Where do you store up treasures?

This coming Sunday, August 1, in the gospel reading in the gospel of Luke, Jesus tells this parable -

"Take care! Be on your guard against all kinds of greed; for one's life does not consist in the abundance of possessions." ¹⁶Then he told them a parable: "The land of a rich man produced abundantly. ¹⁷And he thought to himself, 'What should I do, for I have no place to store my crops?' ¹⁸Then he said, 'I will do this: I will pull down my barns and build larger ones, and there I will store all my grain and my goods. ¹⁹And I will say to my soul, Soul, you have ample goods laid up for many years; relax, eat, drink, be merry.' ²⁰But God said to him, 'You fool! This very night your life is being demanded of you. And the things you have prepared, whose will they be?' ²¹So it is with those who store up treasures for themselves but are not rich toward God."

The cartoon here references different verses in Matthew, but perhaps is along the same lines. What do you think Jesus is saying about greed here?
It is such a deep question to me to consider - what would it look like to be rich toward God?
How do you feel about considering such biblical issues as wealth and poverty? Especially in Luke, Jesus is especially interested in having open, no-nonsense discussions of the reality of inequality and what God's kingdom will look like instead.
I had the opportunity to visit India on a seminary trip. We visited some tent villages/slums, and also some of the wealthiest corporations, malls, and other places. In this picture at left is the outskirts of Navi Mumbai (New Bombay), where in the background and really much closer all around, high rises - condos, office buildings, and malls are going up. But a large, large part of the population still lives like you see in the foreground, in this tent village. Many people live day-to-day, not storing up much of anything, as it makes me think of in the gospel text.


We know, of course, that we do not have to go to India to see such a disparity between the rich and the poor and a place to consider what Jesus talks about all through Luke. Do you feel the sense of urgency that God speaks of in Jesus' parable - that this very night your life is being demanded of you? Some would say that today's Christian church has lost that sense of urgency that might have been easier understood for the earliest Christians.

I preached on this text last November at my home congregation, Christ the King Lutheran in Richmond, Virginia. When I considered and preached on the text before, I thought a lot about what those barns are that the text talks about - what do we store up for ourselves and what does God do in response?
Now I am drawn much more to this question of human greed versus being rich toward God . . . what do you think?

Peace+

Vicar Brett

Praying is like a shameless child . . . Luke 11:1-13

Sermon by Vicar Brett Wilson – Pentecost 9 – Proper 12 – 7/25/10

The readings are - Genesis 18:20-32, Psalm 138, Colossians 2:6-15, and Luke 11:1-13

“So I say to you, Ask, and it will be given you; search, and you will find; knock, and the door will be opened for you. ¹⁰For everyone who asks receives, and everyone who searches finds, and for everyone who knocks, the door will be opened.”

Can you picture yourself at the door? Knocking? Think with me about this image of prayer as knocking on God's door. Maybe you've come here today with something really on your heart, and you've praying desperately about it, knocking hard on that door, over and over. Maybe you've come here today feeling like you don't knock enough, or you don't really see a place for prayer in your day – you've knocked before, and the door didn't open.

It can be a hard image. I'll tell you flat out, I really struggle with these verses. When I read them, I think we imagine ourselves on the outside, of this front door, of a huge, fortified stone house. Perhaps it's a stormy night and the door is this imposing, solid wooden door. I knock and knock. I pray and pray. I pray for something, I bargain with God, I try every way possible to get in that door – I pray in different ways – I ring the doorbell, I shout, I knock on the windows, try the knocker. . .

It feels like this sometimes. And then we get frustrated – because – right here – it says, knock and the door will be opened for you. Which makes it sound like, pray, and everything will be opened, like a key in a lock, just the way we request it. These are not frivolous prayers, either. We pray for our family, our friends, for people's very lives. . . We pray for this specific door to open.

In our gospel reading, verse 9 reads -”I tell you, even though he will not get up and give him anything because he is his friend, at least because of his persistence he will give up and give him whatever he needs.” So then we hear this and decide that alright, I'm just going to knock until I get an answer. So I put myself on a disciplined prayer regimen. I've seen bumper stickers with this mantra – pray until something happens – PUSH. It's not a bad idea. It's never a bad idea to pray. But when our prayers become dependent on that second part – so desperately longing for the “something happens” part. . . And you know, we feel like sometimes, this lets us down. Someone we're praying for dies, leaves us, things change, we feel like we failed. Then, this leads us to think of prayer as part of an if/then relationship, and we have to be careful how we imagine this door – how we interpret these texts – because then we hinge our whole relationship with God on results, on our desires, on an if/then relationship.

