God called who??

The gospel of Luke's nativity story is such a familiar story - we all know the names, shape, and texture of these verses read every Christmas eve.  Yet the warm familiarity which is so synonymous with God's love shone in the baby Jesus sometimes dims the details of the story.  Within this there are some shocking layers - this sermon focuses on the fact that God called the shepherds, religious outcasts, considered unclean, to be the first visitors to God's son, the word made flesh.  To me this speaks a powerful gospel word of God's radical inclusivity, that God really means that Jesus is the good news for ALL people, underscored in the fact that the shepherds are the first to be told.  Click below to read the sermon.

Merry (almost) Christmas!

From the Faith and Politics Institute - Oren Arnold provides the following gift suggestions for the Christmas season:

"Christmas gift suggestions:

To your enemy, forgiveness.

To an opponent, tolerance.

To a friend, your heart.

To a customer, service.

To all, charity.

To every child, a good example.

To yourself, respect."

A Christmas video - this is from the children of the Tender Hands organization in Mumbai (Bombay), India.  When I was there last January, we visited with the couple that heads this Christian organization.  They showed us the film they have made, The Real Slumdogs, which shows the real life of street children in Mumbai, of which there are modestly estimated to be 250,000.  (For more on this, see http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=De5Iwxg5RN0 .)  Tender Hands rescues and rehabilitates these street children, and is also seeking to empower women who have been victimized or downtrodden.  We also met many of their children and shared a meal at their home where they house a few of their children.  It is a wonderful, Christ-centered mission organization which at its heart is just about love.  So it seems fitting to share with you this video their children made to tell the Christmas story:

Joseph's new sense of security

Joseph, Jesus' adopted/earthly father, actually gets very little attention in scripture.  The reading from Sunday, Matthew 1:18-25, is really the most we know about him.  Later in the gospels, when we read about the life and ministry of the adult Jesus, Joseph is not mentioned.  Yet Joseph's faithfulness and strength in the midst of this (though holy) disruption and chaotic period in his life ought to be heard.  For me, this spoke in terms of our own desires for security, and a life on track, within bounds, versus God's ultimate security and God securing our hearts.
Click below to read the sermon.

RAISINS? The joy that God's gifts can bring - and transform our lives.

Being a Christian means that we proclaim that we are transformed - for real!  God's Word, in Jesus Christ, in scripture, in the Holy Spirit that moves, in our everyday lives, transforms us!  Sometimes we forget this.  In the text from this past Sunday, the prophet Isaiah reminds us that proclaiming the truth of this Advent and every season is this proclamation "Be not afraid, here is your God!  He will come and save you!" 

Click to read the sermon below:

An Advent Prayer

From Henri Nouwen:

Lord Jesus,

Master of both the light and the darkness, send your Holy Spirit upon our preparations for Christmas.
We who have so much to do seek quiet spaces to hear your voice each day.
We who are anxious over many things look forward to your coming among us.
We who are blessed in so many ways long for the complete joy of your kingdom.
We whose hearts are heavy seek the joy of your presence.

We are your people, walking in darkness, yet seeking the light.

To you we say, "Come Lord Jesus!"

Amen.


Want to count down the rest of the season with an online Advent calendar?  See Yahoo's list of Advent calendars here - quite an array for all interests!

Waiting for Jesus, not John

The gospel reading for this second Sunday of Advent is where we meet John the Baptist out in the wilderness, baptizing for repentance in the Jordan River.  The scene around him is peaceful, iconic - crowds of followers coming to be baptized, and right after the text for today (Matthew 3:1-12), Jesus will come and be baptized by John in the Jordan as well. 

But here in the beginning of the third chapter of Mark, John has some strong words for the Pharisees and Saducees, and really all the followers.  Why are they there?  Is it out of fear?  Superstition?  Why are we in church?  Why are we Christians?  Because we have met and wait for Jesus, not John, the one who has power to forgive and claimed us as his own.  Click "read more" below to read the sermon.

World AIDS Day

Today, December 1, is World AIDS day.  Our church, the ELCA, is not silent on this but is working through congregations and individuals here in the US and all over the world to eliminate AIDS. 

From the ELCA website: AIDS has claimed the lives of more than 25 million people worldwide, and has left millions of children as orphans.


But amid the sobering realities of HIV and AIDS there is cause for great hope.

We are seeing real progress in efforts to:

• halt the spread of HIV through effective prevention, treatment, and care,
• eliminate the stigma and discrimination experienced by those who are HIV-positive, and
• reduce the conditions of poverty that contribute to the spread of HIV.

Your action makes a difference.

I encourage you to pause for a moment this day and breathe, pray, and conside how you can make a difference.  But it always begins with God, and in prayer.  Here is a litany from the ELCA site which I think is a prayer we could offer every day:

We gather in your name,

Let us walk in your light.

We center ourselves in you,

Let us walk in your light.

We wait for your coming again,

Let us walk in your light.

We give thanks for your promises,

Let us walk in your light.

We struggle with our sins,

Let us walk in your light.

We desire faithfulness in our relationships,

Let us walk in your light.

We long for compassion for the lost, forgotten, and forsaken,

Let us walk in your light.

We want compassion for the sick and the needy,

Let us walk in your light.

We mourn with the orphaned and widowed,

Let us walk in your light.

We remember our neighbors around the world,

Let us walk in your light.

We ask for your unconditional love for those we do not tolerate,

Let us walk in your light.

We cry out for peace in war-torn lands,

Let us walk in your light.

We yearn for wholeness for our bodies, hearts, and minds,

Let us walk in your light.

We grieve for those who have died,

Let us walk in your light.

We seek your healing from all disease,

Let us walk in your light.

We beg for wisdom for doctors, generosity from corporations, inspiration for scientists, and endurance for care-givers,

Let us walk in your light.

We place our lives in your hands; shape us with your purpose,

Let us walk in your light.

We put all our hope in you, O God. We trust in your mercy and find comfort in your grace. As we commemorate World AIDS Day we pray for your light to enter into the world and shine brighter than any darkness. Let it be a pathway illuminated by your love.

Let us walk in your light, Amen.

Feeling swept up in the season?

Thanksgiving - Advent - Christmas - New Year's, seems to rush upon us.  When you think about it being late November/early December, what comes to mind for you?

In Advent we as Christians are called to stand apart, to have a posture that's a little different, as we live in the faith of the coming light of Christ and the kingdom of God.

Click to read the sermon:

Child Nutrition Act - Lutheran Advocacy Ministries

Did you know that the Lutheran Advocacy Ministries offices are an arm of the ELCA which acts as the body of Christ by advocating for legislative action to support human rights as expressed through our social statements?
 See more on the Lutheran Advocacy Ministries of Pennsylvania website here - http://lamp.org/.

An urgent request is one regarding the Child Nutrition Act - watch this short, informational video - I did!


You can participate and advocate for children's nutrition by simply calling your Congressional representative at 1-877-698-8228. This toll free # will direct you to a script for your call and then you enter your zip code. It's very easy and important that the improvements to the Child Nutrition Act get passed this year!
I called - it is empowering to participate and only takes a couple minutes.

Advocacy is political, but it is not partisan. Did you know our church was involved in this way? Christ calls us as the body of Christ to work for change in this world, not to be separatist or unaware of the public policies around us which impact our neighbors, families, and friends.

Come closer

One of my favorite poets is Anis Mojgani.  This is a part of his poem, "Closer."  While this poem is not Christian (Mojgani himself is a Baha'i), it speaks to me in a prayerful way that describes how I think God relates to us through creating us and then redeeming us in Christ.  God is always beckoning us to "come closer."  So I offer these words to you today:

come closer.



come into this. come closer.


you are quite the beauty. if no one has ever told you that before know that now. you are quite the beauty. there is joy in how your mouth dances with your teeth. your mouth is a sign of how sacred your life truly is. come into this. true of heart come into this. you are true of heart. come closer. come closer. know that whatever God prays to He asked it to help Him make something of worth. He woke from His dreams scraped the soil form the spaces inside Himself made you and was happy. you make the Lord happy.


come into this.


come closer.

On baptism, and sermon from 11/14

Can you remember your baptism?  For those of us baptized as infants (as I was, at 6 months old), the idea of remembering our baptisms has to be a figurative one.  But it is a very important one.  In baptism we affirm our faith, renounce sin, and those around us in the Body of Christ, especially our families/sponsors/godparents promise to support and nurture us in our baptized lives.

