Image: Charles O’Donnell, Detail from “Ancient city of Jerusalem with Solomon’s Temple,” ca. 1871.Public domain, via Wikimedia commons.
The below sermon was preached on Reformation Sunday, September 28, 2025, following the Narrative Lectionary (Year 4). The preaching text was 1 Kings 5:1-5; 8:1-13.
For those who might not know, the Books of First and Second Kings were originally one book. The stories within cover an expansive narrative of Israel’s kings from the end of David’s reign through the Babylonian Captivity. (That’s about 400 years.) In them, you can discover ancient history with moral and ethical high points, and often people who fall short in their love for God and neighbor.
Today, we join King Solomon, David’s son, blessed with great wisdom by God, as the nation dedicates its long-awaited Temple for their God on Mount Moriah in Jerusalem. With that gift of wisdom, Solomon had led his people well. Israel was experiencing both peace and prosperity. His God given gift has led to this great blessing for the people of Isreal. They are a people whom God has declared Qodesh Olam, “the Holy People of God.” Yet, they aren’t Holy because of anything they do. They are holy because God has chosen them, loves them, and wishes to live among them.
Yet hold on to your hammers and nails, you good Lutherans out there (it is Reformation Sunday after all), because there’s much more to this story. The Temple Mount and the Temple itself have long been a part of salvation history before we ever come to this day of Temple dedication – the Temple being what becomes the center of all priestly activities and place of cultic sacrifice. You might recall the story of Abraham binding Isaac so that Isaac might be sacrificed on a mountaintop in the Land of Moriah. In lieu of this, God provides a ram to be sacrificed. This is believed by many Jewish, Christian, and Muslim persons to be the site of what is now called the Temple Mount. You can find a large bolder there located under the present-day mosque which people suggest is where it all happened.
As the story of the Jewish people unfolds through a time of slavery in Egypt and beyond, we eventually get to King Saul. The people have been tribal and nomadic once in the Holy Land. The were anxious to move from governance by tribal leaders, known as Judges, toward governance by kings. God indicated that the Israelites did not really need a king. God was their ultimate king. Still, God said, “OK.”
Then, when David replaces Saul, he conquers a city, named Jebus, owned by a foreign people. Now firmly Isreal’s, David renames the city, Jerusalem. It will become their capital. He joyfully dances before the Ark of the Covenant as it is carried to be placed within the Tent of Meeting. As the Tent of Meeting and the Ark moved through the desert with Moses’ people, wherever they people camped, it was always placed in the center of the Tribes. Symbolically, this reminded them that God and their Holy Covenant was to remain central to their lives within community. The city itself was also chosen to be the capital because it was in a relatively central, neutral location between the twelve tribes, had strong defenses, and was where the story of Abraham and Isaac occurred. Jerusalem would become where the Tent and Ark would now dwell.
As the nation grew and David and his people looked around at other growing nations or city states, David began to think, “Hmmm, maybe we need a great Temple to honor God as well as our nation.” That’s what all his neighbors had after all, so why not Israel? Well, through the Prophet Nathan, God basically says, “I was perfectly happy traveling with you in the wilderness within the Tent of Meeting. I don’t need a Temple…but if you do, ok.” God relents once again. Yet because of David’s sin and other faith issues, always still beloved by God, God decrees that the Temple will not be built until David’s son becomes the king. This is not too unlike Moses when he was not allowed to see the Promised Land. David never gets to see the Temple.
Finally, we arrive back to the glorious dedication of the Temple with Solomon. Seven years have passed since work began with a great financial cost, the investment of lots of sweat and toil, and like modern construction sites today, perhaps at the cost of some lives as well. That would be likely. Great excitement and joy must have been generated in the city as the Israelites prepared to move the Ark from Mount Zion to the neighboring Mount Moriah.
Again, today this location is known as the Temple Mount. All the religious and political leaders are there (the “insiders”), but all the commoners and less than common people are there too (the average people and the “outsiders”). All the people, no matter how rich or poor, weak or strong, perfect or imperfect, have been decaled the Holy People of God, so they are there. The covenant and promises made with Abraham, Moses, and other patriarchs include each and every one.
God will reside in the inner sanctum of the Temple, an area available only to Priests and hidden behind a large curtain. (This curtain will tear as Jesus dies. Some suggest this symbolizes the Kingdom breaking into our world through Jesus’ death and resurrection.) Golden cherubim located opposite one another over the Ark will sit with wings spread toward one another. This will continue to serve as God’s throne, his “mercy seat,” where God’s presence was said to dwell, and the ultimate God would mercifully deign to speak to and bless his Holy People. They must have thought that the Temple might last forever just like their God…but it didn’t. Babylon will invade Israel and destroy it. Cyrus the Persian will defeat the Babylonians and rebuild it. It will be defiled later by the Greeks and even later conquered by the Romans.
Then, Herod the Great, will be installed as a vassal king serving Rome, and he will look at the Temple and think in his pride, “We need better to reflect my glorious reign.” And as we know from scripture and historians of the time, he was not a great believer, but Herod the Great understood politics. His expansion of the Temple would beautify a place for faithful people to gather, but it was also a place to reflect his own glory as it becomes through its size and splendor a Wonder of the Ancient World.
Yes, Herod the Great’s work will become the Temple that Jesus and his Apostles would know and love. It will be the Temple the Apostles will marvel at before Jesus’ death because of the large and ornate stones. Yet Jesus would respond, “As for these things that you see, the days will come when not one stone will be left upon another; all will be thrown down” (Luke 21:5). Later, Jesus will declare that he will become our cornerstone (Luke 20:16-18). The Apostles and world will soon learn that life has never been about just nations or kings, tents or temples, sacrifice or worship. Jesus wanted to build a Church out of you and me and millions of others like us. Over the centuries as had happened with the Jewish People, what will matter most is that God comes again and again, despite our pride or mistakes, success or failures, to form us into one Holy People of God. We will stand together forever through God’s power, promises, and help.
And when the Temple is finally destroyed in 70 AD, and all that fine furnishings, holy vessels, and wealth were carried away by the Roman Legion to Rome, we see that Ecclesiastes was right. “All is vanity.” The earliest Christians finally came to understand promises of old in a new way. From Ezekiel we hear, “I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit in you; I will remove from you your heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh. And I will put my Spirit in you and move you to follow my decrees and be careful to keep my laws” (Ezekiel 36:26-27).
No temple, church building, or anything else is needed other than faith in Jesus. For through faith, we become a “living temple” where God has longed to reside. Yes, it was God’s plan all along. Just as a cloud filled the Temple, the Glory of the Lord hungers to fill us and overflow. It desires because of love for us to dwell in our hearts and make us one through God’s own Spirit.
As Professor Amy Oden suggests,[i] I think people do like to try to put God in one place…to restrain God and define God for their own advantage or comfort…or to limit or doubt the capacity for God to save (perhaps not always wittingly)…or maybe it is because they don’t yet fully trust God’s love or love God fully with their hearts. Despite human doubts and darkness, or any evil of this world, likely because of it, we are told the Spirit is on the move (Genesis 1:2, Acts 2:1-4). God is doing new things (Isaiah 43:19). And God guides and blesses us on our way as we move through valleys of darkness and the heights of joy (Psalm 23).
Certainly, temples can be destroyed. People and their congregations will die before Jesus returns. Yet, we are to always trust God’s great and steadfast love for us. For even as we stand between hope and despair, God becomes our bulwark defending the weak and helpless (Psalm 9:9, 12:5). “Nations are in uproar, kingdoms fall; [God] lifts his voice, the earth melts,” and yet, the God of Jacob proves our mighty fortress (Psalm 46:6-7, NIV translation).
Friends, we might not always feel like it, nor live up to it, but God has declared that we are the Holy People of God. We have become Christ’s body by our faith and baptism through grace alone. Whatever comes our way, through fire or pouring rain,[ii] as the Evil One devises any plans,[iii] we need not be shaken. Although our own strength might fail us, God never will.[iv] God’s love and mercy will see to it that the Holy People of God will stand eternally. Amen.
[i] Ogden, A.G. Commentary on 1 Kings 5:1-5; 8:1-13. Working Preacher.
[ii] Bethel Music. “We Will Not Be Shaken (Live).” We Will Not Be Shaken, Bethel Music, 2015.
[iii] The Imperials. “Let the Wind Blow.” Let the Wind Blow, Myrrh/Word Records, 1985
[iv] Martin Luther, “Ein feste Burg ist unser Gott.” 1529.
Image: VMI Cadets on House Mountain, from House Mountain Reserve and the Virginia Military Institute. They retain all rights.The words below are my own, and do not reflect the views of these or any other entities or persons.
The below sermon was preached on the Sixteenth Sunday After Pentecost, September 28, 2025, following the Narrative Lectionary (Year 4). The preaching text isExodus 2:23-25; 3:1-15; 4:10-17:
Thirty-nine years ago, among a crucible of challenges faced as I began to attend the Virginia Military Institute, New Cadets (nicknamed “Rats” for their lowly position at the school) were “invited” to hike up House Mountain. This mountain is a beautiful mountain indeed shaped a bit like a house, and it reaches about 3600 feet in elevation. It stands uniquely alone in the skyline, a bit separate from the other mountains of the Shenandoah Valley, and it is clearly visible from the Institute.
This annual event made the mountain a bit like holy ground for us. The forced march, a very fast one, up a very steep and fatiguing incline, was a tool used to bind us closer together. On the way, New Cadets were not only expected to challenge themselves individually, but they were also to help and encourage one another on the way – carrying their “Brother Rats” if necessary. And once the arduous climb to the top is done, you look around at the beautiful expanse of the valley below you, and you feel pride for your accomplishment, but also a deeper connection to those around you and to those who came before. Dare I say that you get the sense that you find yourself in a kind of sacred space and time. To this day, whenever I drive up and down route 81 and see that mountain, I remember the importance of that cherished experience.
There’s something empowering about mountaintop experiences. Sure, the climb can be challenging and the view spectacular, but I find that I often get the sense that amidst my smallness, I am part of something greater than myself. Throughout history, mountaintops have been used for signal fires, monuments, and just a place to see the scenery, but they also have been used for religious rituals and prayer. They have often proved the site of important spiritual awakenings or experiences for people throughout time and across cultures. This is much as the Lakota and Cheyanne look at Bear Butte in South Dakota as a sacred site…praying on and around the mountain, performing rituals or leaving sacred offerings at the top. We might come to understand why the “high places” so often referred to in the Bible were outdoor religious sites on mountaintops. Where was Abraham to sacrifice Isaac?[i] It was to be on a mountaintop, much as the pagan religions around him sacrificed their children. When we lift our eyes to the hills (to the mountains or high places), from whence does our help come from?[ii] God is the answer, for God has dominion over the high places. El Shaddai is one of the names for God used in Jerusalem meaning “God Almighty.” In the most ancient times, it appears that among what would become the Jewish people (as with other peoples around them), the gods were often associated with peoples and places, especially mountains. And in the Akkadian language, the earliest known Semitic language, the root of Shaddi – shadû – means “mountain.” Some suggest that El Shaddai conceives of our God as holding dominion over their regional high places.
Therefore, I don’t think it should surprise us that Moses’ own call story takes place on such heights. Indeed, it was already thought to be sacred ground, “the Mountain of God.” It was a place said to be where God rested at times, but it was to become a place where Moses’ life and the life of his people would be changed forever. Though, it really isn’t the ground or the elevation that’s key to this story. It is the relationship forged between Moses and his God that truly matters. Within our text, we can see a number of ancient hints for this. For example, Moses takes off his shoes to approach the burning bush. That’s an ancient sign of respect. Through the outward sign of humbling oneself, one is reflecting an inward sign of reverence and worship. For God’s part, God calls Moses forward while reminding Moses of past powerful relationships, “I am the God of your father, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob.” The three covenants or promises made by God to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob – three being itself a symbol of perfection and fullness in Judaism – still hold. God broke into these lives with the intention of changing the course of history, and that remains God’s will. With this mountaintop experience, God intends to break into and claim Moses’ life so that he can be used for a sacred purpose. We are witnessing what is known as a call story.
And in the face of such power (as displayed by a burning bush which really didn’t burn), Moses turned away. Ancient peoples believed that if a mortal was to look upon such immortal power, one would die. Instead of destroying Moses, God chooses to be humble and approachable. God offers Moses a sign of friendship…a name, “I am who I am.” In ancient cultures through the indigenous cultures of today, a person’s name is deemed sacred. It is thought to have a kind of force. Yes, it might identify one’s heritage or family, or represent what they have experienced or hope to accomplish in life, but it commonly was believed (and in some cultures is still believed) to give one person power over another. That is why one usually blesses or curses using a name in most traditional cultures, and the ancient Jews refrained from using the Lord’s specific name for a fearful respect of the power it represents and could unleash. This Jewish traditions is captured in our modern bibles when you see LORD (in all capital letters) in lieu of speaking God’s name. We even baptize in the name of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, but also officially give infants a name. We are said to Christen them.