Jesus is not teaching us that prayer is an if/then contract – if you pray . . . then you get . . . No! That's not the way it works – it's about the relationship.

So when you consider this image of prayer as knocking, and asking and searching, remember, God has said to you - “I love you unconditionally, no matter what.” In Jesus who nails our sins to the cross, erases the record against us, God demonstrates once and for all this is not about mathematics. It's not about one prayer equals one gift. Because God loves you unconditionally, there is no more if . . . then relationship here. God does not play games, including this game we imagine about being outside in the cold, knocking with our prayers.

Prayer is about relationship. God has said “I love you unconditionally,” and all we can do is respond, relating to God in prayer, acknowledging the deepest relationship we have, living out that relationship in prayer.

If we think of this parable Jesus tells about knocking on the door in the context of the whole passage, we get a better sense of the real picture here. Let me offer you another image of what it means to be in relationship with God and this image of praying as knocking.

First of all, erase the image of the front door. It's not the front door Jesus is saying to knock at in verse 9. It cannot be. Because, you're already in the door. The prayer that Jesus teaches us, reminds us that when we pray we don't knock on the front door, out in the cold, because of who God is. Who is God here? Of course – it's this easy – we've said all our lives. God is our father. So we are not knocking at the front door for God – because we live under his roof. You're not at the front door knocking in the cold with your prayers because you've already been let in. This is your father's house. And Jesus said, “John 14:2-3 In my Father's house there are many dwelling places. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you?” Because of Jesus, you have a permanent place there in the father's house, the father that loves you unconditionally.

So when you knock, when you pray, know that you're already in, and you're at home. This is your heavenly father's house, who made you and takes your prayers seriously. Many times in the bible, like Abraham persuading God on behalf of the people of Sodom, people are able to call in God's action into a situation, and change the course, even change God's mind.

It doesn't matter how you knock in your prayers, but it's about the relationship. And the relationship, from our side, is described in the parable as one of “persistence.” But I have to tell you, language nerd that I am, that “persistence” is a bad translation. Jesus describes our prayer life not so much as persistent, but rather the word means “shameless.” Shameless! What would it look like to pray shamelessly?

We get a good idea of what shamelessness looks like in Abraham approaching and talking God down in our first reading. We acknowledge, like Abraham, that we are just dust and ashes, just children, but in prayer you can approach God without shame, like Abraham, like a shameless child. Because especially at certain ages, usually before the teenage self-consciousness sets in, children are shameless – they'll run up, blurt out whatever's on their minds, and we are, after all, God's children.

So in the end, interpreting Jesus' teaching on prayer here gives quite a different image than where we started. You are not out in the cold standing at the front door but inside. You are not knocking and praying hoping you get it right, requesting something from a temperamental friend who may or may not get up and help. This is your parent. This is God the parent who made you and knows how to give you good gifts even so much more than even the most well-intentioned earthly parent. Jesus teaches you to pray shamelessly.

Reflecting on all these together gave me a completely new image for these verses. Jesus is not teaching prayer as door-knocking and a formula for every door, every desire we have to be opened. Jesus teaches here that you are God's child, inside your father's house. And because you are a child, you pray to your God shamelessly. Prayer is like being the five year old child who has just discovered something amazing and shamelessly runs in, interrupts the parents' conversation and shares their hopes, excitement, praise. You can shamelessly share your joy with God in prayer – of a little triumph at work, a new level to a relationship, or a new opportunity. Prayer is also like being the child who wakes, fearful and sweating from a nightmare, and finding yourself in the father's house, only barely knocks, and bursts in to the parent's, shamelessly, to come to the one who loves you unconditionally with all your fears, frustration, and sadness. Without fear, shame, or self-consciousness, you can share your longings, your sadness, your anger with God – share frustrations over things like your finances, or changed relationships, or grief . . . Our father, who art in heaven, who is here now, teaches you to pray that you can come to God shamelessly, at all times, for all things. Even in the Lord's prayer, which some might think is just words because it is so well-known, there is this shameless expression of a relationship. When you pray, the Lord's prayer or any prayer, consider it as shameless and full of love and faith as a five year old, bursting in to the room of the parent, who will listen, take you seriously, but most of all, hold you, and promise that everything will be alright. And it will. For Jesus has prepared a room for you in the Father's house, when Jesus says, “For everyone who asks receives, and everyone who searches finds, and for everyone who knocks, the door will be opened,” this is what he means – that in the end, you have a place eternally. It's shameless love, and you pray with the confidence that you will rest in the our father's house forever. Amen.

