Sermon: Authority for a New Kingdom

Text: Matthew 21:23-32

Lectionary Year A, Proper 21

If a three-legged stool is more stable, why do most chairs (and tables) have four legs?

Mathematically, a three-legged stool will always sit on a plane and not wobble. No matter how uneven or sloped, the legs will find contact points at the bottom. A four-legged stool or chair, if the legs are perfectly even, can only be without wobbles if the plane it rests on is also perfectly even. A chair with uneven legs will always wobble, unless the surface that it sits on is uneven to match the unevenness in the legs.

But more stable sitting on a plane doesn’t mean more stable when weight is applied unevenly to the surface of the stool or chair. A three-legged stool is more likely to tip over if the weight at the top deviates too far from the center. A four-legged chair is better able to accommodate a non-centered weight on its top surface. And by extrapolation, the more legs, the better it can remain stable with shifting weight, but for practical reasons, four is sufficient.

By the way, a triangle table with three legs can be just as stable as a four-legged, rectangular table. It’s the shape of the top surface in relation to the number of legs that is important.

[https://jborden.com/2017/07/20/a-real-world-example-of-math-concepts-at-work/]

That concludes this morning’s spatial geometry lesson. Now on to some 18^th century theology, specifically the Methodists.

John Wesley developed a framework for doing theology. It has come to be known as the Wesleyan Quadrilateral (here’s the connection with the math lesson). The Quadrilateral consists of Scripture, Tradition, Reason, and Experience.

Scripture is, obviously, the Christian Bible. Wesley saw Scripture as the primary means of determining Christian faith and doctrine.

Tradition includes church teachings and practices through the centuries, but it also includes beliefs and practices of the contemporary church, groups of Christians, and family units. It includes not just one’s own culture and society, but tradition as handed down and practiced globally.

As for Reason, Wesley questioned why God would give humans the ability to reason if they were to simply take Scripture without any additional thinking on it. Logic and disagreements are essential to developing better theology.

For Wesley, Experience was seen as a validator of genuine belief and practices. Experience brings to real life the beliefs appropriated through the other three “legs.”

[https://www.umc.org/en/content/glossary-wesleyan-quadrilateral-the and https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wesleyan_Quadrilateral]

All four legs are vital and play a part in the development and practice of Christian theology. Going back to the geometry illustration earlier, too much reliance on one will cause the thing sitting on it tumble. A four-legged chair can accommodate some unevenness, but not extremes.

Although Wesley himself placed Scripture as the top and experience as more a validator of existing beliefs, he had some different thoughts when it came to his screed against slavery, Thoughts Upon Slavery.

He ignores Tradition, which was completely on the side of slavery.

He appeals little to Scripture, which again, is more easily used to defend slavery.

Instead he relies on Reason and Experience, which now includes the reality of slavery and the treatment of slaves, and his own reaction to it, as primary reasons to argue that Christians must be against slavery. 

[https://medium.com/solus-jesus/as-methodism-unravels-remember-john-wesley-disregarded-his-own-quadrilateral-when-he-changed-his-42f3045a97e6]

In other words, when Scripture and Tradition appeared in conflict with Reason and Experience, Wesley changed his mind. It should be noted also, that early in life, Wesley argued for the legitimacy of slavery based on Scripture. So Wesley does a complete 180 reversal of his former position based primarily on Experience.

In the 19^th century, American Christians grappled with the issue of slavery and both sides argued from Scripture. The plain reading of and the weight of evidence in Scripture is that it supports slavery. The Abolitionists had to turn to creative imagining and re-interpretations of scripture in order to infer that the trajectory of scripture was against slavery.

In more recent times, the role and authority of women in the church has been, and is still being, argued. All sides claim scripture on their side. All sides can point to various historical examples supporting their position.

And all sides use reason and experience to argue their positions.

Whether someone is familiar with the Wesleyan Quadrilateral or not, it is descriptive of how theology is practically accomplished by Christians. Some may say they use only one, or perhaps two, and state that the others are suspect, but the reality is that all four always play a part in practical theology.

The central themes of this morning’s gospel text are authority and repentance. From where or from whom does authority originate? And what separates those who are a part of the kingdom vs. those who are not is repentance.

The gospel text takes place immediately after the prior day’s Triumphal Entry and the Cleansing of the Temple. After the commercial businesses in the temple court are driven out, Jesus allows himself, in that place, to be surrounded by children and all manner of people wanting healing from Jesus. The next morning Jesus while making his way back to the temple, he sees a fig tree, is hungry, doesn’t see any figs, so he curses the tree and it dies.

All these have gotten the attention of the temple authorities, the chief priests and the elders of the people, who, when they find Jesus back at the temple, question him in regards to where he received authority to do what he has been doing. They certainly have not given him authority, so if not them, who?

Jesus responds to the question with a question of his own, a completely acceptable form of continuing the debate. Jesus’ question centers on the authority of John the Baptist to baptize. We modern Christians think of baptism as purely a religious ritual, but at the time of Matthew’s writing, baptism was a ceremonial cleansing that not only Jews practiced, but was found all over the ancient world. It was not merely religious. It signified the removal of uncleanliness and a return to ritual purity which included a return to full social and political inclusion in the community.

The temple authorities, specifically the priests, based on tradition, held the power to confer purity onto another. (C.f., Luke 17:14.) The ritual could involve sacrifices and other offerings, placing ritual purity and full inclusion in community out of reach for many people.

John’s actions to offer baptism and entry into a new society with associated full inclusion was a direct challenge to the religious, social, and political authority of the priests. The only requirement was repentance. Many came to John to be initiated into this new society and social order. The priests and elders came too, but John called them out for their mere profession. John demanded that they show actual fruit of repentance and not merely rely on their tradition, their ancestry to Abraham.

Matthew does not explicitly offer what this fruit might look like, but Luke’s parallel account shows that the fruit is what Jesus would describe in the Sermon on the Mount, his manifesto for the kingdom of heaven, the new society. The motifs found in the final paragraphs of the Sermon (starting about 7:15) are echoed in today’s gospel reading.

