What shall your witness be... v. ... What shall your witness have been?

At the ELCA churchwide assembly this last August, I heard the ELCA's presiding bishop, Mark Hansen, give the remarks linked to above. He says "I invite you to think ahead eight years and ask the question this way: “Looking back from 2017, what do we want our witness to have been?”"

That question has been plaguing my mind for weeks now, as I grow into my pastoral identity, as St. James seeks direction in our missional identity. I wonder, do we ask only 'what will our witness be,' or 'what has our witness been?' Or can we look at ourselves, at our church, and wonder, "when people look at me, at us, 20 years from now, what do we hope our witness to have been?"

Bishop Hansen listed many things he hopes the church will witness to in the next 8 years.

• That we are a church whose first language is the Biblical language of faith; that we hear, share, study, pray and sing the scriptures
• That the ELCA's new tag line "God's work. Our hands" indicates not only who we are but whose we are
• That the ELCA is a growing missional church, a center of sharing God's good news in word and deed
• "That, as an entire church body, we resolved that no seminary graduate should be so burdened with educational debt that they are unable to flourish as faithful, wise, and courageous leaders"
• "That we have trained 1000 evangelists following the model of many of our global companion churches"
• That the ELCA committed to being a multi-cultural church, embracing new worship styles and languages
• That we are a church who has grown through renewed ethnic ministries and ministry to people living in poverty
• That we are a church that tithes, and that we are advocates for people who live in poverty or in other distressed conditions
• That we are a church that welcomes immigrants and advocates for their just treatment
• That we have been committed to reducing the prevalence and stigmatization of HIV/AIDS
• That the ELCA was a partner in eradicating malaria by 2015
• That we are a church who has been committed to the care of all creation
• That the development of a social statement for women was as lively and participatory as a social statement on human sexuality
• "That, accompanying the Evangelical Lutheran Church in Jordan and the Holy Land and working with Christian, Jewish and Muslim communities locally and internationally, ELCA members celebrated the signing in 2011 of a just two-state agreement between Israel and Palestine with Jerusalem as a shared city between Jews, Muslims, and Christians."

Many of these hopes require not only the action of the Churchwide Assembly, but also action on the congregational level. Congregations must choose to become literate in the language of faith. We must choose to accept our identity as God’s children. We must choose to formulate our self-identity and ministry through the eyes of mission… Congregations must choose to be partners, working together to witness to the world as the larger church. In this way, we might look back in 20 years and see that our witness has been what we have hoped for it to be.

In looking forward to what he hopes our witness will have been, Bishop Hansen gives direction and purpose to the church’s life. I believe that if we formulate our lives this way, we too, give direction and purpose to our lives. If people look back on my life in 20 years, what do I hope my witness will have been?

·        That I embodied Christ’s compassion and love for God’s people and God’s world

·        That my identity was grounded in being a child of God

·        That I spoke wisely and carefully

·        That I have lived life abundantly

·        That I have not been afraid to have fun

·        That I have boldly made mistakes and learned from them

·        That I not only spoke out against injustice, but that I worked against it

·        That I was a person worth knowing, not because I am perfect, but precisely because I’m not

Of course, this isn’t an exhaustive list of who I hope to be, who I hope to have been. But it is a start. And now I start to wonder, what do I need to do - what do I need to choose - in order to get there.

And so I wonder, people of St. James… in 20 years, what do you hope St. James’ witness to have been?

And I wonder, for all of you… in 20 years, what do you hope your witness to have been?

And how, pray tell, do you intend to get there?

Take up your cross... and love.

Mark 8:27-38

In working on this sermon this week, I ran across a note in somebody’s blog. He was in church one Sunday, and heard a text much like this one, Matthews record of this same event. So, he writes:

The sermon in church today was from where Jesus says to his disciples: “If anyone wants to be a follower of mine, let him renounce himself and take up his cross and follow me.” When I got home I thought I’d do something nice. I gave my wife a big hug and a kiss, and carried her indoors. Startled she snapped "What’s wrong with you, have you gone crazy?" "No my dear,” I replied. "Didn’t you hear the sermon? Jesus said pick up your cross and follow Me." I got a slap in the face and severe backache. No Sunday lunch either!

That’s the problem with this story, though. We don’t quite understand what Jesus is saying, what Jesus means when he says disciples must ‘take up their cross and follow.’ There are lots of misinterpretations and misunderstandings about this. I know that some pastors have used this text to encourage women in abusive relationships to see their abuse as the ‘cross’ Jesus would have them carry. When people get sick or have bad things happen in life, the church often responds by saying ‘that’s your cross to bear.’ We want to believe that God controls the bad things in life – that God causes illness or abuse or tragedy to make us stronger, more Christian, maybe even to test us. But none of this is true. And none of this is what Jesus meant by ‘take up your cross.’ It is no wonder that we don’t easily understand. After all, the disciples didn’t understand either. Even when Jesus was there, right with them, explaining to them –  even then, they didn’t understand. But that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t continue trying, working with the text, with Jesus’ intent, trying to understand better what Jesus is calling us to do.