Open - A video reflection on Prayer

This is a video by and featuring (Pastor) Rob Bell, who produced this series of videos, called Nooma. This one is called open, and I find it a very powerful, real, down to earth reflection on prayer. It is amazing, I think, and definitely worth your time.





Peace+

Vicar Brett

Our Father . . .

This coming Sunday (7/25) the gospel reading is Luke 11:1-13, where Jesus teaches his disciples the prayer we call The Lord's Prayer. It also includes the familiar verses where Jesus teaches about good gifts and to "ask and it will be given to you . . ."

What do you think about this scripture? When you pray the Lord's prayer, what memories or thoughts does it bring to mind? Is this a prayer with deep meaning for you or a special place in your heart?

As a devotional kind of prayer, consider "Today's Lord's Prayer" from the New Zealand Prayer Book below. Give it a try, pray it out loud, and then read it again slowly. How do you feel about this way to pray? What about it does or doesn't resonate with you?


Eternal Spirit,
Earth-maker, Pain bearer, Life-giver,
Source of all that is and that shall be,
Father and Mother of us all,
Loving God, in whom is heaven:

The hallowing of your name echo through the universe!
The way of your justice be followed by the peoples of the world!
Your heavenly will be done by all created beings!
Your commonwealth of peace and freedom
sustain our hope and come on earth!

With the bread we need for today,
feed us.
In the hurts we absorb from one another,
forgive us.
In times of temptation and test,
strengthen us.
From trial too great to endure,
spare us.
From the grip of all that is evil,
free us.
For you reign in the glory of the power that is love,
now and forever. Amen.

July 18 - Genesis 18:1-10a & Luke 10:38-42

by Vicar Brett Wilson - 8th Sunday after Pentecost – Genesis 18:1-10a & Luke 10:38-42 (check out the texts before reading the sermon)