In Matthew’s gospel account, both John and Jesus proclaim the same message, “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near.” (Matthew 3:2; 4:17.) What John has started, Jesus completes. Repentance is the way into the kingdom. Jesus welcomes the children, the sick, the tax collectors, and the prostitutes to be a part of his social circle, the beginning of a new kingdom. While Jesus drives out the powerful and privileged from the temple courts, he welcomes these others into his presence. Just as John the Baptist infuriated the authorities, Jesus’ actions does the same.

Jesus goes on to tell the priests and elders a very short parable, which at first glance doesn’t seem to have much to do with the current debate.

A father, two sons, and a vineyard. These are common Jewish motifs. Key here is that the vineyard represents Israel. The father commands both his sons to go tend the vineyard. The first says no, but changes his mind and does what was commanded. The second son respectfully addresses his father and says that he will go; but he does not.

To the Middle Eastern audience, the expected questions would have been, “Which of these sons showed the father honor?” But that is not the question Jesus asked. Instead he asked, “Which of these did the will of the father?” The second son, who was respectful, showed honor. The first son did the will of the father. In an honor-shame society, honor, especially public honor, is often more important than actual actions.

At this point, the audience might be slightly confused. Where is Jesus going with this? Jesus doesn’t mince words in his explanation and condemnation. Addressing them (the priests and elders) he bluntly states that the tax collectors and prostitutes will enter the kingdom of God ahead of them because they believed John and did what he commanded – and by inference and extension, believing Jesus and doing what Jesus commands – but they did not and to this point have neither believed Jesus yet.

The first son realized his position and words were wrong, changed his mind – repented – and did the work that his father commanded. The tax collectors and prostitutes realized what they had been doing was wrong, changed their minds – repented – and began to live out the principles of the new society.

The chief priests and the elders, even though they could see the lives changed, they could not accept that John’s and Jesus’ teachings were more in line with God’s will than what they wanted to believe from their traditions and interpretations of scripture.

Jesus took the scriptures seriously. But that also meant hugely creative re-imaginings and re-interpretations that often went against accepted tradition. The apostles and the early church too, had to re-imagine and re-interpret scripture numerous times to expand the vision of inclusion and egalitarianism taught and demonstrated by Jesus.

John Wesley had to change his mind – repent – about what he thought scripture and tradition taught about slavery.

Practical theology needs scripture, tradition, reason, and experience. As new challenges face the church, as the metaphorical terrain changes, the legs will need to be adjusted and readjusted. Sometimes the emphasis might be on one or two legs. It doesn’t mean the other are ignored, but it might mean re-evaluating what has always been accepted. It might mean upsetting the status quo. Minds might need to be changed. Repentance may be necessary.

Our mission is to keep the gospel, the kingdom manifesto, the principles of the Sermon on the Mount moving ever forward to more and more people in the world. The terrain is always changing and it is almost never even. How shall we balance the use of Scripture, Tradition, Reason, and Experience to offer a steady kingdom to an unsteady world? Are we open to changing our minds – repentance – even of long-held traditions and beliefs if they are found to be insufficient or even wrong?

Are our minds willing to be changed, to repent, for the sake of the gospel?

Sermon: Justice Isn’t Fair

Text: Matthew 20:1-16

Lectionary Year A, Proper 20 

“That’s not fair!”  

Anyone who has spent any time around young children has probably heard that phrase leveled against the child’s playmates. And any parent who has had a teen has probably been on the receiving end of that very same phrase about something that the parent has done. 

 

That is also the same thing that the group of workers hired first in the day level against the landowner — the master — at the end of the day when they discover that their wages are exactly the same as those who worked less than they did, some considerably less. 

 

And if we are truly honest with ourselves, we too, find the actions of the master questionable in how he distributes the wages equally without regard to time worked and it would be reasonable to assume, effort made. This is a parable that offends our sensibilities and norms. Our sense and understandings of what is fair is violated. 

 

An easy “out” in interpreting this parable can take the form of limiting it to just the spiritual realm and turning it into an allegory of the Christian walk. In this interpretation, the wages given are grace and salvation. It is something given by God at the end of the age, when Jesus returns, when those who die in Christ receive their rewards. No matter how long or short their Christian life might have been on earth, or how easy or difficult their life may have been, the same grace and salvation is given to all. It still doesn’t seem entirely fair — think a deathbed conversion of someone who lived their life indulging their desires — but it somehow feels easier to accept this interpretation.

 

The immediate literary context where this parable is located might seem to support this spiritual interpretation. Matthew chapter 19 includes the story of the Rich Young Man who asked what he had to do to earn eternal life. Jesus’ response was that he must sell everything, give the proceeds to the poor, and follow Jesus. The Rich Man could not, Jesus told the parable of the camel and the eye of a needle, and the disciples were flabbergasted that anyone could be saved. 

 

Then Peter — who else? — declared that they, the disciples, had left everything to follow Jesus, so he asks what would be their reward? Jesus replies that they will receive authority, a return far greater than they had given up, and eternal life. 

 

Today’s parable follows immediately after this. 

 

But in the greater context of the entire gospel account by Matthew, I believe that there is more to the context than just a distant-future reward. 

 

Let’s take a look back at the Lord’s Prayer in chapter 6. We recite this every week, so I’m sure it is quite familiar. 

 

However, a number of New Testament scholars have suggested that the phrase “on earth as it is in heaven” found at the end of the third clause is in fact, implied at the end of each of the first three clauses. So the first part of the Lord’s Prayer should read, “Our Father in heaven, hallowed be your name on earth as it is in heaven. Your kingdom come, on earth as it is in heaven. Your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.”

The Lord’s Prayer talks about the kingdom of heaven as not something in the far distant future, or an entirely separate realm, but something that is breaking into and being established on the earth, during Jesus’ time, during the apostles’ time, and in our time. 

 

Thus, when we read a parable that begins, “For the kingdom of heaven is like a landowner who…,” we should read it not as a parable that is pointing only to a future eschaton, but talking about the here and now also. 

 

And that makes this parable difficult and uncomfortable. Because we read it and can’t see how the behavior of the master could work for any length of time in actual society. 