So let’s look at the larger story. Jesus is continuing to travel with his disciples, and talking with them. Throughout the book of Mark, Jesus has rebuked everyone and everything that has attested that he’s the Messiah. So it’s interesting that as they’re traveling, Jesus asks the disciples who people say he is. The disciples answered him honestly, and correctly. People don’t know who Jesus is, but they’re guessing. They believe Jesus is from God – but they don’t know who he is or why he’s there. But note that in all their guesses, no one calls Jesus the messiah.

So Jesus continues the conversation, “But who do you say I am?” Without missing a beat, Peter jumps up – “You are the Messiah!” Messiah is a Hebrew word meaning ‘anointed one.’ Peter is saying “You, Jesus, are the Anointed One!” But this anointing, this messiah-ship means something to Peter, to the disciples, to the Jews. Their whole religion is built around being God’s chosen people – a people to whom a messiah will come. And they believe this messiah will take back this people for God. He will be anointed king and ride in on chariots of fire, attacking the Romans with vengeance. He will turn the world upside-down through military might, turning the Jewish state into a military power that will rule the world. And all people will come to Jerusalem to pay taxes and to see the world’s most powerful city, and to praise the God who made it so.

So Peter makes this great statement of faith – “You, Jesus, are the Messiah.” And he is WRONG.  Because Jesus is the anointed one. Jesus is sent from God. Jesus is going to turn the world upside-down. But not through might and not through power. Jesus is going to change the world by becoming a servant, a cross-bearing criminal, an innocent martyr.

And so, we hear that Jesus ‘sternly ordered’ them to tell no one. They could tell no one, because they didn’t yet understand. Even in Peter’s excitement, in his bold profession of faith, something is missing. And Jesus doesn’t want the disciples preaching the wrong message. So Jesus orders them to tell no one.

And then he begins teaching them who he really is, what it really means to be the Messiah. He rephrases what Peter says – calling himself not ‘the Messiah,’ but ‘the Human One.’ What defines Jesus is not that he was anointed by God, but that he was granted humanness by God. He got to come to earth as a human and participate in human activities. He gets to teach humans and know humans through being human himself. So, he says, the human one, the Son of Man must undergo suffering. His teaching, his self-understanding, will be rejected by all the Jewish leaders and scholars. And he will be killed for this. He will be killed for his love and his care of his human brothers and sisters. But then, after three days, he will rise again. This is how God is going to change things. This is how God is going to turn the world upside-down.

But here, not only do the disciples not anticipate this, they still don’t understand it. They don’t understand how the prophecies will be fulfilled through Jesus’ death. They don’t understand that God’s reign, God’s kindom, is about love and care and right relationship between all people and all creation. And so Peter takes Jesus aside and rebukes him – sternly orders him not to say such things.

Imagine Jesus now. He’s just told the disciples as plainly as he could who he is. And they don’t understand. They don’t understand so much that Peter is arguing with him. That’s not who you are! You don’t know who you are. Imagine the disappointment, the frustration that Jesus would experience. And so he rebukes Peter right back. He sternly orders him, “Get behind me Satan!” Peter is so concerned with earthly things – the beliefs and myths that his religion has taught him – that he is unable to see divine things. Peter is so concerned about Jesus ‘winning’ and conquering the Romans that he can’t see God’s plan is bigger than that. That God’s kindom isn’t about vengeance or power, it’s about inclusion and mutuality. So Jesus has to explain further, to try to get the disciples to understand what God’s plan is all about.

And this is the context into which Jesus tells us to take up our cross and follow. It is in this context, where Jesus knows what is coming for him, that Jesus asks disciples to step into. God does not send a cross for us to bear. God does not cause tragedies to happen. God does not make people abusive. God does not intend for us to get sick or to be killed. Rather, Jesus asks us to follow him – knowing that the world, this “sinful and adulterous generation,” can’t handle God’s plan. The world can’t handle God’s love for all people. We don’t want to give up any of what we have so that those with nothing could have something. We don’t want to give any of our power to those whose voices are never heard. We don’t want to risk being in right relationship with others – with all of creation – because that means we can’t be in control anymore, we can’t have all the power anymore. And we don’t like that. The world doesn’t like that.

So if we choose to do what God is calling us to do, what Jesus asks us to do. If we choose to pick up our cross and follow, then we know we are walking in Jesus’ footsteps. We are choosing to walk into the world and care about it. To care for those the world doesn’t care about – the poor, the sick, the widows and widowers, the orphans, the single mothers, the drug addicts, the abused, the alcoholics, the homeless, the hungry, the mentally ill, those without clean water, the latch-key kids, the lonely, the prisoners, even the environment. And in this caring, there may be challenges. There may be hardship. There may be death. But we choose to care because God calls us to care. We choose to care because that’s what it means to be a disciple – a follower – of Jesus.