Yesterday in worship we affirmed the baptism of Arianna Grace Morales, born October 12, 2010.  She is truly God's child and God's miracle baby.  Doctors doubted and never thought she would even make it to be born.  But the faith and love of her parents and God's strengthening presence with her have brought her into our congregation - quite the gift.  It was a wonderful moment to affirm and welcome her into the congregation.  She, and her story is a blessing, in which we testify to the love and faithfulness God has for each of us.

The appointed readings for this date, including the gospel reading, Luke 21:5-19, are quite jarring.  At first I thought about changing them, but in the end, they affirm the same thing that we believe about baptism.  That in the end, all the things in this life - buildings, stuff, even relationships, are temporary compared to Jesus Christ and the eternal life we are given in baptism.

Click below to read the sermon:

But for you who fear my name . . .

This coming Sunday's readings are . . . a little different.  They each speak about the end times, when Christ will return as victor and it will be the end of days.  The images can be a little scary - the gospel reading talks about wars, about signs of the end times coming.  During this time of year, at the end of our church year (as Advent is the beginning), and during Advent itself, we hear these readings about waiting for Jesus' return, about the need to be ready, and sometimes, harsh warnings for those who are not.

I honestly cannot say these are some of my favorite biblical texts, but they are important nonetheless.

The Old Testament reading for this Sunday is from Malachi, the last of the prophets in the Old Testament, and this chapter is actually the last one of the whole Hebrew Scriptures/Old Testament.

Here's the reading:

Malachi 4:1 See, the day is coming, burning like an oven, when all the arrogant and all evildoers will be stubble; the day that comes shall burn them up, says the LORD of hosts, so that it will leave them neither root nor branch. ² But for you who revere my name the sun of righteousness shall rise, with healing in its wings. You shall go out leaping like calves from the stall.

That last sentence is not included in the selection chosen for this Sunday, but I cannot hear these verses without it, because of this song, which also helps me to hear the joy in these images of the end times.  "But for you who fear my name, the son of righteousness will rise, with healing in his wings, and you shall go forth again, and skip about like calves, coming from their stalls at last!"  What a cool image - enjoy the song!

Blessed are you . . .

The gospel text for this past Sunday, appointed for All Saints' Sunday, was Luke's version of the Beatitudes.
All last week this had me thinking - what does it mean to be blessed?  What do we view as the difference between blessed and happy?  (Since the Greek word translated "blessed" here can mean both.) 

Click below to read the sermon (note, this is a  slightly different version, lacking the ending, than was preached in church)

Reformation Day Sermon

On October 31, 1517, Martin Luther nailed the 95 theses to the church door in Wittenberg, Germany, an act now marked as the beginning of the Protestant Reformation.  (Those doors are pictured here, which now are replaced by metal ones with the 95 theses cast in them.)  This would eventually form the Lutheran church, but also bring about the Reformed tradition and really all the other Protestant denominations.

Luther, a priest, professor, and teacher, did not intend to break away from the Roman Catholic Church. He simply wanted to open a discussion and see if God was leading the church to be more Spirit-led in certain practices and beliefs.  Though the 95 theses nailed on the door is now dramatized as such a dramatic event, it was not in Luther's day.  That was the place where other academic church thinkers and leaders posted thoughts and theses for debate and academic discussion.  But no one took Luther's 95 theses that way and responded in the normal, under the radar way, but it was soon printed and discussed widely.

As Lutherans, or even just as modern people, we are inheritors of this history.  On this 2010 Reformation Day, I was invited to preach on why I am a Lutheran - click below to read the sermon!

The Lutherans Song!

I have been waiting so long until now, the week of Reformation day to share this with you - the Lutherans Song!  It's catchy and lists a bunch of famous Lutherans - though I wonder if it could be updated/expanded.  My favorite line - "Martin Luther wasn't born a Lutheran and that might be a shock!"

God humbles us - creates us from the dust...

Below is the sermon from Sunday, 10/24.  The text is Luke's parable of the Pharisee and the tax-collector from Luke 18:9-14. 

 

 

Sermon from 10/17 - Prayer is like breathing

In the gospel reading for this past Sunday, Jesus tells the parable about the persistent widow, who overcomes the stubbornness of the unjust judge.  (Read the text in Luke 18:1-8 before reading the sermon.)
When do you notice yourself holding your breath?
What do you think prayer is like?  When do you feel a need to pray? 
to read the sermon:

Sermon from 10/10 - Jesus meets us on the way

I apologize for the delay in posting this sermon, but here it is.  The day's text was the familiar story from Luke 17 - Jesus healing ten lepers, and (only) one, the Samaritan foreigner, comes back to thank and praise Jesus.  Thoughts?  Feel free to comment, or email me, Vicar Brett, at clcvicar@gmail.com . 
to read the sermon:

Join our Facebook group!

Are you a Facebook user?  If so, join our Christ Lutheran group!  We can use this group together to post pictures of events, keep in touch with each other, share our church with other friends, and many other ways!

Yesterday, a few pictures from youth group this past Sunday were posted (including the one here). 

Click here to check it out: http://www.facebook.com/#!/group.php?gid=120495881336248&ref=ts

Ever heard a sermon on Habakkuk?

This past Sunday (10/3)'s sermon was on these verses from the prophet Habakkuk, which I think speak deeply to questions we all have. 

What are you waiting for?

Last week the reading in 1 Timothy spoke of contentment.  Being content is a great thing, and I hope everyone has even the briefest moments of contentment.  But are we always waiting for something? 

Last year in seminary I took an ethics class called Christian discipleship in a consumer society.  We often talked about in the class how the advertising industry and just our culture as a whole society work against any feelings of contentment.  It tells us, what you have is not ok - you need the newest, best, more features - what you have is not enough.  We let ourselves see what's missing instead of what we have, and feel discontent as a result.

This week's Old Testament reading comes from the prophet Habakkuk, and I am leaning toward preaching it, over the Luke reading.  This section from Habakkuk keeps pulling me in because I think it's so relatable:

Habakkuk 1:1-4 The oracle that the prophet Habakkuk saw. ² O LORD, how long shall I cry for help, and you will not listen? Or cry to you "Violence!" and you will not save? ³ Why do you make me see wrongdoing and look at trouble? Destruction and violence are before me; strife and contention arise. ⁴ So the law becomes slack and justice never prevails. The wicked surround the righteous-- therefore judgment comes forth perverted.

 We are so used to this feeling of discontent, though this reading strikes at much deeper levels.  The lament to God, "how long?" is something that strikes a deep chord.  We may all want to finish that question a little differently (God, how long until . . . ) but we all feel it.  So what are you waiting for?  Are you comfortable waiting?  Is the Christian life a life of waiting or a life lived in the present?

Jesus tells us a story. . .

This sermon for Sunday, 9/26, found me wrestling with the text again. Another dramatic story of reversal from Luke's gospel:

Luke 16:19-31 19"There was a rich man who was dressed in purple and fine linen and who feasted sumptuously every day. 20 And at his gate lay a poor man named Lazarus, covered with sores, 21 who longed to satisfy his hunger with what fell from the rich man's table; even the dogs would come and lick his sores. 22 The poor man died and was carried away by the angels to be with Abraham. The rich man also died and was buried. 23 In Hades, where he was being tormented, he looked up and saw Abraham far away with Lazarus by his side. 24 He called out, 'Father Abraham, have mercy on me, and send Lazarus to dip the tip of his finger in water and cool my tongue; for I am in agony in these flames.' 25 But Abraham said, 'Child, remember that during your lifetime you received your good things, and Lazarus in like manner evil things; but now he is comforted here, and you are in agony. 26 Besides all this, between you and us a great chasm has been fixed, so that those who might want to pass from here to you cannot do so, and no one can cross from there to us.' 27 He said, 'Then, father, I beg you to send him to my father's house-- 28 for I have five brothers-- that he may warn them, so that they will not also come into this place of torment.' 29 Abraham replied, 'They have Moses and the prophets; they should listen to them.' 30 He said, 'No, father Abraham; but if someone goes to them from the dead, they will repent.' 31 He said to him, 'If they do not listen to Moses and the prophets, neither will they be convinced even if someone rises from the dead.'"

What do you think? What images stick out for you? Is this parable about money, do you think, or something else? Click below to read the sermon . . .

the parable of the Merciful Master

Vicar Brett Wilson – Pentecost +17 – Luke 16:1-13 – 9/19/10

Do you ever watch a whole news program and feel like you've been put through the ringer, beat up by the sad, traumatic, political, or whatever. At the end of a long week have you ever gotten a phone call and hoped it would bring comfort but it brought unsettling news? News, whether it be on the television or far too near, can be scary.