 

There are many themes that are found in this parable, but the one I’d like to bring out today is this: justice isn’t fair. Now, in colloquial, modern vernacular, justice and fairness are often interchangeable. But when Matthew talks about justice, especially God’s justice, it is quite different from fairness. It should also be noted that the concept of justice found in the gospel is closely related to, and could be considered synonymous with, righteousness. In other words, justice and righteousness is about doing as God would do, particularly in regards to the oppressed, the marginalized, the forgotten, and the powerless.

 

The master of the vineyard in the parable probably had regular employees, but perhaps this was harvest time and he needed extra workers. Day laborers who had no regular employment would come to the common, public area of their town or city, early in the morning and hope that they would be selected to work for the day. The master goes out and find some. He spells out the day’s wage and the first set of workers agree that this is a fair wage.

 

What is unexpected is that the master goes out multiple times after the early morning, to look for additional workers. Did he suddenly discover that there was more work than the hired hands could handle? Commentators suggest this is unlikely. It was rather, compassion, that led him back out. He knew that he didn’t hire all of them on the first round and so he goes out to see if they had all been hired by other employers, as would be expected. But he sees that there are still many workers waiting to be hired. The master does not need more hired hands, but he hires them anyway. He goes out three more times, and for these groups he promises that they will be paid what is “just.” 

 

The master goes out for the fifth time, late in the day, already evening, with just an hour left for any work to be done outside. He finds that there are still some waiting. Some have suggested that these were workers, who, perhaps being lazy, came later in the day. Certain English translation options might reinforce this idea. But commentators from cultures where day laborers are common protest that this would never be the case. All the workers have been there since early morning, waiting to be hired. 

 

The master, again out of compassion, hires them. He does not promise this group any pay, but they agree to work. The master could have just given them the wage he would have given anyway, but he doesn’t. Rather, he offers them the dignity of work, if even for just an hour, so that they can honorably return home to their families and report that they had worked. 

 

At the end of the day, in another surprising turn of events, the manager of the vineyard comes out to pay each of the hired hands. If the owner had a manager, why did he not simply send the manager to hire the day laborers? Because the master wanted to be directly involved with his hired labor, and as a result was moved by compassion to go out and hire more workers than there was work. 

In yet another surprising turn of events, the master directs the manager to begin paying the hired hands with the last ones hired and the first ones, last. He could have made everything easier and avoided conflict by paying in the expected, chronological order. But he does not. He wants those hired earlier to see what he does. Then he directs the manager to pay the last group hired “the wage,” meaning a full day’s pay. 

 

As each group gets the same pay, the ones in the first group get frustrated and then angry. They had worked all day, in the heat, and yet they get the same wage as the ones who only “worked” one hour? They are not just complaining. They are accusing the master of making the last group equal to the first. The master has treated all the groups identically, and it isn’t fair! 

 

It is important to note that no one in this parable is underpaid. And all were up early to seek employment. Even the first group, with all the complaints, was paid a fair wage. The master reminds them that they had agreed to this pay, up-front. They have no grounds for complaint. The master dismisses them and wants nothing more to do with them. 

 

Each of the other groups was paid what was “just.” And in the case of this landowner, to be “just” meant providing all his workers a wage that they could live on for the next day. We are reminded of the Lord’s Prayer where it reads, “Give us this day our daily bread.”

 

Some scholars suggest that “on earth as it is in heaven” continue to be extended to the three petitions at the end of the Prayer. So we could read, “Give us this day our daily bread, on earth as it is in heaven.” 

 

For some of us, this is our prayer. We do need our daily bread provided. But for some others of us, we are in positions to help answer this petition. What do we do about this parable and the ethical, and even potential economic issues it raises? 

 

Like most of Jesus’ parables, no clear answers are given. I think that we often do disservice to Jesus’ parables by turning them into allegories and giving them pat answers. I think that parables are meant to raise difficult questions and lead us into discomfort. So in that spirit I leave you with questions:

 

·       Is the parable too unrealistic in its ethical demands for justice from followers of Jesus? Especially if it means some kind of literal applications of what the master has done?

·       If we are employers or otherwise able to provide for others, what does a “justice” — meaning justice as God defines it — look like for those that we support?

·       For those of us who are wage earners: if we see a colleague receiving what we think is “more than fair,” does this parable challenge our assumptions and how we might work through the sense of unfairness? (As long as you aren’t being underpaid?)

·       If we, as followers of Christ, are to be implementing the new society, the kingdom of heaven, here on earth as it is in heaven, how do we implement the ethics of justice that this parable seems to demand of us?

 

Let us sit with these questions and wrestle with them. Let us see how God wants us to live out the counterintuitive principle that God’s justice is generous, but it is not fair. 

Sermon: “Ghost!” to “Son of God”

Lectionary: Year B, Proper 14

Text: Matthew 14:22-33, (34-36) (Extended the supplied reading to include the epilogue.)

I’m sure most of us have been told at some point that public speaking is most people’s top, or close to the top, fear. There is an actual survey done by Chapman University[1], and in their fifth survey done in 2018, public speaking was not even in the top 50. It ranked number 59. Fear of one’s own death only made it to number 54.

The fears at the top of the list are things that are concerned with government, politics, the environment, the economy, and those things that we tend to encounter more readily and frequently. As a point of interest, pandemic was number 32 down the list two years ago. (I’m curious where that item would land today.)

And, in case you were wondering, the disciples’ fear of ghosts is only number 88 in the 21^st century. This fear might have placed a higher in the first [century]. 

These are turbulent times, indeed, in nearly every aspect of life. There are plenty of potential sources vying for our fears, and it might be easy to let fears overwhelm us. Some might say we shouldn’t fear at all, but fear is an important emotion that alerts us to genuine harm and danger, and we can respond to such fears by taking appropriate actions and precautions. 

Perhaps one of the problems is that when we are bombarded by almost innumerable negative stimuli and stressors, it becomes difficult to sort out and distinguish those things that we ought to respond to appropriately vs. those things that we should not pay attention to. One response might be overreaction in which we try to respond to everything. Another response might be to becomes so anesthetized that we ignore everything, even genuinely harmful ones. 