And so the question is, who is God calling us to care for today. You, people of St. James, have been caring for God’s world for your entire existence. St. James has cared for each of you and your families. St. James has cared for the sick, visiting them in hospitals. St. James has cared for refugees, sending blankets overseas and stocking a family’s bathroom. St. James has cared for people with mental illness, donating money and praying for the work of the Lutheran Social Services of Illinois. St. James has cared for prisoners and their families, donating Christmas presents on the angel tree. St. James has made its mission to grow in faith and share God’s love. This is our mission. This is what we at St. James are here to do. We worship, we meet for Bible study and adult forums, we share our time and our faith with each other. And, we share God’s love. We give to the World Hunger Appeal. We donate to LSSI. We put on the Oktoberfest and invite the community to know our love and God’s love.

And so now, what is God calling us to do? Where is God calling us to be? I sense that God is calling us to care for our community, to offer careful love to the people who sit in our pews every week or just one week. I sense that God is calling us to care for our neighborhood – to invite people to church – inviting our friends, the waitress at the restaurant, the nurse who stops by to check on us, the person who delivers our mail. And I sense that God is calling us to care beyond that – perhaps for women and children affected by domestic violence. Perhaps for teenagers who feel alone and need a mentor. Perhaps for people living in group homes or halfway houses who don’t have a ride to church. Or perhaps you feel God is calling us to care for someone else, different people. 

Whoever God calls us to care for, we know that God is calling us to care. Jesus is asking us to pick up this cross – knowing that it may be difficult, it may be painful, but it is absolutely imperative. Jesus asks us to pick up this cross and follow him. May we be bold to do so. May we be bold to announce Jesus as the one who will turn the world upside-down. May we be bold to announce that we will follow Jesus, even into suffering or death. And may we be in conversation about who God is calling us to care about now, and how God is calling us to care. Because this is call. This is our mission. And may we be ever faithful to it. Amen.

The Eclipse: Which news is the Good News?

John 6:56-69; Ephesians 6:10-20

My friends, I hope and I pray that each of you has put on the armor of God today. I pray that you started out this morning fastening the belt of truth around your waist, listening for the true words of God to come to you. I pray you found the breastplate of righteousness, that bulletproof vest that will protect your most vulnerable parts when you are attacked. I pray that as you slipped on your shoes, they are walking shoes. Shoes that will let you walk up the mountains of our neighborhood – walk down the street and into your homes, walk through our community and into that Sunday brunch place. I pray your walking shoes are gospel shoes. Peace shoes. Shoes to proclaim a gospel of peace. Shoes that will hold you steady and upright so you can proclaim God’s peace for all people. Then, after putting on your shoes and before walking out the door, I pray you picked up your shield of faith. Faith in one God. Faith in Jesus Christ. Faith in the movement of the Holy Spirit. I pray then that you grabbed your helmet of salvation. I pray you placed on your head and in your mind God’s holy healing. I pray that your helmet today is a salve to you and to the world. A salve that offers God’s healing presence and words. And finally, after you placed that helmet on your head, I pray you remembered also the sword of the Spirit. That sword, that weapon which might injure or protect, is the Word of God. I pray that this Word of God is in your hearts and on your minds. I pray that this Word of God has been written on your hearts, where it can be useful to you when you need it.

I hope for you, I pray for you, that you have done all of this. Dressed in this way, brought this gear with you. For today, Jesus is telling us that the walk ahead is going to be hard. This gospel will be hard to hear. Today, hope might be more difficult to bear. Jesus is telling us, he’s not going where we want to go. He’s not doing what we want to do. He’s not heading where we want to head. But still, listen still. Hear that Jesus is still calling us to follow him. Calling us into the hard places. Into the difficult conversations. Into the disagreements and frustrations. Jesus is calling us into prison cells and sick beds. And Jesus is truly calling us straight to the cross. Jesus calls us to that cross, and then to the table. The table where we put aside all differences, where we come together as one body – the body of Christ. This is the table where we lay all our sins before God, lamenting Jesus’ death, recognizing that we’re unworthy and yet God redeems us, God redeems us so that we might finally celebrate Jesus’ resurrection. Jesus’ overcoming of all death, all evil, all destruction. At this table, we all together take the bread from heaven into our hands and into our bodies. And as we eat this bread, becoming one with the whole body of Christ, whole even as Christ is whole, we find life.

Brothers and sisters in Christ, I pray that you are ready to receive God’s word. I pray that the whole church is ready for this next, new word. You may have noticed this week that the ELCA – the church of which we’re a part – has been in the news quite a lot. This past week, delegates from all over the country got together in Minneapolis for the Churchwide Assembly. Every 2 years, this assembly meets to discuss church business – accepting a budget, considering proposals to change current ELCA policies and practices, debating social statements and ideas. Most years, this assembly passes by, unnoticed by the media (and often by the general membership of the ELCA). Sometimes, though, the decisions the church will make get picked up and carried in the media. This is one of those years.

If you haven’t read about it in the paper, or seen it on the internet, or heard it on the radio, let me tell you what the media is saying the big news is. The ELCA’s churchwide body has voted to adopt a social statement on sexuality. The gist of the statement says that we as a church are deeply divided about what kinds of sexual lifestyles are appropriate or sinful. Thus, the church recognizes that there are some of us who believe that homosexuality is a gift from God, just as heterosexuality is a gift from God. Therefore, the church as a whole will not condemn people living in such relationships. Furthermore, the assembly adopted resolutions that will allow pastors to provide blessings for same-gender relationships, and people who have been so blessed may be candidates for rostered ministry in the ELCA. That means, people in committed life-long same-gender relationships may be pastors or deaconesses or associates in ministry in the ELCA.

