, we need to confess our sins and hear the graceful word of forgiveness, we need to be reminded of our baptisms through which we became God’s own, and we need to come forward and receive Christ’s body and blood in the bread and wine of Holy Communion. The whole service from start to finish is spiritual comfort food to keep us moving forward in this journey of faith.

To have faith means to admit we can’t do it on our own. In the same way my sister could never make Grandma’s secret cinnamon roll recipe, we cannot find the recipe to eternal life on our own. We cannot save ourselves no matter how well we attempt to behave. We are beggars to God. Like Elijah, we are lost in the wilderness and we need God to provide this bread for us. The good news is that God is eager to do so.

In the reading from Ephesians today, Paul urges us to reach out and take this bread of life—to let it change us from the inside out. We ought to let go of the old and allow God to make us new. We ought to leave the darkness behind and enter into the light of God’s glorious new day. We ought to put away our selfish, childishness and behave with the maturity the Spirit gives us. And thus, we should leave foolishness behind and live in wisdom. He says we should let go of these old ways in the same way you would take off your dirty clothes so that you could change them out for new, clean ones. Put off the old ways, he says, and put on Christ.

It is time for us to put off our pity-parties and our oh-poor-me notions that keep us from moving forward in faith. We HAVE the bread of life. We are able to feast on it through faith each and every day. And this strengthens us to be the people we were created to be. We really CAN put off bitterness, rage, anger, slander and every form of malice. We can put on kindness, compassion, and forgiveness. We can shine with the light of Christ, who is our bread!

That’s why we have such good comfort food: because we have important work to do. God wants to heal us and move us into the exciting life of faithfulness. Let’s eat our fill and put on new life! Amen.

Now may the peace of God keep our hearts and minds in Christ Jesus our Lord. Amen.

THE BREAD OF LIFE

A Sermon for the 9th Sunday after Pentecost, Year B

By Pastor Laura Gentry

John 6:41-51 & Ephesians 4:1-16

Grace and peace to you from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.  

The crowd that surrounded Jesus in our Gospel lesson in John became angry at what they thought was arrogance. How dare he call himself the bread of life?  He’s just a regular guy from Nazareth. How can he satisfy us? They don’t understand.

 

Yet, just a few verses earlier, this crowd was totally excited about Jesus—so much so that they tried to make him king. They had seen a little boy's lunch turn into a spread for thousands, with 12 baskets of leftovers. The miracle was amazing but they were understanding it more as a magic trick than a sign illustrating who Jesus really was. He tried to get through to them, nevertheless. He said he was the bread of life, something that would last far longer than the bread we eat. What he brings will satisfy the very hunger if their souls. But they can’t see it. They do not have the eyes of faith. And so they miss the bread of life he offers them.

Do we see Jesus as the bread of life? I mean, really know him in that way? Do we feast on this bread that gives life? Or are we missing the banquet? The theologian Karl Barth wrote, "Were we to hear only of a god who measures up to our rule and is able to do what we can also do for ourselves without him, what need have we of such a god? Whenever the church has preached such a tiresome little god it has grown empty."  We need bread that is truly satisfactory.  But where can we find it?

 

In the letter to the church at Ephesus, there is a challenge that sets a high standard: "Therefore be imitators of God as beloved children, and live in love, as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us, a fragrant offering, a sacrifice for God." The point of this passage is that if we want to feast on the bread of life, we must follow in the way of Jesus—we must imitate him.

 

There is a legend of a man with a scarred face. He was embarrassed of it and so he made a mask to cover it. He made the mask look like a saint. It was a beautiful, flawless face on the mask and the man wore it always. He even fell in love and got married but even his wife was not allowed to see his real face.  Years go by and finally the people of his village find out about his scarred face. They legend goes that they are desperate to see who he really is and how what his face looks like behind the mask. So they surround him and rip it off. They are shocked to find out that his face has taken the form of the saintly mask. By pretending to be a saint all these years, he has inadvertently become one! 

 

The lesson of this legend is that we become what we habitually imitate. We become what we think and do. The thoughts that fill our minds, the passions that drive us, the habits we fall into—all of these things are building blocks that form us into who we are. If we fill our hearts and minds with the shallow, empty things of our popular culture—or if we cling to our hurts and angers, our resentments and bitter feelings, we're only hurting ourselves. Martin Luther explained it this way: "You cannot keep the birds from flying over your head, but you can keep them from building a nest in your hair."  What he meant was that we will always have sinful thoughts, but we can’t welcome these thoughts and let them get a foothold in our hearts.  If we do, we are feasting on the world, not the bread of heaven.

