Pentecost 17

September 11, 2016  
Filed under Uncategorized

Pentecost 17
September 11, 2016
Our Savior’s Lutheran, La Crosse
Luke 15:1-10
While studying in preparation for my sermon, I found a story that illustrates the point of our gospel reading:God appeared to a hardworking farmer and granted him three wishes.
There was a condition—the condition being that, whatever God did for  the farmer would be given double to the farmer’s neighbor. (So, if the  farmer asked for a new barn, the neighbor would get two…)
Well, the farmer wished for 100 head of cattle. Immediately, he received  the cattle and he was overjoyed. Then he saw that his neighbor received  200 cattle…
The hardworking farmer wished for a hundred acres of land. He was filled  with joy when he received 100 acres of land, until he saw that his neighbor  received 200 acres…
The hardworking farmer was jealous. He felt a little bit slighted. He didn’t  like what was happening. Rather than celebrating his own good fortune and  his neighbor’s, he was upset.
The hardworking farmer told God his third wish: he wished God would  strike him blind in one eye.
And God wept.  (The New Interpreter’s Bible, Vol. 9, p. 298).
The parables we heard today speak of God’s joy when what has been lost is found. The lost sheep was found. The lost coin was found. Like the shepherd who joyfully carried the found sheep on his shoulders, and like the searching woman who invited her friends in to celebrate because she found the coin she lost—God celebrates when any one of us who has been lost to sin, repents—turning toward God rather than away.
As wonderful as God’s joy is in these parables—
There is more to the story.
The parables are about us, and how we respond to God’s joy. The stories remind us of those times when we, like the Pharisees, have felt jealous, when we have resented the blessings others have received.
The way scripture readings get chopped up for Sunday readings, only reading a set of verses each week, allows us to forget the context of the stories we hear.
In chapter 14 of Luke, the chapter before today’s reading, Jesus was eating with a leader of the Pharisees. He was eating at the table of someone who had power, who had privilege in the world of the Jewish people.
One chapter later we find Jesus at table with outcasts—with tax collectors and sinners. Jesus was with the powerless. Jesus was with those lacking privilege. Jesus was with tax collectors—men most people despised because many of them were cheats. Jesus was with “sinners.” In those days, “sinners” would have been anyone breaking moral laws—living the wrong way, and anyone whose lives did not meet Jewish purity standards. Perhaps a leper, perhaps someone who touched a leper, perhaps a woman menstruating, perhaps a Samaritan who didn’t keep Jewish law…
In our day and age, who do we despise? In our day and age, who lacks privilege? A person recently released from prison? Someone who practices the Muslim faith? A single mother living in poverty who is pregnant? Someone on welfare who smokes?
In our day and age, who do we resent? Is it the LGBTQ community that rallies around a many-colored flag? Is it an African American person who believes Black Lives Matter? Is it a Native American protesting the construction of an oil pipeline in North Dakota?
Someone might think:
How dare Jesus gather with one of these—or should I say, one of “those?” How dare they be the recipients of God’s blessings?
I’m not trying to push any buttons this morning—I’m trying to be true to the gospel story we have at hand, a story that clearly calls us to celebrate with those most unlike us—to celebrate the blessings they receive from God, even when it appears to us like they are getting more attention, more blessing, more joy.
Like the Pharisees, anyone of us might think anyone of them deserves a little less attention, a little less praise, a little less joy. We would be wrong. We would be wrong, according to Jesus, because they are the ones Jesus chose to gather with, to celebrate with, because they—the lost in society—are always sought out by Jesus and found, and celebrated.
A scholar wrote that these parables “expose the roots of bitterness that dig their way into us whenever we feel that God is too good to others and not good enough to us” (IDB, vol. 9, p. 298).
God’s love is good enough for us all. God weeps when God sees us guided by bitterness and not by love. God weeps when God sees us guided by resentment and not by love. God weeps when God sees walls dividing us that we built— not God, because God loves us all.
When we are lost God searches each one of us out, even if what we are lost to is the sin of our own jealousies or dislikes.
God loves us all. God frees us all. And God calls us to love one another.
Amen.

Thinking in “We”

September 4, 2016  
Filed under Sermons

Pentecost 16, 2016
Deuteronomy 30:15-20
Our Savior’s Lutheran, La Crosse

Thinking in “We”

Tuesday I called my brother up on the phone to wish him a happy birthday. It is a tradition between some of us in our family, when we call to say happy birthday we actually sing it to whoever is celebrating their birthday. So, when my brother answered the phone I sang to him.