Jesus had just recently heard the devastating report about the gruesome murder of his cousin, John the Baptist. When Jesus tried to get some time to himself, he was bombarded with a huge crowd that took all of his efforts for the entire day. At the end of the day his disciples presented him with another problem which Jesus had to again take the initiative to provide a solution. 

We have to remind ourselves that Jesus is fully a human being here. He is not operating from his divine essence. Jesus gets tired, he experiences stress, he has enough of being around other people, he has griefs, he feels frustration and anger, and he feels fear. I think that sometimes Christians portray Jesus’ perfection in such a way that these very human emotions get erased. It is good to be reminded that Jesus experienced and struggled with the same emotions that every human being does. 

Jesus sends the disciples away on their boat and he dismisses the crowds. He goes up the mountain to have some time for himself — to spend time in prayer and recharge and restore himself through God. He spends the entire night in prayer. 

An important point for us as we live in our time is to find time to recharge and restore ourselves. Prayer doesn’t look the same for every person. For some it may be literally sitting in prayer. For others it might be meditation outdoors, bathing in the wonders of God’s creation. Others might find things like journaling and writing helpful. How did God wire you to connect back to God? 

Early in the morning, Jesus senses that his disciples are in trouble and goes out to meet them. In the midst of storm and turbulence, with wind blowing and waves crashing, Jesus walks out to them on the water, to approach the disciples in their boat. Metaphorically, Jesus might represent those who have such unequivocal trust in God that they are a picture of solid calm whatever might be outside. They are able to find solid footing, even on what to everyone else is tempestuous water. The ideal picture for which we strive. 

What appears calm and certain, Jesus on the water, is anything but, to the disciples. When they see Jesus, the only explanation they come up with is that it is a ghost. We shouldn’t be too hard on them, since I doubt any of us would have responded too differently if we saw a figure approaching us in the middle of the sea. 

We expect Jesus in certain places and to show up at certain times. A lesson here could be that we might overlook Jesus or misidentify God’s presence in the world because it doesn’t look like what we expect, or they are in places where we don’t expect God’s presence to be found.

Jesus immediately announces his identity to his disciples and assures them that there is no reason for fear. It should be noted that Jesus’ identification of himself, “It is I”, is the “I AM” that Yahweh used to identify himself in Hebrew history. The image of a being walking on water is associated with God and the divine in the Hebrew Scriptures. Perhaps the disciples’ exclamation that what they saw was a ghost was preferable, at least to them, than the alternative, that it was God approaching them. Which could also explain why Jesus was so quick to identify himself and to calm their fears. This was Jesus whom they had been in the company of for quite some time now — someone they should know. Yet very different. 

What I see as one of the key themes in today’s reading is the disciples making a dramatic change in the identification of Jesus: from “It’s a ghost” to “Truly, you are the Son of God.” It should be noted that even though walking on water was dramatic and miraculous, that in itself was not what convinced them. After all, walking on the water made them initially think that Jesus was a ghost. 

What was it then, that caused such a marked shift? 

I believe the answer is found in Peter’s response to this “problem of Jesus.” The problem is that Jesus is familiar to the disciples, yet his present appearance is quite foreign. What are they to make of it? Are the two really the same?

Peter takes the initiative to verify that the being out on the water is really Jesus. Peter’s faith is not in his next act of stepping out of the boat, but in the very asking that he be invited to step out of the boat. Peter trusts that if Jesus commands it, Peter will be able to accomplish it. Jesus commands, and Peter steps out. At least for a short time, Peter’s trust in Jesus overcomes all doubt and fear. 

But as is often the case, initial success is met with strong winds and frightening waves. Yes, Jesus called Peter out of the boat, but is Jesus enough to keep Peter above the water? Notice that the wind and waves do not calm when Peters steps out of the boat and onto the water. Faith falters, doubt creeps in and Peter suddenly starts to sink. 

Peter calls out again, “Lord!” But this time it is not to step out in faith, but to be saved from certain drowning. 

Immediately (that’s a word repeated in this short section describing Jesus’ actions) Jesus appears next to Peter and lifts him up and holds him steady. Together they walk back to and into the boat. The winds cease when they enter the boat. 

It is at this moment that the disciples together identify Jesus as “Son of God.” Throughout Hebrew history, Yahweh has acted to save his people, the Israelites. The center of today’s gospel reading is the saving of Peter. The name Jesus is the Greek rendering of Joshua, meaning Yahweh is salvation. In the saving of Peter, Jesus is acting literally according to his name. Peter asks for salvation, and Jesus responds. 

If it were wonders and miracles that could convince the disciples that Jesus was the Son of God, it surely could have happened before this. If mastery over nature was a sign of divinity, Jesus had already calmed the seas once before [Matthew 8]. 

Up to this point, only Satan and demons had identified Jesus as “Son of God.” But now the disciples have finally seem to have understood, although they still don’t know what that really means. 

This story and the Feeding of the Five Thousand story from last week form a pair. The pair of stories begins with a crowd and healing, and the pair ends with an epilogue that is about a different crowd and some more healing. 

Perhaps I might be reading too much into some of the words used here, but I find it interesting that this latter crowd is said to “recognize” Jesus. The first crowd merely heard that Jesus had gone to a different place and followed. But the crowd at Gennesaret “recognize” Jesus. The healing of the first crowd is just a curing (Gk., related to our word ‘therapy’) of their illnesses. But when the crowd in Gennesaret are healed, the Greek word used here signifies restoration and salvation [sozos]. Where the first crowd merely experienced some physical cures, the crowd at Gennesaret experiences a restoration to wholeness. Perhaps these choices of words are Matthew’s way of showing how much more Jesus is able to offer when we see him as Son of God. 

We should not dismiss the positives that the world has gained from seeing Jesus as a great teacher, a moral and ethical example, a great prophet, and perhaps someone who worked wonders and miracles. But a restoration to wholeness can only come when Jesus goes beyond all that and is recognized as the Son of God, the savior of all humankind and the world. 

To know that Jesus is our savior is the antidote to fears that this life throws at us. Jesus beckons and calls us into the storm, the turbulence, and the crashing waves. That is where ministry happens – in the storms of life. That’s where Jesus is. He knows that our faith will falter and we will begin to sink. But he also promises that he will save us. 