We become the patterns by which we live. Christ, the bread of life, wants us to feast on him, not these empty things. He wants us to fill our hearts and minds with God's Word. He wants us to work on loving as he loves, caring as he cares. In all things, we are to be imitators of God. That’s what the Christian life is all about.

 

John Wesley once wrote, "First let us agree what religion is. I take religion to be, not the mere saying over of so many prayers, morning and evening, in public or private, but a constant ruling habit of the soul, a renewal of our beings in the image of God, a recovery of the Divine likeness, a self-increasing conformity of heart and life to the pattern of our most holy redeemer."

In Paul’s letter to the Ephesians, which we heard a reading from today, we hear some good advise for how to create a constant ruling habit of the soul. Keep in mind that things aren’t going well for Paul at the time he writes this—he is imprisoned for his evangelism. But instead of feeling sorry for himself, he is writing powerful letters from prision. Let’s listen again to the beginning of this chapter:

“I therefore, the prisoner in the Lord, beg you to lead a life worthy of the calling to which you have been called, with all humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another in love, making every effort to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace. There is one body and one Spirit, just as you were called to the one hope of your calling, one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and Father of all, who is above all and through all and in all.”

Aha! There is the secret. We’ve got to figure out how we can stand one another. That’s what he said! We need to summon all our humility, gentleness, patience and love so that we can live together in peace. Being an imitator of Christ is no easy work but it is vital because when we do, we can live in love as one body with one faith through our one baptism in our one God.

So you see that having the bread of life to eat is not just a personal matter. We partake of Christ together, as a family. And that means we have to be extra cautious in how we deal with one another. We can’t be mean and self-centered because that would cause hurt to our fellow believers—our brothers and sisters in Christ. We are called to bring our gifts to the table so that together we can build up the body of Christ. That’s what the bread of heaven can do for us and for our community—not just this congregation but all believers in Christ everywhere. But we’ve got to live it. We’ve got to take action.

 

The Danish theologian Søren Kierkegaard told a parable of a community of ducks waddling off to duck church to hear the duck preacher. The duck preacher spoke eloquently of how God had given the ducks wings with which to fly. With these wings there was nowhere the ducks could not go. With those wings they could soar. Shouts of "Amen!" were quacked throughout the duck congregation. At the conclusion of the service, the ducks left commenting on the message and waddled back home. They never flew.

 

There were some who knew Jesus personally and they enjoyed his miracle of the feeding of the 5000 but when they heard him preach, they were like the ducks. They didn’t get it. The waddled home. Let’s learn from them so that we can avoid being waddlers too.  Jesus is offering us himself, the bread of life so that we can live a life worthy of the calling. This is of ultimate importance.   Let us not waddle home today, but let us feast on Jesus and fly home.

Now may the peace of God keep our hearts and minds in Christ Jesus our Lord.  Amen.

ABUNDANCE

A Sermon for the 8th Sunday after Pentecost, Year B
by Pastor Laura Gentry

John 6:1-21 & Ephesians 4:14-21


Oh no! How are we going to feed all these people? That is the serious concern in today’s gospel lesson. At this point in his ministry, Jesus is attracting a huge crowd wherever he goes. Word has spread about the healing power he posesses. And in this passage, they are on the other side of the Sea of Galilee, up on the mountain and Jesus is surrounded a fantastic-sized audience. So he tests Philip by asking him where they can buy bread for all these people.

Philip kind of freaks out here. He has no idea how they could afford to buy bread for them all. He says that even six months’ wages wouldn’t be enough. It seems totally impossible.

As people of faith, we know that nothing is impossible for God. With God, everything is infinitely possible. God’s power is "far more than all we can ask or imagine," as we read in our lesson for today from Ephesians.

This is certainly the case in this story. It is discovered that a little boy in the crowd has packed a sack lunch and presumably is generously offering it for the group. The only problem, however, is that his lunch consists of five loaves of barley bread and two little fish and the crowd is 5,000 men plus women and children. Impossible? Absolutely. But Jesus blesses the lunch and it is distributed. Shockingly, there is enough for everyone and so many leftovers that it takes 12 baskets just to gather them!