Through this account, we are witnessing something extraordinary. Our perfect Almighty God from on high comes down to meet Moses (and us) as imperfect as humans are. Unlike other gods, our God is not distant and uncaring. God hears the groaning of God’s people and acts when the time was right. This is just as we are told later – Jesus came when the time was right (Galatians 4:4-5). It is still that way as Paul writes, “Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness, for we do not know how to pray as we ought, but that very Spirit intercedes with groanings too deep for words” (Romans 8:26).
Yes, this powerful yet merciful god was calling a very ordinary, imperfect human to do great things. Still as many humans do…all humans at times…Moses resisted. He doubts instead of trusts. No wonder God gets angry? I think of Jesus, too, who was so often frustrated by his disciples’ unwillingness to trust him no matter how many miracles were performed. Yet to be fair, Moses by many human standards was a very unlikely prophet. Remember, Moses descended from a lowly people, slaves. He was a murderer, killing an Egyptian slave master. Moses was only a poor shepherd with an adopted family and home. He had no great family name or social status. Significantly, Moses apparently had a speech impediment. As Professor Fretheim of Luther Seminary in St. Paul wrote, “Moses raises sharp objections to God regarding this calling. One could name a total of eight objections on Moses’ part, ranging from issues of competence to knowledge to the nature of the situation and the kind of people (and God!) involved.”[iii]
In this very dynamic back and forth of confrontation met by assurance, God basically reminds Moses by word and deed…as God will do throughout the entire cycle of the Exodus story over and over again…“I am with you…I am your God…I am yours, and you are mine.” Where Moses is so hesitant to give of himself, God offers the divine-self to Moses. As Moses seeks to trust and move forward, than trust and move forward a bit more…trust grows…a heart of faith based on a personal relationship with God begins to flourish. Our God is willing to be present in Moses’ life and work through it…that’s what gave his life and our lives true meaning…that’s what makes an ordinary human extraordinary.
Eventually, Moses will prove to be one of the greatest of God’s prophets. No, he will never be perfect. Just like us, Moses will struggle to trust at times, and with his people, grumble or drag his feet. Yet in the end, Moses will walk on in trust…step by step into the unknown but seeking to trust the god revealed to him. This revealed and now known god, our God, is with him. It is God that gives Moses his vision…a vision that directs Moses’ life through many adversities in order to help his faith grow and bless others.
Yet again, it isn’t the high ground, or Moses, or his staff who has the power and glory…it is God alone. Despite any of Moses’ flaws or hesitation, even his sin, God wants to work through Moses and with Moses to change the world. Much as with Moses, God wishes to interact with us…to enter a powerful, personal relationship with us. Yes, we can confess our weaknesses to God. We can speak of our faults or fears…even our doubts. Yet, we can’t let them shape our lives. It’s God’s presence and promise that matters.
Through our faith and baptism, God is always with us…truly with us. And by Christ’s death and resurrection…through the Holy Spirit (reflecting the power of Pentecost)…we have an ongoing, intimate, most powerful and lifechanging access to God in ways that Moses did not. True, we might never prove to be an Abraham, Isaac, or Jacob, but we are their descendants through our shared faith. We may never be a great prophet like Moses. As recent days remind us, we can surely be a lowly, sinful people. Yet, God still claims us and is with us. At any time, where we walk might become like holy ground for us as we sense God’s presence more clearly, feel the holy communion with Christ’s Church more dearly, or sense the Spirit’s call to love, forgive, and serve others and our world. [This is much as St. Richard of Chichester, (c. 1197–1253), prayed: O most merciful redeemer, friend and brother, may I know thee more clearly, love thee more dearly, and follow thee more nearly, day by day. Amen.]
In response to such an invitation, we should seek to answer our unique call from God. This might in the end be just to do small but hard and necessary things within the sphere of influence where we have been planted – helping as we can, loving and forgiving with God’s help, being patient and gracious toward others, maybe not saving the world but just saving or positively shaping or redirecting even just one life that we come in contact with. God can use us in that way to change the world, too.[iv]
Indeed, we are used by God daily…aware of it or not…when we just try to love as we have been loved by God. For through this messy, stressful, frightening life, God is leading us together toward the highest ground…an eternal life to be shared with the one revealed to Moses as “I am who I am,” and comes to us as Jesus and the Holy Spirit. Amen.
[iv] There is an ancient Jewish precept, “Whoever saves one life is considered as if he saved an entire world.” This highlights the infinite value of each life and our interconnectedness.
If you would like to listen to the above sermon or watch our service, the video can be found below. The sermon begins at about the 11:14 minute mark.
The “Stunads all of you” t-shirt can be found at Paisano Prints.
Often as we hear the parables of the lost sheep, the lost coin, and what some might also call the parable of the lost son (better known as the Prodigal Son), they might often be broken up and addressed as individual teaching stories. Yet the Narrative Lectionary (our assigned readings) that we are using right now intentionally challenges us to look at them differently. How might we see something new or hear something different if these parables are lumped together?
The lost sheep, the lost coin, the lost son…just naming the parables in that way starts us to see a sacred thread of meaning woven within them. The lead up to this “unit” of scripture is Jesus with his face set toward Jerusalem. He is going there to suffer and die for all people…all people…to draw them to himself. As he goes, he heals people, dines with others, and this all becomes a time for teaching. He speaks to crowds again and again as they follow him as well as smaller groups around tables, banquets of sorts in his honor. Most often, he does so in parables or teaching stories.
Often these three stories are interpreted in a very personal, grace-filled way. We see ourselves as sinners struggling, and our Savior, the Light of the world, comes to us as the lost sheep, lost coin, or lost son in our darkness. And that’s a true and worthy interpretation. We are all sinners, some historically on a grander scale than others, but all of us are addicted to sin. We cannot help ourselves, and all sin separates us from the love of God, one another, and even the “true self” (the person) that God hopes for us to become. We need salvation! We need a savior to find us and bring us home.
I know this is a very common interpretation from the many commentaries that I have read, but also the personal stories that I have heard shared at Bible studies over the years. And even as a young person, someone who felt like an outsider, I often related well to this understanding of the stories. For it remains true, that God loves us and was willing to do anything for us, even die on a cross, so that we might come to understand and live in that love that’s being offered us. God’s greatest treasure is you, and you have been sought out, and waited for patiently, and run too to be embraced, so that you and all who believe might come to understand this great, sacred, life-giving love is for us.
Still, these are parables, right? These are a teaching method of Christ’s time meant to challenge the student, inviting us to wrestle. There’s no one meaning to a parable…not necessarily one best meaning. It can speak to us over and over again as we move forward in life and learning. So this morning, I want to suggest that we might like to look at the placement of this story more closely as a start.
Before today’s scene, Jesus has just spoken about humility and hospitality. These are meant to be great Christian virtues and an ongoing, embodied attitude in our daily lives. He then shares a parable of a great banquet. The invited guests made excuses – concerns about wealth, property, and family – and they refused to come. So, more are invited that do come, but there is still room. So, the master says to the slave, “Go out into the roads and lanes, and compel people to come in, so that my house may be filled” (Luke 14:15-24).
Then, Jesus speaks once again about the cost of discipleship. “Whoever comes to me and does not hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, yes, and even life itself, cannot be my disciple. Whoever does not carry the cross and follow me cannot be my disciple.” He has mentioned such things before in Luke, but here it is a bit different. Taking up the cross requires all kinds of sacrifices and costs, not just literal death. He’s asking the crowds if they are ready to give up all they possess – family, friends, wealth, reputation – to do what is right and follow him. Yes, we might even have to give up our long-held expectations and assumptions about others who Jesus is calling…even those who might be our traditional enemies. That’s a kind of surrender too, a cross bearing of sorts.
And then we come to yet another dinner, today’s passage. Who gathers near to him? It is the tax collectors and sinners. They gather near while the Pharisees and scribes are stand offish. “This fellow welcomes sinners and eats with them,” that’s what the proud grumble. There’s that theme again – invitation, hospitality, giving up predispositions and long held expectation in order to welcome others. Ahh, now that gives us something to think about. What if we are not just the lost, but also like the Pharisees and scribes in these stories?
In the parable of the lost sheep, the shepherd abandons everything to seek out the lost one. In the parable of the lost coin, the woman does everything to seek for her treasure – little though it might seem. In the parable of the lost son, it is true the father waits for his son’s return, loving him from afar as the son wonders aimlessly. Yet, the father sees him approaching home because he never stopped looking for him to come home. With every glimpse at the horizon, the father would wonder where his son was and actively, hopefully scanned for his return. And what about the faithful son – the son who served seemingly without much thanks (at least in his own mind)? He has no room for welcome in his heart. He cannot even call the other man his brother. He says, “That’s your son…that son of yours…nothing to do with me.” He is too concerned about himself and his own status when he should see that his brother’s needs just might be greater than his own.
Now if we reflect, we’ve seen such stubbornness before in others in scriptural passages. We might sometimes see it in ourselves. You might know that on March 19th, it was St. Joseph’s Day, a traditional Italian celebration like St. Patrick’s Day, but a lot more pastry. I’m part Italian, so on that day, I saw an advertisement on social media targeting me. I saw a t-shirt for sale that had Jesus looking downward in sadness and beneath him were the words, “Stunads,all of you.” Stunads is an Italian American phrase (slang) that means “stupid.” “Stupid people, all of you!” Jesus on the t-shirt is perhaps with disbelief, saying, “Stupid, all of you.” Jesus in sadness, frustration, and dismay is confessing on that t-shirt that he is disappointed with us. We’ve let him down. It is an Italian American company that makes that shirt, but perhaps they are secretly Lutheran or Calvinist. For we, too, are supposed to recognize that we are stupid. We are selfish and we sin because we don’t see the big picture. We need help for that, forgiveness for that.
It might be shocking to some to see such an image and read those words, but this is not much different than John the Baptist. Remember what he called those who should know better but are resistant to his invitation and judgmental of others? He calls them a brood of vipers. It is reminiscent of Jesus own frequent words of grief, “you of little faith.” “You’ve disappointed me.” Humans have been stiff necked and tribal since before God said to Moses, “Go and tell the children of Israel that they are stiff necked people”…In Hebrew, that means they are haughty, stubborn, obstinate, churlish, severe, hard hearted, and harsh. We are stunads…stupid people bent inward upon ourselves as Luther says…lost in our depravity as Calvin says…always, always, we are bondage to sin…Sin impacts our decisions and the way we look at others in the world, and we need help. We are stupid and blind in our sin; thinking we are better and more self-sufficient than we are.
At about that same time, a friend of mine came across a quote from Penn Jillette, of the popular magicians, Penn and Teller. He is a well-known atheist who reflected upon someone’s attempt to share about Jesus with him. Penn insisted that he was not upset. He was touched. He said, “If you believe there is a heaven and hell, and you think it’s not worth telling someone about it because it would make it socially awkward, how much do you have to hate [that person] to not proselytize?” If this is true, than why are you hiding this truth from others. “To believe that everlasting life is possible and not tell people?” he asks, “This man cared enough about me to proselytize.” And that touched his heart.
My friend reading these words felt convicted, and although not a pastor or priest or church leader of any kind, he mustered these deep and meaningful words of faith, a confession and a hope: “This hits hard. I’m reminded of opportunities I’ve had to speak on this issue and passed. Because I’m all too aware of my own failures. But it’s not about me. It’s about Jesus. Who is the Son of God. Who died for our sins and rose again. There will one day be judgement for our choice of accepting Jesus or not.”
What if through such parables Jesus is speaking to both the believing sinner and the Pharisee that’s within each of us – the imperfect saint and overconfident, judgmental sinner? Within scripture, we see some Pharisees and other religious leaders rebuked because they judge. In their mind, the sinner is too far gone. They’ve lost any value. They aren’t worth seeking for, nor talking too. They are a little bit concerned about their reputation as well. In the light of Jesus’ teaching and actions what an immense failure. Stunads…stupid people.
My friend saw his failure…owned it…but he knew that grace meant it was not too late to give that sin to Jesus, receive forgiveness, and share the story of Jesus as best as he could…no theology degree…despite concerns for what others might say…but only shared because at some level he knew he was a sinner too. And, that grace helped him. Who better to speak of Christ’s love and salvation than one who knows his grace intimately…even when they might not understand it perfectly in its mechanics. (We will someday when we see Jesus face to face, but we don’t right now.)
God’s love, justice, and righteousness is so very different from the world’s. A small thing, a simple person can bring great joy to God. A child can speak with deep and divine wisdom. Meanwhile, the world looks for bells and whistles, and entertainment, huge miracles, and happy, shiny, seemingly perfect people to lead them. In arrogance, they can look at the small, simple, messy, and childlike as fools without worth. That aren’t worthy of going after…or looking for…or talking to. There’s a tension here. Something’s wrong, and it is called sin.