This gospel story, the parable of the shrewd manager, is unsettling. It's scary. When I listen to it, it reminds me of listening to baffling tales on the news of tragedy and unfairness. We read of an account manager who is squandering or somehow stealing or being wasteful with money. This isn't too foreign, right? It's the gospel according to Bernie Medoff, Fannie May . . . The manager gets fired, ok. He realizes that he's not one for manual labor or begging, so, before he turns in the books and before the renters know of his firing, he goes to them and cuts their bills, all to save his own neck and buy favors for himself he can cash in on after he leaves. Today we have a term for this – a golden parachute – which all too often is in our news as CEOs give themselves bonuses or create huge severance packages for themselves to cushion the blow, even as their companies go bankrupt and workers are laid off.

When the master returns, we expect him to be furious – the manager was already fired and had no authorization to do any of this. But on the contrary, the master praises the manager for being shrewd, along with a cryptic statement about the children of this age and the children of light. The kicker for me, though is that Jesus closes the parable with this - “And I tell you, make friends for yourselves by means of dishonest wealth so that when it is gone, they may welcome you into the eternal homes.” Our Jesus – buy yourself friends, with dirty money . . .

It is a shocking, unsettling passage. I mean, what is Jesus saying here? If you feel confused, you're not alone. Commentators say this is the hardest of Jesus' parables and perhaps of all the gospel scripture we read in church. This text, though cryptic, rings close to home with financial scandals, economic worries, and confusion in our day. It seems dangerously unfair and conflicting. This text reminds me that living in faith is not always easy or cozy.

But stay with me – because being a people of faith sometimes means wrestling with texts that are hard. And I think that these are where we can really encounter Christ because Christianity isn't about a sugar-coated, easy-to-swallow answers for our life. The bible does give us laws, commandments, and instructions as a good gift from God – not to limit us but to free us to live a full life less tormented by sin. But this passage reminds me that the bible isn't an instruction manual, but an invitation to relationship, a relationship with God that will last your whole life and stretch to cover you in every way, and will also challenge you and push you deeper, to ask hard questions. So if Jesus' parables and our bible as a whole is about relationship, I think the most faithful thing I can offer you is a reflection on how this parable reflects our relationship with God.
So let's take a look at the relationships in this parable. The master, the boss, is one of judgment and mercy. Ok, this is our God – judgment and mercy. And this manager, he is smart and shrewd, but far from perfect, this sounds like humans. Though if we look at the structure of this parable, it brings to mind a much more familiar and comforting one – the parable of the prodigal son. Actually, the parable of the prodigal comes immediately before this passage, and in Luke's gospel Jesus often explains a point with a pair of stories.

So while these seem like very different stories at the outset, they have some key things in common that I think opens up this story about the shrewd manager in a new way. The so-called prodigal son who leaves home to spend his inheritance is parallel to the manager here. Both betray the trust of the father/master/God figure. Both of them are described with the same verb – that they “squander.” When both the son and manager are confronted with their crimes, they have nothing to say for themselves. No excuses are made. The son throws himself on the mercy of his father, and the manager throws himself on the mercy of the master. Kenneth Bailey writes “Both the steward and the prodigal experience extraordinary mercy from their superiors. The manager is not jailed for changing the bills; the prodigal is not punished for having wasted the family's assets.”

The dominant relationship here is that of the merciful master to the shrewd steward. of God to humanity, and God is defined by this extraordinary mercy. At the beginning of the parable the steward has committed a crime, and when the master discovers it, he doesn't jail, sue, fine, beat, or even reprimand the manager. This is something that maybe we skip over, but is the first clue to the relationship of mercy. Bailey writes, “[our] only option is to entrust everything to the unfailing mercy of the generous master, who, we can be confident, will accept to pay the price for our salvation. This clever rascal was wise enough to place his total trust in the quality of mercy experienced at the beginning of the story. That trust was vindicated. Disciples need the same type of wisdom.”

Every service we begin with words of confession, this is where we stand – trusting in God's
unfailing mercy, because Jesus paid the price for our salvation. We make no excuses for ourselves in the confession, but fall into the arms of the one whose mercy we already know, who is always by us, even when we sin, even when we feel confused or scared, God is there and so is God's full mercy. In both the parables of the prodigal son and the unjust manager this relationship between the father/master and the son/manager stays in tact. The son is welcomed back home and God's mercy, not the son's sin, is the real focus. This is why many, myself included, prefer to call that story the parable of the forgiving father. This next parable strikes us as confusing, scary, but in the end also focuses on God's mercy, and so what about we think about it not as the “unjust steward” but the “merciful master.”

God is with you each moment of our day, waiting right at your side to catch you when you fall, to forgive you when we sin, without limit and full of mercy. This parable is scandalous because we so want the manager to be punished, but it wakes us up to the radical nature of God's forgiveness – it is not about logic, but about love.

God's love overflows for you today, in this place. But God's mercy also overflows for you in the world – out there – on Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, when you sin, when you have no excuse for yourself, there is God ready to forgive and welcome you home. To live as a disciple is to have no excuse for yourself but live boldly in God's mercy and forgiveness. To cling to the cross as a sign that God's mercy is without limits.

Because we are forgiven and shown God's mercy, we are opened to share it with each other. Something I keep coming back to is the mercy shown after the 2007 school shooting in the Amish community of Nickel Mines. While the crime seemed so egregious, so tragic, this did not stop the forgiveness of the Amish community. Rita Rhoads, a member of that community, spoke to ABC news about forgiving the gunman- "If you have Jesus in your heart and he has forgiven you … [how] can you not forgive other people?" Rhoads said. Freed by God who forgives us, and Christ who paid the price for us, we are called to be shrewd to find the good news of God's mercy around us in our world.

The merciful master has forgiven you. In the name of God, who is father, son, and holy spirit, Amen.

Oft-quoted but deeply true thought of the day from my email inbox:

I believe in Christianity as I believe that the sun has risen: not only because I see it, but because by it, I see everything else.
- C.S. Lewis

Vicar Brett Wilson – 16th Sunday after Pentecost - 9/12/10
Luke 15:1-10

In today's gospel lesson, Jesus says twice, through the voice of the woman and the shepherd in the parables, “Rejoice with me!” Rejoice! It's rally day, we all have reasons to count our blessings, let's have a party! Think about all the reasons we throw parties. Kids especially love a good party. I am the oldest child in my family, I have one brother who is two and a half years younger than me, and it's fair to say that we had a pretty competitive sense of sibling rivalry when we were growing up. When my brother's birthday rolled around, especially when I was about 10 or younger, as the days got closer and the plans for the birthday party were made, I would feel my jealousy creeping in. It wasn't that my parents made that big of a fuss about birthdays but I would be jealous of the focus on him instead of me. I would think – he hasn't been that good in school lately . . . he doesn't deserve a video game! And even though I got to enjoy the birthday meal, the birthday cake and games at the party, I still sometimes resented it.

Maybe it's that part of me, the little girl on her brother's birthday, that so easily can relate to the feelings of the Pharisees and scribes in this morning's gospel. There they are, the in crowd. The Pharisees always have a seat with Jesus and an invitation to the party (even if they wrote it themselves). And yet, once again when Jesus gathers the outcast, traitors, and forgotten of society and sits with them for a meal and conversation, the in-crowd complains – how can he welcome sinners and eat with them? Jesus' parable here, like most other places, is a direct answer and a very sharp move. The Pharisees are most definitely the ninety-nine sheep or the nine coins in the parable. And while we are so used to hearing this story and picturing ourselves as the one lost – and we are – what if you were one of the 99? What do you mean you're leaving us here unprotected in the wilderness to go look for that one? They got lost! It's their own fault. It seems logical enough an argument and yet totally overlooks the grace and love of the shepherd, of the woman, of our God.

Yet this is an argument we use all too often to exclude others from our own tables. Just like a childhood birthday party, we get jealous when the focus is on others or people are invited to our tables whom we judge as unworthy to eat with. We think – they got lost, it's their own fault. . . Our society, but really our humanity, has us label people as the weak link without even thinking twice about it, and then resent why they may be invited to the same party as us – to the same benefits, to the same quality of life and respect. We label people as the weak link, as undeserving to be at the party, with the labels undocumented immigrant, welfare cheater, lazy disabled person, lazy rich person, mooch. We expect people to pull themselves up by their bootstraps. We expect them to deserve it – just like the Pharisees expect the so-called, outcasts, sinners, to work and deserve Jesus' attention – just like I wanted my brother to not get birthday presents if he had just pulled my hair or broken my barbie the day before. It doesn't seem fair. It doesn't seem fair, it doesn't make sense that the shepherd would go out and look for the one, or the woman would sweep the house to find one coin and then probably spend much more than one coin to throw a party to celebrate finding it.