What does it mean to show good hospitality? Hospitality is a hard thing. I am certainly not perfect at it, and maybe you can relate. I don't always want to answer my phone when I see it's an area code I don't recognize. I'll admit it, sometimes I even actively avoid people, though I know it's terrible. Maybe in your family or friends there's someone everyone avoids because they know even talking to that person will mean having them for dinner, lending them your car, time you can't spare, or “just a little” money. I like having people over for dinner, but even that hospitality can be hard sometimes – so many things could go wrong! On the surface, these readings for today from Genesis and Luke seem to send confusing messages about what is good hospitality. Are we supposed to be busy, anxious hosts that make sure everything's perfect, or instead care only about enjoying the company of our guest?
In Genesis Abraham practically falls over himself to rush to be hospitable to his guests. Even though no one calls him on it, Abraham seems to be rushing around to prepare with the same anxious energy as Martha. Perhaps if Abraham had sat with his guests and talked with them a little more he wouldn't have been so surprised at the promise that they gave him. Because remember, in the next verses just after our passage ends, the visitors have promised them a son, but Sarah laughs in disbelief, and God has to repeat it to disbelieving Abraham.
Abraham's guests are a little mysterious – God is present there, somehow in or among these three “men” that come to visit. They aren't called angels or anything like that, but their identity is mysterious.
Mary and Martha have it a little clearer when it comes to their dinner guest. Jesus is over for dinner, and we get the idea from tradition that they're both good friends and supporters of Jesus. But I want you to think about – what would you do if Jesus came to dinner at your house. It seems like a pretty silly question, doesn't it – but imagine it for a moment. If Jesus called on the phone to come over for dinner, what would you think? What would you do?
What if Jesus came to dinner at your house?
I used to work at a Lutheran summer camp where we as the staff often did this skit for the kids called “Jesus is coming to dinner.” In this skit a regular, modern person gets a call on her cell phone and – it's Jesus! And much to the her surprise, Jesus invites himself over to her house for dinner that very night. So she goes about preparing, anxiously fretting about what one possibly could fix for Jesus for dinner, when there is a knock at the door. She thinks, hmm, that wasn't very much warning, but opens the door to find not Jesus, but an annoying camper who has a huge stick caught in his hair and about 5,000 questions and worries. She begrudgingly lets him in and listens to him, gets the stick out, but her anxiety builds that she won't be ready for Jesus' arrival. Then, just as she finally tears herself away to get dinner started, there's another knock at the door, and it's a lost hiker looking for a drink of water and a place to nap. She gets more and more annoyed and anxious, but lets him in. Then, a third knock, and she's sure now it's Jesus and answers the door almost in tears that dinner isn't ready. But yet again it's not Jesus but some annoying stranger who needs something from her. Now in a chaotic house with three strangers, her cell phone rings again. She answers nervously, and when Jesus responds, she tries to ask him when he'll arrive for dinner, so she can get these crazy people out of her house and have it perfect for him. Jesus responds sounding confused - “What do you mean?” “Well, I thought you were coming for dinner...” Jesus laughs and replies “I did come, thanks for having me over. I came in the form of all those people, and you welcomed me. Remember I'm always with you, even when I come in a form that you don't expect.”
As silly and cheesy as this skit may be, I think it holds the real truth of God's action in the scriptures this morning. It gets us past worrying about our own behavior. The faith that we proclaim has to be more than that. The gospel isn't about what we do, it's about what God does. We aren't perfect and we aren't ever going to be a perfect balance of Mary and Martha. This silly skit gets to the point of what God does in your life here for you right now, today. No matter how we may handle it or respond, Jesus comes to you. It doesn't matter what you may have for dinner or if you can prepare your finest spread like Abraham did or manage to focus and listen like Mary, but Jesus comes. Jesus is present with you today. Jesus makes himself at home, in your home, everyday, even in unexpected ways.
It's important that these stories from Genesis and Luke both happen around meals. For us as humans, it seems like a universal thing that a meal isn't just where we fill our stomachs, but time shared together, something deeper. It always matters who you eat with – from school lunchrooms, to breakrooms at work, to your family table. But no matter where or with whom you eat, you do not share meals alone – God is present in your life and acts to remind you of God's love, and this promise is sealed – in a meal. These stories today witness that God comes to us in one of the most common, understandable ways we have, just having lunch. Jesus and his disciples are always sharing meals, and God and Jesus often share meals to show that there are no divisions, welcoming all people to the table. Jesus often used meals as a way to break barriers, including this one with Mary and Martha. In both these stories of meals in scripture, God uses the setting of a meal for some teaching and a promise. This is the same thing that we receive today with this meal – teaching and a promise. In this communion meal, God's promise is sure. God's presence is here, the new covenant with you, the new promise, for the forgiveness of sins. Jesus our savior died and left you not alone but with these promises, sealed because of his complete action, for you, once and for all.
For Lutherans, communion is a sacrament, and a sacrament means that in the end, however we respond, whether we are like Abraham or Sarah, Mary, or Martha, it's not about you getting to God, God comes down to you. Jesus is present here – this after all, is Christ's own body and blood, given for you. It is no different than Christ's true presence with Mary and Martha that day, and God's presence with Abraham. This has something to teach you – that from the reality of this meal you experience Christ's hospitality. Christ invites you to his table, at which “he offers [you] all the treasures he brought from heaven for [you], to which he most graciously invites us into other places, as when he says, 'Come to me, all you that are weary and carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest.'” This is Christ's hospitality and it is for all people, free gift of God's grace for you. This is the hospitality you enjoy each time you come to communion, each time you remember the grace in your baptism. These promises and the presence of God are what you take with you and proclaim your whole life long. In this meal, in the forgiveness of sins, in our faith, it means that our hospitality may not be perfect, but we are blessed to share Christ's hospitality. The Holy Spirit empowers you to share Christ's hospitality with the world – you're already doing it with the community meal – there is Christ's hospitality for all people. In the way you have welcomed me, there is Christ's hospitality. You are blessed to share Christ's hospitality in ordinary, little ways. And though Christ's hospitality may start at this table, it is not confined to the church – it happens in homes, around tables, in everyday conversations. Christ's hospitality may even catch you when you need it in an unexpected way. These scriptures, this meal with Christ, is not about choosing to behave like Mary or Martha. This table is where Christ's hospitality shapes you, and God chooses you. Amen.

possibly a preview for this Sunday's sermon.