This is the new position – if it can be so called – adopted by our churchwide body. And the social statement is correct – the church is deeply divided about whether adopting this position is just and righteous or sinful. The media has been suggesting that this decision will divide the church – that people will leave in droves because they disagree with the church’s new stand on this issue. And maybe they will. Maybe some folks, or some entire congregations, will be so upset that they can no longer be in relationship with the rest of us. Maybe some people are so hurt that they will choose to leave instead of to continue the conversation. I hope not. But this wouldn’t be the first time people have left over a new teaching that is difficult to swallow.

But what is troublesome to me is not so much how the church will handle our deep disagreements. There has been deep disagreement on this issue for a very long time – almost since the ELCA was founded. The tides may be turning, the majority opinion changing, but the disagreement will remain. Staying in conversation about sexuality, whether we agree or disagree with the decisions made, will be difficult. I trust and I pray that we will find ways to remain in conversation about sexuality. Much conversation remains and continues to be needed. Jesus continues to call us into this conversation, even when we don’t want to be there.

What I find troublesome, is that in light of a statement about sexuality, everything else fades into the background. This decision is not the only decision the Churchwide Assembly made. And, in truth, this is not the only hard truth Jesus is calling us to accept today. Among other things, the assembly also voted on initiatives to support prevention, education, and healthcare for people with malaria and also people with HIV/AIDS. These initiatives passed almost unanimously, providing needed services both domestically and abroad. Our support of the World Hunger Appeal will support these initiatives, as we follow Jesus into the sick beds, hospitals, and infirmaries, working to heal the Body of Christ. Doing this work is also difficult. Jesus calls us to radical hospitality for the sick. Jesus calls us to be a caring community – a place where the sick can come not only for healing or for cure, but also for the love of God. The love of God that does not ask first if one is sick or healthy, abled or disabled, rich or poor. This is the love Jesus calls us to offer, to each other, to our community, to the world.

Let’s return for a minute to the gospel from today. Jesus had been teaching his disciples – all the people who had been following him – about God’s message of truth and eternal life. Jesus was insisting that one must eat his flesh and drink his blood in order to have eternal life. This was difficult to hear, and even more difficult to understand. The disciples have asked him already how it is that they might eat his flesh. They cannot imagine that Jesus was calling them to cannibalism – and indeed, he was not. But Jesus, the Messiah was not bringing the message of power and glory they had expected. They had expected that Jesus would ride in on a chariot with a sword of fire and destroy everyone and everything that got in his way. They had expected that they would be on the winning side – and that they might take vengeance on the losers.

Instead, Jesus is proclaiming a gospel of servanthood and peace. Jesus proclaims that real life, eternal life, life in God and with Jesus comes only through our willingness to be non-violent protesters of the injustices around us. It comes through advocacy and healthcare. It comes through giving to the poor and becoming one of them – not offering simple charity, but inviting whoever we might call “them” to become one of “us.” And, even more difficult, for “us” to willingly become one of “them.”

These are hard teachings. Jesus knew they were hard, and Jesus knew that the disciples were complaining. "Does this offend you?" he asked. Literally, he asked “Does this cause you to stumble?” Indeed, the gospel causes us to stumble, to stutter, to stop. The gospel causes people to stumble, in part, because God's ways are not our ways. We would not save the world by weakness but by power. We would not choose to have God's son born in a manger but in a palace. We would not choose a cross, but a sword -- or a classroom-- or a medical lab -- or a wealthy charitable foundation -- or some other instrument that would offer us opportunity to use power and to exercise control.

The Gospel also causes people to stumble because it is risky. It is hard. It is not fun or easy or nice. When Christ calls us to eat his flesh and to drink his blood, he invites us to participate in his death. The Christians who first read this Gospel experienced persecution. They knew martyred Christians, suffered under the threat of martyrdom, and knew Christians who avoided martyrdom by compromising their faith. Our society does not fear this kind of death so much, need not fear it. But Jesus’ message still calls us to do what is difficult, to hear difficult teachings, to be willing to admit that we might be wrong – and still live together and thrive together as the body of Christ.

And so, God calls us to what is difficult. That may be difficult conversation and the risk that we will deeply disagree or be deeply hurt. That may be caring for the sick and the risk that we, too, may become sick. That may be speaking up for those whose voices aren’t yet heard and the risk that we will be speaking out alone. That may be feeding the hungry and the risk that as we share our own food, we too may go hungry. That may be finding affordable homes for the homeless and the risk that our own property values will be lower because of their presence. Following Jesus is risky. Following Jesus has always been risky. But now, and every moment of every day, we must decide if we will be like those many disciples who could not bear the teaching and stopped following Jesus, or if we will be like Peter – the lone spokesman for the 12 – who decided to take the risk, to remain, to follow, even unto death.

Who knows what the 12 would have done if Peter had failed to speak up? Will you be one to speak up, to move forward, to follow Jesus into the difficult places where he will go? Will you be one to be truly a part of the Body of Christ?