I just had a birthday a couple weeks ago, and I felt really loved. I received so many cards and warm wishes. I spent a wonderful, relaxing day. Yet every year on my birthday I think about – I didn't do anything to deserve this! I just . . . am! I always make sure to thank my mom and dad, and God on my birthdays. They did all the work. And with my memories of my childhood birthday parties, I am inspired by the fullness of grace in this gospel story. You cannot work to earn a birthday just like the parties the shepherd and the woman throw were not earned. It's not about deserving or mastering any skills. It isn't about fairness, or about it all making sense. It's about God's extravagant love for you. You are the coin, you are the sheep, and a coin and a sheep cannot do anything to be found. It cannot yell “hey, I'm over here!” operate a homing beacon or GPS, or have any way of finding its seeker. In the same way, I am lost, I am sinful, and I have absolutely no power to repent – all I can do is say - “I'm lost!” This is all we do in confession – admit we're lost - God does the rest, finding us and forgiving us, right where we are. Jesus finds you. God has no limits to how far or how long, but God seeks you out. It doesn't make sense, it's not fair, because it's not about that – it's about God's extravagant love, love without limits, for each individual person, right down to the very last one.

Sometimes we may catch ourselves feeling like the 99, being the Pharisees who label others as undeserving and complain that they are invited to the party. But Jesus interrupts us and says – what are you complaining about – you're already at the party! So rejoice with me! Rejoice with Christ each time the body of Christ grows. Rejoice that Christ's love does not fit within our labels and that Jesus goes to every length to find each individual, especially those we forget or cast aside. Rejoice that we get to be at the birthday party each time a child of God is baptized here, that we get to have our seat at the (communion) table and join in every birthday meal. You're already at the party! Rejoice!

Rejoice that we can tell others about how wonderful it is to be at this celebration. Rejoice that because Christ found us, and claimed us in our baptism, we can reflect God's love in inviting others to the table. This is evangelism, and it is a great gift to us – not a burden, but an urge to tell, to invite, just as Christ found us, invited us. We are not the hosts of this party, but we rejoice that God is, and we get to sit at the table with Christ, sins and all. This invitation is just, as D. T. Niles put it, one beggar telling another beggar where to find bread. We cannot find Christ ourselves or even draw someone else a map or a guide on how to do it, but we can witness to that Jesus will sweep every corner of the world looking for you – he will shine on you the light of the gospel, and God will welcome you home.

feeling lost?

Part of this coming Sunday's gospel reading, from Luke 15:

3 So Jesus told them this parable: 4 Which one of you, having a hundred sheep
and losing one of them, does not leave the ninety-nine in the wilderness and go
after the one that is lost until he finds it? 5 When he has found it, he lays it
on his shoulders and rejoices. 6And when he comes home, he calls together his
friends and neighbors, saying to them, 'Rejoice with me, for I have found my
sheep that was lost.' 7 Just so, I tell you, there will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who need no repentance.

I think a lot of times we tend to see ourselves as the one hundreth sheep, the one that is found. And we should rejoice in this for so many reasons, one of which that really strikes me is that God finds us - we don't do anything to be found - God/Jesus/the shepherd does the finding!

BUT have you ever tried on for size what it might feel like to be one of the 99? What do you mean you're leaving allllllllll of us to go looking for that one sheep?

How deeply this speaks to God's concern for each individual.

It has been a busy week so far - and a joyous one in many ways. After Monday, Labor Day, and worship on Sunday I've been trying to count my blessings with the work I am blessed with, and remember in prayer the great many who are without work. But as the days go all too quickly with stressful moments, I am given by this reading just a little taste of God's peace and love for us each day, each moment.

God's peace be with you.

- Vicar Brett

Sermon 9/5 - Bearing your cross

Vicar Brett Wilson - 15th Sunday after Pentecost – 9/5/10 – Luke 14:25-33

The other day I was on 222 and I was stuck in traffic. Two miles of standstill traffic, inching along for about 30 minutes until we finally passed the accident that caused it. Just a few minutes into sitting still in the hot car, my patience started to wane. I looked over to my left and saw in the car next to me two women in the front seats, probably the mother and grandmother, of the three rambunctious kids in the backseat. I thought, my, that's some patience, I wonder if they ever get really frustrated.
And not that any of you would ever say anything like this, but maybe you parents or kids can picture this setting, in a car. Parents driving in the front seat, kids in the backseat, and they are just plucking the parents' last nerve. And the parent reaches the breaking point, whips around, and says something like - “If any of you say one more word, I'm going to turn this car right around and we're not going on vacation this summer!” Teachers, parents, maybe everyone has made these kind of ultimatums with harsh words. I know I have, and they weren't my proudest moments. Saying these things, it's not so much about action as about shock.
Jesus' words we read today are shocking. If you're not shocked, you're not awake. It's harsh. Just like the parent in the car, Jesus has crowds of followers behind him, and maybe just like the parent driving, just got really fed up. Maybe Jesus felt that they didn't understand all that he had been telling them. Perhaps they are only focusing on the blessings and is forgetting that Jesus has said (back in chapter 9) he will undergo great suffering, be killed, and on the third day rise. Jesus has already told them at least once, that they must too take up their cross daily. So now, maybe they needed reminding and Jesus spins around and shocks the disciples, and us, with these words:
“Whoever comes to me and does not hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, yes, and even life itself, cannot be my disciple. 27Whoever does not carry the cross and follow me cannot be my disciple. 28For which of you, intending to build a tower, does not first sit down and estimate the cost, to see whether he has enough to complete it? . . . So therefore, none of you can become my disciple if you do not give up all your possessions.”
Can you imagine the looks on the followers' faces? How do you feel when you hear these verses? Jesus gives his followers, us included, a wake-up call. This is when the disciples realize that following this man, this God, isn't all rainbows and sunshine – there are hard words here. First, let's set something straight – Jesus is not asking us to hate anyone. This, as well as the comment on selling possessions, is part of a much larger discussion Jesus is having with them about priorities and about how discipleship shapes how we live.
So then what is Jesus doing here? Jesus is shocking us out of our self-centeredness. Jesus is waking you up to say – these words, this gospel, this cross that I am going to – it's not just a story – it changes who you are. Jesus changes your life whole life by this relationship with him.
Jesus gives us instructions for the Christian life as a gift, for a full life, but God is not saving you because of your actions. Only God's mercy saves us. Jesus' harsh words mercifully snap us out of our selfishness and make us consider our priorities. New parents talk about how everything changes – how the child becomes the center of your life, no longer yourself. And Jesus wakes us up with these harsh words that it's not all about you, that you cannot do it on your own. It's not all about you, but God is all about you. God is after all, the parent here. God is also all about your neighbor and each person around you. The parent who sent the son to go to his cross so that bearing our cross means that we live lives through the lens of faith.
Bearing your cross doesn't necessarily mean suffering or being called to something specific like religious work or some life set apart. That was Jesus' cross, and not one that we could ever carry as sinful people. After all, in the Greek text and every other translation I could find, it says carry his own cross. You are not called to be Jesus but to carry out your own role and hence reflect Jesus' love. To walk bearing your cross as Christ calls you to, yes, that life has its costs. But ultimately Jesus died for you so that even while discipleship calls us to a costly life, Jesus has already paid all the costs, on the cross. As Lutherans we find great comfort in the cross – because it is the greatest symbol of God's love and mercy for us. We find comfort in that bearing our cross is found in our everyday lives – wherever we reflect God's love or see faith and the Holy Spirit shaping ourselves and those around us. Loving your neighbor. That is bearing your cross. This is God's work in you daily, in whatever your role or job may be in life.
When you as Christ Lutheran give of what you have for the people in Haiti to have basic needs met and schools rebuilt, that is bearing your cross. The cross is an unlikely symbol of God's mercy, but it means that we find God acting in unexpected places. In that traffic the other day on 222, amidst everyone's collective frustration, two cars in front of me a man got out of the passenger side of the SUV, and walked around to the back of the car. I thought – come on – what is he doing – and then he got behind the SUV and started to push. I watched the scene for not more than a couple seconds, before three other men from nearby cars jumped out and helped the man push. Right there on the highway, there were people bearing their cross, showing love to their neighbor.
Whether you work in construction, education, at home, in food service, or if you're out of work, wherever you are, there you bear your cross. No one job or role in the body of Christ is better than another or more capable of bearing your cross. The arena for Christian service is our everyday, common life. Daily life is the Christian life. Martin Luther writes about a man doing the diaper changing as a part of Christian service, that a man shoveling manure in a barn for his job is bearing his cross, as is a woman fixing a girl's hair in pigtails. The neighbor you are to love begins in your family, then your jobs, then society. Jesus walks with you in all these things. This is your cross – and by showing Christ's love in the everyday of your work, you lift high the cross of Christ, the love of Christ proclaim. Amen.