This Sunday's texts of Genesis 18:1-10a and Luke 10:38-42 both involve God's presence or Jesus coming over to someone's house, and the concepts of God's presence with us and our hospitality. It makes me think of this skit we used to do at Caroline Furnace Camp where I used to work. The skit is called "Jesus is Coming to Dinner," and I guess is loosely based on Hebrews 13:2 - "Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by doing that some have entertained angels without knowing it," as well as Matthew 25, the verses for this week, and many other biblical images of hospitality.
Enjoy the skit!

July 11 - Luke 10:25-37

Before reading the sermon, first read the gospel text for this week, the seventh Sunday after Pentecost, Luke 10:25-37.

This week in conversations with congregation members, friends, and people at the community meal I have run into a common thread – I heard people looking for God to give answers. I know I want answers sometimes too. I look for answers through prayer, trial and error, deep thought, research, asking friends, I look for answers to know what to do next, how handle a situation, and also how to feel, how to think. We want to know the answer at big transitions in our lives, at critical times. I want to know the answer to why it's been so hot, when the oil will stop flooding into the ecosystems, and when we will find peace in Afghanistan. I also want to know simple answers – will tomorrow be okay? A lot of times as a person of faith I know it is so easy to think – come on God, what's the answer? Show me the path. It's not really a comforting feeling, that feeling of looking for answers.

It is so common, so human to want an answer- and this lawyer questioning Jesus is no different. But is this the way that Jesus thinks and acts? In terms of answers? Because if we look at the whole passage, does Jesus ever give a straight answer to the lawyer? The lawyer questions him and Jesus turns it right back to him with more questions. We think that Jesus, our savior, will be the source of simple answers, easy to digest. Some preachers or denominations will try to boil it down to just that – to simple answers – yes/no, black/white, numbers and figures – and not all of them are wrong – but is that who Jesus is? If you read the gospels Jesus most often seems almost. . . evasive. People question him, from his closest disciples to Pharisees, and it is rare he gives a straight answer, and hardly ever a yes or no. Woody Allen joked that he got so frustrated by this in the Jewish tradition that he went in and asked the rabbi, “Why does a rabbi always answer a question with a question?” To which the Rabbi answers, “Why shouldn't a rabbi answer a question with a question?”

The lawyer calls Jesus rabbi, teacher, and asks him a question, and indeed he gets questioned right back. Jesus' response, “you have given the right answer, do this and you will live,” doesn't even seem like enough. Like the lawyer, I know I would still have more questions, and even the simple answer doesn't seem to cut it. It's like the children's book When you give a mouse a cookie, where one answer leads to endless questions. It's like when parents respond to kids of any age with a simple answer – no. And the child asks almost as an immediate response – why? So is just the answer really what we're after? To explain a point Jesus doesn't give an answer but a story. This familiar story. But it's a shocking story.

And it's a shocking story about a man who is left for dead and the person who would be thought by the culture to be most hated, most foul, a Samaritan, comes and saves that person. The Samaritan goes out of his way, conquering death by participating in this story, by not letting it end there, and keeping the story going. In this story the shock is that strength and care, come from the last place, the last person you'd expect. In the shocking and surprising nature of this story God's mercy is revealed – to the lawyer, but also to you and me.

But I can't help but think that this is also part of a larger story, and it's just as shocking. It's a story about a man, who is also God, who is left for dead. And the savior who would be thought by the culture to be invincible, regal, exalted, no one saves him, he dies. Jesus goes out of his way, all the to his own death, conquering death by participating in our stories, by not letting our stories end there, with bondage to sin and death. From death, from the cross, we find strength and care from the last place you'd expect. Christ's power comes from weakness and in the shocking and surprising nature of this story God's mercy is revealed.

Sometimes I think that Jesus' story has become so near, so common to us that we forget how shocking it is. We treat it as if it's just a story and we know the answers, we know the ending. But it's not the ending.