It is much more than they could ask or imagine. Truly this feeding is miraculous, but in John’s gospel these events are called signs rather than miracles. They are signs because they point to deeper truths about who Jesus is and what he has come to do. This sign cannot be taken at face value—we must probe deeper. It is not about Jesus being a guy who magically makes bread and fish multiply. It is about the fact that Jesus is himself the bread of life, the one who will soon nourish them with his own body and blood. Bread satisfies hunger for the moment but he satisfies spiritual hunger for all time. Jesus made a similar statement to the woman at the well—calling himself living water. Still, the crowd doesn’t seem to understand this sign and instead, they want to seize him and make him king because of the free lunch program they are sure he will institute. They had come to this mountain searching for Jesus and even after this marvelous sign, they still don’t find what they are looking for.

And you are here this morning—why, I don’t know. But I can assume that it is because you too, are seeking Jesus. You are trying to find the one who offers the opportunity to live an everlasting and meaningful life. You are clamoring after the God who makes the impossible is possible. You are looking around this world where of despair and fear and scarcity and you know that there has got to be more—there must be abundance if you can just tap into the power of Jesus that can feed a multitude with just five loaves and two fish.

Well, if that’s the case, you’ve come to the right place. That’s what our life of faith is all about: seeking and finding the abundance of our God. Yet as humans it is difficult to accept such lavish love and care. In our New Testament lesson for today, we are offered a prayer. Paul writes:

“I pray that, according to the riches of his glory, he may grant that you may be strengthened in your inner being with power through his Spirit, and that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith, as you are being rooted and grounded in love. I pray that you may have the power to comprehend, with all the saints, what is the breadth and length and height and depth, and to know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge, so that you may be filled with all the fullness of God. Now to him who by the power at work within us is able to accomplish abundantly far more than all we can ask or imagine, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus to all generations, forever and ever. Amen.”

Yes, the God who feeds the multitude with one boy’s lunch is the God of abundance. That’s the sign Jesus wants for us to get. He is the bread of life. And he feeds us with the unfathomable love of God—the fullness of God. And because this power is in us through the Holy Spirit, there is nothing we can’t do. This Spirit can accomplish far more through us than seems possible. And we are called to live in that believe in the possible, to stake our lives on it.

The theologian Soren Kierkegaard said faith is like floating in a deep ocean. If you struggle and thrash about, you will eventually tire and sink. But if you relax and trust, you will float. Faith, you see is trusting in the bouyancy of God to keep you safe. It is allowing God to be your everything: the ground in which you live and move and have your being. You have to let go of your fears and trust in the abundance of God and how much it can be present in your everyday life. That’s the sign that Jesus was pointing to in this miraculous act.

To close, I share with you a famous quote by Marianne Williamson.

Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate.

Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light not our darkness that most frightens us.
We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented and fabulous?

Actually, who are you not to be?
You are a child of God.
Your playing small does not serve the world. There's nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you.

We were born to make manifest the glory of
God that is within us.

It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone.
And as we let our own light shine,
we unconsciously give other people
permission to do the same.

As we are liberated from our own fear,
Our presence automatically liberates others.



May the God of all possibility bless you with the peace of Christ which passes all understanding. Amen.

IT'S ALL "US"

A Sermon for the 7th Sunday after Pentecost
Pastor Laura Gentry

Ephesians 2:11-22

Grace and peace to you from God our Father and from Jesus Christ our Lord and Savior.

There was a young man who was an All-American football player in college and then went on to play professional football for a few years. After a brief career, he came back to his alma mater as an assistant coach. One of his main responsibilities was to go and recruit players the team. Before he made his first recruiting trip, he went in to visit with the head coach—the same coach for whom he had played when he was in college.

The head coach was a serious old guy with a raspy voice from all the years he’d yelled at players. He had held that position as head coach for many years, was widely known and highly respected all across the country. The new young coach said to him, “Coach, I’m about to head out on my first recruiting trip, but before I go I want to be sure that you and I on the same page. Tell me, Coach, what kind of player do you want me to recruit?”

The old coach leaned back in his chair. He looked the young coach straight in the eyes and said: “Son, I’ve been at this job a long time and over the years I have noticed that there are several different kinds of players. For example, there are some players who get knocked down and they stay down. That’s not the kind we want!” He said, “And then there are find some players who get knocked down and they get right back up only to get knocked down again and then they stay down. That’s not the kind we want!”