A favorite author of mine, Philip Yancey, once wrote, “Life is not fair, but God’s grace is not fair either.” We are asked by Jesus to not get in the way of those who wish to come near to him and listen. Better yet, we are to look for those outside the Church – those struggling, filled with doubt and questions, alone, forgotten, or perhaps strange to us in other ways…yet invite them to the banquet to experience Christ’s love and forgiveness without delay. After all, it is not really our love and forgiveness. It was gifted to us underserved and for free when Jesus died and rose again for our sake and the sake of all people. Amen.
If you would like to hear my sermon or watch our service, the video can be found below. The Gospel text and sermon begins at about the 17 minute mark.The preaching text is Luke 15:1-32.
The below sermon was offered at Christ Lutheran Church in Fredericksburg on February 23, 2025. It proved a difficult sermon for me to preach on several levels, but it was received extraordinarily well by people I know as left, right, and in between. I don’t post all my sermons, but based on that response and the many people that I have already spoken with because of my sermon at our two services, I suspect it might resonate with many others as well. So, here I post. I hope it somehow blesses you. If you prefer to listen to the sermon, a recording of our worship service follows the below text.
The woman that we meet today in Luke’s account proves a bit of a mystery, and everything about this meeting seems a bit unorthodox for that day. Here, we have an unescorted, unnamed woman of low rank and reputation barging into a high-ranking citizen’s home, a rabbi’s home, to approach a great religious teacher, Jesus. Then, she unceremoniously baths his feet in perfumed oils and her tears…drying them with her hair…kissing the feet that Peter would later say he was unfit to wash. How dare she presume such a scandalous interaction?
Well, she does so because she is thankful beyond words. Jesus commends her and identifies her actions as a sign of her gratitude for being forgiven of many sins…many sins…potentially very grave and serious sins…yet sins which are never explicitly named in Luke…any more than the woman herself.[i]
As I have shared before, when I was a teen and young adult, I often felt unlovable and unworthy. I imagined my sins were too great even for the power of the cross. So, as I came back into the Church, finally trusting in the forgiveness of all my sins, it proved easy for me to imagine myself in the place of that woman. Thinking of it, I can still experience a joy that can bring me to tears at times.
This realization of forgiveness changed the direction of my life, but I had much still to learn. You see, I could still play the part of the Pharisee. Sure, I finally trusted Jesus’ promises, and it had changed my life in remarkable ways…ways that others even began to notice. Yet, notwithstanding Paul’s encouragement to forgive one another, as God in Christ forgave us (Ephesians 4:32), it proved terribly hard to put forgiveness into practice.
I had been through a lot of traumatic experiences in my family of origin. I have experienced much trauma later through my police service. Such wounds of the world can last. The sin and unfairness we face can warp the way we look at ourselves and others. Despite my best intentions, I could judge people harshly. I could objectify them. I still could return hatred for the hate that I encountered on patrol, because I was prone to only see the sin and not the struggling, wounded person underneath…a person who through grace could be forgiven by Jesus too.
This past week on social media, I expressed to a friend that I was really concerned with the immediate cessation of all aid overseas. I suggested that perhaps some people who urgently needed help might suffer and die. A person unknown to me chimed in, “I chalk that up to [stuff] happens.” (Now, he used a different word than stuff, but we are in church.) Stuff happens? Well, my first response was, yes, stuff does happen to the just and the unjust alike just as Jesus taught (Matthew 5:45). That’s partly why God calls us to care for one another, because stuff happens.
I came across others who called government workers vermin and parasites. And yet although some government workers might fail in their duties, I look around here in this sanctuary, seeing current and past government workers that I know well, and I see people who are nothing of the kind. They are people who work hard and honorably. I don’t see vermin… I don’t see parasites, no matter any failings that might have…No matter any failings, I see Children of God, imperfect but loved siblings in Christ whom I must love…who I do love.
Then, I encountered others who thought anyone who supported the President at any level must be white trash and racist, ignorant or cruel…perhaps even a Nazi. And yet I see people here that I know have voted for president Trump…who are supportive of some of his policies…and I know them differently. They are nothing of the kind. These people are prone to generosity and love, who just want what they think is best for their country, and so they voted that way. No matter any failings, I see Children of God, imperfect but loved siblings in Christ whom I must love…who I do love.
You know…y’all are messed up! …We are all messed up in our own way. And yet I love you…and I hope that comes across…I love you. And I hope you can love the mess that is me. For, we are only human even at our best. We fail often. We can be selfish or shortsighted, and we always need one another’s love and forgiveness. We can also just be plain and blindly wrong at times.
Yet as tribal, sinful humans, we can be awful to one another…truly, abysmally awful. We can close off our hearts…And those we should love, we push away…We judge…We coldly condemn…We see evil, but we fail to see evil at work within our own hearts. And those who hate us, we might tend to hate all the more. This might surprise many in the world, but we can actually say we think someone or something is wrong without hating or objectifying. In fact, the Bible says for us to defeat evil with good (Romans 12:21), not with name calling or insulting memes.
Not doing good with our words and actions can have unintended, deadly consequences. For with such sin, as Luther teaches, we can become murderers killing peace, relationships, and in some cases, killing the spirit of others. This sin is like a disease that can spread from person to person. Perhaps this is partly why an eleven-year-old girl died by suicide in Texas after being taunted over her immigration status by other children. We can become murderers, Luther argues, through the simmering anger, hatred, and contempt hidden in our hearts, and others like our children might just pick up on that and go further than we ever intended.
So, Luther states passionately in his Large Catechism, that “Thou shall not murder” goes way beyond actually stabbing someone. “God wishes,” he writes, “to remove the root and source by which the heart is embittered against our neighbor…[urging us] to commit to [God] the wrong which we suffer. Thus, we shall [put up with] our enemies to rage and be angry, doing what they can, and we learn to calm our [own] wrath, and to have a patient, gentle heart, especially toward those who give us cause to be angry, that is, our enemies.”
Thus, this week, I thought of my own hard and terrible lesson about this sin that works within me. As a police officer in the 1980s and 1990s, I told you before that my heart had grown hard. I was on bicycle patrol one night with my partner and close friend, Willie, when a burglary of an athletic store occurred. The thieves had gone through the roof, stole a lot, and they had successfully gotten away. Hours later in the early morning…hours before any commuters had awoken…Willie and I saw a young male walking with an athletic bag. His clothes were covered in black pitch and tar, and the bag was stuffed to the brim with items. In the context of the recent theft, this seemed like reasonable suspicion for a stop.
Yet soon after we began to speak to him, the suspect got nervous and began to fight us with all his might. He was big. He was strong…very strong…and it took all we had to try to contain and restrain him. And during the fight, the suspect reached for my weapon and tried to wrench my weapon multiple times out of its holster violently. I was fighting with all my might to keep control of it. It came to my mind that if I lost this fight I might die. (I can remember this moment so unbelievably clearly.)
He broke away almost as quickly as he had begun to attack us, and a pursuit by foot and bicycle began. We had already called a Signal 13 which in Alexandra meant an officer was in dire trouble, and units were screaming their way toward us from all over the city. As we sought to cut off and corner the man, Willie and I were separated during the chase, and in the midst of the pursuit my radio went dead just as a large bang could be heard echoing through the darkness. (I remember that clearly too.) A friend told me later that with no one able to reach me, he feared that I had been shot and killed.
So, it was chaos. There was adrenaline pumping, and there was fear. And there was righteous anger, too. After all, he was a thief. He had fought the police. He had even fought for my gun likely to use it against us. This man was caught hiding in a dumpster. (That was the loud bang that people heard.) Yet to arrest him, a police K9 had to be deployed. And as the man fought more and more, the dog bit him more and more…He was damaged pretty badly…until he submitted.
So when I came up to the group, there he was, my enemy, on the pavement in cuffs, profusely bleeding and waiting for an ambulance. He was in pain…that’s for sure…but what I remember very clearly was looking at his eyes and seeing a lot of anger and hatred. (A look that I will not forget…a lot of hatred.) And as I surveyed him in all his suffering, I thought in the depths of my heart, “Good. I am glad he is hurt. He deserves to suffer. He deserves to die. He is trash.” I am ashamed to say it. It is ugly, but it is true. I would have been happy in that time of my anger if he had died.
Yet it was at that very moment, like a voice in my head, I heard the words, “How can you condemn him, after all that I have forgiven you? He could be with you in heaven someday.” Whether that voice was the Spirit of God, or my mind’s synapses had finally made a new but powerful connection between scripture and my life[ii]…I knew I was a murderer…a sinner…a person who must repent. And although I know that the use of force was necessary, and the arrest was ultimately for the community and even the man’s safety (stopping him from harming himself and others more), my heart immediately softened. I saw myself in him, and I began to have compassion for him…to love him…wanting him to have the love and forgiveness that I had myself received. Now, this did not mean that I regretted any consequences for him that he faced. (Consequences can be necessary or unavoidable.) Yet, I recognized that more was going on in that situation…something eternal.
Years later, I have no idea what became of this man, but I still pray for him when he comes to mind. And he often does whenever I struggle to forgive someone, or whenever I start to objectify someone, or whenever I call someone a jerk. I catch myself thinking of that moment and of him. This was a life-changing event for me. It is one still difficult to share, especially in the context of what happened in Virginia Beach this past week.[iii] But it is also difficult to share because I am ashamed of my sin. And yet at this time, where people are failing in love so often and to such a great extent, painting groups of people with a broad brushstrokes with little or no discernment of their unique differences or situations, I see so many strong parallels.
You likely have seen it or experienced it yourselves. We tend cut off from one another in judgement and hate…where an adult child might not wish to speak to a parent due to disagreements over hot button political issues of our day. And after arguments, longtime friendships have died. I thought it important to confess my sin once again…this time to you. To acknowledge that I struggle at times to resist becoming the Pharisee of this tale, the one saying, “Doesn’t Jesus know who these people are, these sinners?”
Why, yes…yes, he does. They are the people he has come to love and save. Jesus taught us in his Beatitudes, as children of the Kingdom of God, saved-sinners, that we must love our neighbor as ourselves, even our enemies. In fact, Jesus had just shared the Beatitudes in Luke’s account immediately before this dinner. As with the women in Luke, it might seem sometimes a mystery how others have found themselves struggling in sin or on another political side opposed to us. Yet the mystery of Jesus’ suffering, death, and resurrection for our sake, for all of us, points us only toward love for those whom we might otherwise judge without mercy or objectify.
My brothers and sisters, we live in a time of trouble. There are wars and rumors of wars – but not just overseas. These wars are happening in our communities, congregations, and within our families. People are turning against the ones they should love, forgive, and be gentle toward, and in their hearts, they start to think of others as trash…disposable. Our hearts have divided allegiances between Jesus’ way and the world’s way.
Yet, we who have been forgiven so much need not give in to the malevolent spirit of these times. By God’s help, whatever others say or do, we can be moved by the Holy Spirit toward patience, compassion, and forgiveness for those who might not deserve it in the eyes of the world. We can seek to protect and speak up for those who are maligned, objectified, or threatened even when those people are wrong. For we have been forgiven all our sin, because of what Christ suffered on the cross and nothing else…proving that no one is trash to Jesus, including you or me. Amen.
[i] Jane Schaberg, “Luke,” The Women’s Bible Commentary, ed. Carol A. Newsome and Sharon H. Ringe (SPCK, 1992), p. 285-286.
[ii] I know what I believe, that it was a theophany of sorts, but I will leave it up to you to decide for yourselves.
[iii] Two Virginia Beach Police officers died after being shot during a traffic stop the Friday night (February 21, 2025) before this sermon was delivered. The sermon was already written, but many police friends and I had been reflecting how such a loss impacted us. Losses from our own departments came back to haunt us. I lost four colleagues during my six years as an officer – two from being shot, one from suicide, and one from a unknown, preexisting heart condition after a foot pursuit. The death of any officer resonates through the police community plus their families in a way hard to describe. The grief sticks with us for the rest of our lives.
I am not sure of the original source of the above artwork. I found it at the Holy Smack blog. If you know the artist, please let me know. I’d like to give proper attribution.
If you would like to hear my sermon or watch our service, the video can be found below. The Gospel text and sermon begins at about the 17 minute mark.
The below sermon was offered at Christ Lutheran Church in Fredericksburg on February 2, 2025. It is definitely much longer than my normal sermon, because the topic was immediate, adjusted last minute to a high profile current event on the fly, and about an issue prone to nurture strong disagreement. Although our denomination, the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America leans politically liberal, multiple surveys suggest that the membership leans toward the center. Indeed at this congregation, we have strong supporters for President Trump and those adamantly against him. This sermon was intentionally crafted so that all people could hear and reflect about these things without shutting down. Maybe it would spark conversation? I cannot change Elon Musk’s mind with my sermon, but I might be able to help my congregation see things in a new way.
In my time with Brother Roger and his community in France, the Ecumenical Community of Taizé, we often had people come who lived in severe conflict with one another in their home country or region. How can we speak to one another with open hearts if we call one another names or shut down? So in small groups, people were asked to share their experiences of faith, but not in a way of debate or even to convince. Listen for the Spirit in what others say. I also learned and came to believe that the Spirit is calling all people and within them even before they might realize it. We should treat them with respect, even if we struggle to like them or do not approve of what they do or say.