The media would have us believe that the sexuality statement is THE news of the assembly. But it is not so. While the news of the sexuality statement has eclipsed all other assembly news, let us not allow this news to eclipse the Good News. There is Good News – there is life – in the journey with Christ.

And so, brothers and sisters in Christ, I pray that as we gather at the communion table today, as we eat the body and drink the blood, we would be reminded of this Good News. We would be reminded that we ARE one in Christ. We are indeed Christ’s body. We are the hands Christ will use in the world. Ours are the voices that will speak Christ’s words. We are the healers and the listeners and the liberators through whom Christ continues to work. And so, into the difficult places we go, following Jesus and trusting that in that journey, there is life. May it be so. Amen.



Also check out Nadia Bolz-Weber's take on this one. Her thoughts are succinct and poetic.

Bread of Life - Bread for Life

John 6:35, 41-51

Jesus says, “I am the bread of life.” “This is the bread that comes down from heaven, that one might eat of it and not die.” “Whoever believes has eternal life.” You might have noticed, we’re hearing a lot about bread these days. Each Sunday, we are hearing part of one large discourse that Jesus gave while he was in Capernum. You may remember that last week Matt discussed that Jesus calls us to feed both on the physical bread that fills our bellies as well as the spiritual bread that nourishes our souls. Jesus does not say that physical hunger is unimportant. But he does say that physical hunger is not all there is. A good meal isn’t all God has to offer.

 As Jesus is speaking in today’s story, we are taken us back into the wilderness, into a time when the Hebrew people were fleeing for their lives. The desert is smoldering hot during the day and freezing at night. The Hebrew people were nomads – forced from their homes in Egypt into a cruel and desolate desert. Looking for life there, all they could see around them, all they could imagine – was death. So they began grumbling against God, and against Moses – the man God had sent to lead them into the promised land. The Hebrew people began talking about the good times back in Egypt. They talked about the food there, the wells of fresh water to drink. Conveniently skipping over the cruelties of slave life, the people yearned for some hope for the future – and saw that hope only in returning from where they came.

But God heard the people. God heard their grumbling and complaining. God heard their fear. And God provided for them – bread in the wilderness. Sweet, delicate manna. Each piece only a morsel, but there was enough that everyone might eat and be full. That all might have full bellies. And that all might have nourished spirits as well. God provided food for the people. God also provided hope for the future – that God’s future for the Hebrew people truly did include hope and a promised land.

Now, the people Jesus was speaking to surely would have known this story. They would have known the importance of the bread in the wilderness. They would have understood that God provides both food and spiritual nourishment. This would have been a Sunday School topic, or a dinner table topic, or if nothing else a yearly Passover-meal topic. The history of their ancestors was important to them, and it would have been repeated frequently. So as Jesus addressed this particular group of people, Jesus knew that they would ‘get’ the story about the manna. They would understand its importance. And yet, Jesus reminded the people: “Your ancestors ate the manna in the wilderness, and they died.”   Evidently, the manna wasn’t enough. Eating manna every day provided life and hope for the people – but not forever. It wasn’t a forever thing.

And, Jesus says, that’s the whole point! You understand the importance of bread. You get that bread isn’t just bread. It isn’t just a meal. And yet, you don’t understand that Jesus is the bread. Jesus is bread from heaven. Jesus is bread from heaven that brings life for the world.

Right. I get it. Sort of. OK, not really. I want to know HOW? What is that supposed to mean, really? What does it mean to eat of this bread and live forever? What does it mean to have eternal life?

Christians tend to think of eternal life as something that will come in the future. As in, when we die, we don’t die… that’s when our promise of eternal life kicks in. But in John’s gospel, it’s very clear that eternal life isn’t something in the future. Eternal life is happening NOW. By our very relationship with God, we have eternal life. By the simple fact that we come to worship God each Sunday. In the simplicity of our prayers. In the earnestness of our offerings. In these ways of allowing God to move us (and hoping that we might move God), we are participating in the promised eternal life. That life which God wills for us. That life for which Jesus was sent to earth, died, and was raised again. For us.

Jesus is the bread of life. And we get to remember that whenever we eat. But especially, each time that we gather at the communion table, we eat the bread of life. We express a belief that Jesus is Lord. We express a faith that God’s promises are secure. We express a hope that God’s future will prevail. Jesus has promised to be present in communion. God reaches out to touch us through that bread. To bring fullness to our bellies, and hope to our souls. This is eternal life.

The communion table and the word of God are central to our worship together. They are central to worship all over the world. A friend of mine told me this story about worshipping in a Lutheran church somewhere in Africa. It was early morning, but it was already nearly 100 degrees in the small sanctuary. There were a few chairs for the elders to use, but mostly people sat on the dirt floor. The worship was in the native language of the people, so my friend understood little of what was going on. At the time the service was set to begin, only a handful of people had come. The pastor began the service anyway. As the service continued, people began to trickle in by 1s and 2s and sometimes 8s or 10s. As the pastor was concluding his sermon and everyone stood to sing, people piled in more and more until it seemed that no one more could get through the front door. As the song continued, more people tried to get into the small church, and they started lining up out the door. By the time the communion blessing had been said and distribution began, nearly the whole village was lined up to receive the sacrament. And there was bread enough for all of them.