It was just one disciple, Peter, whose faith allowed him to ask Jesus to command him to walk out into the storm. It was Peter’s actions and subsequent saving by Jesus that gave the remaining disciples insight into Jesus and their correct identification of who Jesus was. 

Was Jesus’ words to Peter, “You of little faith; why did you doubt?”, a reprimand as it frequently is interpreted? Or was it an encouragement? “You had enough faith to step out of the boat. Why did you doubt that you could continue? The faith you had to step out was enough to take you through.” 

All it takes is one person with a mustard seed sized faith to step out of the safety of the boat and into the wild uncertainties and storms of life. This one person and one act can inspire others to follow. 

When we are following Jesus to the places where he is asking us to work, we need have no fear of failure, because even if our faith falters, he will be faithful to lift and steady us, bring us back to where we can regroup and recover, and then follow him out again into the storms of this world.

---

[1] https://www.chapman.edu/wilkinson/research-centers/babbie-center/_files/fear-2018/americas-top-fears-2018-ranked.pdf

Sermon: You Give Them Something to Eat

Feeding the Five Thousand

Lectionary Year A, Proper 13

 

Matthew 14:13-23 (extending the traditional grouping of texts, because I think verses 22 and 23 are part if the inclusiothat properly closes the preceding section. It does also introduce the next passage.)

Sermon

Our gospel text begins with “When Jesus heard about John…” What was it that Jesus heard? In the section of text immediately before today’s reading, Jesus was given the grim news that his cousin, John the Baptist, had been murdered on the orders of Herod Antipas in order satisfy the wants of his wife, who hated John. This took place at a lavish and sordid banquet entertaining the wealthy and influential in the region of Galilee. Although Herod did not want to kill John, he also did not want to appear as going back on his word, so reluctantly gave the order. 

 

Who here has not experienced loss? For some of us, it may be quite recent where we’ve lost a dear friend or family member. For some others it may be a loss of something that used to define us: perhaps a job or other livelihood. And for pretty much all of us in 2020, we’ve lost a sense of what used to be. Even though these are different types of losses, our bodies and minds process them in the same way. We go through the same process of grief and grieving. 

 

Jesus gathers himself away from the crowds to try to be alone, to process this devastating news and, in modern parlance, do some self-care work. Jesus needs some time to work through his grief, his anger, and undoubtedly some fear at what awaits him should he continue with his divine mission. 

 

The text does not say if he got any time alone, but reading the text it seems as if as soon as the crowd learned that Jesus was crossing over on a boat, they hurriedly began their trek on foot. By the time Jesus arrives at his intended destination, the crowd is already there to greet him and press him with their needs.

 

It certainly would have been reasonable for Jesus to ask the crowd to wait a while, but Jesus instead is moved immediately by compassion and begins to heal (Gk., cure) the sick that are brought to him. A commentary I read noted that the text did not say that Jesus taught or preached, or gave the people systematic theology, but that he simply healed those who needed healing.

 

Perhaps a lesson here for us is to ask ourselves why we are Christ-followers in the first place? What motivates us to do what we do? Are we more inclined to disseminate knowledge, and perhaps to argue about beliefs? Or is our first response to relieve the needs that come to our attention? Do we do so out of compassion, or for some benefit that might accrue to us? 

 

The story continues. It appears Jesus spends the entire day ministering to the sick. As evening falls, the disciples clearly note another need: that everyone needs food. Their solution is to send the crowd away. It seems like a reasonable solution. Jesus has been working all day, and the disciples alongside. They are tired and the disciples know that Jesus hasn’t had the time alone that initially prompted this journey. Perhaps there’s a little bit of concern for Jesus mixed with the disciples’ own feelings of tiredness and exhaustion that prompts them to ask Jesus to send the crowd away. 

 

Jesus’ response catches them, and us, off guard: “There’s no need to send them away. You give them something to eat.”

 

Jesus is asking a group about the size that is assembled here to provide food for a crowd size that is larger than the entire Petersburg population! Just the numbered men approaches double our population. 

 

We would be taken aback and shocked if Jesus were here telling us to meet the needs of all of Petersburg and then some. Yet I would dare say that he is asking exactly that of us and of every one of his churches in this town today. 

 

The disciples’ response is probably given in stunned shock, “We only have five loaves of bread and two fish…” 

 

“This is all we have…” is the voiced part. The unspoken portion is, “And what do you expect us to do with this? Do you really expect us to feed the entire crowd with this?” 

 

We too, hear Jesus’ command for us to meet the needs of the people around us. But we too, are tired and our resources so meager. How in the world could Jesus even think that we could meet the needs of everyone around us? Maybe we could meet the needs of a handful of families here and there… 

 

Jesus commands his disciples to bring what they have to him.

 

In motions that foreshadow the Eucharist, the Communion Supper, Jesus has the crowd sit down and he raises the bread and the fish and offers a blessing to God. He then breaks the loaves and fish and hands them to the disciples. 

 

When we think about this story, the feeding of the five-thousand, I think we often imagine it as Jesus feeding the crowd miraculously. But the text doesn’t say that. It says that it was the disciples who took the bread and fish and it was they who distributed the food to the entire seated crowd. The text also does not specify how it was that everyone was given food. The “how” is unimportant to the story. Only the “what” matters in that everyone’s need was met. 

 

For those that are into geeking out with literary structures in the Bible, in this story the center is not the miraculous feeding, but it is where Jesus asks the disciples to provide food: where the disciples declare what they have, and where Jesus takes what is given to him by the disciples. This is the center of the story and where the primary theme is most likely to be found. (Next week’s gospel reading which immediately follows today’s also follows a similar structure. And to geek out even more, there are thematic and literary parallels between this story and next week’s.)

 

We’ll return to what I see as the primary theme, but first, let’s finish the story.

 

When everyone was given food and all had their fill, there were twelve large baskets of remainders. We aren’t told what happened with these. What is important about this is that what had seemed utterly insufficient had turned into something more than just merely sufficient. 