This was modeled in Brother Roger’s own history. Before the community formed, he risked his life to help Jews escape persecution in France. As a result, he was narrowly escaped arrest by the Gestapo. After the war, he offered care and hospitality to German prisoners returning home. This was not popular with some of his French neighbors who had suffered so much and were rightfully angry. And living in one of the most Communist areas of post-war France, amidst people who sometimes overtly hated Christ and his Church, he and his brothers helped their neighbors no matter their political leanings. They even were able to start food cooperatives which benefitted all. In time, authentic love at work in his life and the lives of other brothers earned trust and effected change. This witness has impacted the way I try to address conflicts of our day and in my life. It shows in this sermon.
Some pastors and others will likely say I did not go far enough to condemn or fight what they perceive as evil. (They might be right. At the very least, it is a mistake to have stripped the funding in the way it was done – too carelessly and with false accusations – likely a sin, certainly a shame despite any intentions.) Yet, like the brothers, I feel a profound call to try to live as an agent of reconciliation. (See 2 Corinthians 5:17-20.) If we wait for people to be perfect before we seek to reconcile, reconciliation will never happen. In reconciling, sometimes people change or see their wrongs more clearly. It proves a give and take process, requiring ongoing forgiveness and patience along with self-awareness.
Further, this sermon was shared with people whom I know well and deeply love. Sometimes a pastor can do more good using the gentle nudging of a staff rather than the full force of a rod. And I take Jesus’ mandate for us to love one another very seriously. I want my congregation to as well. I think this approach might prove the same for you in your relationships even if not a pastor.
The text of my sermon follows, but I will also include the YouTube link at the bottom of this post if you prefer to watch all or part of the service. I have tried to adjust the original manuscript to better reflect what was said balanced with clarity. Is a sermon ever truly done? I am confident I will write or speak more about what appears to be bad policy if not illegal as it impacts a nonprofit I know to be honorable. This is only a start of a conversation.
It has been a stressful 2025 for many of us. There’s a lot going on in the world – wars and pestilence – but there’s been a lot of change, too. Whether you like change or not, whether good or bad, our recent political changes are still change. And as any health practitioner will tell you, “Even good changes can leave you feeling drained, out of control, and depressed.”[i] And as our national administration does change things, we have seen many fast and furious changes making some neighbors of ours worried about the security of their jobs, what might happen to their medical aid, or even the legality of their marriage. And much as it was when I lived along the Arizona border while in the Army, a lot of people are rightly afraid of some of the violence or other negative issues that can come with unbridled, unsecured immigration, and perhaps at the same time, we might be concerned about our friend, or neighbor, or fellow employee, or fellow student who has a questionable immigration status – someone that might have been here for many years, who is a good worker and kind neighbor, but at risk because of past choices they made. (Or maybe, adult relatives made a choice for them.) And I know of friends that have already had their adult child lose their government job suddenly as a result of different government priorities. It happens. My uncle used to be an executive with Lincoln-Mercury, and he had to lay people off at times… regrettable, difficult, but it happens.
Yet coming in this morning (I’m going off text now, so hang in there), I saw a tweet from Elon Musk, and it talked about “the Lutherans.” Oooo, that tweaked my attention. Basically, he was complaining about all the money going to Lutheran parachurch organizations for their social services. Yet, he never explained what this money went for. His main concern was probably immigration, because there are elements that do help with refugees and other immigrants including our allies from Afghanistan. (Some of these live right here in Fredericksburg.) Yet, he lumped all the services together. The thing that I would like you to know…that I know because I used to be on the board of Lutheran Family Services of Virginia (now enCircle)…is that Lutheran Services of America, the overarching organization (which is kind of like the United Way) helps one in fifty Americans with all different kind of things. (This is a correction from the recording. I said, “one in five,” in error. Still, this is a staggering, impressive number.)
And so, when you look at a group like Lutheran Family Services of Virginia (now enCircle), they have some programs that help refugees and immigrants, but they also facilitate adoption and foster care. They help with counseling services which some people in our community have taken advantage of. They help with schools for at-risk youth. They have helped with kids who are on the spectrum. They helped with elder care. They have houses for folks with intellectual disabilities and help them live independently or in community. So, there are a lot of things that go into these nonprofits…these parachurch organizations (started by the Church, but not the Church). And they receive grants from the government, yes, but also from industry and other nonprofit funds, and then, they get funding from good people like you who donate in support of what they do. Yet as funding streams change, so does their ministry or outreach. Even in the nine years that I was a board member, Lutheran Family Services did that.
And so, funding streams are changing because political priorities are changing. And that really is “fair,” right? That’s the way our government works. That’s the way the world works. Yet, I do hope that we are concerned that with doing things quickly…lumping all things together…that maybe, some people will be left behind or hurt unintentionally. And that, I think, is something that we can certainly speak about as Christians. We want to do things “smart.” We want to do things in a way that doesn’t hurt others and make things worse.
So, with all these political changes, right or wrong (as you see them), good or bad (as time will tell), I hope we can recognize that this is a stressful time for many people. During this period of change, mistakes might be made, and there are things people will have to adjust to, but some people might even be afraid. (Whether you understand why or not, they might be afraid.) And that is no secret. You can just look at social media posts and see that. Yet, whenever we strive for justice and peace, to do the right thing, whether left or right in our political leanings, we as Christians are supposed to approach others empathetically…care for them…offering mercy and help as we can (as all the prophets say)…forgiving when they make mistakes…and try to love and help them as they are…even as we see them as totally wrong, or sinful, or whatever the problem may be. Even when I was a police officer, long ago in the 80s and 90s, and I would arrest people…one of the things I learned as I came back into the Church again…started to really believe this Jesus stuff was true…one of the big challenges I had as I arrested people for violations that were serious remained: How do I treat this arrestee as a human? Do justice, but how do I show mercy in the way I relate to them. That’s a kind of love and a kind of Christian witness, too. So, I know it is hard…but with God’s help, we can do it. We can do it and change becomes possible.
These are all huge issues that we are talking about nationally and locally…important issues! You should care! And I am not going to tell you today how to vote or think. I am not going to dissect policies or waste your time during this sermon pointing fingers at those “bad people.” You can fill in the blank for who those bad people are. Yet, I do believe today’s sacred stories perhaps ask us not to point at others, but instead, maybe point at ourselves. Where am I in all of this? What am I doing or failing to do? These stories lend themselves to discernment. Are we responding from our faith, hope, and love as we should, or are maybe some other influences…even sin…are affecting our decisions? This comes up with issues of religiosity (how we behave in church, how we live our faith), politics, or any other areas of our lives. Are we responding in faith, or is something else guiding us? So, we can always do better whoever we are, because none of us are perfect in our ability to love…ever.
In fact, our friend Martin Luther always sought to remind us that we can be sure that we are absolutely, positively not perfect. You and I are a mess. Selfishness, shortsightedness, and other sin can always creep in to blind us, to trick us, so that we start to call bad something good. In fact, he argued that really, we don’t truly have free will. We think that we do, but we don’t, because sin is so powerful that even when we do our best, what we do is always tainted…always. We remain fallen creatures even if are saved; sinner-saints all.
And so much like the days of old, theological and political debates can happen, and they can merge into hot button issues of our day. Thus, we must ask ourselves, how should we act? What are the right standards to maintain? How do we uphold justice while trying to be merciful at the same time? And faithful people, “good people,” end up all over the political spectrum. And why is that? Because they are applying their experiences, their knowledge, the wisdom God has given them, but in the end, it is all coming through and from a human being. So, we come to different conclusions. (Sometimes these are very wrong conclusions.) And so, that begs us to try to treat each other with a great amount of compassion or patience. We are only human. And only God perhaps knows the best and perfect answer for any situation you can come up with. We are like beggars that can only reach out for grace-filled guidance and commit to try to do our best in striving to be like Jesus…yet also always ready to repent…and always ready to forgive.
Certainly, one side of any human argument might be closer to God’s truth than the other, but in humility…recognizing our own human fallibility…perhaps we should not be so quick to think that we are totally, infallibly correct and the other side totally, unbelievably wrong. Again and again, it must be said, we are all human with limited intellects and an imperfect capacity for unselfish love. We need God’s help. We need to listen to God, as well as listen and learn from one another. Spiritual and moral truths exist to be sure, but our ethical and our concrete situations change. How we apply our beliefs and laws need to change sometimes. We must keep our minds open to new possibilities when a God claiming to always be doing something new comes around.
Today’s passage proves an example of situations just like that. Jesus doesn’t cancel out the law, but we see him reapply and interpret it under specific, challenging circumstances. He kind of expands our understanding of the law. So, here we are…in a field with Jesus on the Sabbath. His disciples are hungry, and so they plucked some heads of grain. They took what they needed to satiate their hunger and no more. That was an allowable practice on other days…except on the Sabbath. So, what should Jesus have done? Let them starve? Does God’s care for the hungry end on the Sabbath? Jesus thinks not. Jesus understands that he is Lord of the Sabbath, but also, the Sabbath is a gift to us. It serves us. It blesses us. We don’t serve it.
In fact, there is the precedent with David as he fled from King Saul, and he ate the bread of the Temple meant to be offered to God. Technically by the law, this was explicitly wrong, but in that situation, he is not condemned by scripture. Jesus declares, “The Son of Man is the Lord of the Sabbath,” and it is not the other way around. Now, Jesus isn’t throwing the law away or ignoring it. He’s reapplying it in a way that allows for a greater capacity to love in a certain circumstance…a way that honors God’s original intentions. His teaching is consistent with the love of God and neighbor accentuated in Deuteronomy 11. When it comes to the laws of God, they are always meant to prove a blessing and not a curse.
And similarly, on another Sabbath Day, Jesus is faced with a man who has a withered hand. He could have waited until the Sabbath was over to heal him, but is our God a God of love or indifference…a God of life or death? Jesus has come to proclaim the Good News that the Kingdom of God is at hand, and so healing such illnesses were an important sign of the things to come. Could there be any better place than the sanctuary in the context of praise and worship among God’s beloved people to make God’s love known through healing? The time was right and the place appropriate, so Jesus opted for life and love (the intended fulfillment of the law) over a rigorous observance of the law.
As one commentator points out, Pharisees were like the mainline Protestants of first century Judaism.[ii] They were trying to bring faith into the community and into the home. They created local houses of worship, the synagogue. And they also suggested religious disciplines, practices, that people could do to embody the faith…deepen their faith. They studied the Word of God arduously and tried to apply it to the everyday life rigorously. And so, we have extra-biblical writings – the teachings of the rabbis, not always agreeing – describing how faithful Jews should live out their faith as best as they can. They believed all the actions of our lives, even those of less consequence, should seek to reflect our faith in the one true, living God concretely. I hope all of us agree with that, for faith should inform our lives.
Yet at that time, keeping the Sabbath holy was a critical, central faith conviction of the Pharisees as well as other Jews. Yet what constituted rest and what constituted work…ah, that’s the question. It appears that at least some Pharisees tended to opt for the strictest construction of the Law – no work at all, even to feed people who are hungry or heal someone in need. Over time, very fine points of Jewish ritual law have been defined by Rabbis – both in and outside of scripture – in admittedly a copious and complex way. On one Jewish site that I visited, the consensus suggested that we really can never learn enough about keeping the Sabbath holy.[iii] Yet even today, the more orthodox believers of Judaism avoid writing, erasing and tearing paper on the Sabbath for that is work…a kind of physical exertion. They aren’t allowed to make business transactions or prepare food either. (That can be done ahead of time with proper planning.) As kindling or sparking fires were prohibited in the Levitical law, turning on lights or a stove (allowing for a sparking of electricity) remain forbidden today. And the list goes on and on, but this is not out of some obsessive love for the Law, but it is an explicit, intentional attempt to encourage people to honor and love our one true God with their lives…through those actions, to bring God to the forefront of our minds and hearts. It stops us during our day to think about God in our life.
These two Sabbath controversies are about observing the Sabbath day rightly, but it is also ultimately about how we should honor and love God and neighbor. That dual command of loving God and neighbor that Jesus lifted up over and over again is critical to interpreting the scene put before us today. Loving God and neighbor as ourselves, reflecting the biblical teachings and mandates, proves the highest form of worship and holy living according to Jesus. Our actions should embody this faith. Yet, this wasn’t new with Jesus…just sometimes not properly applied or understood. Many of the earliest Jewish interpretations (through many today) always emphasize that saving a life always overrides Sabbath law.[iv] They agree with Jesus’ interpretation.
Name whatever hot button political issue you like…consider any ethical dilemma you are facing (or our nation might face for that matter)…we are to consult scripture and discern our response the best we can. (Hopefully, we do so in community.) According to Luther, the prophets, and Jesus, loving God and neighbor as ourselves is to remain our ultimate maxim and measure. When justice and mercy are at odds, there is to be a bias toward mercy.