Why Lutheran?

Presiding bishop of the ELCA, Rev. Mark Hanson answers the question - Why Lutheran? - at a question and answer session. A great answer - check it out!




And then ask yourself - why am I a Lutheran? What does it mean to me to be Lutheran?

"Christian prayer is always a response to a presence already felt. The awareness of a desire to pray again is already prayer. As the desert fathers so often said, "If you want to pray, you are already praying."

- Edward J. Farrell from Gathering the Fragments

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This picture is one I took when I visited India last January. Here is a man praying at a little outside sanctuary to Mary, in the shadow of the huge cathedral of St. Joseph and St. Philomena, in Mysore, India. It was a great blessing to experience prayer on the other side of the world, with people of many faith traditions.

life or death, prosperity or adversity

This week's reading from Deuteronomy has some challenging words -

(Moses said,) "I have set before you life and death, blessings and curses. Choose life so that you and your descendants may live, 20loving the LORD your God, obeying him, and holding fast to him; for that means life to you and length of days, so that you may live in the land that the LORD swore to give to your ancestors, to Abraham, to Isaac, and to Jacob." (Deuteronomy 30:19b-20)

My gut reaction is that as a Lutheran, these words are very challenging. Lutheran theology runs directly in the face of any kind of decision theology. So verses like this that command us to choose something in order to live or incur God's blessing. It's about what God does, not what we do, after all, and anything we might do that is "good" is just a response to God's great mercy and blessing of us, not contingent or required for it. Our salvation, our eternal life, is not up to us, it's only by God's great grace and mercy through Jesus Christ that we are saved. That is the most clear and wonderful thing about Lutheran theology! God is in charge.

My other gut reactions are - duh, choose life - who would choose death? But what kind of God is a God who would even offer this choice? I'm not sure it sounds like the God of the trinity, of Lutheran theology as I experience. Also, does our sinful nature even allow us to make the right choices? Isn't Moses a little frustrated with the people in this passage, by this point, as they keep wandering in their hearts from God?

What bible verses do you find most challenging or unsettling?

BUT I think that all of this week's readings - the gospel reading is about bearing our crosses - remind us that even though salvation is completely God's doing, and not in any way a choice or work of ours to achieve, God does care about what we do day to day, and the choices we make. Perhaps as Lutherans (or just Lutheran preachers) this is something that we are hesitant to talk about lest we make it sound like something you have to do. It's not. but there is such beauty in that God gives us rules, structures, and commandments that are given not to be strict for the sake of strictness but so that we might live more fully.

It makes me think of advice that parents or caregivers give and as a kid you totally reject or fight against. I know one small example of this was that when I was little I never wanted to wear my winter coat when I was going outside. Then when I was in middle/high school it was cool not to. But as I am older I realize that those rules were not given by my mom to be harsh or just constrain me, but that my life might be fuller and more comfortable. God gives us commandments and choices so that we might live more fully. Studying the path God has given us to walk as Christians is a blessed thing. God cares about our everyday lives. God cares about whether you have a church home on Sunday morning and if you are baptized so God can claim you as God's child, but God also cares for your everyday errands - how you think about people you meet at the post office, or how you consider the daily grind of your job. God is there with you each day, and this, as all things, is a great blessing.

Christ calls you to the table

Vicar Brett Wilson - 14th Sunday after Pentecost – 8/29/10 – Luke 14:1, 7-14 (Preached at Emmanuel Lutheran)

Every Thursday night at Christ Lutheran a group serves the community meal. When I came downstairs this past Thursday for the meal, the group from Redeemer Lutheran, who was serving, had already opened the doors, about 15 minutes early. The dining room was almost full, and people were flooding in the door. Before I knew it, there was not a seat to be had. Gradually over the last month the numbers coming to the community meal have been growing. This is both a blessing that it can be a help to so many people, but it is also a concerning sign of the times. This past Thursday we had a record number for the meal. About 210 people came for dinner, for dinner in our hall which holds about 120.
Before long, I was talking to people as they waited in line for a seat at the table. I know you all here at Emmanuel take a turn serving the Monday meal, and maybe you can picture this. There was such a crowd, over and above our packed dining room, that the line wrapped outside and around the building. In line waiting for a seat were families, kids, young men and women, and older folks too. I was talking to these two men who were waiting in line, and one said to me, “I know why everyone's here, it's the end of the month. I know I don't get paid for two more weeks and I just don't have anything left. These meals really help me out.” The man standing next to him said, “yeah, the meals help me out – I'm not getting paid either.” The first man responded, “If it wasn't for this meal – (he shook his head) – I don't have anything in my fridge except mayonnaise and water.” The man standing next to him seemed startled and a little humbled by this and responded, “well, I've got stuff in my fridge, I could go eat that, these meals just really help. Sorry, man.”
We never do know where we sit in relation to each other, do we? I know we look at each other and make certain assumptions, but you can never really judge where you sit in relation to someone else. Today's gospel reading challenges our idea of choosing where we sit at the ranked table. This may not seem like a very deep issue to us, but in the ancient world, this was a very deeply inscribed social practice, and everyone knew the hierarchy of table seating at a dinner or a wedding feast, where this parable is set. When we sit down to dinner with friends we may not rank ourselves in this proscribed way, but we do rank ourselves and each other in so many other ways. And also, it often does matter where we sit, and it starts as young as the elementary school lunchrooms and carries into every other part of life. Competition, and the practice of measuring ourselves against others is just a part of who we are as humans. As competitive creatures we can relate to rating ourselves at the wedding banquet in the story, taking a chair at the table based on where we think we sit in relation to the other guests.
Where do I sit, after all? Where do you feel that you sit? Here in America, we sit pretty high up at the table. America is 6% of the world's population, and we consume 40% of the world's resources. Only 8% of the people in the world drive cars. A billion people in the world live on less than 1$ per day. When I consider this scale, I realize that I don't take the lowest seat at the table, really ever. Left to our own, even in trying to be humble, pride can win out and we place ourselves higher on the table status, only to fall when we are confronted with reality.
God confronts us with this reality in this parable. I can never properly evaluate where I sit. When God shows me where I truly do sit at the table, I am humbled. God does the humbling, and that's ok – I know I need it sometimes. I realize how blessed I am, but also how far I fall short from sharing my blessings. I also realize that I am just a guest at this dinner party, and I am not in charge.
Reading this lesson we must remember that it is a parable, and that God is the host of this banquet. God shows you to your place at the table. Whereas we may see this as a matter of status, that is our concern and not God's. “We as humans are naturally insecure. We deal with that insecurity illegitimately and illogically by comparing ourselves to others.”
God doesn't let it rest with us assigning some false rank to ourselves and others. God is active and present in this equation. Even while we are constantly comparing and ranking ourselves, God tears this down and breaks through to you by conveying your worth and dignity as a gift. God is the host at this wedding feast, this celebration here today and every day.
God is the host of the banquet, and that means that God invites you. It's not our hands that pick the guest list or make the table assignments – God is in charge here as host. If God is the host, who does he invite who cannot repay him? Me. You. The ones who could never repay God for what God has done. God who came down in Christ, the one most exalted who humbled himself all the way to death, does so that we, the ones who are lowest, who could never repay, may be exalted. It is out of God's sheer grace that we are invited, as we could never repay God for this.
God invites you to the banquet. For the gospel of Luke the banquet is often a symbol of the kingdom of God. God invites you to the kingdom, just as God invites you to this communion table. At this table where God gives of God's very self, showing a glimpse of the kingdom where there is not rank but God just gives. Everyone receives the same bread and wine, God's very self. God levels the playing field, by reversing the roles of the exalted and humble, because it doesn't matter, what is in your fridge or how much you have in the bank. God calls us each the same and gives of himself, of his son. God gives us our worth, calls us to our seat just as a parent calls their children to dinner. This is what is meant in “this is the feast of victory of our God.” God calls us to the table, invites all, throws off our system of rank and gives each child the same. From this table, from this glimpse of the kingdom we are changed. As God's forgiven people we can learn how to forgive others, see that they're just the same as us, and offer them a place at God's table.
The Holy Spirit moves among us shows us that where people are fed, where people are welcomed with no strings attached, there is a glimpse of the kingdom. At the community meals, in the work of this church and the people of Lancaster, there is God working. When you invite someone to this table, there is God's grace. When you show hospitality to strangers, remember those in prison, pray for the hungry, give thanks for what you have, realize where you sit, there Christ is with you. When you do things not to be repaid or get something in return, then you are Christ to others, and you share Christ and open up to the Holy Spirit.
Like a proud parent, God calls you to the table, invites all the children, and gives you and each one a seat and an equal portion. Like a proud son or daughter, you and I go from this table and because of the Holy Spirit, like a child bursting with pride, cannot help but tell others about what a good meal we had here, cannot help but to share what we have, and cannot help but invite others home for dinner. Amen.