Jesus doesn't often give us simple answers, and sometimes it feels like God doesn't give us answers but more questions. And that is okay. Because in this shocking story of Jesus' life, we have all the answers we need. As cliché as it might sound, Jesus is the answer. And the answer isn't just one word, but this beautiful, shocking story that God came, loved, taught, and died for you, that you may live. This is your story, and it's not over.

Because what these stories say, is that God works in surprising ways and that God is still working on you through these stories. We might think we are looking for answers, but I think we are longing to hear the story. Faith is about stories. Mercy, love, forgiveness, faith, they all are revealed to us deeply in the stories of our scripture.

It is really powerful to me that Jesus is not interested in whether we have the right answers. There is not going to be any quiz. The pattern of God's interaction with people over all time and Jesus' interaction talking to this lawyer isn't about lecturing you or making sure we fill up your minds with the right answers. Jesus wants to share his story, but even more, Jesus moves through the Holy Spirit to be a part of your story, to ask you questions. Your dialogue with God isn't one-sided – this isn't a lecture but a conversation. God wants to dialogue with you your whole life long.

In today's story Jesus shows it's alright to ask questions, it's alright to want the answer, and what comes might not be the answer you expect but a story. And in that story, the Holy Spirit moves, opens your heart, shows you mercy and love. Our God, is about something deeper than simple answers. Stories are a real fabric of who we are. I'm sure you have experienced this in very real ways. If you read about someone on a page, they might seem like just that – a set of simple interview answers about their life – and it's not living. But if you sat down had a cup of coffee with them, asked them questions, heard their stories, and vice versa, then you really know that person. By telling stories you feel mercy – real mercy for a person.

I am working on getting to know the story of Christ Lutheran and as I am, I hear a story of God's work in the world through this church, through you. When you share your story with me or with anyone else, there you are participating in the love and neighborly mercy of Christ. By pausing your day to hear someone's story, a close friend or a stranger, they become a part of your story, and you of theirs, and you are opened to them in a deeper way than any simple answer could provide.

Here at Christ Lutheran the Holy Spirit moves when stories are shared between friends, through you, through the ministries you provide, through your presence in the community. The Holy Spirit opens up our neighborhood to the whole world hear the stories and show mercy to those further than your own block, but also to not forget those who are near.

God reveals God's very nature not through simple answers but through beautiful stories of surprise. Stories like this one of the Samaritan are meant to be surprising, reminding us that Jesus' own story is surprising, illogical even, because love is surprising, and love isn't about logic. Jesus' story is not abstract but it continues here today, with you. Because of Christ's story, in the name of Jesus you are forgiven all your sins – the best news of the week. In Christ's story you participate actively, receiving his body and blood at his table. God knows your story and God will always be a part of it. Our God is a God not of simple answers but of ongoing stories, your story. Just as the Samaritan molds the story of the man beaten by robbers and conquers death for him, God molds your story, claiming you and conquering death for you now, forever. Amen.

July 4 - Luke 10:1-11. 16-20

Before reading the sermon, first read the gospel text for today, Luke 10:1-11, 16-20.