Yet when we are asked to love others, this doesn’t mean we aren’t to love our community, family, or ourselves and automatically ignore any of our risks or needs. No, no, no, the context matters, and that’s what makes Christian ethics so difficult. The context matters. Our options and gifts that we have been given matter. Our willingness to be open to God’s love and sharing that love with others matters. We should wrestle with our problems intentionally, not fall back into some kind of autopilot, for if we have not love, we gain nothing. (So, St. Paul argued.)
As we face the many controversies of our own time, I am not called here as pastor to provide you specific, political answers for your life. I’m human, and I can be just as wrong or more wrong than you. (I’m wrong all the time…ask my wife.) Instead, what I wish to do is encourage us all to engage the issues of our days in a faith-centered, faith-filled, intentional way as Jesus did. In doing so, seek to be gracious and humble. Seek to listen more than we talk…to love more than we judge or condemn…to try to understand and be empathetic toward the opposition rather than for us to worry about being understood…because when we do that, then we might just learn something. All these hot button issues are important. In some cases, they are life or death matters. So, I don’t think we should expect easy, pat answers…We should more likely expect a cross.
Therefore, our Savior is rightly consulted and trusted: through prayer and bible study…through following Christ’s own example of humility, gentleness and peace…and yes, through listening to the concerns and cares of our neighbors…even those opposed to us…even those we might think have lost their way or lost their minds…for God has often used “the least of these” to help redirect others whom God loves. It might even be helpful to take a moment to rest, to step away from all that troubles us, or to find others to share our time with. So, don’t feel obligated to post that meme that might insult another or stir the pot. If you see something offensive to you, it is ok to turn the other cheek and scroll right by it. After all, among all the controversies Jesus faced and busyness of starting his ministry with others, there’s one little verse today that we might have missed (v. 12)…this is about Jesus: “Now during those days he went out to the mountain to pray; and he spent the night in prayer to God.” Facing all these controversies and dangers, he stopped to pray, to rest.
I don’t have all the answers to the troubles of our time any more than you, and that’s ok, because we are not God. Yet, we can turn to God in trust. We can seek to love one another as best as we are able, even our enemy. As God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe ourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience (Colossians 3:12). Fast and pray, repenting of our own sins first, before trying to fix others…because we really cannot fix anybody. That’s the way of true wisdom; leading us to where we need to be…walking with Jesus as his disciples…loving and learning as we go. Amen.
Weinachts gurke, Christbaumschmuck der Firma Inge-Glas, Neustadt bei Coburg, Deutschland, CC BY-SA 3.0 via Wikimedia Commons.
This Christmas sermon inspired by the popular pickle ornament was preached on Luke 2:1-20 at Christ Lutheran Church (Fredericksburg, VA) on Christmas Eve, December 24, 2023. You can also find a recording of this post at my 2 Penny Blog Podcast.
Sadly, there is no children’s message tonight, but we are all Children of God, and this is Christmas Eve, so I have something to show you. [Displaying pickle Christmas ornament.] Can anyone tell me what this is? —- That’s right, it is a pickle ornament, but in this case, it has a pickle flavored gummy candy inside. (Yum, right?) As I shopped for gifts this year, both in Walmart and Target, I discovered versions of this tasty “gift” inspired by the popular Christmas ornament – the pickle.
Now, there are several different origin stories attributed to the tradition of hanging a pickle on one’s tree, including one claiming an origination in Germany. This has been largely discounted by those who study such things, and it is now thought to be a German-American tradition created in the late 19th century – perhaps during the Civil War – right here in the US. Yet however it started, the idea remains that on Christmas morning, the first person to find the pickle on the tree will receive an extra present from Santa Claus or (they say) you will have a year of good fortune ahead.
In any case, seeing this pickle candy ornament got me thinking. It has a sour and sweet taste. Some will like it. For others, it might be hard to swallow. And in that tension – stick with me now – we might just have a perfect allegory for Christmas. You see, the story of Christmas is not really one of just lights, triumphant song, and gifts. We celebrate something much more complex. The story of Jesus is both sweet and sour, joyous and sad, easy for some to hold on to and hard for others to dare hope in.
When we look closely at the story itself, when we ponder it perhaps as Mary and Joseph truly experienced it, we witness a couple who had to accept the impossible – a virgin birth. They did so at the risk of accusations of sins such as adultery. This could make Joseph appear the cuckolded fiancé to his peers or one who took advantage of poor, young Mary, thus he would dishonored, a pariah, in an honor-based society. Worse, it perhaps could have resulted in Mary’s stoning for adultery – for a relationship outside of marriage was deemed a reason for death. Who among their family, friends and neighbors would believe such a crazy story as a virgin birth? Despite the risks, they accepted their fate. They trusted God, and therefore, both Mary and Joseph said yes to God.
Then, they faced another challenge – that of the census and its associated taxes. They had to travel to Joseph’s ancestral, tribal home of Bethlehem. They embarked on what was likely a four to seven day journey over about 90-miles. Remember, there were no paved roads, cars, trains, planes, nor were there rest-stops along the way.[i] Lyft and Uber were not options. They traveled on rocky, dirty, dusty paths. They traveled through a land under military occupation by the Romans, who could sometimes randomly be bullies to the native peoples. Not only that, Mary and Joseph also faced the very common risk of rebels and robbers harassing them as they traveled as well.
And let us not forget that Mary traveled even as Jesus’ birth was imminent. She was in her third trimester. If Joseph cared about Mary and the baby, the pace would have likely been slower with many stops for the bathroom, rest, and food. So, some specuilate that the trip might have taken a week traveling at the less than the rocket pace of about 2-mph.[ii] Despite facing many challenges in trusting in the great promise of Jesus, if not experiencing very real fear at the political and religious threats around them, both Mary and Joseph continued to say yes to God. They stepped out bravely in faith, for God had promised to be with them on their journey.
And once they arrived, more challenges appeared. There was no room at the inn. This small, backwater village of Bethlehem did not seem to have the capacity for all those who returned to be counted. They found themselves instead in a stable. Archeology and historical studies in the area indicate these stables were often more like caves. They offered the smallest amount of protection and comfort. Yes, the newborn king was not yet widely celebrated. He was laid somewhat quietly in a manger…a trough for animals, surrounded by noisy animals and filth. No, there were no robes or crowns for Jesus. Luke reports he was wrapped in bands or strips of cloth – essentially “wrapping” Jesus tightly…swaddling him…in what meager things they had.
There’s a common and ancient Christian belief that being born in this cave and wearing his swaddling clothes foreshadow Jesus’ future burial in a stone tomb. As cute as Jesus must have been, as warm as the loved shared between parents and child could ever be, we should not forget why our Messiah came. This innocent baby, born without sin, would be hated by many, find no roof to call his home for the last years of his life, and he would ultimately suffer and die for our sake. (Thus, you will often see Eastern Orthodox icons and ancient European art shockingly portraying Jesus as an infant wrapped tightly within his burial cloth.)
Even as Jesus started his life among us, scripture suggests he and his family were poor. They had no finery. And yet, again, Mary and Joseph made do with what they had. They trusted God to supply their every need, and they shared what they had including all their love with Jesus. Yes, they trusted God with their lives, and despite the many threats and challenges, they sought to live in expectation and hope. (Of course, this doesn’t mean they never cried, or suffered, or felt fear. They were human after all, but the power of such times did not control them. They knew they were in God’s loving hands, and that truth helped them to act free of fear to do the right thing – as that same truth might do for us.)
So, we see that the story of the nativity is in a great part one of threat, struggle, poverty, and suffering…There’s a sourness to it. Our modern sensibilities might not like it, but that is the way it was. That’s the way our lives can be today in part. We might not want to think about the hard things that come with life. We probably prefer the happy, but Jesus came to share our lives fully – even the bad parts, including death – even as he remained our God. And Mary and Joseph? This was a couple who likely experienced much joy, but they also knew what it meant to be a human in a very fallen and unfair world. They, my friends, as great as they were, were much like us.
However, before we lose hope, remember that there is much sweetness in this story too. There proves much reason for joy. For Jesus came as Immanuel, God with us. Jesus has come to ultimately save us from harm and every evil – even our own struggle with sin. And we can also see that Mary and Joseph’s own love and faith sustained them – much as such faithful, loving relationships with others can help empower and sustain us. Mary and Joseph proved stronger due to these social bonds, and so can we.
And we learn as the Gospel unfolds that many others who are oppressed, forgotten, alone, sick or suffering – perhaps again people like us – came to see Jesus as he truly is over time…see him as Mary and Joseph did as the Holy Spirit opens eyes, minds, and hearts. Jesus is not you average baby. He is the Messiah, our Savior, our Redeemer, our way to forgiveness, joy, and everlasting life…He’s meant to be our everything. And because of Jesus’ call for us to be one, these newly enlightened ones sought to be one no matter what they have done or failed to do, and they invited others to be in relationship with Jesus – as we should strive to do.
If that wasn’t enough, the angels remind us of the eternal import of this baby’s birth as they sing, “Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace to those on whom his favor rests.” We can’t trust our feelings. We cannot look to our situation or the world for a final clue. No, God loves us so much, God comes to us…as one of the most vulnerable among us…a baby…and angels (God’s messengers) point the way. Our Father in Heaven declares that it is upon us that his favor rests…us! Can you believe it? God in Jesus has come to us and for us. Wow!
The world can seem so daunting at times, perhaps even against us, but it is at Martin Luther observed so long ago now, “The incarnation is proof that God is not against us.” No, as bad as life can get, God always loves us and promises a future filled with hope ahead of us. God comes to us in our need over and over again. Is it any wonder that the shepherds left amazed, and Mary treasured these mysteries and pondered them? There is so much sour in our world. It can be hard to believe that good exists, never mind believe that the baby laying at her breast was God.
Faith is hard. Trusting is a risk. And so sometimes as a human as I face difficulties, I just want to spit all the sour out; throw up my hands and walk away. Even as Advent started, as many of you know, I was reminded of the sting of death as someone incredibly important to me died. And many here have faced their own losses, disappointments, negative diagnoses, financial problems, perhaps even worse this past year. Each of us has a unique story, but I know we are all human in a broken world. Even with faith, life is hard. The imperfections of our world and our life are always present. They remain almost easier to identify than our blessings. They can capture our attention and hold us hostage. Much as our sin can do, our problems might also bind and blind us.
In response, God’s messengers again shout for our attention, “in the town of David a Savior has been born to you,”…for you. In some ways, Christmas seems most especially for the sad ones among us…Those of us walking through a “Bleak Midwinter” can see a light beckoning us on, warming our hearts, and calling us toward trust.[iii] Like Mary and Joseph, understanding that God is Love, a Love that has and will continue to reach out to us, we can seek to trust the promises of God to be with us, and for us, even if we must do so through tears at times.
Thus, no matter who we are or our situations, we, too, can step out in faith as Mary and Joseph once did. Like the shepherds, we might not fully understand, we might struggle to trust, but we can seek this hope we have heard testified to us. We can try to share our experience, strength, and hope with others. For in seeking Jesus with the eyes of faith, we will find that Jesus is already and always will be reaching out to us before we even recognize him – much as he came unnoticed by most of the world on that first Christmas Eve.
I, for one, think we need to both notice his birth and look for Jesus in our lives each day. As a young adult from the Slovak Republic reminded me through a meditation she shared while I faced my own grief, “When we are feeling hopeless, we are not facing the God that is giving us hope, [instead] we are facing the world that is giving us these hopeless feelings.”[iv] In effect, we are believing in the power of the world more than God’s power. We are in a way worshipping the world instead of God, giving it power over our lives. Instead, we have the choice to turn to our God and live.
And so, in both good times and bad, God calls us back to the manger – to take another look. Amidst the sour of this world, the sweet cries of Jesus lying in the manger were calling us by name before we were even born; imploring us to trust in him today and always. Times might be hard, we might feel like we are in a pickle (you knew I had to go there), but through that baby in a manger, we always have access to a hope we can concretely hold onto. Jesus is here. God became human in the flesh. Heaven has broken into our world. In this, we can rejoice. We might only get a foretaste of this glory for now, but life – thanks to Jesus and his promises – remains very sweet indeed. Amen.
This sermon on Isaiah 5:1-7; 11:1-5 and Mark 12:1-3 was preached at Christ Lutheran Church (Fredericksburg, VA) on the Twenty-fifth Sunday after Pentecost, November 19, 2023. You can also find a recording of this post at my 2 Penny Blog Podcast.
In my work as a volunteer police chaplain or in pastoral counseling, I can run into people with a vision problem. No, they don’t need an eye doctor. Their way of looking at life can be out of focus. The person might suffer from bent thinking where it is like looking at your submerged legs as you stand in the water above. Your legs are the same as they have always been, but you perceive them as losing definition and perhaps they seem disjointed or cut off from the rest of your body. Unfortunately, as humans, as we experience traumas (big or small), or as we seek to control things that aren’t controllable, or as we try to cope with stress or loss in unhealthy ways, our vision of reality tends to be negatively impacted. We don’t see our life, our options, or who we are accurately. Our focus on what’s bad or hard begins to overshadow the goodness of life…and my friends, believe it or not, there is always goodness to be seen…even as we face death. I have seen this as a hospice chaplain.