And then the old coach went on: “And then there are some players who get knocked down and they get knocked down and they get knocked down, and every time they get knocked down, they get right back up!”

At this point, the young coach got excited and he said, “Now, that’s the kind of player we want, isn’t it, Coach?”

“No!” said the old head coach. “We want the one doing all that knocking down!!”

Now in today’s epistle lesson, the Apostle Paul is talking about this kind of incessant knocking down, but he’s not talking about knocking down people—like in football—he’s talking about knocking down the walls that divide people from one another.

Paul, you see, was born into an “us” and “them” world. There were two, very distinct camps: the Jews—that is, the chosen people of God, to whom God had been revealed and had given all the promises of Hebrew Scriptures—and the Gentiles—that is, everybody else. In his worldview, the Jews were “us,” and the Gentiles, clearly, were “them.” Until Paul’s conversion to Christianity, he was so set on the wall between them that he persecuted everyone who wasn’t a Jew and even killed them. So the writer of today’s scripture understands how walls work.

Some things never change. Nineteen hundred years later, the English writer Rudyard Kipling said, “East is east, and west is west, and never the twain shall meet.” He wasn't just saying that to sound poetic, even though it does (especially the twain part). Kipling was reflecting the reality of the world in which he lived. He fully understood that there is something deep in human nature that makes us want to divide the world into us and them—that causes us to choose sides, to draw dividing lines, and to build up walls, walls we will defend with our very lives.
There are so many ways in which we do this! Our society has endless barriers and walls that divide us such as cultural background, nationality, race, socioeconomic class, gender, sexual orientation, political party, favorite sports team and so forth. We even divide ourselves up based on the kind of car we drive. We have barriers between Christians—perhaps the most of all. I can’t tell you how many people refer to different Christian denominations as different “religions.” We aren’t of different religions! We are all of the Christian religion—we share the same Lord, Jesus Christ. Even within the ELCA, we build walls that divide us as we struggle to find God’s truth on various theological and social issues that confront our church. In fact, the churchwide assembly is going to be next month: August Aug. 17-23. Because there are so many controversial issues on the table, the Bishop has invited the whole church into 50 days of prayer for wisdom, discernment and unity. Obviously, unity is a big challenge for our church. It's still a world of us versus them.

As humans, we are really good at building walls—both physical and philosophical ones. Some of them have names: the Iron Curtain, the Berlin Wall. We all remember the historical speech of President Reagan's when he challenged the Russian leader about the Berlin Wall. He emphatically said: “Mr. Gorbachev, tear down this wall!” I remember visiting that wall when I was a little girl and seeing the fences within fences surrounding the walls with gunmen sitting on towers. I remember hearing my relative recount—with tears streaming down his face—how he had escaped East Germany with bullets whizzing past him as he swam to safety but how he was, then, separated from his friends and family. I never thought that wall would come down in my lifetime. And yet it did! Shortly after I’d graduated from high school, it was dismantled and people all over the world grabbed pieces of it as souvenirs to take home—each stone a powerful symbol that walls CAN be torn down.

This is good news because walls are not God’s intention. Christ came to build bridges, not walls. In Paul’s letter to the Ephesians we read, “He has made both groups into one and has broken down the dividing wall, that is, the hostility between us.”

“Something there is that doesn't love a wall,” wrote the great American poet Robert Frost. We could add to that statement: someone there is who doesn't love a wall. That someone is Jesus Christ—the one who came to knock down the dividing walls of our world.

As Christians, then, it is our job to continue that work; to be like that football player who is doing all that knocking down. We are to knock down walls wherever we see them and to be very careful that we don’t contribute to building and maintaining them—which is all to easy to do. We need to examine our lives and our hearts to find those invisible but very real barriers that we place between ourselves and our fellow human beings—setting up the old us and them scenario again. Our fearful, sinful self is all too eager to do this.

“East is east and west is west, and never the twain shall meet,” just isn't okay. Paul explains that in Christ, we have been saved by grace and therefore, we have all been given peace that makes us one. He writes it this way: “There is no longer Jew or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male and female, for all of you are one in Christ Jesus.” (3:28) In a world that constantly encourages the us and them mentality, the Christian message is radical—it declares that there is no them. Them is a myth. There is only us—we are all in the same boat, all members of the same body with Christ as the head. It reminds me of a bumper sticker I have. It says: “God bless everybody. No exceptions.”