This is where we sit . . .

When considering status and where we sit at the table in reading this week's gospel lesson, consider this video. In the humbling and challenging idea of throwing a party to invite the least in our society, who could never repay us, consider where we sit.
When we read this lesson, who do we assume that we are? Most of us would not consider ourselves as the rich hosts. But consider where you sit on a global scale. Watch this little clip from Rob Bell - and consider what it means to bless and be blessed . . .

Where do you sit?

The gospel reading for this Sunday is from Luke (have you noticed they all have been lately? That's because we're in lectionary year C). Anyway, the reading, Luke 14:1,7-14, is when Jesus seems to be giving some rules for dinner parties. Don't sit at the place of honor, but sit lower, be humble, that it's better that you humble yourself so that the host of the party can say to you, move up higher, and you'll be honored.
This is about status? Where do you feel that you sit? How does it feel where you sit at the table? Are there places in your life (at work, with your family, friends) where maybe there isn't an explicit seat at the table but there's a definite status/pecking order? How does this feel?
Jesus tells us in this passage that when we have a dinner party, not to invite our friends or others who could invite us in return. The goal is not to be repaid, but to give - Jesus tells the disciples to invite the poor, the blind, the sick, those who could never repay you, and you will be blessed in that you cannot be repaid, and "you will be repaid at the resurrection of the righteous."
Hmmm . . . I am really grappling with this last part. If Christ calls us to a life of giving without expect of repayment, that it's not about a "one for you, one for me" kind of math equation, then why is it that in the end Jesus dangles the carrot of our own repayment in the resurrection? This is hard for me as a Lutheran - we do not believe that our works are repaid to us in God's grace, but that God gives us grace and mercy and everything we have as pure gift, not as repayment for what we do. We can do nothing but sin without God. Anything good we can do is in Christ, and it's in response to God's grace.
Also, Jesus' words here seem very clear, very tangible, not symbolic or mysterious - so why does he call it a parable? Does that imply another layer of meaning here?

Sermon 8/22 - what ties you up, and how the sabbath unties us

Vicar Brett Wilson – Pentecost 13, Proper 16 – Luke 13:10-17 (read the scripture text first!)

Last February it was the first day of classes, and I, the one who my friends make fun of for how I am always a minimum of fifteen minutes early, was ready for class to start. So when the clock on the wall struck the hour and about half the class, but also the professor were absent, I started to get irritated. Five minutes go by, a few more students trickle in, and then about twelve past the hour our professor, Dr. Hoffmeyer, strolled in. He apologized briefly for being late. I wasn't mad at him, but I admit I get so tied up about things like being on time. I know it's a part of my own sinfulness and almost a compulsion. But the reason I remember this particular instance is because of what Dr. Hoffmeyer said next, which I took down in my notes because I was so struck by it. “What is time anyway? Think about it, clocks are a relatively new invention. The system of time is kind of made up and defies itself on many levels.” At this point I started to think – where is he going with this philosophical theorizing on time – where is the syllabus? But as he continued I saw the insight – He admitted to not wearing a watch himself – and said, “It might be a good spiritual discipline to set all the clocks in your house at slightly different times. He continued, “because anything you think “it has to be this way” you should try to shake free from that idolatry. If you always get the same ice cream flavor, try something different, if you always drive the same route to work, try something different. Shake yourself free from idolatry, he told us. And I think it starts by thinking of whatever systems you have created, whenever you think “it has to be this way,” whatever rules you have made for yourself and taken them as law, when you begin to worship the system you've created – it's idolatry – shake free of it.

So what is it for you – what is it that ties you in knots and has you thinking “it has to be this way?” For me, one of those things is timeliness, but overall the number of systems like this we have created, each with their own rules, is mind-boggling. We have systems for how we dress – never wear navy and black together, no white after labor day – maybe you think “it has to be this way.” We have systems for how we talk to each other, for social interaction – things that are okay or not okay to say. And from school lunchrooms to workplaces we have created systems of rules, written and unwritten, of how it “has to be.” The result is that we end up valuing the system, the rules, more than the person standing in front of us. We create these systems with mostly good intent – for the sake of good order, and even to help others – but people fall through the cracks and get hurt – because the system comes before the person.

Picture the scene from our gospel reading. It's the sabbath, it's worship time, and everyone is listening to Jesus, this rabbi from Nazareth giving a sermon. But no one recorded or even remembered the sermon because of this unusual thing that happened right in the middle of it. In the middle of his sermon, Jesus notices a woman who has not even said anything, crippled, outside the inner circle of worshipers, interrupts himself, and heals her. The rules say this is not the way “it has to be.”

Perhaps you see yourself as the crippled woman who is healed – you have seen Christ work changes in your life, God has helped you stand up straight, see things differently, just like her. Maybe you can see where Jesus himself is coming from, and you love trying his part on for size because of his exciting accusation - “You hypocrites!” We are most hesitant but most fitted for this last role – the synagogue leaders. It fits, all to well, and we know we are like them, we argue against God and for our own idolatry every time we think “it has to be this way.” I know I get stubborn and it blinds me from seeing where God is working because where God works does not stay within the lines, does not follow my rules. Pastor Wayne Shelor who was my boss when I was a camp counselor used to remind us to discard the schedule when the Holy Spirit interrupts – something hard for me to do. Sometimes I miss God's words to me because I am too busy thinking – “it has to be this way” – and it wasn't. Good order in the synagogue matters, and they are following God's law, but the leaders of the synagogue cared for the order of the system over the individual. But often the rules are broken and God breaks through anyway, and thank goodness! God interrupts our idolatry of thinking “it has to be this way” and shows us God's presence among us.

Whereas we get caught up in the system, in thinking “it has to be this way,” God does not. In this healing story Christ's action transcends the system, to care instead for the individual. God is about the particular, about the individual. Like the woman in the story, you the person matter more to God than any system or any rule.

And here today, is Sunday. The sabbath, which has its own set of behaviors and rules given by God. The sabbath is not another rule, another thing that we think – “it has to be this way” - something that ties us up. It's the opposite - The sabbath, and Jesus' action that day in the synagogue, is about freeing us, liberating us from all the systems, from all the idolatries, from all the cares that we carry through our week. The Sabbath and worshiping on this day are not meant to be another thing to add to our busy schedules, it's meant to be a break from them. Celebrating a sabbath is not meant to be another thing that we feel tied up by, that we start thinking “it has to be this way” because the sabbath isn't something we do but something that God does. God gives us the practice of sabbath as a gift, as freedom, instituted with the ten commandments, to remind all God's people and celebrate how God gives freedom, just as God had just given the Israelites freedom from slavery in Egypt.

God's idea of the sabbath is not about mandatory relaxation – because the phrase itself seems like an oxymoron – mandatory relaxation doesn't seem very relaxing, does it?

The sabbath is about liberation, about freeing us. About God's action in Christ in the words of scripture, at the table, to untie us, lead us to the baptismal waters, and claim us as God's child, where nothing else matters. Our ability to delight in the Lord, to celebrate the sabbath, to have relationship with God does not depend on our own work or how well we follow rules, but on God's work. Jesus has made it possible for us to be liberated, untied – just like the woman healed in the gospel reading. Jesus fulfilled all of the “if” clauses in the Isaiah text – he removed the yoke, removed the speaking of evil, fed the hungry, and Jesus honored God's way all the way to death. There is no conditionality to it, because of what Jesus did for you and me. It's not about if you do it this way, but it's that Jesus did it this way, healing and liberating us. Liberating us so that here at Christ Lutheran we do feed the hungry in Christ's name. Here at Christ Lutheran we offer words of comfort to each other and know it's just a glimpse of God's love. Christ unties us, liberates us, and so I can say to you and you can say to each other God's promises of the sabbath with a sureness. “The LORD will guide you continually, and satisfy your needs in parched places, and make your bones strong; and you shall be like a watered garden, like a spring of water, whose waters never fail. . . You will take delight in the LORD, and God will make you ride upon the heights of the earth; God will feed you with the heritage of your ancestor Jacob, for the mouth of the LORD has spoken.” Amen.