To be frank, I find these symptoms of an imperfect humanity in a difficult world to be like those of us with post-traumatic stress symptoms. (Sure, maybe the symptoms might not be as severe for everyone, but they are often similar.) Over time, we can wrongly personalize things saying things like, “the world is against me,” “nobody likes me,” or we might believe that “I am the unluckiest person in the world.” Along with negative self-talk, maybe we imagine slight or expect betrayal when there is none. Or, we might simply take on blame when something bad happens to us or those we love even when there is no blame. Things can go wrong even when we do everything perfectly because life isn’t fair. Even Jesus, perfect and without sin, died on a cross. That was pretty unfair to be sure.
Conversely, we might hear a criticism of someone or some group we are associated with, and we allow ourselves to become deeply wounded by something we have no connection to. Those times are examples of personalizing things, but we can also catastrophize things: “If I fail this test, my life will be ruined.,” “If (insert a name) breaks up with me, I have no future.” We begin to see our world simplistically and dualistically. (And by that, I mean we tend to see events as all good or all bad – nothing falls in between.) Life just is not that way.
If this sounds familiar to you, I am not surprised. As humans, we all can feel this way at times. The darkness of this world can whisper in our ears, and we might listen too long. The problems become more significant and life threatening (to one’s own quality of life or concretely a danger to one’s life or others) when we get stuck in this pattern of thinking. We stop seeing the big picture – that life is long. Our life course can change at any time. It is only a bad day, not a bad life. More than that, perhaps more harmful, we forget that we have a God behind us that is bigger than any problems we face, even death. And that God, our God, has promised to love us and care for us always, because we are God’s people. Remember, Jesus actually calls us his family.
When we look at prophetic texts forecasting doom, it is dangerous to view them in isolation. Martin Luther argued (and those who join me for Bible study on Monday nights hear this over and over again), we need scripture to interpret scripture. What we are reading is not meant to be heard in isolation, for it is just part of a much larger, all-encompassing story which isn’t just in the past. This story, God’s love for us, embraces us in the present…even on the worst of days. “God is with us,” Immanuel. We learn this with Jesus…but God was always with those and for those God so lovingly created and called. Most assuredly, you have likely heard someone at some time use such passages to try to scare people straight…you toe the line or suffer in hell eternally, as you deserve….Yet as true as hell and consequences might prove, those kind of threats never worked for me. I just lost hope. It is only God’s love and grace that ultimately turns most lives around.
As we look at Isaiah’s prophecy today, we need to read it with the proper lens and context. Just as we heard the prophet Hosea call the Northern Kingdom of Israel to account, Isaiah’s task was to seek the repentance of the Southern Kingdom of Judah. Yet, the prophet Isaiah begins with a somewhat strange literary motif of his day. His warning is hidden within the guise of an ancient Hebrew love poem.
Long ago, the vineyard was a symbol of a nurturing, sweet, growing love. And so, we hear of God being like a planter. God expected a great deal from the love he planted in the lives of this chosen people. God’s time had been invested selecting the richest soil, digging, pruning, and watering throughout their history and present. To protect them, there would be a watchtower, and hedges and walls (perhaps these represent his power, angels, laws, and of course grace). The ancient vineyard required hard, intentional work for the grapes to flourish (much as with any healthy relationship). Symbolically, the poem represented God’s work and God’s blessing benefitting God’s people…those God loved.
Yet, surrounded by international and natural threats, the people were afraid. They forgot God’s promises. They did not trust them. And so, the people reached out to false gods to help them feel in control and safe – sometimes idol worship and superstition, but also sinful actions and distractions can become idols too. Yes, there was evil in the world striking out at them through the Assyrian and later Babylonian Empires…but they themselves had also torn down the fences and stomped on the grace of God with the daily choices they made. A people who should have born good fruit began to bear rottenness, selfishness, and other sins. Jesus would echo Isaiah in John 15 with his own parable of the vineyard saying, “My Father is glorified by this, that you bear much fruit and become my disciples. As the Father has loved me, so I have loved you; abide in my love.” As with the vineyard prophesy in Mark, Jesus would recall how the people had a tendency to reject the fruit of love from God – not only prophets, but also himself.
Sadly through Isaiah, we learn that Judah has failed to abide in God’s love…failed to love God and neighbor. That’s their primary sin. And so Isaiah’s song or parable of the vineyard will go on to enumerate their sins and consequences to leave no doubt; much like a prosecutor before the judge who is God: Covetousness and greediness of worldly wealth and land where the poor were ignored shall be punished with famine (v. 8-10); rioting, drunkenness, and lives of excess (v. 11, v. 12, v. 22, v. 23) shall be punished with captivity and all the miseries that attend it (v. 13-17); presumption in sin, and defying the justice of God (v. 18, v. 19); confounding the distinctions between virtue and vice, and so undermining the principles of their faith (v. 20); Self-conceit and lack of reliance upon God (v. 21); perverting justice, for which with the other instances of reigning wickedness among them, for these sins a great and general desolation is threatened, which would lay all waste (v. 24-25). This would come to be through a foreign invasion (v. 26-30), referring to the havoc which would come by Assyria’s army and the later Babylonian Empire.[i]
Despite God’s intention of blessing and life, their choices were leading to death. Isaiah warns that Sheol, the place of the dead, shall open its mouth wide and swallow them all. Their own bad choices and lack of vision would see to that. Is it any wonder that the people felt afraid as their world was falling apart…as if they had been abandoned by God? This is so human! Yet, God still longed for them…hoped for them. “Turn to God and live!” prophets would cry out. Still, they tended to blame the messengers or others…anyone but themselves. And so, the Assyrians would come…and then the Babylonians…and finally about six decades of exile and suffering would come as well. In this prophecy of doom and through the shortsightedness of the people, sure, we can see and understand parallels within our own lives. Our similar actions might result in similar consequences, but let’s cast a wider glance.
As Isaiah shares about the consequences of sin or a fickle faith with his people, he also points the people’s vision toward God. If God didn’t love them, would God have sent prophets to call them back into relationship? And so, he shares his call story in the next chapter. Then, he encourages the King and the people. He proclaims, “the Lord himself will give you a sign. Look, the young woman is with child and shall bear a son and shall name him Immanuel.” Although Christians see Jesus in this ongoing promise, Isaiah pointed to the birth of a son to inherit the throne as a sign and promise for a future filled with hope in his time. And even as lack of faith will lead to periods of loss and suffering, as all bad choices do at some level, Isaiah urges them not to give up hope. Justice will surely come because God’s love is already at work in their midst. And because God is just, those leaders and powerful who take advantage of or abuse others, and even arrogant Assyria, will all eventually face the consequences of their behaviors and haughtiness, too.
Yet those who remain faithful, who are imperfect but strive for justice and peace, who seek to love God and neighbor, all will be well. All is well, for God always loves them. Even today as we face our problems and pain, Paul, too, assures us that we are already victorious. Why? It is not because of anything we do or don’t do. It is because God has chosen to love us, and Jesus came – not for himself – but for us and our benefit…to do what we cannot…save us.
As we wrestle with harsh realities all around us, God is with us…God promises to be with us! Bad times will pass. Death has lost its sting. Sins can be forgiven, and lives restored. And so today, we jumped a bit forward a bit and also heard from Isaiah as recorded in chapter 11. Professor Michael Chan of Luther Seminary points out, “The concrete expression of this new future is a ruler on whom the spirit will rest (verse 2). Promise comes to Israel in the form of a person—a human king who embodies the best of Israel’s traditions: He is wise and understanding (verse 2), powerful in war (verses 2, 4), able to judge for the benefit of the poor (verses 3-4), and obedient to God (verses 2, 5).”[ii] God will elect leaders to lead them toward a more peaceable kingdom. More than that, beyond Isaiah’s own hope perhaps, Christ will come. Later Christians, struggling as Jewish believers before them had, will see Jesus’ work hidden within these same passages.
Pastor Chan goes on, “At the end of the day, Isaiah 11:1-9 does allow us to celebrate Jesus’ ministry in the past and especially in the present, but the text also urges us to the place of intercession, where we long for creation’s promised destiny, as a place where peace, justice, and grace have the final word.”[iii]
You see, the promised new heaven and new earth with Jesus’ return is still yet to come. Sin and death though defeated are in their death throes around us. Life can still hurt. People can still fail us…We can fail ourselves. Crosses might yet need to be carried. Still, never fear. Although sometimes hidden or hard to see clearly, God is here. You are loved. And nothing, not even death, will have the final say. For through our faith and baptism, don’t you see, we are part of God’s story. Despite how things might look at times, God loves us and has promised to never let us go. Even now, God is doing a new thing. God is leading us home. Amen.
This sermon on Ruth 1:1-17 and Mark 3:33-35 was preached at Christ Lutheran Church (Fredericksburg, VA) on the Twentieth Sunday after Pentecost, October 15, 2023. You can also find a recording of this post at my 2 Penny Blog Podcast.
Mother-in-laws can get a bad rap. True, sometimes their relationships with their son or daughter-in-laws may be difficult, and mother-in-law jokes abound, yet they can be a gift. I’m fortunate that my own mother-in-law has always supported and encouraged me even if my own mother did not at times. Now, she’s not afraid to challenge me, but she always does so with dignity, love, and grace. So, I feel very blessed. That is why I often introduce her as my favorite mother-in-law (she’s my only one), and I jokingly tell people I am her favorite son-in-law. This doesn’t always go over big with my brother-in-laws in Pennsylvania and Ohio, but she reminds me that I am her favorite son-in-law in Virginia. She loves and appreciates each of us as if we are all her favorite one.
Surely, defining and understanding family and tribal relationships is not always easy. Getting along with others never truly is. And so, Jesus often uses familial language in very broad terms. He encourages his disciples to think of one another as brothers and sisters…siblings of God. And on the cross, he turns to a beloved disciple and his mother, and gifts them to one another: “Woman, behold your son!” Then He said to the disciple, “Behold your mother!” (see John 19:25-29). He does not want his widowed mother to be alone. It is a very moving scene. His teachings stretch the common understanding of the time surrounding tribe and family.
In indigenous, tribal populations, adoption was and remains common. There were mechanisms and rituals to adopt people into the tribe and family, and in some cases, a murderer might even be adopted into a family to replace the son or daughter who had died. Tribes throughout the earth often had mechanisms to create extended or what scholars might call “fictive family.” It was good for society and individuals to have connection. This broad idea of family reaches from ancient tribal times into Jesus’ world, and into our own time. This practice crosses cultures, including Jewish culture, although with varied rules. I’d wager many of us here today are god-parents or “aunties” or “uncles” to people of which we have no blood relationship. I have twenty-three people who love me as their uncle and call me that – eight of which have no blood relationship. When it comes down to it, what defines family is not laws, culture, or social practices. It rests on a decision to love another person as family. That’s it. We choose to love.
Sure, family is important sociologically. Tribal and national identities in their best sense may serve to unite and protect us. Yet, in our DNA, perhaps reflecting the realities of a fallen world, some genetic and sociological studies suggest that even infants are designed to inherently trust those who look like them more than those who don’t, and this might extend into adulthood.[i] If these studies prove true, some suggest this could reflect an instinct for tribal relationships built into our survival skills. Outsiders (those who look different) rightly or wrongly can be viewed as a potential threat (outside the “tribe”). Certainly, sociological impacts and experiences can influence this too, fermenting racism and other forms of hatred. Sin can play upon our human nature – magnifying it negatively even when some traits might have been implanted in us to help protect us in a dangerous world.
Upon reflection, we see a tension here. There might be an instinctual, fallen tug on us to limit who we see as neighbors or family, but God wants more for us. We can be tempted to dehumanize those who are against us, but Jesus teaches us another way. All the while, God pulls us toward reconciliation and trust – if not unity. That’s God’s promised goal. And yet, the ancient Israelites often interpreted the Ten Commandments application quite tribally. You shall not steal, or murder, or covet another’s property unless perhaps it was someone in a non-Israelite tribe. This ethical construct proved true among many indigenous populations too, including Native American tribes. It wasn’t unique. It was conventional thought.
A lot of this tribal thinking had to do with interpretation, context, and understanding. Familial and tribal relationships were seen through the lens of a dangerous world, and so although exceptions were made, these boundaries tended to be quite strong. Yet if you look deeper at the Mosaic Law, the call was always there for kindness to the foreigners, poor and outcasts among the Israelites. Despite this, in Jesus’ time, outsiders could still be looked upon and treated as an “other” – there were some people with less rights socially, or they became someone yoiu should distance oneself from in order to maintain religious purity, safety, or help ensure cultural, political or personal survival.
In response, Jesus stretches this human understanding toward the divine’s own. He ate with outsiders. He forgave serious sinners. Heroes in his stories could be from the hated Samaritans or Canaanites. When asked about the identity of our neighbors so that we could love them, Jesus interpreted this in the most open way possible. He taught neighbors were anyone around us, regardless of their ethnic, religious, or socio-economic status. When asked who his followers should treat like siblings, an even closer social status, Jesus answers, “Whoever does God’s will is my brother and sister and mother.” Again…not just someone who believes exactly as I do, but those who do God’s will are our siblings.