After the service, my friend asked the pastor about this. Why had the people not come before? Why had they all lined up so eagerly? The pastor answered him, “My son, this bread that we give them – for many in this village, this is the only bread they will eat this week.” Indeed, for these people, this is the bread of life.

            But this story, this reality of starvation, begs this question: if Jesus is the bread of life, what does it mean that some people don’t have bread? What does it mean that there are communities like this one in Africa where a single piece of bread offered through a church is one’s only meal for the week? What does it mean that each day, people starve because they cannot farm the land they live on? What does it mean that people in this country, in our own back yard, can’t seem to make ends meet?

            Just this last week, two different people came to me, looking for help feeding their families. They’re just normal guys with normal families who have fallen on hard times. Money is tighter, medical bills pile up, jobs fall through. And suddenly, there’s no money left for this week’s grocery bill. There’s nothing left to feed their hungry bellies – is there anything left, then, to nourish their souls?

            In this case, they have come to the right place. Here at St. James, we’re in the business of nourishing souls. We’re in the business of giving the bread of life, hope for the future. But we know this can’t be done on an empty stomach. Here, we offer Jewel cards to passers-by who need a bite to eat. We offer Jewel cards and a heartfelt conversation with the pastor – maybe a prayer. But at times, this whole-hearted offering seems paltry when compared with the vast needs of these individuals – and especially with the vast needs of the world.

            And here again, we at St. James are in the business of giving that bread of life – that life-sustaining food that offers hope for the future. Through our donations to and prayers for the ELCA Hunger Appeal, we are responding to the world’s need to taste and see the goodness of God. To taste the bread of life, fill one’s belly with it, and to have hope for a future yet to come. A future when no one will be hungry, and all might be fed. Because through the ELCA Hunger Appeal, we address not only today’s hunger but the root issues that are causing that hunger. The appeal does not simply give hand-outs. The appeal teaches farming techniques and helps develop safe water gathering techniques. It gives emergency aid when it’s called for, and advocates for fair use of the land by everyone. But perhaps most importantly, the Hunger Appeal advocates on behalf of all those who are hungry – seeking resources, fair laws, education, and poverty reduction. Through the ELCA Hunger Appeal, we feed hungry people. We offer bread of life for their bellies. But we also feed hungry souls. We offer hope for a changed future. We offer hope for a future when they will be hungry no more.

            So this has me wondering, how can we do that here, in Western Springs? How can we offer the bread of life to our own community? How can we reach into our community with more than just bread for the belly, but bread for the soul?

            As we journey together, I pray that each of us will keep these questions on our minds and in our hearts as we listen for how God is calling us to respond. To see needs where we didn’t see them before. To find resources where we didn’t have them before. To bring God’s bread of life here, into our corner of the world. Amen.

Participating in the Miraculous

John 6:1-21

This story of Jesus feeding 5,000 families is a pretty familiar story. In fact, this is the only story that is recounted in all 4 gospels. You may remember from last week that we heard just the beginning of this story – where Jesus arrived and had compassion for the people because they were like sheep without a shepherd. You may remember that last week’s gospel invited us to reach out and touch people, to be Jesus’ healing hands and feet and voices, in our world today. This week’s gospel invites us to do much the same thing.

Today we hear that a huge number of people are following Jesus because of the things they saw him doing for the sick. We don’t know whether these are people who are sick themselves, or if they’re just enjoying the magic show. Maybe they were disciples in the traditional sense – followers of Jesus’ teachings – or maybe they were disciples in a more literal sense – they physically followed Jesus to see what he would do next. In any case, they’re following him and Jesus knows that at some point they’re all going to have to stop and eat. But when he asks where to buy bread for them, the apostles bristle. Jesus surely knows they can’t afford to buy that much bread – and they probably wonder why he even asked in the first place.

So, maybe they began scouring the crowd and asking if anyone had brought a picnic basket. Or maybe a boy overheard Jesus talking with Philip about lunch. Either way, the child volunteered the lunch he had brought with him. When Jesus took the bread, he blessed it and he broke it and he gave it for all to eat. Likewise, he took the fish, blessed it and broke it and gave it for all to eat. And     everyone     ate. Out of 2 fish and 5 loaves there was enough lunch for 5,000 men – who were counted – plus the women and children who were there too. And in the end, Jesus knew how important food was – and made sure that the disciples gathered all that was left over, so none would be wasted.

I’ve heard this story a lot. And I’ve heard a lot of explanations and rationalizations about what really happened on that mountain that day. I don’t know if every generation is this way or if it’s just mine, but in my generation, it has become fashionable to disbelieve whatever you were taught as a kid. More importantly, it’s fashionable to believe only what can be proven, one way or another. In fact, I ran across a news story last week about people getting ‘de-baptized.’ Essentially, there are people who were baptized as children who don’t believe in God anymore. They think their baptism was at best a sham, at worst an outright lie. The way de-baptism works is that a group of people who want to renounce their baptism get together. They write the word “reason” on a hair drier, and they get blown off with it. Then, they snack on saltines and peanut butter. In making fun of the church ritual they no longer believe in, they feel somehow vindicated.