What makes you bent out of shape?

This coming Sunday's gospel reading (Luke 13:10-17) tells of Jesus healing a woman whose body has been crippled, bent over, for 18 years. In this little healing story - there are so many neat things to chew over, so I offer you these little questions/devotional seeds. (Refer to the text at the bottom of this post)

• The woman in the text does not ASK to be healed. Just her presence moves Jesus to heal her, no questions asked.
• How often do we get so caught up in the asking of our prayer and faith life? Isn't it amazingly comforting that as in this story, we know that God knows just what we need, even if we do not ask.
  
• As simple as it is, this is a powerful reminder that our faith is not about if/then. . . (If I ask God just right, maybe then God will act). God is always acting on your behalf, breaking in, trying to heal you. It's not about the asking or having perfect prayers. God is about relationship.
• Jesus is then criticized for doing this healing on the sabbath. What does "sabbath" mean to you?
  
• Why do you think Jesus refer to the woman as a daughter of Abraham? Very rarely are women and figures like this in the gospels given names. How is this title a powerful one?
  
• Jesus describes his action of healing as setting the woman free from bondage, liberating her, untying her from her worries. What is binding you up? What makes you bent out of shape? Where do you pray that Jesus' liberating action will move?
• As so often in Luke, the response of the people is to rejoice and praise. Where is our rejoice and praise? What do you praise God for this day?
  

¹⁰Now he was teaching in one of the synagogues on the sabbath. ¹¹And just then there appeared a woman with a spirit that had crippled her for eighteen years. She was bent over and was quite unable to stand up straight. ¹²When Jesus saw her, he called her over and said, "Woman, you are set free from your ailment." ¹³When he laid his hands on her, immediately she stood up straight and began praising God. ¹⁴But the leader of the synagogue, indignant because Jesus had cured on the sabbath, kept saying to the crowd, "There are six days on which work ought to be done; come on those days and be cured, and not on the sabbath day." ¹⁵But the Lord answered him and said, "You hypocrites! Does not each of you on the sabbath untie his ox or his donkey from the manger, and lead it away to give it water? ¹⁶And ought not this woman, a daughter of Abraham whom Satan bound for eighteen long years, be set free from this bondage on the sabbath day?" ¹⁷When he said this, all his opponents were put to shame; and the entire crowd was rejoicing at all the wonderful things that he was doing.

Peace+
Vicar Brett

God gives us faith to proclaim

Vicar Brett Wilson – Mary, Mother of Our Lord – Luke 1:46-55 – August 15, 2010

Downstairs, in the t.v. room at my parents' house, on the back wall you will see proudly framed and carefully preserved one relic of my dad's past. It's a poster from a protest he participated in against the war in Vietnam. This sermon is not about war, but it is about protesting. Our first reading, from Isaiah, of course the psalm, and our gospel reading, Mary's Magnificat all share something in common – they're all songs. Songs.
If I had a hammer. Blowin' in the wind. We Shall Overcome. These are all protest songs. I didn't realize until I read that “This Land is Your Land” was written by Woody Guthrie as a protest song. We can probably all hum the tune – this land is your land. . . And it's not that the song isn't patriotic like we all think it is, but it is a protest song. Guthrie wrote it as a replacement for “God bless America,” which he thought was too unrealistic. But the last couple verses that are most prophetic, most protesting, are often left out. They read -
As I went walking, I saw a sign there,
And on the sign it said, “No Trespassing”
But on the other side, it didn't say nothing,
That side was made for you and me.

In the squares of the city, in the shadow of a steeple;
By the relief office, I'd seen my people.
As they stood there hungry,
I stood there asking,
Is this land made for you and me?

These more “realistic” verses of Guthrie's anthem are not too hard for us to visualize here in America today. With no trespassing signs a common sight in the city and how hotly debated the Mexico border has been lately, is there something deeper and harder about singing those words – this land is made for you and me – or do we think we should get to choose who the “you” is? East Point, Georgia, made the news this week because 30,000 people lined up in the streets to apply for a voucher to get help paying rent. This story, maybe not on such a scale, could take place here in Lancaster. And right here in Lancaster seeing 100 or more line up for the community meals couldn't we echo Guthrie's tongue in cheek last verse – As they stood there hungry – I stood there asking, Is this land made for you and me?
Mary's song is our gospel reading for today, and I think it is important that we take note that she sings. Singing takes a passion and power that changes our words, and Mary's too. But consider with me for a moment, that Mary's song here shares much with protest songs. A protest song is a song which is associated with a movement for social change. This is what Mary's song is. She is calling in social change. After all, couldn't Mary's song be the protest song of those people weighed down by their rent in Georgia and in Lancaster – couldn't she sing with them - “God has brought the powerful down from their thrones, and lifted up the lowly.” And for those who wait in line for community meals or for those people I saw when I visited India in January waiting for water trucks so they could just get their container filled, Mary sings with them “God has filled the hungry with good things, and sent the rich away empty.”
We might picture Mary, at least in part, as this submissive, quiet, motherly, serene figure, and of course, always with the blue veil, imprinted in our minds by hundreds of paintings and Christmas pageants. But Mary's song, the testament of her faith inspired by the Holy Spirit and proclaiming God's action – there's nothing timid about it. And in many ways, it's a protest song. It's not about politics, but it is about justice. And yes, justice sometimes gets political. Mary's faith, which was later reflected in the person and mission of Jesus, is revolutionary. It's about social change. God is about social change.
But something sets Mary's song apart from most modern protest songs. There's a fundamental difference. It is protesting, advocating social change. But it's also something deeper. Mary sings, “48for he has looked with favor on the lowliness of his servant. Surely, from now on all generations will call me blessed; 49for the Mighty One has done great things for me, and holy is his name. 50His mercy is for those who fear him from generation to generation. 51He has shown strength with his arm; he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts. 52He has brought down the powerful from their thrones, and lifted up the lowly;
53he has filled the hungry with good things, and sent the rich away empty.” These words do not just protest the way things are, they proclaim. This song proclaims first that God has acted in Mary's life individually. It proclaims how God has acted in the world for social justice, and in Greek the tense is like a snapshot, and can include the present. Mary is proclaiming God active in the present. She is not just protesting for social change, she is calling out God's past and current action to make that change real, here and now, in visible ways.
In the gospel of Luke Mary's song does not stand alone as a voice for social justice. In this gospel repeatedly Jesus talks about a radical reversal and leveling of fortunes. This change, social change beyond our imaginations, is real. And with the resurrection, this equation of justice is sealed once and for all, which the one who was high, lifted up on the cross so that in the end, you and I, just as lowly as the next one in the pew or on the street, so that you could be lifted up in the end. And in the end, this justice will be fully realized.
Protesting is a good thing, and we are called to do so, it's the first step to proclamation. Recognizing where social change needs to happen is the first step - protesting, and then calling God's action as you see it in that change is the second step. God gave Mary the faith to proclaim. As God gives you faith, given Mary as an example, you too can proclaim. Proclaiming is just calling out God's action where you see it in the world. You can proclaim God in what you see in the everyday – in your family, in the people you happen to meet in errands you run, wherever. Sometimes, we find it easier to remember our words when we sing them together, so we gather here each week to proclaim God active in our lives, in Lancaster, in the world. And sometimes we cannot find words to say but we know a song that fits just right – maybe it's a hymn that helps you get through your day. I have been taught that the hymn of the day is the congregation's opportunity to proclaim, pray, and preach back to the preacher.
So with the fifth verse of our hymn of the day, pray with me: Give us lips to sing God's glory, tongues God's mercy to proclaim, throats that shout the hope that fills us, mouths to speak God's holy name. Alleluia! Alleluia! May the light which God sends Fill our songs with Alleluias, Alleluias without end.

Mary, Mary

This coming Sunday happens to be August 15. August 15 happens to be the day every year when the church celebrates the festival of Mary, Mother of Our Lord. So this Sunday we will celebrate in worship this festival/feast day.