 

Now Jesus makes the disciples go back into their boat and go away while he dismisses the crowd. When the disciples wanted to have Jesus dismiss the crowd, Jesus said, “Not now.” But now that his work is done and the crowd’s needs are met, it is time for the crowd to be dismissed. 

 

Another lesson from this story for us may be that God will bring to our attention the needs around us. And it will be God who takes them away when the time is right. Our call is to meet the needs as long as they are in our midst. 

 

Finally Jesus gets the time to himself that he needs and longs for. But he does not merely relax, but he spends time in prayer, with God. Or perhaps that is Jesus’ way of de-stressing and restoring emotional balance: by entering into the presence of God. 

 

Now back to the center of the story and what I think is the key take away: 

·       We don’t do ministry on our own terms. Just as Jesus said to his disciples, “There’s no need to send them away,” God might bring needs to our attention that we frankly might not want to address or can’t imagine how we might. 

·       We are expected to be Christ’s hands and feet. Just as Jesus commanded his disciples, “You give them something to eat,” God asks us to be responsible for meeting the needs that are brought to us. Jesus did not directly feed each person in the crowd. He asked his disciples to do that, and the same is being asked of us.

·       We have resources. It may not be much — just a few bread and fish — but every follower of Christ, every congregation, the collaboration of churches, and the worldwide Church has resources. What resources do we have, however small and meager they might be, that could be used to meet the needs that we see? 

·       We must contribute what we have to God. Jesus asked his disciples to hand what they had to him. The disciples had no idea what was going to happen. In biblical hindsight we know what Jesus did and how the story ends, but the disciples didn’t have that benefit. They had never experienced a mass feeding from so little. So it would have been completely understandable if they had refused or expressed more reluctance. The most obvious use of the food was perhaps for Jesus himself to eat, or that it would be given to a few people with the most need. Likewise, we don’t know how God will use the resources that are contributed. Are we willing to contribute what we have, not always knowing exactly how they might be used? 

 

Ultimately, this story is about faith. For the most part the disciples don’t have a great degree of faith, but they trust Jesus enough to give to him all the provisions they had amongst themselves. And that faith might just be the greater miracle in the story. 

 

Later in Matthew’s gospel Jesus says, “I assure you that if you have faith the size of a mustard seed, you could say to this mountain, ‘Go from here to there,’ and it will go. There will be nothing that you can’t do.” [Matthew 17:20b]

 

The disciples are frequently portrayed as lacking faith and are chastised for it. But at the same time, they have a tiny bit — just enough for God to work with them. And in that respect, I don’t think we are that much different from them. We waver between faith and doubt. We look at the world around us and our own lives. We see the mess that we make and we see messes that others make. We see and experience the random tragedies and disasters that pummel us. It might be easy to get discouraged and lose hope. We get tired. 

 

Jesus’ command to us remains the same. Come together in solidarity, with compassion; and in faith, contribute what you do have to God, and God will return to you what you need to be effective ministers in this community. 

Matthew 14:13-23Matthew 14:13-23Matthew 14:13-23

Sermon: Insults, Anger, Murder

Lectionary: Year A, Sixth Sunday After Epiphany

Text: Matthew 5:21-24 (partial lection)

Anyone here want to admit to murdering someone? Likely not. Murder is a crime and generally frowned upon, socially.

How about anger toward someone? Or saying something insulting about someone? Or making derogatory comments about someone? There aren’t any specific laws against these things to make them crimes, and in some cases, they are socially acceptable and possibly even encouraged.

I’m nearly certain I’ve never murdered anyone. But I’m far more certain that I’ve been angry with someone, insulted someone, and called someone a fool.

In today’s media and social media saturated world, it is tempting and even encouraged to score points with “my team” by making comments and posting memes and such that puts down “the other team.”

While the world of the Bible is far distant from ours, perhaps the admonitions and life principles contained within it aren’t so foreign to today’s issues.

We need to back up and review the paragraph immediately preceding today’s Gospel Reading. It offers the context and an introduction to today’s reading.

Matthew 5:17-20 reads:

17 “Do not think that I have come to abolish the law or the prophets; I have come not to abolish but to fulfill. 18 For truly I tell you, until heaven and earth pass away, not one letter, not one stroke of a letter, will pass from the law until all is accomplished. 19 Therefore, whoever breaks one of the least of these commandments, and teaches others to do the same, will be called least in the kingdom of heaven; but whoever does them and teaches them will be called great in the kingdom of heaven. 20 For I tell you, unless your righteousness exceeds that of the scribes and Pharisees, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.

The remainder of the Sermon on the Mount, including today’s reading, gives examples of what it means to fulfill the law and the prophets and what true righteousness looks like.

In the Sermon on the Mount, Matthew pictures Jesus as the new Moses, the new Lawgiver. In some Christian interpretations, this has been taken to mean that Law of Moses and the Old Covenant has been superseded by Jesus. The technical theological term for this is supersessionism. But that is not at all what Matthew and Jesus is describing. What Jesus is doing here is going beyond mere surface and very literal applications of the law. Jesus is digging into the deeper meaning and underlying intent of the laws.

In the historical setting of first century Judaism, Jesus’ words are in line with the tradition of rabbis that came before and were contemporary with him. The Jewish practice of doing theology was to take their writings and traditions and debate what they meant and how it might apply to new circumstances that they were facing. The original sayings were considered “fixed” — “I have come not to abolish… not one letter, not one stroke of a letter, will pass from the law…” (Jesus) — but the interpretation and application could change and mold to fit new needs. This might be an area where Christians could have something to learn from our faith cousins, to recover the kind of interpretive practices that Jesus himself used. We as Christians have a fixed canon but we also have tended to fix our interpretations and applications in stone, and perhaps it might be good for us to be more flexible in recognizing that how we interpret and apply should be open to change.

Returning to today’s reading we find four examples of hot issues that were being debated within Judaism. (There are in fact two more that follow today’s reading, for a total of six in this section of the Sermon on the Mount.) Each of them could be en entire sermon (or more). I’ve chosen to focus today on just the first one that speaks to the issue of anger.