In life, relationships are complicated, and few families don’t experience discord over politics, inheritance, or even who loves who more at times. Families remain necessary in a difficult world, but they can have issues. These past years and days sadly remind us that nations can be necessary due to very real dangers. And yet, as a fallen humanity, we don’t always love God or our neighbors as God intended. In return, some family members or neighbors can mean us harm or become toxic to us. Despite our best efforts, ancient tribal animosities may rise within us, and wars might start causing people to argue over who started what…and thus we hurt innocents all along our way.
True, God never called us to be doormats. Sometimes, to turn the other cheek means we turn and walk away. Yet at other times, many Christian theologians (those not explicitly pacisfist) tend to argue that force might be necessary at times – the most limited force possible with the least number of innocents lost…yet force, nonetheless. In any war, even the best of wars, innocents will die. As a former police officer and soldier trained to use force, with friends and acquaintances who have used lethal force, I know that such force can leave a mark on a person’s soul. Moral injury (which is when one feels they have acted outside their conscience or moral compass) is real. I deal with that at times counseling others as a chaplain. And our Orthodox siblings even invite soldiers to confess as a healing medicine no matter how just a conflict. They do so because the best of wars is interwoven with the stain of human sin – always. Our brother’s blood can be heard crying out to us from the ground, like a voice calling for revenge, as it did when Caine killed Able (Gen. 4:10). There is just something inherently wrong with war and killing people even when necessary in a fallen, messed up, dangerous world. It is never God’s hope for us, our families, or the world.
And so, wars may come whether we wish it or not. Violence might visit our household at any time, because people can be overcome by sin and do evil things toward us and the one’s entrusted to our care. We, too, can err. Yet as we seek to discern our own call in response to the realities around us, whether pacifist or warrior or somewhere in between, Jesus’ perhaps hardest challenge to human reason remains. How can we best love even our enemy?
This past week, I have had many ask my opinion on the recent, horrific terrorism and resulting conflict in Israel. I don’t know the full answer. Perhaps, I don’t really have any answers in a situation that is embedded in centuries of ethnic, political, and religious struggles. Yet, I do know that terrorism, racism, antisemitism, and any calls for genocide or war crimes must be clearly and unequivocally condemned…always. Facing this, we are to seek to love everyone – especially the most vulnerable among us – and always pray for our enemies. From the Mosaic Laws, prophetic teachings, and Jesus’ own words, we are seek to show mercy even as we strive for justice…even when fighting for life and death.
So, as the Lutheran World Federation has done, we can urge all sides to value the innocent, respect life, and uphold international law.[ii] For when all is said and done, Jesus was sent to offer salvation for all people, and the Lord intends to bring all peoples to himself. Some might reject Jesus…some might hate us…try to hurt or kill us…but forgiveness, mercy, and love are Christ’s work among us even now…This is God’s will that is trying to work through us. Yet, it remains a tough go…it can seem an impossibility.
And so perhaps it is a gift that the Narrative Lectionary draws our eyes to the very ancient story of Ruth and its possibilities this day. The story is from the time when Judges ruled the Jewish tribes. (Judges, you might recall, were like chieftains of the Jewish tribes before the monarchy. Some were prophetic and spiritual, and some were great warriors just as with the Lakota I worked and lived with.) Those days were a chaotic time. The Tribes were free from slavery. They were finally in the Promised Land, but they were not always good to one another. Also, enemies still abounded because they had not fully defeated the resident tribes as God ordered. Despite the direct commands of God (the Ten Commandments) and all that Moses had taught in his law applying those commandments, people still flirted with foreign gods and did not love their neighbor. And so, the Book of Judges tells us that it was a morally questionable time, “In those days,” it says, “there was no king in Israel.” (One might also argue that God was not even appropriately king of their lives.) And it goes on, “Everyone did what was right in his own eyes” (Judges 21:25).
And yet in the face of this reality, we have this mother-in-law and daughter-in-law lifted up to us for our examination. They are of different tribes (Jewish and Moabite), and despite this, they boldly hold onto one another in love as family. Our Jewish siblings often read this story on the Feast of Shavuot (also known as Pentecost, celebrated fifty days after Passover). It is a time when they remember the gift of the Law (the Ten Commandments) given to Moses. (We Christians tend to remember the gift of the Spirit arriving on Pentecost.)
For her part, Ruth, the non-Jew, receives and accepts God as her God and in effect promises to live by the Torah – receives the Law as her own. The promises of God thus become her gift as well through faith. In another parallel with the feast, the story happens during the harvest, and the feast gives thanks to God for God’s bounty. It is an ancient and surprising story thought to originate in the Judges period and was orally transmitted until written down after the Babylon exile had ended. (I’d encourage you to read the complete story at home this week. It is short, but very engaging and informative.)
Ruth’s name means “compassionate friend,” and as is often the case with ancient tribal names, she is just that. Naomi had married a Moabite, as had her now deceased son, and that’s how Ruth and she came into relationship despite being from different peoples. Naomi wanted to accept her fate among her Jewish people. For her part, Ruth could have gone back to her own people, but she feared Naomi might starve or come to harm. So, in the face of danger, she stays regardless of consequences. She stays out of love.
In a patriarchal time, they have no husbands and no sons. They have no one to legally or culturally represent or protect them. They have no formal social safety net, but they do have the law of the Lord which calls for the people to love widows, orphans, and aliens. They have allowances for gleaning fileds to help care for for those in need. On top of that, the Mosaic code calls for a Redeemer (a Goel). A Redeemer is a person who, as the nearest relative of someone, is charged with the duty of restoring that person’s rights and avenging wrongs done to him or her. This duty and eventual love of Boaz, a faithful and observant Jew, becomes a mechanism for Ruth’s formal adoption into the people of Israel. It happens as he comes to see the inner beauty, love, and faithfulness of Ruth underneath any family or tribal name.
As I said, this story was likely written down upon the return of the exiled community. They came back to a land where only a small, faithful remnant remained, and Jewish women and men had come to marry into other tribes. It was a hot button issue of sorts at the time. In addressing this historic reality, A Jewish resource states, “Rabbis use her story to show that true ‘Jewishness’ is judged not by ancestry, but by acceptance of God and the mitzvot [commands of the Torah]. Indeed, it is from this convert’s line,” they teach, “that the savior of the Jewish people must be born.”[iii]
One might say that she was saved by grace through faith in the one true God, the faith of Abraham, and we as Christians believe that the ultimate Savior, Jesus has come. You should remember that as time unfolds, Ruth becomes the great-grandmother of King David and ultimately an ancestor of Jesus. Yes, even Jesus was not purely Jewish. (How appropriate for a person who has come to save the entire world, regardless of tribe or family status.)
For Jewish believers and Christians alike, Ruth is a model of steadfast love and mercy. In Hebrew, this is called hesed. It is loving kindness often offered to those who do not deserve it. It is love for love’s sake, As we wrestle with our anger or fear, as we face evil in the world or the hearts of others, perhaps we should seek to remember Ruth’s story. It challenges us not to sin in our anger, or exact revenge instead of justice, or ignore the suffering even of our enemies. For God hopes they will become part of out family, too. One seminary professor writes, “Like many other Old and New Testament passages (Exodus 4, Joshua 2, 2 Samuel 11, Acts 10:34-5, Romans 2:14-5), [the Book of Ruth] shows us that loyalty and faithfulness includes us among God’s people, not biology, genetics, culture, or history.”[iv] For whether we want it or not, always like it or not, God is calling us to ultimately live like family with one another.
So, tough love might sometimes be needed. Separation for a time for the sake of safety might be required in certain circumstances. Consequences, justice, or even war come to pass as needed. Yet, empathy, compassion, and love – no matter if one deserves it or not – always remains our ultimate call from God. Hesed should inform any action.
Yes, I know that we all will struggle with this as a fallen humanity prone to sin and holding grudges. True, we might never clearly see such an idyllic world come to pass in our lifetime. And still, God invites us to join in his holy efforts. Christ wills to draw all people to himself. The Holy Spirit ferments communion and seeks to transform the heart of everyone in love.
Whether others do or not, we are asked to strive to make hesed a reality and our ethical norm for all our actions…to seek to live like Naomi and Ruth. No matter how hopeless it sometimes seems; we are asked to hope in and live for God. For this is God’s will, and someday it will come to passs. Amen.
St. Peter and St. Paul etching from the Roman Catacombs containing an ancient Chi-Rho symbol, a christogram representing the first letters of “Christ” and thus Jesus himself.Etching CC BY-SA, Image source worldhistory.org.
This sermon was preached at Christ Lutheran Church (Fredericksburg, VA) on the Sixth Sunday in Easter, May 14, 2023.You can find the text of this sermon and a video of me preaching it below.
As humans, we can hope for all kinds of things. We can hope it doesn’t rain. We can hope we get good grades. As in so many Disney movies, we might hope that one day our prince or princess might come. We may even hope just to get through another difficult day.[i] As humans, we would love to be in control of our future. And in some ways, yes, our decisions and efforts can impact our outcomes positively or negatively. Yet, there’s much more that we cannot control. People who we count on might fail us, or gremlins seem to take over the mechanisms of our day. Unexpected storms come too.
Therefore, some people go beyond the entertainment of astrology and seek to use it as a guide. There are still people today who cast spells and make incantations hoping for their desired outcome. We might also know Christians that hang onto a religious medal or a cross as if they were a lucky rabbit’s foot. We all can fall into such traps at times. Hopeful thinking can easily become wishful thinking or even magical thinking. “If I do this just right, God will surely give me that or do this” – as if we cantrol God. There’s a reason scripture argues against such things. God wants us to remember that we aren’t God. We cannot control everything no matter how hard we try. We cannot bribe God to love us more than God already does. No amount of manipulation or preparation or wishing can make us perfectly prepared for the life that lies ahead. Only God’s love has that power. So, why don’t we trust in God’s love offered to us so freely?
Isn’t it interesting that Paul writes so much about hope? He does so because Paul’s concept of hope isn’t made of powerless wishes. It is based on jesus. Paul hopes because he trusts in the Triune God: a god who created us out of love, who died for our sake, and who is with us now (loving and trying to guide us!) amidst any suffering or challenge. It is that god, our God, who will never let us go – who promises to help us get through our days. Paul knows full well that things will go wrong (not might go wrong but will go wrong at times). He has had friends die. He was almost stoned to death himself and was shipwrecked in a storm. He was imprisoned. he was abused. Paul knows life is hard and unfair, but he also knows with his head, and more importantly trusts deep in his heart, that a God who is love will never fail or abandon us; will never lie to us. God in Jesus Christ has promised to never do so with his blood; dying for our sake.
Certainly, we must remember that Paul was incredibly gifted at the art of rhetoric. As a Pharisee, he had to be, and those skills helped him as a converted Apostle. We startg today in Chapter 3 of his “Letter to the Romans.” That’s his latest and last letter that we know about, likely reflecting his most developed understanding of God’s love. It it he proclaims Good News. After unpacking our common sins…that we can make almost anything an idol and we struggle with sin in both body and mind….after warning about hypocrites (perhaps you and me at times) who call out people for sin while blind to their own…Paul proclaims Good News for all of us in our shared sinfulness: A person is justified by faith apart from any works that we can do. Whew, the pressures off! God is not expecting perfection from us, because we cannot attain it.
In Christ, God had promised grace and peace for us, not toil and burden. In return, all that Christ asks of us to be his agents of peace and reconciliation in the world (2 Corinthians 5:11-21) reflecting God’s own love for us. One scholar writes, “Romans as a whole is about Paul’s appeal to new relationships, of which human beings fail to extend to others outside of their cultural circles.”[ii] We tend to judge people. Remember, it seems that perhaps Jewish-Christians and Gentile-Christians in that Roman community experienced tension and mutual condemnations at times. As with so many of Paul’s letters, he is concerned with our unity in the body of Christ. As God is one, we are to try to be one. Not only that, but God will also save us in the same way. Paul writes, God “will justify the circumcised on the ground of faith and the uncircumcised through that same faith” (Romans 3:30, emphasis mine). Faith is the key.
Digging deeper into his very dense writing style and theology, we see the name of our Lord Jesus Christ begin and end this important section of Chapter 5 like two bookends. Everything in our lives, he will argue, is encompassed by Christ, the Alpha and Omega. Everything is based upon “God’s faithfulness through Jesus and how our lives are different under Jesus’ lordship.”[iii] This is the point in his argument where he will pivot from the problem of sin and disunity and point us toward what God is doing now and will come next – our assurance of salvation and ongoing transformation by the Holy Spirit through our faith in Jesus Christ. Jesus death and resurrection has changed everything for us. We are not in the same situation due to Christ’s death and resurrection. There’s an access to God in a new way…our relationship has changed. He points to what God is doing now and what will happen next. We find even now that we are already loved….already victorious. He addresses the past, present, and future where our God has been and will be proven always faithful even as we struggle to be faithful ourselves.