For people who look for scientific or reasonable answers to the things we face in the world, miracles are hard to swallow. Mysteries are hard to believe in. In truth, miracles and mysteries are hard for anyone to believe in – even for those of us who really do believe in God. Even for us, sometimes the miraculous is difficult to swallow.

So maybe that’s why there are so many explanations and rationalizations out there about how the miracle of the loaves and fishes happened. One of these is that when the little boy was willing to share his lunch, the person next to him was willing to share hers too, and then the person next to her, and the person next to him… It is true that sharing has a tendency to rub off. But that’s not the way the story is told. Another explanation is that the boy’s lunch was just a representation of what was available – that there wasn’t really a shortage in the first place, but Jesus needed something over which to give a blessing. But again, this is not what we are told happened. We are told that there was not enough – and through Jesus, somehow there became not just enough, but more than enough.

It’s easy for us to get caught up in what exactly happened, in trying to rationalize or explain what’s really going on here. It’s easy for us to want to understand so much that we lose what’s really important.       Try to imagine being one of the people on that hill that day. It’s hot and dry, and you haven’t eaten in hours. Jesus tells you to sit and eat. Do you care where the food comes from? Do you care whether your neighbor took it out of her basket or whether she took it from the person next to her? Either way, you had no food and now you have food – and this is a miraculous thing. Whatever Jesus did, he made a miracle happen. Jesus made a miracle happen, and he allowed those around him to participate – to see, to touch, to eat; to be a part of the miraculous. And the amazing thing is, God is still making miracles happen. And God still invites us to participate – by seeing and touching and eating – and by being God’s presence in the world.

This year, we at St. James are making a real effort to be a part of God’s miraculous presence. While we do this in many ways, one thing we’re doing is giving to the ELCA Hunger Appeal. This appeal brings relief, development, education and advocacy to places in the world where our brothers and sisters are afflicted by starvation, thirst, and disease. The money we give, the prayers we say, and the actions we take are gathered together. Through God’s miraculous and mysterious blessing, our humble offerings multiply. Many are fed, clothed, and healed, and in their health and education, they offer food, clothing, and healthcare to many others. Nothing that is given is wasted. This week and in the next several weeks, the gospel lessons invite us to remember the hungry, and to remember that through Jesus, all can be fed.

You see, the problem the world faces is not that there is not enough food to go around. The problem is that we haven’t yet figured out how to take what we need and give what we don’t need to our neighbor. But we are learning – one person, one congregation, one village at a time. We are learning how to be a part of God’s miraculous work today.

One person who has figured this out is Godfrey. Godfrey is a 15 year old from Bukoba, Tanzania A team from the ELCA World Hunger Appeal visited Godfrey at a center which the appeal supports that serves orphaned children. Godfrey and his younger brothers live alone now, because their parents died of AIDS. Godfrey is now the head of their household. The care they receive from the center allows them to stay in their own home and continue going to school. The entire time that the team sat and talked with Godfrey, he held a squirmy chicken tightly on his lap. At the end of their visit, Godfrey whispered nervously in the host’s ear. She told the team, “Because you have given gifts, Godfrey has a gift for you. He would like you to have this chicken.” The team asked him, “Godfrey, how many chickens do you have?” Godfrey answered, “Two.”

Godfrey understood that gifts multiply. Godfrey was willing to risk giving up half of his income potential, half of his bank account, so that God could multiply his gift and be a miracle for someone else.

As we go about our lives, may we too remember that God multiplies what we give. However it happens, God makes miracles happen. And God lets us participate too.

Thanks be to God.

John's Beheading - my introduction to St. James

Mark 6:14-29 

I’m really glad to be here, worshipping with you, bringing God’s good news to you. I’m excited about the ministry we are going do together. But earlier this week, as I was reading these Bible texts, I thought, “I should have waited a week!” Who wants to preach about some guy getting beheaded or a prophet condemning Israel? What an introduction to my new congregation! I even turned to Tom and said, “There is no good news this week! It’s all bad news.”
            So as I began to read more carefully and study this story about John, the lack of good news begged the question, what else is there? What’s the bigger story? What good, redemptive message is God bringing to us today?
            The lectionary texts – these short lessons we read each week – all come out of a bigger story. The texts come from books of the Bible, which come from the whole Bible, which tells us a part of God’s story. So when we look at this story about Herod murdering John the baptizer because of his daughter’s fancy, we know that’s not the whole story.
             John had been preaching in the countryside, and Herod liked to hear what he had to say. The problem was, Herod had married his brother’s wife, and John told him that this was unlawful. Herod’s new wife, Herodius, hated John because of what he said and she wanted him killed. But Herod was afraid of killing him – and he liked listening to him. So Herod refused to kill John, but he threw him in prison. Then, as we hear in the gospel story, Herod promises that he’ll give his daughter whatever she wants – and she asks for John’s head. So, Herod reluctantly has John beheaded.