Paul goes on to say that we are to be “one new humanity in place of the two, thus making peace,” For Christ himself is our peace and it is he who makes us one. There is NO us and them. There is only us and Christ is Lord of us all.

But do we live like this is a reality? Think about times when you’ve seen others knocking down dividing walls. What a miraculous thing it is. How can you do this too? How can you build bridges instead of walls? How can you connect with people that you consider them instead of excluding these children of God? What can you personally do to promote Christian unity and peace in our world? These are questions which Paul urges us to ask of ourselves day after day, that we may be moved by the Spirit to positive action for the sake of the kingdom.

Let us pray: O God you have made all your people one and sent your Son to preach peace to those who are far off and to those who are near: Grant that people everywhere may seek after you and find you. Pour out your Spirit upon ALL your children; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.


Now may the peace of God which passes all understanding keep our hearts and our minds in Christ Jesus our Lord. Amen.

THE HIGH COST OF DISCIPLESHIP

A Sermon for the 6th Sunday after Pentecost

by Pastor Laura Gentry

Mark 6:14-29

There is a scene in the first Austin Powers film where Austin and his spying partner, Vanessa, witness the decapitation of one of the “bad guys” in Dr. Evil’s lair. Don’t worry, it’s not gruesome—this is a comedy film. Austin, who is known for his love of puns, can’t help but comment.

Austin Powers: Not the time to lose one's head.
Vanessa Kensington: No.
Austin Powers: That's not the way to get ahead in life.
Vanessa Kensington: No.
Austin Powers: It's a shame he wasn't more headstrong.
Vanessa Kensington: Hmm.
Austin Powers: He'll never be the head of a major corporation.
Vanessa Kensington: Okay, that'll do.
Austin Powers: Okay.

When I examined today’s Gospel reading about the horrible decapitation of the famous prophet, John the Baptist, I decided I’d have to start the sermon out with this set of puns because, how else can you cope with such a horrifying text? I mean, what is this story even doing in the gospel of Mark, let alone our lectionary? There are a lot of gruesome stories in the bible that didn’t make it into the set of lectionary readings like Uzzah who is struck dead just for reaching out his hand to steady the ark of the covenant when it wobbled on its way to Jerusalem (2 Samuel). Why did this story about John the Baptist’s awful death make it in the lectionary? And what are we supposed to gain from having examined it?

Well, to begin with, we should look at where the interlude comes chronologically in the Gospel story. It happens right after Jesus sends the disciples out to do their ministry. Remember? We talked about that last week. They didn’t take anything with them—no purse, no money, to extra clothes, not even a cell phone—and they were given power to heal and to cast out demons. It is during the time they are off doing this exciting ministry that we hear about John’s sad fate.

I think the point of juxtaposing these two stories is to highlight the high cost of discipleship. Jesus’ disciples are off slugging it out with the demons and illnesses and they’re out there on their own without even any snack bars or other provisions that might help prop them up in this difficult work. They’ve just been called as disciples and so they are not that experienced, yet they are sent to proclaim the good news. It’s certainly not an easy mission Jesus has sent them on. It’s costing them everything, as they’ve had to leave their old lives behind do to this.

Meanwhile, John the Baptist is about to loose his head for having had the courage and integrity to criticize Herod Antipas, the tetrarch of Galilee. He had stolen his brother’s wife, Herodias and married her himself. So his wife’s daughter, Salome, was at once his niece and his stepdaughter. John had told Herod that this marriage was a moral outrage. This wasn’t exactly music to his ears. Still, he was fascinated by John and he feared him, recognizing he was a righteous and holy man. Furthermore, he liked listening to John, even though his words were critical. So Herod put him in prison, rather than killing him as Herodias had wanted him to do.

Well, then things really come to a “head” at Herod’s birthday banquet. This was an extravagant event thrown my Herod himself. The entertainment, it seems, was the dance of the stepdaughter/niece, Salome. I’m with John on the being outraged here because it doesn’t sound appropriate for this daughter to be entertaining the party guests in this way. Herod is a bit too “into” his step-daughter’s dance. He is so “pleased,” it says, that he makes an exaggerated oath to give her whatever she wants (up to half his kingdom, which is the most a woman could inherit).

The girl goes to her mother for guidance on what to request. Herodias has had it in for John from the start and so without hesitation, she tells Salome to ask for the head of John the Baptist on a platter.