Before coming to seminary, I was a Latin teacher. But you can relax, this sermon is definitely not about or in Latin. But I say that to explain why in my college dorm room I had hanging up this bumper sticker that someone had given me that said “Carpe Diem,” which means “seize the day.” A good friend of mine would tease me about this bumper sticker and always ask if I woke up in the morning saying, “seize the day! Rejoice!” Now really, who wakes up like that? Not me. In fact, tomorrow morning, when you wake up, and it's Monday, is “rejoice!” going to be the first thing that comes into your mind? Perhaps not.
Today you may actually be rejoicing and celebrating our nation and its identity on this fourth of July.  So happy fourth of July!  Rejoice!  Why not?
After all, all of the readings for this morning mention rejoicing, being joyful, or boasting in our savior and his cross. 
The seventy followers of Jesus who are sent out into the world surprise themselves with how joyful they return.  Were they expecting something different?  Are you? They went out on a hard mission.  When you are sent out on a hard day, a hard task, are you expecting joy? Notice that Jesus reassures them “nothing will hurt you” only after they return from their mission.  .Wouldn’t that have been good news to hear at the beginning?
"Rejoice! Nothing will hurt you!" Are these words from Jesus even comforting?  Don’t they seem a little unrealistic?  A little too sappy-sweet?  Nothing will hurt me?  We’ve all been hurt. I know I have. I know I have even hurt myself with my own sin, which even though I know I shouldn't, I leap back to every day. 
This gospel lesson, of Jesus sending out the seventy missionaries might seem a bit distanced from your own life. So let's talk about you, and me, and tomorrow. The seventy in the story are sent, they didn't choose to go, this all about God's action, sending them out. So Jesus isn't calling for a mass sign-up of Christian disciples, but has a message about what it means to be sent. So where are you sent? I'm not talking in grand terms here, but really – tomorrow morning, where are you being sent? To work? For another tired Monday morning? To look for a job? Are you being sent to take care of your family? Are you being sent to be a friend to someone who needs it? Where are you being sent? Monday morning? Tuesday morning? Each ordinary day? When you wake up tomorrow do you think about your day - “Rejoice! nothing will hurt me” or do you think about the parts of your day you know will be unpleasant? I know I do. . .
Because the world does hurt us.  Even in the biblical worlds of these texts, there are hints that there are hurts, there are enemies, there are wounds.  Jerusalem may be called to be rejoicing and seem like this perfect utopia, but what about its enemies?  What about the “rebels” referenced in the psalm?  Aren’t we the rebels sometimes?  We boast about ourselves, exactly as Paul warned against.  And we get hurt.  It happens.  We don’t bear each others’ burdens perfectly, and our own works fall short, just like Paul predicts they will.  If Jesus had told the seventy missionaries before they went out that nothing will hurt them, would they have believed him? 
When we turn on the t.v. And look to the world around us, sometimes we don't find a lot to rejoice about. . . . But there is other news also. There is good news in our gospel lesson today that has something to say to all this.
Thank God it is not up to us to wake up each morning and work to find something to rejoice about. God has already given us all we need to rejoice. We will still have hard days, where we wake up and we don't think – rejoice!, but God is still there, every day, waking us up, rejoicing for us – because our names are written in heaven. Your name is written in heaven. And though it may take me a while to learn for good all of your names, God knows you and God knows your name and when you were born, God rejoiced. And when you were baptized, God wrote your name in heaven, in permanent ink. Jesus says here in our reading for today that this is the reason we have to rejoice – Jesus says - "I watched Satan fall from heaven like a flash of lightning. 19See, I have given you authority to tread on snakes and scorpions, and over all the power of the enemy; and nothing will hurt you. 20Nevertheless, do not rejoice at this, that the spirits submit to you, but rejoice that your names are written in heaven." We rejoice because we do not have to rely on ourselves. God does not judge us based on what we can achieve. God loves us and we can rejoice, praise, and worship, just as we are doing today, rejoicing because our names are written in heaven. This is what Jesus says – rejoice not because of what you do today, but because your name is written in heaven.
While we may get hurt here on earth and these wounds may be deep, when Jesus says “nothing will hurt you,” he's speaking from a different perspective, from God's perspective. And nothing will ever hurt how God thinks about you.  You are God’s own, a laborer in the fields for God’s harvest, of a new creation, daily.  Nothing will ever hurt or change God’s perception of you as God’s very child, claimed in your baptism.  Jesus teaches us here that we rejoice not because of what we have done, but because of what God has done.  And God has once and for all, written your name heaven.  For that, Jesus proclaims that we should rejoice – what is there to worry about – your name is written in heaven.  Not even sin or your own shortcomings, or enemies or situations that conspire against you can take this away. It's a promise, it's the good news for today and each morning we wake up. Not even doubt can take this away because you are God's child and as we are reminded in the bible many times, God does not forget you. Rejoice.
We can proclaim this identity now, as those whose names are written in heaven, today, we already have.  When we sing our hymn of praise, we are proclaiming our names written in heaven.  When we eat and drink at communion we are participating in a holy feast.  When we rejoice in this identity and recognize ourselves as God's own, this is when Christ proclaims Satan fallen, like a flash of lightning.
Monday morning, every morning. You are sent. No matter where your day sends you, God's promises never change. God has written your name in heaven. This is why we rejoice. Amen.

Introduction

Hello!

In this space will be my sermons for Christ Lutheran in Lancaster, PA. Please visit the church website - http://christlutheranlanc.weebly.com/ . This may also become a space to share news and joys of the congregation, if it is pertinent.

God's peace and blessings+

Vicar Brett