All of that happened before the gospel story we hear today. Today, we hear that King Herod has gotten a report about what Jesus’ disciples are doing. Jesus had just called his disciples and sent them out to heal, to cast out demons, to preach. Jesus’ disciples do this with such authority and effectiveness that the king has heard about what they’re doing. And this is what causes King Herod to remember what he had done to John, to fear that John may have returned from the dead. In the gospel story, we get the benefit of remembering with Herod what he did to John the baptizer. And then, right after this, we hear about Jesus miraculously feeding 5,000 families.

John had been a prophet of God, a bearer of God’s word and wisdom. But John’s death did not stop God’s story. There were still disciples, still Jesus, to continue God’s work. People are still hearing about what God has done. John’s story was not God’s whole story. We hear more about God’s story in Ephesians. Through Christ, God’s plan is the redemption of all things. Paul writes that Christ is God’s plan “for the fullness of time.” God’s story holds the beginning of creation and the mending of all things in the end. And God’s story holds our stories – our joys, our expectations, our disappointments, and our pain.
            Knowing the whole story is important. It gives us a better understanding of what’s going on. Have you ever gone to a 3-D movie and forgotten to pick up your red and blue glasses at the door? If you watch the movie that way, you miss part of it. You’re only getting a part of the story. I think that sometimes it’s fun to take off the glasses and watch the audience at a 3-D movie. They duck at flying asteroids and put their hands out to block them. But without the glasses on, you don’t know the asteroids are coming. You’re only getting part of the story.
            I think that we often only get part of the story. For example, try listening to the news. On Thursday, my sister called me to find out what was happening with the Burr Oak Cemetery in Chicago. She lives in Ohio and heard that people had been arrested, but she didn’t know why. She only had part of the story.
            When we only have part of the story, we feel confused or scared or lonely. We may feel like God has abandoned us. How do you think John felt when he was alone and in prison? How do you think he felt as he was being bound, the sword above his head? I suspect he wondered what God was doing, where God was, if God even existed or cared anymore. I suspect he was afraid. But I also suspect that he knew God cared, and that this was not really the end.
            You see, there is a freedom to knowing that we only know part of the story. There are times in our lives when we do wonder if God is there. There are times in our lives when God seems absent – when those around us leave us. There are times in our lives when our call to speak God’s good news seems too much to bear. There are times in our lives when it seems there is no good news.
            But in those times, we can know that this is not the end. God’s story is bigger than our story. God is still working in us, in our church, in our lives. God has plans for us that we can’t see yet. Our story is only a part of God’s story. In good times and in bad, God is with us – working with us, working for us, to bring healing and peace – to us, to our church, to our world.
            So, as we begin our ministry together now, we know that we can’t see the end of God’s plan for us. We can’t know for sure where our journey will take us. But we can know that God is here, with us. God is weaving our stories – yours and mine – into her story. God is working St. James’ mission, St. James’ story, into his story. And while we don’t know quite where that will take us next, we know how it will end. With God’s peace and healing and mending of the whole world.
            Oscar Romero was an archbishop of the Catholic church. He, much like John, was killed by the government of El Salvador because he faithfully proclaimed God’s good news of repentance and healing. He worked to bring justice to the people of El Salvador. This poem is attributed to him.

It helps, now and then, to take the long view.
The kingdom is not only beyond our efforts,
it is beyond our vision.
We accomplish in our lifetime only a tiny fraction
of the magnificent enterprise that is God’s work.
Nothing we do is complete,
which is another way of saying that the kingdom always lies beyond us.
No statement says all that could be said.
No prayer fully expresses our faith.
No confession brings perfection.
No pastoral visit brings wholeness.
No program accomplishes the Church’s mission.
No set of goals and objectives includes everything.
This is what we are all about.
We plant seeds that one day will grow.
We water seeds already planted, knowing that they hold future promise.
We lay foundations that will need further development.
We provide yeast that produces effects beyond our capabilities.
We cannot do everything, and there is a sense of liberation in realizing that.
This enables us to do something, and to do it very well.
It may be incomplete, but it is a beginning, a step along the way,
an opportunity for God’s grace to enter
and do the rest.
We may never see the end results,
but that is the difference between the master builder and the worker.
We are workers, not master builders; ministers, not messiahs.
We are prophets of a future not our own.
 

Romero’s words remind us that whatever our lives together may hold, God’s story is always bigger. Thanks be to God.

Regarding sermons...

Sermons are an event. Sermons aren't simply written pieces of work like papers or theses. They're not just something you can listen to on your iPod and get the whole idea. Sermons are - or should be, anyway - events that take into account the written Word, the spoken words, the people present, and EVERYTHING else. The way things feel, the way people react, the warmth in the sanctuary, the smell of summer (or your neighbor's socks), the feel of the church pew, the children rustling, the gentleman snoring...

I've been tempted not to post sermons because one can't receive the whole event through words or audio. (Hopefully I'll figure out how to get audio up soon!) But then again, there are some sermons that are worth reading or hearing again, worth reading or hearing even in the absence of the entire event. Maybe this creates a new sermon-event. Certainly not every sermon I preach will be this way -- but just in case, I've decided to post them anyhow. I appreciate your attention, and your comments.