Perhaps like you, as a Lutheran I have mixed feelings/thoughts about Mary as a religious figure. My parents were both raised Roman Catholic, and that is the background of my whole extended family. Last summer I did my hospital chaplaincy internship at a very Roman Catholic Hospital, St. Mary's in Langhorne, PA. While there I went to mass at the hospital chapel every day. It was part of the experience, which I loved and learned a lot from. But often before, after, or during mass I would find my gaze drift over to my left, where a larger than life size wooden carving of Mary hung on the wall.

Mary is a complex figure. Her closeness to the divinity of Christ but also the other two parts of the trinity make her a mysterious figure. There are countless stories, traditions, and religious devotions that have developed over her since the early church. Now, people see Mary in the glass on sides of buildings, on grilled cheese, in the sun of the Mojave Desert - http://www.mt.net/~watcher/october13marymojave.html - I just saw a television documentary on this practice of devotees of the Marian movement - they take polaroid pictures directly of the sun - and claim apparitions of Mary in the rays.

I chose the image for this blog post because this stained glass image of Mary contains so many little nods and symbols and complex images - can you spot a few?

And yet, amidst the cloud of everything around her, I keep getting pulled back to what the text actually is for this Sunday - and that's what Mary says. It's her song of praise at the end of the first chapter of Luke, often called the Magnificat. This is a powerful song - what do these words say to you either within or separate from knowing Mary declares them?

⁴⁶ And Mary said,
"My soul magnifies the Lord,
⁴⁷ and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior,
⁴⁸ for he has looked with favor on the lowliness of his servant.
Surely, from now on all generations will call me blessed;
⁴⁹ for the Mighty One has done great things for me,
and holy is his name.
⁵⁰ His mercy is for those who fear him
from generation to generation.
⁵¹ He has shown strength with his arm;
he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts.
⁵² He has brought down the powerful from their thrones,
and lifted up the lowly;
⁵³ he has filled the hungry with good things,
and sent the rich away empty.
⁵⁴ He has helped his servant Israel,
in remembrance of his mercy,
⁵⁵ according to the promise he made to our ancestors,
to Abraham and to his descendants forever."

Peace+

Vicar Brett

the mystery of grace.

"I do not at all understand the mystery of grace - only that it meets us where we are, but does not leave us where it found us."

- Anne Lamott, from Traveling Mercies: Some Thoughts on Faith

This quote really struck me, and I really appreciate it reflective of part of the mystery of grace, but I would perhaps replace "it" with "God." What do you think?

This quote came yesterday from something else I subscribe to by email - the Faith and Politics Institute's Weekly Reflection. It's just a brief quote or little paragraph of reflection once a week. The FPI is an organization that seeks to serve Congress and citizens for reflections and conversation around faith and politics. Their logo, the dove with the capitol building inset, I think is an interesting mix of (quasi?) religious and distinct political imagery.

Peace+

Vicar Brett

Daily Bible Readings from the ELCA

One little devotional tool I really use and enjoy is that I am simply on the ELCA's mailing list for the daily lectionary bible reading. That way, every morning when I wake up, there it is in my inbox, reminding me of God's presence with me. I find that the lectionary reading for the day, which is standardized, so often seems to be just the verses I needed to read that day. It's pretty amazing.

To join, go to http://listserv.elca.org/cgi-bin/wa.exe?SUBED1=bible-readings&A=1 . Just type in your name and email address, and hit the "Join Bible-Readings" button at the bottom. This is a service of our churchwide offices of the ELCA, so of course you can trust that this is a secure site and they will not share your address or send you spam or absolutely anything other than the daily bible reading.

If you have time, and especially if you check your email daily, give it a try! It may be a good way to bring a short daily devotion and reminder of God's presence into your life.

Paths untrodden, perils unknown - sermon 8/8/10

Below is the sermon from yesterday, Sunday, August 8. It is primarily on the Hebrews text, though it also touches on the gospel text, Luke 12:32-40.
Here's a little secret - this was the second complete sermon I wrote this week!

Vicar Brett Wilson – Pentecost 11C – Hebrews 11:1-3, 8-16 – Christ Lutheran - 8/8/10

I like to wake up early, but I find I am often a grumpy morning person. But I really enjoy that time, at the start of the day, on the threshold of everything and anything that might happen. I like the silence and I really enjoy the devotion of praying morning prayer, which is in the LBW. One of Martin Luther's prayers I pray often for morning prayer is on page 137, and it starts -

Lord, you have called your servants to ventures of which we cannot see the ending, by paths as yet untrodden, by perils unknown.

A big part of my own sinfulness, and maybe you can relate, is that I really like to know where I am going. It's not that I don't like a nice surprise now and then, but I like to be on time, I like to be in control of my path, and know what dangers lie ahead. So praying this prayer some mornings I take a begrudging sigh - “O God, you have called your servants to ventures of which we cannot see the ending, by paths as yet untrodden, perils unknown.” So reading today's text from Genesis and Hebrews, I wonder what Abraham would have thought about this prayer. He could certainly relate. Hebrews reads “Abraham obeyed when he was called to set out for a place that he was to receive as an inheritance; and he set out, not knowing where he was going.”

Like many of the characters in the gospel reading for today, Abraham (and Sarah too!) were right on the threshold of big steps that would take them down paths unknown. Perhaps in recent days you have felt like Abraham and Sarah. This doesn't mean you can relate to taking a big journey, moving hundreds of miles without a set plan or idea, though maybe you can. Maybe you feel like you're standing on the threshold in a relationship, in your career, with your health, and you can't really see what's on the path ahead. When I pray this prayer sometimes it hits me in very practical ways – that these unknown paths might be – how I am going to make it through this next week and get everything done? How am I going to pay my next bill? How I am going to care for my parents when they are sick? What classes should I take – for that matter, what am I supposed to do with my life? In some ways these are hard words to hear and pray – that God calls us on these ventures where we don't know what is coming up ahead.

Often when I am reading the bible and something doesn't make sense or I come across a confusing parable, I have learned to ask myself – well who is God in this, and who are we? As we read together two weeks ago, Abraham often refers to himself as God's servant. So God is master, and we are, like Abraham and Sarah, servants, just like in the form of this prayer. “Lord, you have called your servants.” Now there's a lot of baggage that we attach with this idea of servitude, and even more when we are honest that every time it says “servant” in the bible it actually means “slave.” But ultimately, in every way, this relationship, God as master and us as servants – no – slaves, is a blessing, and it is our word of comfort for those paths unknown. Because in this relationship, who is in charge? The master. And the master is none other than the God who created you, who as promised to Abraham, is your shield, who is the architect of a heavenly city for you. This is the same master who in Luke's parable, returns home not to scold or command the slaves but instead to surprise them, reverse the roles, and stoop to serve them, just as Christ does on the cross that we may be forgiven.

Yes, God calls you to ventures of which we cannot see the ending, but the blessing here is – God calls you. God has called you and will call you and because this is the relationship, God will be with you on every step of that path, no matter how dark and unclear the road ahead might be or how many perils unfairly litter your life.

As the prayer continues, “Give us faith to go out with good courage, not knowing where we go, but only that your hand is leading us and your love supporting us,

Faith is trust. The assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen. But it also means that as we look out from where we stand, even if we cannot see what lies ahead, we know that by faith, the world is prepared, shaped, framed, by God's word. God's word, in Christ, in scriptures, in God's action in our lives every day shapes the world around us, shapes our path ahead, and how we perceive it. God gives you faith, and God gives you eyes to see little glimpses of how God's promises are surely fulfilled. In glimpses like children offering and showing their faith in prayer at a dinner table, or snack table at VBS, in the glimpse of God's kingdom of people being fed, friends forgiving each other, families coming together, even in crisis.

God gives faith, and God gives you eyes to see that even though the path ahead cannot be mapped out with any certainty, God gives a feeling of assurance, a trust in God's presence because the promise is not that the road will be easy, as it wasn't for Abraham, but that there is no turning back. That God is not ashamed to be called your God, indeed, God has prepared a heavenly city for you. Ultimately, because there is no turning back, this is where your path leads from baptism through Christ to eternal life, and this is the sure promise, along with right now, God gives you faith to go out with good courage, like Abraham and Sarah, not knowing where you might go, but that God's hand is leading you and God's love is supporting you.

So will you pray with me. Lord, you have called your servants to ventures of which we cannot see the ending, by paths as yet untrodden, by perils unknown. Give us faith to go out with good courage, not knowing where we go, but only that your hand is leading us and your love supporting us, Through Jesus Christ, our Lord, Amen.

Peace+
Vicar Brett