The first thing to note is that Jesus likens anger to murder. Reading from verses 21-22 again,

… ‘whoever murders shall be liable to judgment.’ 22 But I say to you that if you are angry with a brother or sister, you will be liable to judgment; and if you insult a brother or sister, you will be liable to the council; and if you say, ‘You fool,’ you will be liable to the hell of fire.

We see a repeating pattern:

An offense that is ‘liable’ to potentially punitive action

·        Murder -> judgment

·        Angry with someone -> judgment

·        Insulting someone -> taken before the council

·        Calling someone a ‘fool’ -> hell of fire

Notice that murder and anger are liable to incur identical responses. Notice also the increasing severity of action from anger, to insult, to calling someone a ‘fool’. Judgment is likely something that is handed down by a local authority, of a town, for instance. The council is most likely understood in this passage to be the Sanhedrin, the ruling council of the Jews located in Jerusalem. And the hell of fire is more literally “the fire of Gehenna”, the place outside of Jerusalem where rubbish was disposed and burned until they were no more. So, the progression could also be seen as local judgment, to national judgment, and finally to a place where things were left for dead, no longer fit to be among the community of the living.

We might expect the murderer to be in the last, most severe place, but in this passage, Jesus places them in the least severe position.  This begs the question, “Why?”

Perhaps it is because murder is obvious. When someone is killed, there is no getting around the fact that a life has been taken and relationships destroyed. And anger is somewhat similar. Anger tends to be obvious, and it too, destroys relationships.

But insults and name-calling are far more socially acceptable and can be simply excused as, “I was just joking,” “They/You took it the wrong way,” “Everyone thinks and says it,” or, “They deserved it.” Perhaps insults and name-calling are far more insidious, and they can continue for far longer than might murder or anger.

Or looking at the sequence from a different perspective, perhaps name-calling and insults are considered worse than anger and murder because what appears more severe and violent are symptoms of attitudes that begin with what seems more harmless — mere words. Perhaps what Jesus is pointing out is that attitudes toward and how we perceive our fellow human beings is far more of an issue than the action that eventually derive from them. One of the commentaries I used offers this observation, “While verbal abuse is certainly less violent than murder, Jesus teaches that such language dehumanizes other persons, making it easier to mistreat them.” (Feasting on the Gospels, Matthew, Volume 1)

The next couple of verses read,

23 So when you are offering your gift at the altar, if you remember that your brother or sister has something against you, 24 leave your gift there before the altar and go; first be reconciled to your brother or sister, and then come and offer your gift.

Notice that the subject/object (grammar-wise) relationship has suddenly shifted 180-degrees. It is no longer the one harboring anger and malice that is being addressed, but rather the one who realizes that someone is holding a grudge against them.

Jesus points out something here that goes against most of our natures. Most of us, when we are wronged, we believe that it is the person who wronged us that must take the first step to make things right. And some (many?) of us might even relish the feeling of superiority that we have as we wait for that person that wronged us to come to us to apologize and beg for our forgiveness. But that isn’t Jesus’ way. According to Jesus, whichever party first realizes that something is wrong is responsible for taking the first step toward making things right.

Which gets to the definition of ‘righteousness’ as used in the Sermon on the Mount and what Jesus meant when he said, “For I tell you, unless your righteousness exceeds that of the scribes and Pharisees, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.”

Western Christianity, particularly in the last century or so, has defined righteousness as mostly an individual concern, having to do primarily with morals and piety. But when we go back to what Jesus’ hearers and Matthew’s readers would have read, righteousness would have mean right-relationships. And that is impossible to do on one’s own. The same commentary writes about it this way:

This kind of righteousness is impossible for those who are focused merely on their own standing before God or their personal sense of merit in comparison to other people. There is no way to achieve this righteousness as an individual in isolation from others, for the very attempt to establish one’s own (self-) righteousness leads inevitably to the alienation, divisiveness, and even violence that Jesus ascribes to those who oppose his way. This is as hard a lesson for modern Christians to learn as it was for the scribes and Pharisees in Jesus’ audience. (Feasting on the Gospels, Matthew, Volume 1)

This issue of anger and dehumanizing attitudes toward another is such a serious issue for Jesus that he said that if we realize our human relationships are not right, we should stop worship and make things right first. Is that to be taken literally or metaphorically? How many of us would get up and leave this moment? If I were to be honest, I’d suspend the sermon right now and go out to make sure things were right with everyone I thought I might have something against or with those I thought might have something against me. So maybe Jesus was using a bit of hyperbole, but perhaps not entirely. The same commentary says regarding this part of the text:

The priority here is clear: right relationship with God is predicated upon having a right relationship with your neighbor(s). Jesus’ teaching challenges not only the scribes and Pharisees of his day, but religious people, even Christians today, who focus exclusively on their personal relationship with God to the neglect of others, as if we could have a relationship with God apart from our relationship with our neighbors. Here Jesus teaches us that the relationship with one (God) is predicated upon the relationship with the other (neighbor). (Feasting on the Gospels, Matthew, Volume 1)

The world generally doesn’t care if professing Christians have correct doctrines and beliefs, or if they are pious in religious observance. But they are watching us and how we treat other people. They are watching what kind of attitudes we have toward others. They are watching to see if we are as gracious, compassionate, and forgiving as we say Jesus is. Do our words match our attitudes and actions – especially towards the kinds of people with whom Jesus kept company? With those whom the religious and powerful of Jesus’ time, and the religious and powerful of our time, regard as sinners and unworthy?

When we accept into our midst those whom the world has rejected, and those whom the morally self-righteous have condemned, our righteousness rises to what is expected by Jesus from his community of disciples. Our worship then becomes a truly communal expression acceptable to God, rather than a mere individual show of piety.

It is my prayer and hope that we, myself included, become the kind of faith community that exemplifies the love, grace, compassion, and forgiveness that Jesus has offered to us; a faith community that prioritizes being in right-relationships with one another.

Sermon: Do Not Be Terrified

Gospel Text: Luke 21:5-19

Lectionary: Year C, Proper 28

Weather forecasts, financial market forecasts, interest rate direction forecasts, political polls, sports result predictions: these are a few of the many ways that we try to bring a little certainty into an uncertain world. We might have some vested interest in certain outcomes. Some predictions have better success than others. Some types of things we are interested in predicting are trivial while others have more far-reaching life consequences. 