Thursday, my brother and his daughter called me up to sing happy birthday to me. I was out for dinner with my niece’s family so I let it go to voicemail and listened to them sing later, at home. My parents called, as well. What a blessing to listen to my 82 year old mother and 89 year old father sing to me.

At the end of my brother and niece’s birthday message to me, I heard my niece say, “Now let’s call Diane!”

Diane is my twin sister. She and I shared text messages during the day on Thursday. But I hadn’t talked to her so I called her after listening to my brother and niece. When she answered I began to sing Happy Birthday. I sang “Happy birthday to we…”

When a person is a twin or triplet or quadruplet, the person lives his or her life thinking in “we.” Even after years of separation, marriages, families, jobs, different geographic locations—twins/triplets/quadruplets—there is always a “we” that transcends space and time.

We don’t live in a “we” world, we live in a “me” world.

When we hear someone say “Me, me me…” we know the person is talking about him or herself, not practicing vocals.

Thursday, when I sang “Happy birthday to we…” to my sister we both started to laugh and said at the same time “Wee, wee, wee, all the way home.” We were both thinking of the little pig going home from the market… Both of us, thinking the same thing, although there was over a hundred miles separating us.

We were thinking in “we.”

In the reading Sheila read from Deuteronomy, Moses was giving his farewell address to the Israelites. He had traveled with the Israelites out of slavery. They had wandered through the wilderness for years. In this reading, they had a bird’s eye view of the Promised Land.

Moses knew he wouldn’t be traveling any further with his people. He had a few last words to share, including a choice: Life or death.

You might hear the words of Moses and think the choices he offers the Israelites are choices for each one of them, as individuals. You might think each one of the travelers is being asked to choose life or death, to receive blessings or curses, to experience prosperity or adversity. You might be thinking that because it is the way people think in our world, in this society: people think in “me,” not “We.”

Moses was addressing the community. Moses was addressing the Israelites as a people, not as persons. Moses was saying to his community of faith, to the descendants of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob: you people have a choice. As a community, you have a choice. The Israelites would have known that because they lived as a community of “we,” not “me.” They survived as a community of “We,” not as a bunch of individual “me, me, me-s.”

It is called the Deuteronomic Code.

If the people of Israel, Abraham’s descendants, chose life they would receive blessings. Choosing life meant choosing to love God. Choosing life meant choosing to obey God. Choosing life meant choosing to hold fast to God, to cling to God.

Choosing death was to choose to be disobedient. Choosing death was to choose to be separate from God—to either love other gods or to simply step out of having any love for God, at all. To choose death was to choose to let go of God, creating a distant relationship.

Terence Fretheim, a Lutheran scholar suggests that we need to know that the people of Israel were not looking ahead to a relationship with God they might have if they made the right choice, they were looking at sustaining a life they already had (Deuteronomy 30:15-20, www.workingpreacher.org). The Israelites were living in community with one another and with God. Moses was encouraging them to sustain that relationship, to continue to be obedient to God, to continue to love God, to continue to cling to God.

What does this mean?

The answer is difficult.

I say it is difficult because the answer demands that we, living in the 21st century, take on a way of thinking that is thousands of years old.

I say it is difficult because the answer demands that we “think in we” rather than thinking in me.

Everything in our world tells us to think “me.” I need to think about “me” myself, and I. I need to do what’s best for me. I need to protect my best interests. I need to choose between life and prosperity, or death and adversity.

This reading, read from the proper context, wants us to ignore me and think “we.”

Do we choose life or death? Love or separation? Obedience or disobedience? Relationship or individualism? Do we cling or do we let go?

This isn’t about us as individuals or about us as a congregation, this is about putting ourselves in the context of a congregation that exists in a larger context, a context bigger than who we are in this place, bigger than who we are in our synod, bigger than who we are as Lutherans… this is about who we are as Christians.

It is much easier to think about me, because I have some level of control over my relationship with God.

It is much easier to think about us as a congregation because we have a structure in place for thinking that way.

It is easy to think about ourselves as part of a synod, or as Lutherans, because we have structures and doctrines that guide that kind of thinking.

How do we think as Christian people, as a global Christian family? Knowing all of the differences that exist within Christianity—how do we even begin to think about ourselves as a family? As a huge, global, diverse family?

I look to my own family for ideas. What do we do to sustain who we are: we talk, we get together, we play, we sing…

Those are things we can do in a larger context. If we are choosing life, as Christian people living in community, we are asking God to be with us and to guide us as we talk with others, as we get together with others, as we play with others, as we sing together new songs, singing in “we” rather than me.

Thinking in “we.”

Living in “we.”

Amen.