Now Herod’s in a tight spot. All of the guests heard him give his word that he would grant the girl her request. If he wants to be a man of his word, he will have to do it. It says he is deeply grieved about it but it’s rather difficult to have pity for him. He orders the dirty deed done and John’s head is brought into the banquet on a platter—still dripping with blood—and presents to Salome, who gives it to her evil mother.

Um...where’s the happy ending? I guess the old saying holds: No good deed goes unpunished. Here we have an incredible prophet in John. Even his birth was a extraordinary and miraculous and had been prophesied. While he was still in his mother’s womb, John leapt for joy upon hearing the greeting of Jesus’ mother. He was born to a family of priests to prepare the way for Jesus. He called people to repentance and baptized them in the Jordan River. He had no earthly possessions and ran around in nothing but some stinky camel hair and ate wild honey and grasshoppers, for crying out loud! The guy was committed. Here is a prime example of fabulous discipleship. He didn’t give God a portion of his life—he gave it all. And in the end, he’s gotta die for it? What’s the reward in that?

And he wasn’t the only one to die for his faith: the apostles did too. The only one who lived out his days was Saint John but he was exiled to the island of Patmos where he is said to have written the book of Revelation. All the others died as martyrs: killed for having the courage to proclaim the good news of Jesus Christ.

John’s death foreshadows the death of the one he has come to prepare the way for: Jesus Christ. Just as Herod reluctantly orders the death of John, Pontius Pilate will soon reluctantly order the death of Jesus. Yes, even the Son of God is given the death sentence for bringing the good news. So is it really good news?

Indeed it is, because God does not let death have the final say. Jesus is laid in the tomb but three days later, he is risen to new life and with it, he brings resurrection power to the whole world. He lives that death may die!

And so the tragedy of John’s violent death, as well as the tragedy of all those disciples dying in the line of duty is nullified. There is no sting in death—there is no victory in it at all. Jesus’ has taken their deaths and transformed them into resurrections.

Hopefully, none of us will ever have to face what John the Baptist or any of the apostles did. Nevertheless, we can expect problems in our life of faith. Don't be mistaken: the cost of discipleship is extremely high. We can lose friends, even jobs because of our religious convictions. We can experience hardship and prejudice and any manner of setbacks. Yet these things don’t matter compared to the glory that will be revealed to us. Jesus has given us his life so that we may have life and have it abundantly. And he has called us to a life of discipleship in which we give our very ALL for the sake of the kingdom. We cannot hold back even a part of ourselves—no, we must follow the example of the saints who have gone before and dive right into our mission. We can do it because the Spirit’s power is with us and nothing can ever separate us from the love of God. Amen.

LET GOD BE GOD

A Sermon for the 5th Sunday after Pentecost, Year B

by Pastor Laura Gentry

Mark 6:1-13

There was a kid who got kicked out of the neighborhood drug store by the time he was in high school. Needless to say, he’d caused the owner quite a bit of grief in his mischievous younger days. Twelve years later, while visiting home after his ordination into the ministry, his mother sent him to the same store. When he walked in the owner looked up and said, “I told you: OUT!”

It’s hard to be a prophet in your own hometown. That’s the same thing Jesus found out in today’s gospel reading. It’s hard to gain respect from those who know you. You know what the definition of an expert is, don’t you? It’s someone from at least 50 miles away.

Sometimes, I think we forget how difficult Jesus had it. In Mark 3:21, we see that Jesus’ own family had labeled him crazy and tried to restrain him.  A few verses later, his mother and brothers and sisters try again to remove him from his teaching ministry.  In last week’s story when he came to raise the girl from the dead he was laughed at.

And now in today’s gospel scene, he’s back in his hometown and goes to the temple to teach. The people who heard it are astounded. The Greek word used here implies a hint of incredulity. They can’t comprehend it! I can imagine all the muttering things like: Hey isn’t that Mary and Joe’s kid? The one that used to throw rocks at the house? Yeah, yeah and his brothers were all messed up. Now he thinks he’s a prophet? Some great teacher back here in Nazareth? And doing miracles! I hear he just raised a little girl from the dead. No way could Joe’s kid do that. He’s gotta be a fraud.

Yes, Jesus is flatly rejected by his peers—by the folks he grew up with. It amazes Jesus that they could be so impervious to the good news. This scene shows us how deeply God has entered into our world in the person of Jesus. He experiences all the same problems, peer pressures, disappointments and sufferings that we do. Yet he gives us a model of how to deal with the pain of being human. He shows us that depending upon God is the way to get through it.