Already, Paul has alluded to the faith of Abraham and God’s covenant with the Jewish people. God made a promise to Abraham and his descendants. God has made a similar promise through Christ. This timeless promise is being offered to all, for God’s love is an expansive, growing, encircling love…embracing love. For not only did God make a promise to Abraham, God promised in the Jewish Testament that the Jewish people would be used to bless all the world’s people so that they could be included in this promise too. As argued elsewhere, “Paul insists that God is the God of Israel specifically.” (in the Hebrew scriptures the Lord is called our God remember), yet God is “not ‘only’ the God of Israel.”[iv] Indeed, in and through Jesus Christ, “God has been faithful to both Israel and the Gentiles simultaneously.”[v]
True, a critical symbol of that faith and covenant for the Jews was circumcision. Some in that ancient time argued circumcision was helpful for hygiene but also helpful for procreation. We might debate these beliefs today with our understanding of medical science, but symbolically what we have is a covenant not just about a promised land but also about people[vi], a people God promised would be numbered more than the grains of sand on any beach or stars in the heavens. In the ancient Jewish understanding, “the particular aspect of circumcision that saves is said to be the blood that is shed.” It is a kind of ancient blood pact between God and God’s people. In fact, the ritual requires at least one drop of blood to symbolize this joining of God and God’s people. As the bleeding occurs, the circumciser quotes Ezekiel 16:6, “As you lay in your blood…live.”
No, Paul doesn’t rail against circumcision. He has just come to understand that the act isn’t saving in and of itself. He remembers Genesis 15:6 (recounting a time before Abraham was ever circumcised) where “Abraham already had faith in the Lord, who reckoned it to his merit.” (It was a justifying, saving faith.) For Paul, through Christ’s own sacrifice, he has come to understand faith in God is what saves. Through the cross, Christ’s own blood is poured, and with it, a promise of new life was declared. Something did change with Jesus’ dying and rising in a way not even Abraham dared hope for. The Holy Spirit can now reside in our hearts. That’s all true, Jesus acted to save us and fulfill the Law. Still, trust in Christ’s final sacrifice saves us, as much as Abraham’s trust in God saved him. In trusting God’s love and promises for us, we become part of God’s plan…claimed by God “for a future filled with hope” (Jeremiah 29:11)…We enter into a life where all things become possible for those who believe (Mark 9:23).
In our modern world, we tend to delude ourselves that we control our destiny. We can seek to avoid suffering, but suffering and disappointment will come for us all at times. We might even confuse God’s love as if it is the absence of suffering. (Why would we do so, when Jesus and the early Apostles who he loved suffered so much. The absence of suffering does not prove God’s love.) Yet looking back through the history of salvation, Paul recognizes something else entirely. He sees that God uses all of it – both good and bad. Through those experiences, God will make good come for the glory of God and our ultimate benefit (Romans 8:28). In his mind, Paul has come to understand that “suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not disappoint us, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us.” Justified by Christ’s blood, redeemed by his own sacrifice, God will never forsake us or forget us even if our parents were ever to do so (Psalm 27:10). We are never asked to be perfect. We are only asked to trust and try…try in response to love as God has loved us (1 John 4:19) in thanksgiving.
As the weights of this world oppress us, whatever those weights might be for you, we can live in hope – not in magical thinking, not in others, not even in ourselves. Like Paul, we can hope in God’s steadfast love and promise at work even now. God’s love has been poured out to bring us peace…to live in us and flow through us out into the world. Faith…trust…in this new reality…turns the worst of our days into a new day of hope where we will live to witness that God’s love never fails (1 Corinthians 13)…where we will experience firsthand and eternally “God with Us.” Amen.
[iv] Levine, A. and Zvi Brettler, M., Editors (2017). The Jewish Annotated New Testament 2nd Edition. “God is one for all humanity (Rom. 3:30).” New York: Oxford University Press USA.
[v] Ibid., “God is one for all humanity (Rom. 3:30).”
My children’s sermon begins at about the 17:35 minute mark. My sermon begins at about the 25:45 minute mark. Preaching text: Romans 3:28-30 and 5:1-11.
Joseph Chaumet, detail of Via Vita, 1894-1904. Sculpture, Musée eucharistique du Hiéron, Paray-le-Monial, France.
This sermon on Matthew 18:15-35was preached at Christ Lutheran Church (Fredericksburg, VA) on the First Sunday in Lent, February, 26, 2023.You can also find a recording of this post at my2 Penny Blog Podcast.
We just listened to a bit of the fourth of five great discourses made by Jesus as recorded in Matthew’s Gospel. Just as the Books of Moses came in five – called the Pentateuch, the first five books of the Hebrew scriptures – Jesus’ teachings come in five primary installments as Matthew tells the story. Again, this, Matthew hopes, will help people identify Jesus as the Messiah…a figure similar too but greater than Moses, as Jesus is no ordinary prophet. Matthew wants us to see that Jesus is truly the Son of God.
This discourse (our teaching segment today) is often called the Discourse on the Church, for it anticipates the shared life and ministry of the future community we now call “Church.” As humans that form the Church, we live within human relationship and mutuality, bound by the Holy Spirit. Still, some people among us will struggle with vanity, selfishness, or lose their way. There will be a need to call people to correction, but just as with the Old Testament, we will hear Jesus speak of justice wrapped within mercy and grace as well. Humility, self-sacrifice, and love, Jesus teaches, are the virtues that will bind this new community together and help it thrive.
Among the many difficult dynamics that come with human relationship, among the most complicated of topics that Jesus addresses, remains the gift of forgiveness. And indeed, forgiveness is a gift at its heart. After all, Jesus died for the forgiveness of our sins before we even asked…Before we were even born, Jesus responded to our need. Our salvation is pure gift, and with his cross and resurrection, Jesus died for all our sin: the sin that’s always part of us as human, fallen creatures; the sins we have done; and the sins we have yet to do. As John writes in one of his letters (1 John 4), “In this is love, not that we loved God but that he loved us and sent his Son to be the atoning sacrifice for our sins.” He argues that we love because God loves us first. Thus, through Jesus’ own example and teaching, we should understand that we also forgive because God forgave us first. Yet, we aren’t Jesus. We can struggle mightily with forgiveness.
When we are hurt deeply, we can tend to cling to our anger and pain. We can become too focused upon it. We can get stuck and ruminate on our wounds. Now, anger itself isn’t sin. Jesus who never sinned got angry at times, but we are cautioned in scripture to avoid sinning in our anger (Eph. 4:26). So, as we focus on the sin we see as perpetrated against us, we might feel justified anger, but we can also slip into sin. We aren’t Jesus. Normal humans can tend to hold onto grudges and even nurse them. Then like a disease, those human, sinful feelings can begin to seep out of our wounds, misshaping our choices along with our view of others and our world.
There’s an old saying, “hurt people hurt people,” and although it is simplistic, I find it often profoundly true. Looking at criminal offenders or people in our family who perhaps don’t love us like they should, we often find their behaviors might not be able to be explained away, but we can often see that their own lives lacked love, tenderness, and forgiveness. They themselves might have been abused or forgotten, and their hurtful choices often might reflect their desire to be significant, have their needs met, or act out like a small child. They might not know the words for their pain and longing. They might not even be aware they are in pain. That’s just what they know. Sadly, the examples they have seen of loving relationships are too often far from the love that Jesus teaches about and exemplifies. Of course, they can be bent inward upon themselves, selfish, as Luther says. The best humans can make bad choices when they have free choice.
In families, the sins of the parents can be revisited upon several generations until someone finally says enough is enough and seeks to return to God’s ways…or so says Deuteronomy 5. Yet, not everyone who grows up exposed to brokenness offends, and just because a parent struggled to love you doesn’t mean that God could not have taught you how to love in some other way. Again, there’s an element of free choice. God can send us people to love us in lieu of a family incapable of loving as they should. So, we should not be too quick to just say “turn the other cheek” or “forgive and forget.” I am not suggesting wrong should be explained away. For our safety, for the safety of others, and even for the protection of the person we are mad at, erasing any error might cause more harm than good. Consequences can sometimes protect people or help teach people to do better.
Some of you have heard my story of a women I met as an officer while on a domestic dispute. She had faced many years of emotional and physical violence, and this night, she had been injured. Her spouse hit her so hard that her cheek was swollen up like a grapefruit. When I suggested to her that she might need to put up some protective boundaries between her and her husband, she ironically said with her swollen face in tears, “But Jesus told us to turn the other cheek.” I had to explain to her that Jesus loved her too, and he likely wasn’t calling her to martyrdom (or more likely unnecessary victimhood) at the hands or her husband. Jesus loved her too, and sometimes when situations are toxic or dangerous enough, it might be best to turn the other cheek and walk away.[i] This doesn’t mean we stop loving them, or praying for their welfare, or caring. It might just be a humble recognition that we aren’t the one’s called to save them from themselves…In such cases, we might need to love ourselves as much as we say we love them. After all, Jesus said the law and the prophets was summarized in our loving God with all that we are and loving others as ourselves…not better than ourselves.
Yes, forgiveness is complicated. Wounds can run deep and last long. A man once told me that he used to get in terrible fights with his wife. Yet it wasn’t the physical wounds that bothered him. Those scars can heal. He wouldn’t think of those physical incidents unless he stopped to look at his scars. No, often for him, the wounds that come from ill chosen words, gossip, betrayal…emotional wounds…those can be the ones that last the longest. Those can be the hardest to forgive and heal. And yes, he is right. Forgiveness is hard. Jesus never said forgiveness would come quickly like someone turning off a light switch. We might need to try to forgive, and then try again, and again. We might find a place of peace only to have something remind us of past pain, and we need to forgive yet once again. It might take a lifetime to forgive, and we might never quite fully make it. Yet, we aren’t only asked to forgive for the sake of the offending party. In just trying to forgive, in our willingness to be open to it, forgiveness heals and frees us whether the other person benefits or not.
When we seek to forgive, it is not admitting what they did was ok. Counselors suggest, “By forgiving, we are making a conscious decision to let go of any resentment, vengeance, or anger that came from being hurt because we believe we will be better off not having those emotions and thoughts floating around inside us.”[ii] It is not about the person deserving forgiveness or changing their ways. It shouldn’t be that we want the person to suffer more before we forgive. Those are ultimately justice and trust issues, and as an Orthodox saint[iii] reminds us, if God was truly and only just, each of us would be in BIG trouble. As fallen humans, we ourselves can never be fully trusted, and we can never earn our salvation. In God, of necessity, justice comes with mercy. So again, modern counselors note, the person who hurt you might not deserve forgiveness…they might not be worthy of trust… “but that doesn’t mean you deserve to live with the resentment and bitterness.”[iv] Our ability to heal and move on requires forgiveness, so Jesus (who loves us and wants what is best for us) asks us to forgive. It might take a lifetime of trying, but in trying, in praying for our enemies, we will discover that we are always blessed…and sometimes reconciliation might yet come.
How often should we forgive? Peter likely reflecting a the shared consensus of the Apostles suggested seven times. He was being stingy…better than many, but stingy. In context of this conversation, Jesus shares the parable of the Unforgiving Servant in response to Peter’s guess. The parable applies to Peter too, as much as it applies to us and to all. Jesus says we should forgive seventy-seven times (or in some texts seventy times seven times)…an eternity of times, because we have through faith forgiveness for eternity. Jesus is asking us, “Should you not have had mercy on your fellow slave, as I had mercy on you?”
Ultimately, sin has the potential to harm communities including families. It can injure or murder the spirit of someone. We cannot take it lightly. Yet as professors like Dr. Kimberly Wagner of Princeton University point out, “just because sin has the potential for collective harm, doesn’t mean the sinner should be dealt with harshly. Instead, the text lays out a process that foregrounds compassion, strives to avoid shaming and embarrassment [as demanded in Deuteronomy by the way], and ultimately seeks restoration.” This “is a procedure that insists that the spiritual and relational wellbeing of each person is something worth fighting for and restoration to community is worth our time and energy.”[v]
Yes, we are asked to recognize the consequences of sin, but we are also asked to see the humanity in one another…including our vulnerability and need. We all need forgiveness. Grounded in God’s grace, seeking to love others as ourselves, praying for our enemies even as we ask help in forgiving, or as we ask for the wisdom to know what we need to repent from and set aright…trust that justice will come from God eventually, but the blessings that flow from forgiveness can be ours right now. Amen.
[i] Hemfelt, R., Minirth, F., & Meier, P. (2003). Love Is a Choice: The Definitive Book on Letting Go of Unhealthy Relationships. Nashville: Thomas Nelson Publishers.
Husband, Pastor, Law Enforcement Chaplain, and member of the Clerical Errors (aka "The Three Priests"), I'm sharing my two cents with anyone who cares...
You can also find me on social media as Loudluthrn (Lou-d-Luthrn or Lou the Lutheran). It is a moniker given me while attending a Presbyterian Seminary, but I'm a loud and proud Lutheran too (just not too loud and proud, mind you).
2pennyblog 
.jpg){kind=link}