Our brains are wired to favor certainty. Uncertainties and ambiguities demand more mental energy, and we can only handle so much of that before our psyches are exhausted. When we experience or hear things that unsettle us, our natural inclination is to find the least costly way to resolve the discomfort and return us to a place of certainty and security. 

For Jesus’ disciples, their Temple was heart of their religious, social, and political lives. It was the place where they came to meet and worship God. It was the basis for many or perhaps all of the traditions and rituals governing their social interactions. And it was a symbol of their national identity and unity, even if they were in reality, subjects of Rome. 

When Jesus seemingly off-handedly mentions that the Temple will be utterly destroyed, it is a shock to their understanding of their world. It introduces a threat and uncertainty in their entire view of life that they need resolved. 

Two-thousand years later, from our perspective, it might seem that the destruction of the Temple shouldn’t elicit such a strong emotional response. There really isn’t an equivalent that we might readily identify with. But perhaps suggesting that America and the American way of life will be utterly destroyed by a foreign power, and that all of us will be exiled away, might be a close analogy. If that doesn’t seem like the end of the world, is there anything else that would? Or for some others, being told that their family will be torn away from them, never to be seen again might elicit a similar kind of response. 

Note too, how Luke begins this passage:

21:5 When some were speaking about the temple, how it was adorned with beautiful stones and gifts dedicated to God…

This was not just another building. It was a sacred treasure, dedicated to God. For the Temple to be destroyed as Jesus said would seem to imply a complete abandonment by God.

I think it is with a deep sense of terror and panic that the disciples ask Jesus when this will happen and what signs they should expect leading up to this cataclysmic event. After all, this is Jesus who just spoke of the destruction, and they know he is no ordinary man. He is at least a prophet of God, if not something more. 

It is curious that what Jesus says next seemingly has nothing to do with what his disciples asked. Jesus doesn’t say anything about the when or what, but goes and offers a warning about those who claim to speak in Jesus’ name and claim to have inside knowledge about what is about to happen.

Modern neuroscience has shown that when our brains are affected by fear and threat and when there is a strong emotional reaction, it wants to act instinctively to protect the person. Higher-order thinking and discernment take longer to process, going through a longer path, and it takes effort to suppress the initial, instinctive reactions. And so reasoned decisions takes a back seat to instinctive responses. The brain wants to return as quickly as possible to a safe and comfortable place, and if an easy, inexpensive path is offered, the tendency is to take it. Even if it means the path leads to longer term problems. Even if in hindsight it is a bad choice. Even if it means accepting falsehoods.

Another cognitive pattern research has shown is that the brain assigns greater weight to what it first hears. So perhaps that is why Jesus offers the warning first, before he responds more directly to his disciples’ question. By giving the warning first, it is the strongest piece of information that is associated with the context of the destruction of the Temple. The brain stores memory by context: sight, smell, sounds, and emotion. Jesus’ warning is stored in his disciples’ minds in association with the Temple and the terror and panic associated with its destruction. Whenever the context is recalled in the future, the warning too, will be present as one of the most important pieces of information associated with it. 

The message given by Jesus would then appear to be that when we are faced with something that terrifies us, where we might want to instinctively resort to fight or flight, to give enough time to allow our higher-order reasoning to process the information. “Don’t go after the first person or thing that seems to offer a solution and a way out,” Jesus seems to be saying. Just because something or someone is offering to improve your feeling of comfort and security doesn’t mean they have your best interest in mind. 

Only after this does Jesus begin to speak about some signs. These signs include increasing conflict and violence among nations and peoples; increasing incidents and intensities of natural disasters; and ominous signs and portents in the heavens. But don’t be terrified. And the end is still a ways off. 

But even before all that occurs, his disciples will experience persecution and possibly even death. Friends and family could turn against them. Don’t see this as a calamity, but see it as an opportunity to testify about Christ. And don’t worry about preparing in advance, because Christ will supply the necessary defense that cannot be refuted. 

One way of transforming terror and fear is to reframe it. First, Jesus sets expectations about some of the things that will happen. And then he offers a different way of looking at what initially can be seen as a negative experience. At the heart of Christ’s gospel is that even the greatest evil can be redeemed and transformed. The primary demonstration of this is, of course, Jesus’ death and resurrection, but here Jesus seems to be offering another way in which his disciples can play a part in the grand narrative of redemptive grace. 

We now come to the last two verses for today:

21:18 But not a hair of your head will perish. 

21:19 By your endurance you will gain your souls.

How can Jesus say that “not a hair of your head will perish” when he had just also said that some listening may be put to death? I think that the key to understanding this apparent paradox is to go back to the start of today’s passage where Jesus predicted that the Temple would be utterly destroyed. In comparison, those who faithfully endure will be preserved, even beyond physical death. Everything about them will be preserved and restored in the full realization of the kingdom to come. So much so that even the exact number of hair will remain. 

The physical structure of the Temple, where people have given their treasures and dedicated them to God, will be destroyed. Not even one stone will be left on top of another. In stark contrast, the person and being of Jesus’ disciples will be preserved, down to the very last hair. 

It is this knowledge and hope that has sustained the church of Jesus Christ through two millennia of trials and tribulations from both within and without. This is the basis on which individual Christians and communities of faithful have kept their courage when by all appearances, their cause seemed lost.

Fear can be contagious. But so is courage. 

A healthy Christian community is a courageous one. It absorbs the fears and terrors brought by individuals and transmits courage in return. 

When for so many of us, the world seems like a very scary place and getting scarier with each passing day, it is easy to succumb to fear and terror. We might resort to anger. Or maybe depression. Or disassociating. Or any number of unhealthy coping methods. Just to get through another day.

We need hope and courage to replace our fears. Yes, individuals can each ask God for courage. But it seems that the primary task of transmitting hope and courage is given to the body of Christ. Hope and courage are learned by living in community with others who possess them. 

My exhortation and prayer for you this morning is that this church be known as the community where hope and courage vanquishes fear. May we fully live out Jesus’ command to us, “Do not be terrified.”