Jesus is anchored in God’s love and even if he is not accepted, he will not lose heart. In fact, he realizes that trying to do more miracles here in his hometown is going to be a waste of time because they won’t understand that he’s not trying to be a show off with the miracles. He is trying to give them a glimpse of the Kingdom of God. Instead, these displays of power will become a stumbling block for them. So he does no great deeds of power here.

And then he calls his disciples and immediatelysends them out in pairs to proclaim the Gospel. The amazing thing is that he sends the out without anything: no money, no extra clothes, no bag. I like to have a different bag to match each of my outfits but Jesus’ disciples are sent out with no bag at all! He instructs them to depend upon God, not other things that would normally sustain them on such a journey. And he tells them something strange. He says: “If any place will not welcome you and they refuse to hear you, as you leave, shake off the dust that is on your feet as a testimony against them.”

Now I used to be troubled by that statement because it comes across as rather rude, even mean-spirited. Shaking your shoes at them? Why should Jesus tell them to do this? It comes from his own experience. He knows that not everyone will accept the good news and some will wholeheartedly reject it. There is danger that this rejection will discourage them from moving forward with their mission. Jesus knows that they have a vital task and they cannot allow nay-sayers to get them down. Negativity has a way of doing that, as you know. Instead, Jesus instructs them to be connected to God and depend upon God’s mercy entirely and so if someone has something bad to say, shake it off and move forward.

This is all well and good but it is easier said than done. How many times have you been set back by the negative comments of others, particularly your friends and loved ones? Being rejected by a stranger is no big deal compared to being rejected by people close to you. How do you deal with it? How do you not lose heart? Do you ever feel too weak to go on?

Paul talks about this in the Epistle lesson for today. He had been through all kinds of rejection and even had what he called a “thorn in the side.” We don’t know if this was literally a torn stuck in his side or a metaphor for some other medical or emotional problem. Whatever it was, it made life really difficult for him. And like Jesus, he had a hard time teaching in places where people knew him. They doubted his motives and authority.

Indeed, Paul felt weak. Yet he discovered a profound truth in this weakness: it is strength. It is strength because it keeps you humble. It keeps you from believing your greatness comes from your own doing. It enables you to cling more tightly to your Savior. God’s power is made perfect in weakness. Grace, he explained, is all sufficient for us no matter how many thorns we have in our flesh.

In their weakness, Jesus’ disciples truly experience the sufficiency of grace. Without a bag, they go out to do God’s work. They follow Jesus’ advice to walk away from rejection and to allow God’s power to fill their weakness. Truly God’s power became their power. This passage tells us that they cast out many demons, and anointed with oil many who were sick and cured them. Yes, they could cast out demons and heal the sick! God’s power was evidently in them.

And so this morning, we must ask ourselves: Is God’s power in me? Do I trust that if I humbly allow God to work through my weakness, I will have amazing power too?

The theologian Meister Eckhart wrote: “A pear seed grows into a pear tree, and a hazelnut seed grows into a hazelnut tree and a seed of God grows into God.  God does not ask anything else of you but to let yourself go and  let God be God. In you.”

This reminds me of a story. A man was hiking along the top of a great cliff and lost his footing and fell over the edge. Yet he managed to grab the edge of the rock with one hand. As he dangled there in great danger, he prayed: “God, God, are you there?”

And a voice said: “Yes, my son, It’s me: God. I’m here for you.”

Relieved, the man prayed: “God, you’ve got to help me out of this situation. Tell me what to do!”

God said: “You are going to have to trust me entirely. What I want you to do is let go of the rock.”

There was a long pause and then the man said: “Is there anyone else up there?”

That’s us. We say we want God’s help but when God shows up and asks us to let go and trust him, we get a little nervous.

It’s easy to get puffed up about our own accomplishments, but the goal of the Christian life is humbly to let yourself go and let God be God. In you. For with God, all things are possible. But if we stand in the way of the Spirit, we’ll be like the nay-sayers in Nazareth who could not believe and for whom no great works of power were performed. No, we are called to proclaim the good news even though the road is rough and we are weakened by the thorns in our flesh and not everyone, especially those in our hometown, will receive the liberating message we share. Nevertheless, we shake it off and press on. We must let God’s power be made perfect in our human weakness. Today, may we hear the call to truly let go and let God be God. In Us. Amen.